“Why, honored Moraina?” the Fyrst asked.
“What has gone around is coming around, Your Grace,” Moraina said. “What was once fae land is now becoming fae land again, under an elfin king. One who is tied strongly to us. As was farseen—”
“You are saying, then, honored Moraina,” Laurel asked, his voice careful, “that you came across a prophecy that said that the land would be ours once more? And for this you transgressed your own beliefs against ciphering?”
“No, not prophecy,” Moraina said. “Not obscure ramblings open to every manipulation by lackwits, fanatics, and the insane. I did a farseeing, and that made me hire a scribe.” She settled her wings against her back with a soft rustling sound. “A check was needed on the human kingdom’s fervent belief that what was ours should be theirs until the farseeing came to pass, and I thought a treaty would be the best way.” She sighed. “It never occurred to me that we’d be the ones who would need to be stopped.”
“But why?” Wyln asked. “Why not allow the humans to attack us? With what happened last time they did, we would have had the land back that much sooner.”
“Yes, perhaps,” Moraina said. “But again, perhaps not. Right now we do have it, and without striking a single blow in anger. With very strong ties that bind us together.”
“A dragon advocating peace,” Javes murmured. “Extraordinary.”
“It is wisdom,” Moraina said.
“A dark elf who is linked to only one lineage, and, if I understand it right, through a hated House,” Suiden said, recovering from the shock of realizing that he’d bargained my life away to the elves. “A king who rules the entire land, not answerable to anyone, the Fyrst’s declarations notwithstanding. Will the northern clans accept these ties, Sra Moraina? Will all the Borderlands?”
The Moraina’s sapphire eyes rested on the dragon prince. “Who said anything about the king of Iversterre?”
It grew quiet again.
“All right,” another eorl called out. “Who are you talking about?”
Moraina turned her head to me.
The entire courtyard erupted in laughter. After all, they’d just seen me bare-arsed. Lin, though, at another window, nodded. The bard noted that, his fingers now flying over the strings of his lute.
“Just how is he supposed to accomplish this great feat of unification?” the first eorl asked.
“Covenanted to Laurel Faena,” Moraina replied, her brilliant eyes still on me. “Three times sworn to King Jusson. Cyhn to Enchanter Wyln. Declared of Loran the Fyrst’s line. Lieutenant in His Majesty’s Royal Army under Captain Prince Suiden. Ibn Chause and eso Flavan. Chosen of the moon ghosts. Nephew of Vice Admiral Havram ibn Chause. Mage-born. Son of Two Trees and Lark. Truth rune on his hand. Sixty-four degrees to the throne. Baptized and catechized into the human Church. Brother Paedrig’s student. Keeper of my favor. A fourth time sworn to his cousin the king to bring peace.” The wind swirled in through the open windows, carrying fluttering butterflies.
“It seems that Queen Mab has taken an interest in him too,” Moraina said.
Lin smiled, showing her teeth.
“He doesn’t have to do anything,” the dragoness continued. “He’s already done it by getting himself so tangled between the fae and the human that not even your Lady Gaia could get him undone.” She also smiled. “Because he is so very much ours as he is so very much the human kingdom’s, we will therefore share in who he is, and so he becomes the bridge that spans us, leading us back to where we can both begin anew.” The courtyard fell silent again, everyone impressed in spite of themselves.
“The lark ascending, honored Moraina?” I asked, remembering my dream aboard the Dauntless.
Moraina’s smile became gentle (for a dragon). “Yes, young human. If we are fortunate.”
There was a stir in the back of the courtyard and Moraina turned her head. People parted and bowed as Molyu made her way towards us. The blood was gone from her face, but she’d drawn a red line from her eye down her cheek. As she reached the doorway and paused, I could see behind her the sun sinking through the last remnants of the storm clouds. Almost the end of the last day of spring—and the moon season.
Her Grace’s eyes lit on the Fyrst and she smiled. “It is time, my husband.”
The sun hovered above the ocean as several silk-draped carts, loaded with pelts, skins, bones and wood, started out from the castle. In the lead was His Grace, Loran the Fyrst, dressed in elfin splendor, his great sword on his back. Laurel Faena came next, holding the reins of a horse also draped in silk, upon which Prudence Oak’s body and Dragon Gwyyn’s skin were placed. After the rattle of crossing the moat bridge, the only sound was the muffled clop of the horses’ hooves and the swish of the wheels against the sand road. And the soft thud of our boots, as the human contingent was allowed to walk behind the carriages. Lord Esclaur first as an emissary of King Jusson IV, Vice Admiral Havram next as the Royal Navy representative, Captains Suiden and Javes, and then the rest of the troopers at the last.
The park was still and dark, the gloom undisturbed until flashes appeared among the trees, few at first, then more, as the haunts we’d left in the clearing joined in the procession, until they were a thick stream behind us. We exited the park and stepped onto cobbled streets, but even then there was no noise. I looked down and saw grass and meadow flowers thickly carpeting the stones.
We wound through the city, its citizens lining the streets, caps and hats off, heads bowed as the cortege went by, until at last we came to a square overlooking the ocean. We were joined there by the town folk, Dragoness Moraina, Wyln, Molyu, my da, and other dignitaries, who helped placed the bodies on a pyre. Then, as the sun descended into the water, last rites were held for all the haunts who journeyed with us. Basel stood next to me, striking his pose with his antlers held high, Honor Ash on the other side, the unicorn with her, the leopard next to Lieutenant Groskin, the rest intermingled with those alive. They all were quiet as various vicars took turns in the ceremony for the dead. To my surprise, Brother Paedrig was last and his sweet tenor was a soaring counterpoint over the basso roar of the sea.
“To the last embrace, to return to that from which we were formed,” the brother said.
“To the last embrace.” I blinked and the troopers stirred a little in surprise at the Fyrst, Wyln, Dragoness Moraina, Laurel, and the fae of the city joining in our responses.
“Until the day we are summoned forth,” Brother Paedrig said.
“Until the new morn when we shall arise anew,” we said. The leopard stood, stretched and affectionately butted Groskin. The haunt then turned and started walking towards the ocean. Groskin watched, his eyes glinting gold.
“All corruption left behind in the cleansing earth,” Brother Paedrig said.
“All shining with joy, reflecting God’s glory,” we said. Other haunts started pulling away and moving towards the water.
“The earth keep you,” Brother Paedrig said.
“The earth enfold and keep you safe,” we said. Honor reached across me and touched Basel. Basel turned his head towards her, then on his delicate stag legs joined her and the unicorn as they went to the square’s edge and over.
“Peace,” Brother Paedrig said.
“Peace and rest be yours,” we said. I turned my head to see them flow out over the water into the last rays of the setting sun.
“Goodbye, Basel, Honor,” I said, tasting salt. I wiped my wet face as the Fyrst, Laurel, Suiden and Moraina picked up torches and lit the pyre. As it burned, the outline of a dragon rose, spread his wings and took off, flying over the waves. On his back I could just make out a sprite with oak leaves in her hair.