The Road's End
Page 35
The new house looked about the same as the old one, though the pale yellow color had been replaced with a deeper gold. It was angled on the lot to look over a grove of brand-new apple trees, where the other houses in the development once stood.
Becky and Matt descended the ridge and made their way among the young trees. “Who’s that?” Becky asked, shielding her eyes from the sun’s glare with the side of her hand. There was a young girl playing on a swing set near the house. “It can’t be—”
At the sight of Matt and Becky approaching, the girl on the swing ground her heels into the new grass and cried out. “Mama! Mama, come out!”
Emily, a year older than when her brother and sister last saw her, ran to the end of the yard. “Ohhh!” Jill McCormack cried as she stepped out onto the porch and looked where Emily was pointing.
A moment later the little girl and her mother were running toward Matt and Becky. Matt felt his legs churning beneath him, too, as if they had a mind of their own. Becky puffed, racing at her brother’s side. Matt felt overwhelmed, but it wasn’t despair, or hopelessness, or fear, this time. It took a moment for him to realize it was joy that was flooding him, pure, unadulterated happiness. His mother was grabbing Becky and holding on to her for dear life. She was crying. Matt felt dampness on his cheeks and realized he was crying, too. “I never stopped looking for you,” his mother said. Her voice was deep and raw and she drew Matt close. “I never stopped believing!”
“Neither did I,” called Matt’s father, running up from the orchard.
“Dad!” Matt cried, and raced into his father’s arms.
In two worlds that thrived, side by side, a thousand dangers lay in wait; the future was to be full of surprises, some good, and some bad. But suddenly every worry seemed as fleeting as a bad dream or a half-forgotten memory of another time. Matt’s and Becky’s hearts had led them halfway around the planet toward home. And for the moment, there was no better place in all the world, or in any other world, for them to be.
trilogy, I’ve been addressing the meaning and value of sacrifice. Humanity has long considered the moral, political, and spiritual implications of the ways in which we give for the benefit of our fellow beings. An individual in a society may willingly make small sacrifices for the good of the whole, such as putting in time at the local soup kitchen, cleaning up the park, reading to seniors in nursing homes, or bigger commitments like working with the Peace Corps or Habitat for Humanity. On the other hand, he or she may be compelled to sacrifice for the good of the whole, as in the case of mandatory military service, jury duty, and paying taxes. Although the concept of sacrifice is pertinent to all of us, it is particularly so for you, the next generation. Building a sustainable future will require much sacrifice. We are at once individuals and members of a collective. How we choose to work for our own personal benefit and growth, and balance that with concern and generosity for our fellows, determines how our character will be judged. It’s also the measure of how successful we’ll be at maintaining a healthy and stable world. Today much of the world’s environment is in flux—polar caps are melting; water levels are rising; animal habitat is being destroyed by these “natural” phenomena as well as by humanity’s efforts, such as irresponsible fishing, logging, drilling, and mining. We’re leaving an ever-growing ecological footprint. What sacrifices will humans make to ensure that our environment remains livable down the road?
The lives of the Faerie Folk that populate Elf Realm are shaped by their environment and their belief systems, much like our own. Since Elves and Trolls are “allergic” to metal, they inhabit in many respects a pre–Bronze Age, pre-scientific culture, with limitations and peculiarities unique to such a civilization. The Mage of Hunaland, for example, practices a form of numerology (a field that I have studied as well). Ancient tradition posits the relationship of each letter in a person’s name to a number, which reveals aspects of personality as well as foretelling an individual’s future. There may be little “science” in astrology, as opposed to astronomy, or alchemy, as opposed to chemistry, but there is a spiritual component in many of these ancient studies that continues to make them compelling to modern people.
As I conclude this trilogy, I wish once again to express my gratitude to my editor, Howard Reeves, who has labored uncomplainingly at my side to make sure that Elf Realm adheres to the basic rules of continuity, common sense, and storytelling. Without Howard’s eagle-eyed overview, my work would be more flawed and less entertaining. Scott Auerbach did much more than make sure the spelling, punctuation, and grammar were correct; he helped to ensure consistency from book to book—a hefty responsibility with all of my proper names and eccentric spellings! As before, Jason Wells and Chad Beckerman have applied their invaluable expertise to cement the edifice that is Elf Realm: Chad, with Melissa Arnst, in helping to make the books beautiful, and Jason, in helping them find their audience. Long may the Amulet flag fly!
Finally, the artwork for these books could not have been executed without the help of my models, Miranda, Ivy, Raleigh, Russell, Greg, and Julia. May all of us be blessed, in the name of the Mother and her Cord.
has written and illustrated a number of bestselling picture books for children. He lives in Glen Ridge, New Jersey, with his wife, three children, and a rabbit. For more information about him, visit his Web site: www.danielkirk.com.
by Chad W. Beckerman and designed by Chad W. Beckerman and Melissa Arnst. The text is set in Cochin, a typeface designed by Georges Peignot and named for the eighteenth-century French engraver Nicolas Cochin. The font incorporates a mix of style elements and could be considered part of the Neorenaissance movement in typography. It was popular at the beginning of the twentieth century.
The illustrations in this book were made with charcoal pencil on Arches watercolor paper.