EPILOGUE

“Forgive me for doubting you, daughter.” Sir Kemry offered Kale a plate of food.

She scooted over on the log she used as a seat and balanced the dish on her knee. Her moonbeam cape slipped, and she used one hand to resettle it on her shoulder. The chilly night air brushed her cheek. Kale glanced at Sir Kemry as he settled on the log. “How did you doubt me?”

Her father gestured with his fork. “Look around. We’ve walked into your mural at Black Jetty.”

Kale’s head swiveled as she took in her surroundings. Regidor and Gilda stood by the fire with Dar. Paladin stood off to the side, talking to Bardon. But her husband was almost invisible in the shadows of a bentleaf tree. The minor dragons decorated a bush where they’d found a horde of night beetles.

“The grave?” Kale peered toward the other bentleaf tree.

“Not there.” Sir Kemry took her hand in his. “Perhaps it’s a figurative grave and not a resting spot for one individual.”

Kale’s throat closed as she thought of those who had died. Three dear dragons came to mind first. Then the homes she’d seen ravaged by armies and obliterated by the flames of fire dragons. The blackened forest on the other side of the river was just one spot scorched by the war. More than property and livelihoods had been destroyed. Each of the high races had lost many people.

Where others had lost sons, fathers, mothers, friends, and spouses, Kale sat by her father, could see her husband, and knew her mother helped in a field hospital. Very soon, her dragon eggs would hatch. She had the promise of new life tucked in the scarf at her waist. Even her injuries had been cured.

She stood and handed her untouched dinner to her father. “I have to talk to Paladin.”

Sir Kemry nodded.

She trudged toward the clump of trees where she had seen him last. He still talked to Bardon. Did she want Bardon to hear what she had done?

She’d have to. She walked across the camp site. Paladin might be needed someplace else and be gone before she had a chance to ask him if certain things were her fault. If she were guilty.

She felt guilty.

Bardon put his arm around her as she came up beside him. The stiff muscles felt odd across her shoulders.

Kale managed a curtsy while encumbered by her husband’s embrace. It made all three smile.

Paladin looked hale and hearty with the grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eye.

Kale blinked back tears and made her voice sound cheerful. “I’m glad you are well, sir.”

“When you mindspoke to the dragons and it carried on to the citizens of Amara, they shook off the stupor that had blinded them to their true desire. Our people knew they wanted to follow Wulder more than they wanted to avoid conflict. With the renewed life in their hearts, I grew stronger. Strong enough to lead the army.”

Kale swallowed. “I’m sure everyone was happy to see you.”

“I didn’t lead them all. Small factions rose up and defeated the enemy forces in their own regions. But the rightly focused commitment expressed by individual members of our society strengthened the whole.” Paladin tilted his head as he looked down at her. “What’s wrong, Kale?”

“Dar told me about the battles that raged after I spoke to the dragons in the valley. So many were killed.”

The solemn expression on Paladin’s face did not change. Bardon’s arm curled inward a bit to embrace her as best he could.

“If I had not given that speech, there would not be tears and grief in more than half the homes of our people.”

Paladin still didn’t speak.

Bardon shifted beside her. “Kale, if the people had not defended their homes, the scourge of Pretender would still have a stronghold in their lives.”

Kale shook her head, and tears flowed down her cheeks. “If I hadn’t drained all my energy, Ardeo, Alton, and Benrey would have lived.”

“Kale—”

“No, Bardon. Ardeo and Alton died trying to get me to safety when I couldn’t fight to help protect us. Benrey died in the fight against Crim Cropper because I had no energy to pull together a wizard’s defense.”

She leaned against Bardon, and he brought his other arm up to encircle her. He placed his forehead on her temple and whispered. “In a battle, we do what we can. We aren’t always in the correct position to do the most good.”

Paladin touched Kale’s arm. “She understands that, Bardon. She also knows she did what she did in obedience to Wulder, so the resulting consequences are His responsibility, not hers. She had to expend her energy without her father’s aid so he would have the resources to fight Crim Cropper or Pretender, whichever one showed up to do battle.”

Kale’s eyes came up to look at Paladin’s face.

“Tell me, Kale. There’s something else. What distresses you? Why do you feel such guilt?”

“Pretender’s orb. I took Pretender’s orb. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew if I held it, I would not be able to put it down. I gave in just a little, but I knew this moment of weakness would mean that Pretender had gained power over me. Once I allowed him to manipulate me, the next time it would be easier for him to tempt me and for me to give in.”

“And still you took his gift?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do with the orb?”

“You know, don’t you? You know it all.”

“Yes, but you need to tell me.”

“I held it, and it made the pain go away. But I knew holding it was wrong. In the caves, I didn’t want to be with the people there. I didn’t want to be with my own dragons. I felt worthless and as if my presence would damage those around me.”

“But you broke the orb. Why?”

“Because I needed the energy within it to help my father.”

Paladin gently squeezed her arm. “Your love for your father was stronger than the hold Pretender had on you.”

Kale wanted Paladin and Bardon to understand. They couldn’t possibly know how wretched she’d been. They had to fully comprehend to forgive her. “I took the orb because of the pain.”

“Wulder would have provided another remedy, had you been able to hold on.”

Kale studied Paladin’s expression.

He nodded so slightly she almost didn’t see it. “I believe,” he said, “that Gilda had a potion with her to help ease the pain.”

Bardon rubbed his face against Kale’s head. His stubble caught at the fine hair. To Kale, the scratchiness felt wonderful.

“I thank Wulder,” said her husband, “for bringing you through all that. When I stepped out of the gateway and into Paladin’s palace, I had no idea if you were still alive. The last I saw of Cropper, he was determined to annihilate the world, starting with you.”

Kale’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I don’t understand that. It was father’s dragon who bit off his wife’s head.”

“Maybe he didn’t have the facts straight.”

Paladin chuckled. “That sounds like a possibility. Not having the facts straight can cause all sorts of havoc.”

“I have one more question, sir,” said Kale.

“Yes?”

“Why was I able to use something created by Pretender for evil to do good? I didn’t think through what the consequences might be. I just threw it down to break it open.”

“The orb?” guessed Bardon.

She nodded.

Paladin put his hand up to his chin and rubbed as he thought. “Pretender did not make the energy. He contained it in the glass sphere. Energy is no more bad than water is. You could use water to refresh a thirsty man or drown him.”

He put both hands on his hips and stared up into the sky. “Now that the threat of evil is at bay, we will have the rebuilding of Amara ahead of us. And we must be sure at the foundation, our citizens are choosing to share what water they have and not drown their neighbors.”

“What will you have us do?” asked Bardon.

Paladin clapped a hand on his knight’s shoulder. “Just what is right in front of you.”