She turned to the elves. As the exhilaration of victory faded, they reformed their ranks, seeking orders from the most senior among them. A few nervous gazes sought out the conspicuously absent malthropes.
“There is a lot more to be done,” Myranda said. “But for today, the battle is over. Tomorrow, we begin the healing.”
Epilogue
The glorious silvery flagship stood proudly in the harbor outside Twilus. A lengthy and rather tedious ceremony had been completed amid much fanfare, and the crew was simply waiting for the tide to be right for their departure. Myranda stood on the edge of the pier, watching the workers load the last few crates packed with the precious leaves that could speed the recovery of the land back home. Myn was beside her, sitting on her haunches and watching the sea distrustfully, as though if she were not vigilant, it would try something nasty. Ivy stood to the other side, gazing at the complex shapes of the clouds over the sea.
Deacon stepped up to Myranda and placed a hand on her shoulder. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Almost a week since the final battle and I still don’t feel like myself.” She placed a hand on her stomach. “Though I suppose that has more to do with the little one than the battle.”
“Yes…”
Deacon became silent for a moment. When Myranda looked at him, he seemed to be deep in thought, and whatever those thoughts might have been, they must have been quite trying.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“… When did you know…?” he said.
“About the baby,” she surmised.
“You must have known. And worse, you must have hidden it. You stopped me from treating you, but that would not have been enough. You kept the truth from me, shielded yourself from me…”
“Deacon, there was worked to be done. If you’d known…”
“I understand the importance of the things we must do, Myranda. I have known that since Entwell. If you had chosen to fight, I would have fought beside you. I trust your wisdom. I trust your competence. I trust you.”
He took a breath. “I am your husband. The duke to your duchess. It has been my honor and privilege to stand beside you, and I have been blessed to have a place in your fabled life. Since the moment we met, I have done my level best to aid and advise you. What we did here had to be done. Of that, there is no question. It is the duty of a Chosen one to serve her world when called upon. But the duty of the Chosen extends far beyond the present day. You have an obligation to the future as well. You aren’t just an exceptional wizard, stateswoman, and warrior. You are the first in a bloodline. And should a threat worthy of the Chosen arise in the unknowable future, the line we have started together, represented by our child to be, will be called upon to defend the world once more. It may be a difficult choice to make, but until we are certain our child can go on without us, we may need to leave battles such as these to others. For the sake of our world, and for the sake of our child.”
“Deacon, I spent most of my life without a mother or a father. I assure you, I would move heaven and earth to make sure our child is cherished and protected. I should have told you. I should have trusted you. I was wrong. But from this day forward, this child, this family shall be first among my thoughts. I won’t forget that we are joined in this as in all else.”
One of the lines hauling a crate caught on the edge of the pier, pulling taut and creaking before popping free. The loud slap of settling cargo caused Myn to snap to attention. She plodded over to the offending crewmen and glared at them while carefully positioning herself between the crew and Myranda.
“Something tells me Myn is going to be taking the protection very seriously as well.” Myranda looked about. “Where are the others?”
“I believe Ether took her leave early. Before the ceremony. Grustim and Garr were granted access to a royal hunting ground not far away…”
Myn reluctantly paused in her intimidation of the noisy crew to glance in his direction at the mention of both the words “Garr” and “hunting.”
Myranda turned to the city. It was still bustling, filled to capacity with both soldiers and diplomats. Ivy stepped up beside her.
“It seems like this place is still awfully busy,” she said. “I would have thought all of these extra people would have started to clear out, now that we’re leaving.”
Deacon consulted his book. “As I understand it, without our departure the diplomatic delegation that has been focused upon us will be shifting to the matter of Den.”
“Den…” Myranda murmured. “Such a revelation… At home, when the battles are through, we are there to heal the wounds and clean up the mess we leave behind. But Den… If a village of malthropes was to be discovered in Tressor or the Northern Alliance, it would take constant vigilance to keep frightened and superstitious people from doing something horrible. Our actions here revealed them, even if it was their own machinations that forced us to do so. What will happen to them now?”
“We have to believe that wisdom will prevail,” Deacon said.
“Unfortunately, it tends to need a little help. Do we know anything of how they intend to proceed?”
“It is a Sonril matter. They did not share their intentions.”
“Do the malthropes even have a representative?”
“I very much doubt it. Not an official one. One wonders how the elves intend to open contact with the malthropes.”
“This could go very poorly for them. They are weaker than the elves. They are the aggressors, with things to answer for. They will need guidance if they are to survive this. If we could stay a bit longer…”
“Myranda, if we stay much longer, you would be in no condition to make the journey home.”
“Um…” Ivy said.
“What is it?” Myranda asked.
“What if… what if I stay? I am a diplomat. I’ve done two whole missions as an ambassador. We ended up fighting during them, which I guess isn’t the best way for them to go, but they turned out well in the end. And I’m a malthrope. I’ve spent time among the people of Den… I think I might be the only one for the job.”
“It could take a very long time. It could be very difficult,” Myranda said. “I am sure there will be more to it than simply speaking on behalf of the malthropes. The presence of the golem will bring the dwarfs into it. This all may be the final laugh of Boviss, dragging the many peoples of the Crescents to the brink of war through his horrid insidious counsel.”
Ivy crossed her arms and nodded firmly. “I don’t care.” She paused. “Just so long as I get to come home and visit when the baby is born.”
“They may not look kindly upon you imposing yourself upon their policies,” Deacon said.
“If they can call on us to fight their battles, they’d better be ready for us to talk their talks too. Ether saved the king’s life! That should count for something.” She perked up and clasped her hands. “Oh! And staying means I’ll be able to play with the fairies some more! Can you believe what happened?”
“I do believe they are the first fairies to be asked to become personal bodyguards to a king,” Deacon said.
“And the first to turn him down,” Myranda added.
“You can’t blame them for just wanting to go home. Saving a king’s life once is enough. Oh, but there’s so much to do. I’ve got to talk to the king’s people!” She gave Deacon and Myranda a hug and kiss each. “Have a good trip! I’ll miss you.”
Myn lowered her head for a scratch. “Bye, Ivy,” the dragon said.
Ivy giggled gleefully. “You’ll be talking so well when I finally get home again. I’m going to teach you a song! Can you just imagine that voice singing? I can’t wait!”
She waved farewell and practically pranced off to the task she’d assigned herself. Aboard the ship, the crew signaled readiness, and a gangplank was lowered for them to board. Myn spotted Garr approaching and leaped to the deck of the ship to await him, plopping down where the conspicuously absent cages had once been set.
Myranda and Deacon stepped aboard. As they readied to set sail, Myranda found her heart lighter than it had been in ages. In the time since she’d discovered her destiny, it seemed she’d not had a moment to reflect upon all the good she’d done. Her eyes had always been set upon the future, the many things yet to do. But for once, the future held real promise. The days to come were offering more than they were threatening to take away. She and her friends had traveled far to make their world safer, stronger.
Now, it was time to go home.
#
Two months later…
Just as she did at the end of every day, Celia climbed the steps to her cozy little home. The day’s tasks had been pleasantly light, so she wasn’t nearly as weary as she normally was. The next day the inn would not need her, so this was a rare opportunity to rest her bones and take a moment for herself. She was already making a list of things that needed doing as she shoved her door open and stepped inside.
“Hello, Celia.”
She gasped and stepped back, nearly tumbling down the steps behind her. Ether was seated at the edge of her bed.
“Ether!” she breathed, catching her breath. “Good heavens, you mustn’t startle me like that!”
“I apologize. It was not my intention. You had suggested that I experience more of the world, and return to you with stories of what I have seen and done. I have done so.”
“So I’ve heard.” She removed her shawl and stepped to the little heating stove. “Have you been sitting here in the cold, waiting for me? You must take care of yourself.”
“You say you have heard?” Ether said.
“Yes. Gracious, did that ever set me off on a tizzy. The duchess herself came, asking after you. And with child. Such a lovely girl. The way she was glowing with pride when she spoke of the child. She will be a fine mother…”
“Myranda came to you, asking about me?”
“She did. She was concerned. You vanished, she said, after the deed was done overseas. You ceased to answer her calls. Huddled yourself away.”
“That is not her concern. I shall instruct her not to trouble you with questions of my well-being.”
“You do nothing of the sort! What other washerwoman can say that the duchess of Kenvard has come to her and sought counsel! You should set her mind at ease when you are through here. It isn’t right to make your friends worry. But you didn’t come here to be scolded by a silly old woman. I understand you succeeded in your quest?”
“We did. A terrible scheme, hatched by an elder dragon. Without us, there would have been assassinations, destruction. But we prevailed. And as I believe is customary when returning from travels, I bring gifts.”
Ether tugged open a sack she’d brought, and one by one, in a rather mechanical manner, detailed their origins. Wine from the royal vineyard of Grandwinn. Fine cutlery from the finest silversmiths of Sonril. They were grand gifts, far too grand to have been intended for anyone but Ether herself. Celia tried to refuse the gifts, they were far too much for her, but Ether insisted she had no use for them herself. With each new gift, she told a piece of the adventure. This battle, that discovery, and how they had all come to fruition.
It should have been overwhelming, and the tales of exotic places and wondrous experiences should have been enthralling, but there was something missing. Celia had known Ether long enough to know that she was by no means warm and enthusiastic. As a storyteller, she left much to be desired. But even with that in mind, her words and demeanor was strangely hollow. Subdued. She was restraining herself, holding something back. For the moment, perhaps the best Celia could do was keep the shapeshifter talking.
“This is all very lovely. But it seems you’ve left the story half-told.”
“I have not. From inception to victory, I have told it all.”
“Things don’t end with victory, dear. What of this Den place? They’re without a chieftain, and the elves must be rather cross with them.”
“Ivy is still among them. She has argued quite vigorously on their behalf. To my knowledge, no further battles have resulted, and the people of Den have been wise enough to keep the D’Karon enchantments dormant.”
“So they aren’t hiding any longer?”
“More importantly, they aren’t stripping themselves or their people of strength.”
“And what of the elves and the dwarfs? Surely there have been words about that.”
“According to Ivy, a trio of dwarfs approached Rendif unannounced and dropped one of their own, bound and gagged, at the foot of their town hall with a note.”
“… Well?”
“Well what?”
“Well what did the note say?”
“I believe it identified the bound dwarf as the one who had done business with Den, against the wishes of the others, and surrendered him to whatever justice they saw fit. It also gently reminded any who might consider an act of military retribution that there are six other golems waiting to defend them.”
“Shrewd. And what else?”
“That is all.”
She looked at Ether knowingly. “No. I still haven’t heard what I have been waiting to hear.”
“I do not know what you are speaking of.”
“What of you? Why do you come here speaking like you’ve been hollowed out? Like you’ve thrown a wall up between us?”
“You are imagining things.”
“Ether, a mother knows her child’s voice. We hear the words that aren’t being said. It is nice to think you come here to share a tale and give some gifts, but not once have you come to me without something weighing upon you. Speak. What else am I here for?”
Ether sat in silence for a moment, but for a being who could perfectly imitate any form she chose, she was doing a terrible job hiding the torment going on beneath the surface.
“… There was a malthrope. His name was Reyce. I encountered him only briefly on the battlefield before he lost his life. It should have meant nothing. He was just another creature. Worse, one sullied by the magic of the D’Karon. But from the moment I saw him, I knew him to be of Lain’s bloodline.”
“Lain. The Chosen who died.”
Ether looked down. “It was uncanny, Celia. He was like Lain himself, back from beyond. Walking this world again.” Tears began to trickle from her eyes. “And before the day was done… he was struck down. It was a cruel trick of fate. A fresh blow to open an old.”
Ether paused for a moment, then raised her eyes. The tears flowed freely now.
“I loved Lain. I truly did. First, I convinced myself I was above such things. Then, I believed I was offering him something that he needed. A target for his own affections. But now I know that it was something I needed. Something I’d never known I needed, and something I didn’t know how to give or receive. Before I could come to terms with it, he was gone. And now seeing someone so much like him, in body and soul… I’m not strong enough to keep it inside, to force it away. It scours my soul…”
Celia stood and threw her arms around Ether. “The strength isn’t in keeping it inside, Ether. The strength is in letting it out.”
And so, for the first time since her creation, Ether allowed the sorrow to claim her. She wept openly, and when the moment passed, she spoke again, long into the night, sharing the thoughts that had been too long denied.
#
In New Kenvard, Deacon paced the halls of the cozy cottage that served as the official quarters of the duke and duchess. The palace was nearly ready for them to move in, but for now they remained in the same home that had been readied for them in the earliest stages of the rebuild.
He found his way to the study. Myranda was well into the pregnancy now, beginning to show. Despite it, she’d maintained doing all she could to continue the recovery of the capital. She’d drifted to sleep in an overstuffed chair, surrounded by parchment scratched with updates on this or that aspect of the city’s reconstruction. He held out a hand, and the pages gathered into an orderly pile upon the table beside
her. He then rested his hand lightly on her belly before pulling a blanket over her.
When she was more comfortable, he continued to pace. The house seemed empty at the moment. Her father was away, overseeing one of the many farms that had been treated with the nara leaf. Ivy was still with the people of Den, providing updates daily on her progress. He shut his eyes and listened. The calm, regular breaths of Myn tucked away in her stable were reassuringly present.
He stepped out into the coolness of night, his mind heavy with what lay ahead. He would be a father. In a way, it was precisely what he’d always prepared for in Entwell. What was a parent but a teacher, someone to train and prepare you for everything the world might require of you? Until recently he couldn’t have imagined anything more important than to pass on his wisdom as best he could. But it was his own child… It was a whole new level of responsibility.
Deacon held out has hands and looked upon them. He flexed the fingers of his left hand and gently eased the focus that he’d not allowed to flag for the last few months. The flesh of the hand flickered and shuddered, eager to shift chaotically despite the enchantment upon his ring. The D’Karon magic, jumping through portals, or nothing more than time… for whatever the reason, his affliction was getting worse. Harder to control. The progress was slow. He was in no danger of losing control in the near future. But he would be a father soon. And that was a task that lasted a lifetime.
Something would need to be done.
From The Author
Thank you for reading! If you liked this story, or perhaps if you found it lacking, I’d love to hear from you. Below are links to some of the places you can find me online. For free stories and important updates, join my newsletter.
Official Website, Facebook Fan Page, Twitter, Tumblr, Wattpad, and good old email.
Discover other titles by Joseph R. Lallo:
The Book of Deacon Series:
Book 1: The Book of Deacon
Book 2: The Great Convergence
The Crescents Page 33