320) The Salvation of Eden, Epilogue

The dark waters stilled, returning to their usual black mirrored surface, now reflecting only the single candle burning, revealing nothing of what had been so plainly visible a moment before. Galen always found it difficult to look away, his heart yearning for just one more glimpse. It was always this way, not wanting to stop. It was why they could only approach the pool together.

But he wrenched his gaze away, first resting it on Clarion, as always.

“Nice dress,” Falcor taunted her. “How come you don’t wear silver more often?”

“You mean how come I don’t wear nothing more often, Falcor,” she replied coolly, returning his smirk.

Her elegant features indicated nothing of her actual thoughts to the others. But Galen knew. They had seen everything, been everywhere, together. Even her impassivity was poetry. She was satisfied. Angry, at the knife-edge on which they were balanced, but satisfied.

“You were right,” he nodded to the short, reddish-blonde woman seated next to him, eyes wide with wonder, as they always were. Her vivacious smile leapt out like a friendly dog.

“I knew they could do it,” Ms. B replied.

“Bloody well barely,” the black-clad warrior growled beside her. His granite cheeks were rutted with scars, dark eyes penetrating everything in the room as though all objects, all people, were mere mist, parting to his gaze like soft flesh to a properly-sharpened blade. He placed his gauntleted fists on the table, rising smoothly to stand over all of them, a dark tower of impenetrability.

“And what predictably noble suggestion does our resident Paladin have for us today?” the hawk-nosed man from across the table asked, smirking. “Let me guess, we —”

“We should help them,” Wraith interrupted.

Falcor’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly.”

Wraith didn’t respond. He wouldn’t give the old Mage the satisfaction of knowing just how much he got under his skin.

Ms. B reached out, placing a slender hand on his arm. “Not yet. Right now we would only draw attention to them.”

“I wouldn’t.” Clarion spoke softly, her voice slipping through the room, compelling by its quietness, alluring, with an undertone of death.

Galen smiled. He so loved hearing her.

Ms. B nodded. “Yes, they will need you. Not for some time. I think. But don’t lose them.”

Clarion cocked an eyebrow.

Ms. B laughed. “I know, I know….” She paused, looking suddenly serious. “You must not interfere until they retrieve it. No matter what.” Her eyes flitted over to Galen for a moment. She knew he wasn’t going to like this. “It’s going to be…rough. But it has to be, or they’ll be found. And then, we’re out of options.”

“What if they’re clearly about to die?” Clarion’s voice was an Arctic wind.

Ms. B lowered her head slowly, somber, like she was laying a child in a fresh grave. When she looked up, her eyes were hard, like diamonds. “Then they die.”

Galen opened his mouth to object, but stopped himself. He knew it was futile. This argument had already taken place, hundreds of times. It always ended the same.

“I agree with Wraithy-boy on this one,” Falcor grumped. “That was too close. I’m not sitting back any longer.”

“You have to.” Galen’s response was sharp.

“I don’t ‘have to’ do anything, tree-hugger,” Falcor grinned, taking a sip from his gold flask. “I already lost one of my best friends to this.”

“Not your only friend.” Wraith’s voice rattled like dead leaves tickled by a midnight breeze.

“Shhh.” Ms B held a finger to her lips. “This Veil is slipping. We have only moments left. Falcor, you’re right; you don’t have to. But please, for all of us, wait a little longer.” She paused. “You have seen how it goes otherwise.”

His eyes flashed with anger, but he knew she was right. “We’re lucky they had that snake.”

She smiled. “Lucky, yes.”

His eyes probed hers, hoping as always to find out just how much this woman knew, and how much of these threads she was weaving herself. But she wasn’t giving anything away, her face as open and inviting, and inscrutable, as always.

“So let me guess, keep an eye on Jarill?”

She nodded. “You know we must.”

“Fool’s going to get himself killed.”

Ms B shook her head. “He’s going to surprise you, Falcor. I hope. There’s more, much more, in that swamp than he realizes. But when They decide to end his meddling, he WILL need you.”

Falcor grumbled something unintelligible.

Wraith’s head turned slightly, as though he was listening to something far away. “It’s time.”

She nodded. “Stay the course, friend.”

One thump of his fist on his chest, a nod to each of them, and he stomped out of the room, armour clanking. One thing about Wraith, he’d never sneak up on anyone. The door slammed shut and his steps thudded and crunched down the laneway. Moments later, a whinny, and the night was still once again.

Clarion and Galen embraced, lingering as Galen buried his nose in her hair. Falcor rolled his eyes, and then Clarion was gone.

Falcor sighed. “Oh fine. I’m outta here.” He winked at Galen. “Don’t lose your head.” Swirling one finger, he opened a tiny, dark hole in mid-air. His body disintegrated into dust, pouring into the hole like grains of sand flowing through the spout of an hourglass.

Galen laughed. “Always the show-off.”

He walked out into the night with Ms. B, gazing up at the Milky Way, the black sky scintillating like an infinite field of fireflies. He hoped the day would come when others would be able to experience the universe again.

“And I?”

“Wait for her call, Galen. That’s all there is to be done, for now.”

“Any idea where she’ll be? Or what I should prepare for?”

She hesitated, her bright blue eyes searching his. Then she pointed. Straight down.

He sighed. Well, wouldn’t be the first time.

They embraced. He knew not to ask her when they would meet again. The future only unfolds as it should if it is unknown (or at least mostly unknown).

“Take care of yourself.” He kissed her cheek, then stood back.

A parrot rose over the treetops, silhouetted momentarily against the bright moon.

“And you, dear Friend,” she whispered, laughing to herself. That ridiculous parrot form he loved so much; he always made her laugh.

Alone again, under the stars that almost nobody knew existed anymore, Ms. B exhaled, watching her breath mist outward, connecting her to everything in the worlds. She wondered, momentarily, how Ian was doing. But, he’d pull through until she got back. He always did.

She could sense Them, searching. But with the others gone, she could keep this spot hidden. For a while longer, anyway. It would have to be long enough.

She wished a silent “Thank you” up to the stars.

This much was clear: the Prophecy had been found, and the Sword as well. She had worked for practically her entire life to ensure that they would be found together, by people with good hearts. And somehow, it had worked.

She felt a whisper of pride. “Ms B’s kids,” she murmured. “Maybe they’ll save the world after all.”

She stepped lightly across the dew-sparkled field-grass and wildflowers.

So far, so good.