Tobias coughed. “That’s all very nice, but what about me? If you’re finished tormenting, I’d like to be free.”
Elyus gave him a calculating look and some of the cat’s pretension seemed to fade. “Very well,” he said at last. “Your curse is done. Your torment past. Return to what you were. Remember what you learned.”
Tobias gave a little shiver. “Excelent! Well spoken, lord.” Then he turned, gave a little bow in Brinley’s direction, stuck his tongue out at Archibald, and vanished.
“Archibald.”
Archibald stepped forward gracefully and gave a deep, flourishing bow. He was in top form, but it would have been more impressive if he had his hat and his cane, and if his white gloves were not so torn and dirty with the grime of battle.
“You have done much,” Elyus said.
“And you have lost much,” Sevain continued. “You have gained your daughter, but you have lost your wife. Much of what you were born to do is now complete. You may leave, or you may stay. Our gift to you is the gift of choice.” Sevain gestured at the golden veil and they all turned to see Brinley’s mother appear on the other side of it. She held one hand up to the veil, palm open, and smiled at Archibald.
After a moment, she caught Brinley’s eye, and Brinley saw that she looked happy and whole once more.
“Oh!” Archibald exclaimed, and he rushed to the veil, holding his hand up next to hers. Just before he touched it, he hesitated, glancing back at Brinley.
“Lewilyn has missed you,” Sevain said quietly to Archibald, “but she will wait for you if you choose to stay.”
Archibald nodded slowly. “I do,” he said. He straightened his vest and then studied her face tenderly for a long moment. Finally, he returned to Brinley’s side.
“I’m glad you’re staying,” Brinley said, taking his hand. She meant it.
He squeezed hers in return, but said nothing. His eyes were full of tears.
“Benjamin Archer,” Elyus said, and Brinley’s father stepped forward. “You are not of this world. We said once that you could live here, but you have suffered much on your journey since then. We ask you once again if you would like to stay, or return to your home.”
“This is my home now,” Ben said without hesitation. “If you’ll have me,” he added.
Elyus nodded, and Ben stepped back.
The gods surveyed the little group one last time, then Sevain said, “You are the leaders of this land. Thus far, you have had to lead alone. Once, long ago, this land grew so evil that darkness overpowered light. This bridge was broken by that darkness, bred in the hearts of your own people, and personified in the works of a fallen wizard. Now the balance is restored. We will speak to you from time to time, if you will speak to us. We will guide you, if you want our guidance. It will not be easy to follow our counsel, but if you do, you will find great peace for yourselves, and for those whom you serve.” They clasped hands, and a golden light emanated from them, spreading down the bridge and filtering down over soldiers and children, mothers and sons, knights and farmers—the whole of Aberdeen, so that they relaxed, sharing the same, deep sigh that brought with it hope of a bright tomorrow.
Elyus turned to Hugo, Sevain to Brinley. “We will see you soon,” they whispered. Then the gods stepped back into the world from which they had come, leaving Hugo, Brinley, and Aberdeen forever changed.
Epilogue
In which there is a beginning and an end
Six months after the events in Ninebridge, Brinley stepped from a golden spiral staircase into what had become, with her return to Calypsis, the most used room in the Magemother’s palace: the kitchen.
It was the smell of bacon that had awakened her, and now she could hear it sizzling. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, detecting eggs and pancakes too.
“I’m telling you, you’ve added too much sugar,” Habis insisted stubbornly, dipping her finger in the pancake batter for what Brinley guessed was the tenth or twelfth time. Her father made the most delicious pancakes (the only pancakes in the world, probably, that had batter sweet enough to lick) and Habis had never forgiven him for getting her addicted.
“Just enough to make it safe to drink,” Ben mumbled under his breath, which caused Tabitha to snort with laughter from her bed.
Tabitha, against Brinley’s better judgement, had chosen the kitchen as her bedroom when she had moved back to Calypsis and the mages had taken up residence once more. “After all,” she had said, “that’s where all the most important things happen, so that’s where I should be. Otherwise, I might miss something.” It worked out all right in the end, as there was more than enough room to spare in the kitchen.
The space reminded Brinley of a painting that she had seen once of the hanging gardens of Babylon. It was a wide open space with floating stone basins full of flowers, and a five-foot-high fountain in the center that fed little circling streams of clear water around the rest of the room beneath transparent floor tiles. One end of the room was devoted to cooking and Tabitha’s bed, while the other held a long, formal dining table, which they rarely used. On the main side, two ovens were separated by a huge picture window that looked out on the glowing white sands and bright sky of Calypsis. Across from them stood a stove long enough to lie down on, and a long oval countertop that was often crowded with people.
Now that the war was over, Brinley had given several people permission to visit Calypsis. Habis was one of them, and she could often be found with Lignumis in his new, expanded rooftop garden, pointing out all the mistakes he was making with his plants and showing him how to do it “properly.” Archibald was often there as well, and Brinley was always pleased to see him. She still hadn’t begun to think of him as her “dad” and she knew she probably never would, but she had come to love him like a father. Today he was standing side by side with her other father, flipping the bacon while Ben scooped pancake batter onto the griddle.
“I think it could use a bit more sugar, actually,” Chantra cut in. She was writing in a journal at the bar, swinging one leg in time with the subtle music of the bacon.
“What?” Habis exclaimed. She took two more exploratory licks, and Chantra grinned.
“Good heavens!” Archibald exclaimed in mock surprise. “Where are our manners?” He snatched the bowl of batter from Ben and handed it to Habis along with large silver serving spoon. “There you go,” he said. “If you are that hungry then you might as well do it properly!”
They all laughed, and at that moment Lignumis entered the room carrying a tray of tiny green seedlings, which he set on the counter for Habis’s inspection. Habis, glad for the distraction, handed the batter back to Ben and began poking at the little plants.
Must you do that at the table? Brinley asked Lignumis, eyeing the bits of dirt that had already fallen out of the tray, but he was humming to himself, and the truth was that she didn’t care where Lignumis got dirt as long as he was happy again. It had taken several weeks before he was comfortable staying in his normal human shape for the entire day, and several more before he was what Brinley would call cheerful. But at long last, he seemed to have recovered from his time in the Panthion. Mostly (Once, when startled accidentally, he had transformed into a ficus, and for several hours they could not convince him to change back). As it turned out, he really had gone to the Wizard’s Ire to hide, and had hidden successfully for several years before being captured.
Brinley sat down at the counter beside them as Hugo entered the room. He waved to her, and they exchanged the same look that they did every day—friendship, warmth, shared experience, and a certain understanding of one another that they knew would keep them close forever. Then Hugo pulled up a chair beside Tabitha’s bed and held up a fist formally.
“Ooh, War Hands!” Tabitha said, holding out her own fist. “Rock, paper, scissors! Oh, rats. Rock crushes scissors.” She spoke the last words mournfully, but her eyes were bright with anticipation. Sure enough, as had become Hugo’s practice, he smashed her two fingers wi
th his fist, and his hand burst into an explosion of light, causing tiny glittering splinters to fall to the floor.
Tabitha clapped her hands and then held up her fist. “Again!” she said, and Brinley shook her head. Tabitha’s life had never been the same since Hugo added special effects.
Brinley turned her attention to one of the wide open windows as a warm breeze picked up. Animus stepped out of the wind with Cannon beside him, and a red-breasted robin fluttered in on their heels and transformed into Belterras.
“Ah, pancakes,” Animus said. “I smelled them on the wind.”
“And eggs,” Cannon put in.
“And bacon!” Belterras added enthusiastically, rubbing his portly middle with relish. “I’ve had nothing but worms to eat since yesterday. But why are you cooking, Archibald? This party is in your honor! Stand aside! You can’t be expected to cook your own birthday breakfast.”
“Leave him be,” Animus said. “At his age a man prefers his birthdays to come and go quietly.”
“That’s right,” Chantra cut in. “Besides, it took him two whole minutes to get his cuffs rolled up the way he wanted.”
Archibald glanced sideways at her and frowned, but she ignored him. She tapped the white marble stool beside her. “Here, Belterras, sit by me.”
“If you insist,” Belterras said, pulling up the stool and settling in. “I say, where is Cassis? Late again? He’s always the last one to breakfast. Doesn’t have a proper respect for good food—I’ve always said it—either that or a stone has no sense of—ARGHHHH!”
The marble stool upon which Belterras had been seated suddenly erupted, tripling in size in the blink of an eye. As a result, Belterras was launched into the air, waving his arms wildly. Regaining his composure mid-flight, he changed into a bird and glided back to the floor just in time to see his barstool finish transforming into the Mage of Stone, who, along with Chantra, was laughing uproariously.
“He falls for it every time,” Chantra said through tears.
“I do not,” Belterras objected. “I am always perfectly aware of who and what I’m sitting on. I just thought it would be more fun to play along…for the sake of Archibald’s birthday.”
“Very generous of you,” Archibald said graciously, taking the last piece of bacon off the griddle. “And I do believe we are ready to eat.”
“Oh!” Tabitha exclaimed, leaping from her bed. “Oh! Cake first, Archibald. No, don’t argue. Brinley and I made it ourselves.” She pulled the cake out from beneath the counter and set it out. There were three long lines of candles stuck into the blue frosting.
Archibald eyed them critically.
“They’re all there,” Ben whispered.
“Ffforty-fffive,” Hugo coughed dramatically, while Cannon gave him a concerned pat on the back.
Archibald’s lip twitched in a grin.
“Chantra?” Tabitha said, and the candles burst into flame.
“On the count of three!” Tabitha said. She indicated that they should follow her lead, and they all chanted together. “One. Two. Three!”
Archibald took a deep breath, and just before he released it, the candles were snuffed out by a very brief, very accurate burst of wind.
“Cannon!” Tabitha scolded, shaking her finger across the counter at him.
“Sorry,” Cannon said. “Couldn’t resist.”
Chantra snapped her fingers and the candles burst into flame again. Archibald blew them out and they all clapped.
Before Archibald could take out a knife, Tabitha was sweeping the cake away. “Good! We can eat it later. Now it’s time for your present.”
Habis bustled around the counter importantly and drew a long, thin package out from an unused cupboard. “You had better appreciate this,” she muttered, glaring at Archibald. “It was even harder to make than the first one, and I expect you to take better care of it.” She handed it to Brinley, who rose and presented it to him. She kissed him on the cheek when she did, and whispered, “Happy birthday.”
“Open it quick, Archibald, before you get all emotional,” Cassis said, and Archibald tore off the lid.
He held up a long, slender cane with a polished black handle in the shape of a swan.
“That’s me!” Tabitha exclaimed, pointing out the swan. “And it has your initials.” She snatched it out of his hands and pointed them out. “And Brinley’s.”
“And her mother’s,” Archibald finished, tracing them with a finger.
“It does the same thing as the old one,” Habis assured him.
“And a bit more,” Chantra said.
“Quite a bit more,” Hugo agreed, flexing his fingers thoughtfully.
Archibald took the cane back and twirled it experimentally. Then he grinned, whipped it into his armpit smartly, and gave them a bow. “Thank you,” he said. “I do believe this has been the loveliest birthday celebration of my life.”
“And breakfast hasn’t even started yet,” Belterras added meaningfully.
“Too true,” Archibald agreed. “Dig in, everyone.”
And they did.
Brinley watched them eat. She loved just being with them on days like this. They had become her family, each and every one, and no matter how many times they got together, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was the luckiest person in the world. There had been hard times, to be sure. Very dark moments for many of them, but in the end, this was what mattered most: they were together.
When breakfast was over and they had all parted ways again, Brinley and Tabitha helped Ben clean up. The crowning jewel of Brinley’s new life was the fact that she got to see her father every day. He worked most days with Belterras or Lignumis, putting his experience as a forest ranger to work. He had a good eye for plants and animals and what they needed. When he wasn’t helping them, he was picking up new skills or working as a handyman in Caraway. But they spent every morning and every night together, and some days, like today, he threw his plans to the side and accompanied Brinley and Tabitha on their adventures.
“Where are we going today?” he asked, his hand making a slow circle in the dishwater.
“To see Kuzo,” Tabitha said. “I promised I would bring him something from the party.” She held up a basket full of cake and bacon for his inspection.
“I don’t know why he didn’t come,” Ben said. “The window’s big enough to get his head through, for sure. He’s done it before.”
Tabitha sighed. “He says he doesn’t like closed spaces.”
“Ah,” Ben said. “That makes sense.” He turned back to Tabitha. “Where are we going after that?”
“Well,” Her cheeks going slightly pink. “I was thinking that today might be a nice day to check on the nymph kingdom. Maybe visit Fitz.”
Ben glanced at Brinley out of the corner of his eye and grinned mischievously. “Even though you visited him yesterday?”
“And the day before?” Brinley added.
Tabitha’s face was completely red now. “Oh, leave me alone, you two. I can have a friend, can’t I?”
“Of course you can.” Brinley chuckled. “In fact, I was hoping that you wanted to go there today. There is something that I want to talk about with him.”
“With Fitz?” Tabitha asked, glad for the change of topic. “What?”
“Well, we need a new Mage of Water. I’ve been watching Fitz for a while now, and I think he’s the one.”
Tabitha’s eyes went wide. Her mouth dropped open. “You mean…” she began, but she couldn’t finish.
“Yes,” Brinley said, nodding slowly. “Fitz is going to be the new Mage of Water.”
Ben cleared his throat. “Of course, that would mean that he would have to come and stay with us on Calypsis…”
Tabitha’s mouth snapped shut and she became suddenly businesslike. “Of course he will. Yes. Right. Fitz here…Mage of Water…Most natural thing in the world…of course, he’ll need a good room. Unda’s old one won’t do. He’ll need something new. Something him.”
&nb
sp; “Something closer to the kitchen?” Ben added, and Brinley burst into laughter at the look of astonishment on Tabitha’s face.
“Come on, then,” Brinley said, taking the basket into her arms. “We have a big day ahead of us.”
Tabitha changed into a large black swan—larger than normal, since she had to carry Ben as well—and they climbed onto her back.
They sailed out of the kitchen window, and Tabitha climbed into the sky, pointing herself in the direction of Kuzo’s new home.
Ben’s hand sneaked around Brinley and opened the lid of the basket. He slipped out a piece of bacon.
“Never steal food from a dragon,” he whispered a second later through a mouthful.
“Especially bacon,” she agreed.
“Especially bacon,” he echoed. “Just like I always told you when you were little.”
They laughed, and Brinley thought back to the girl that she had been when she had first heard the bell ring at Morley Church. It was not so long ago, she thought, and she was not much bigger. In some ways she felt different. In some ways she had truly changed. But mostly she just felt older, as if the same shy, imaginative child that she had always known herself to be had been caught up in a whirlwind of experiences that were trying to turn her into a grown-up. There were so many people that she cared for now. So many lives that she was responsible for, in her way. Once that had seemed like a heavy thing. Now it was simple. It was joy. It was day after endless day in a magical land, surrounded by friends, with nothing to worry about but caring for the people she loved the most.
The little girl she had once been had never dared dream of a future so bright, so full, but here it was before her. Soon today would be over, and then tomorrow and her future would become her past. Who knew what dangers the future held? What adventures, what magic, what love?
She thought of Tabitha and Fitz, and then of Hugo. She reached out with her mind and brushed the minds of the mages, feeling her heart swell in different places with each touch. She lingered on Hugo, and he entered her mind. As had become their practice, she shared the thoughts of the morning with him, and then listened as he shared his.
Magemother: The Complete Series (A Fantasy Adventure Book Series for Kids of All Ages) Page 85