The Queen of Death

35

Kandler breathed in deep the scent of the open sea. From here, the sun still set over Khorvaire, but he knew that this would be the last such dusk he’d enjoy with that piece of land framed in it for some time. The sun’s dying rays lit up the sky like glowing lava, liming the clouds in pinks, purples, and reds. In the distance, he spied a flock of what looked like seagulls working their way along the shore, and he wondered for a moment if they were soarwings instead.

It had been years since Kandler had seen the ocean, and he found that he had missed it more than he’d known. He couldn’t hear the vacillating roar of the pounding surf over the crackling of the Phoenix’s ring of fire, but he watched a pod of dolphins playing in the waves and let his mind carry him back to more peaceful times when he could have enjoyed a simple day on a beach.

Growing up in Sharn, the largest city in Breland, he’d spent many a day on the shores of the Dagger River or wandering along the edge of the Hilt. On more than one occasion, his parents had brought the whole family out to Zilspar to visit family. From there they’d made ventures to the ocean proper, and Kandler had fallen in love with it. The smells always conjured thoughts of travel and adventure in his mind, and he credited those trips with inspiring the wanderlust that had caused him to join up with the Citadel as a young man.

As a Brelish agent, he’d traveled throughout much of Khorvaire. He’d seen the Lake of Fire in the Demon Wastes. He’d visited with the Old Woman of the Swamp who stared into the Pond of Shadows in the distant Shadow Marches. He’d walked through the Court of King Kaius in Karrnath, and met more diplomats and mercenaries than he could count.

Since marrying Esprina, though, he’d given up much of that. They’d only been together for a short time before the Day of Mourning—far too short—and after that he’d dedicated himself to taking care of Esprë. Bereft of her mother, she’d required much of his attention, and their bond had grown to the point that he considered her to be far more than merely a daughter by marriage.

After the end of the Last War, he’d helped found Mardakine as a means of plumbing the depths of the Mournland. He’d hoped to discover what had killed his beloved wife along with so many other souls. For whatever reason—responsibilities to Esprë, to everyone else in Mardakine—he’d never made much progress.

While he understood that he couldn’t have expected to unlock the secrets of the Mournland, his failure to do so still disappointed him. His head knew that even if he’d spent every waking moment scouring that horrible, wasted place, he probably wouldn’t have had any better luck. His heart, though, bore the guilt of not having given every moment of his life to solving that particular riddle.

He heard the footsteps behind him, soft and familiar, and he waited for her to speak. She opened her mouth and began to say something, then flung her arms around his waist instead. He turned around and embraced her as well. “What’s that for?” he said to Esprë.

The young elf smiled up at him. “I just wanted to say thanks.”

“No need,” he said, tousling her hair.

“You don’t even know what I’m thanking you for.” She grinned up at him, and his heart melted. When happy, she reminded him so much of her mother.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You don’t need to say a thing. I already know.”

“I still want to say it,” she said. “For my sake, not yours.”

“In that case, don’t let me get in your way.”

He laughed, and it came light and easy. Now that they were finally on their way across the ocean, he felt as if a millstone had been lifted from his neck. The decision had been made, and there would be no turning back. They would face their fate together.

No danger lurking behind them could do more than pale before the danger they had chosen to confront. “Thank you,” Esprë said, “for saving my life.”

“Back there?” Kandler gave her a confused look. “I didn’t do anything more than keep a wagon from crashing. You should be thanking Burch—and Te’oma, I suppose.”

“I already did.” Esprë frowned. “Thanking Te’oma wasn’t easy.”

“I don’t suspect it was. One good deed doesn’t make up for everything else.”

“She did help Burch kill Nithkorrh too.” Esprë shrugged as if to say how sad it was that there wasn’t anything they could do about it.

“I thought you came here to thank me,” said Kandler. “Sounds like I’ve been pretty useless.”

Esprë smiled and gave him another hug. “I think you’ve done a few amazing things since we left Mardakine too.” “Thanks,” he said, letting gentle sarcasm drip from his tongue.

“No, thank you.” She hesitated for a moment. “For everything. For taking me in after my mother died.”

“You’re my stepdaughter.” Kandler couldn’t conceive of having done otherwise for her.

“Yes, but that’s not always enough, is it? Don’t you know all those stories about wicked stepfathers?”

“That’s stepmothers.”

“Well, I don’t have one of them, so I can’t speak to that. I just know you came through for me at a time when you had to be suffering a lot too.”

Kandler grimaced. “Don’t worry about that,” he said in a rough voice. “Helping you out got me through he worst of it. You were there for me just as much.”

“And—and thank you for coming after me. You didn’t have to do that.”

Kandler stepped back and held Esprë out at arms’ length. “Are you mad? I’d never let anyone run off with you like that.”

“I … I know.” Esprë refused to meet Kandler’s eyes. “When Te’oma first took me, though—when she was posing as my aunt—I wondered if you’d bother to come after me to say good-bye. I know I’ve been a horrible burden on you—” “That’s not true—”

“Let me finish. Please.”

Kandler took a deep breath, then nodded. He wanted to see where it was she planned to take this conversation, even if he didn’t like its direction.

“You married my mother, not me. You’ve been a fine father to me, the first real one I’ve known.”

“When I asked your mother to marry me, I knew you two came as a package deal. That didn’t stop me.”

“The best part of that package is missing now.” She held up her hands to cut off Kandler before he could protest. “I know. It’s silly, but it’s how I felt.”

Esprë turned and looked back down the deck at the fire over which Monja, Burch, and Te’oma were roasting the soarwing. Sallah had the wheel, and Xalt stood on the bridge with her to keep her company and to help with the navigation.

“When I figured out who Te’oma really was—or wasn’t, I suppose—I resigned myself to my fate. I didn’t dare hope that you’d come after me. The last I’d seen of Mardakine, it had been going up in flames, and I had no idea if you’d been killed or not. I figured I’d have to start doing things on my own.

“That didn’t work so well. I never would have survived if you hadn’t come after me. I’d have been stuck in that tower with Majeeda forever—or at least until she contacted my father and arranged to accompany me back to Aerenal. Then I’d have ended up in the hands of the Undying Court, or the Stillborn, or worse.”

“You underestimate yourself. You always did.”

“Sure,” Esprë said with a weak smile. “I might have managed to get away on my own, I suppose, but they would have just tracked me down again. Even with you, how many times did Te’oma alone snatch me in those first few days?” Kandler smirked. “I think I lost track. She’s a tenacious one.”

“Right up until Ibrido broke her neck, at least.”

“She held on right through that too. A lot of people would have given up and died.”

Esprë shrugged. “The point is that I would have never made it through all this without you. I just wanted to thank you for that.”

“You should thank the others too,” Kandler said, trying hard to not sound ungrateful. “They had just as much to do with it as I did.”

“Don’t fool yourself,” Esprë said. “Without you, they’d all be dead.”

“Even Burch?”

The girl grinned. “Maybe not Burch.”

Esprë wrapped her arms around Kandler and pulled him into a long hug. “I love you, Kandler,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

“I love you too.”