Epilogue

Somewhere in Kittyana, a dirty little urchin hopped on top of a dirty, rickety stool and stared down at the man lying in her bed. He’d been sleeping in her bed for months now, and she was getting really sick of having to share with her older brother Bradly. Bradly was thirteen, and he snored something fierce, and half of the time she ended up on the floor because he rolled her right off in the middle of the night. She’d asked her parents why she couldn’t just sleep with Jayk or Markus, her two oldest brothers. Neither one of them snored, and their beds were big enough for two.

Her parents had simply told her no. Nothing more, nothing less. She suspected, however, that their denial had something to do with the fact that her two oldest brothers usually had company in their beds already.

If they were less interested in swiving and more interested in the comfort of their ten-year-old sister, she might have actually gotten a decent night’s rest at some point in these past few months. It was hard having to work the fields on little to no sleep. If she were a different sort of girl, she might have spent her time inside, helping her mother cook and clean like most little girls did. Wynn was simply not cut out for girly stuff like that, however. She’d much rather be out in the fields, helping to harvest the crop, or in the barn with Jayk, helping with his blacksmithery.

Right now, however, she would much, much rather be sleeping in her own bed. Every day she found herself regretting the charitable actions that had driven her to fish the stupid man out of the river.

If he would just wake up already…

Just as she was thinking these thoughts, the man started to stir. Wynn’s heart clutched a little as she remembered her mama’s rule. She was absolutely not supposed to be anywhere near this man when neither of her parents were in the house. For all they knew, he was a murderer or a rapist or something crazy like that. If there was one thing about Wynn, however, it was that she lived to disobey rules. If she never disobeyed the rules, when would she ever get to feel this thrill of fear and excitement at knowing that she was doing something wrong?

The man’s eyes slowly opened. They were a pretty color, sort of like the river she’d dragged him from, bleeding and near death. “W-where am I?” he stammered, his voice hoarse. They’d spent the past few months forcing food and water down his throat while he slept, as per the instructions of a local doctor, but surely he was still parched. Wynn knew that she, at least, could put back about a gallon of water a day, maybe two if she was out in the fields. The only thing about consuming that much water was that she always had to piss, and that was one thing that really sucked about being a girl. She couldn’t just whip it out in the fields like her brothers did. She had to go find a bush to squat behind.

Stupid boys.

“Nowhere,” the girl advised him as she grabbed the pitcher of water they kept by his bedside and poured him a glass. When he just looked confused, she grinned and handed him the clay cup. “Really. This is just a farm. No cities anywhere close by. You’re squat in the middle of nowhere, shithead.”

The man spewed out the mouthful of water he’d just taken all over himself. “Did you just call me…shithead?” he asked with utter disbelief.

“Yup,” she said proudly. Shithead was one of her brothers’ favorite words, and while Wynn didn’t quite understand what was so great about it, she loved that her liberal use of it drove her parents insane.

“I’m not in nowhere,” he muttered. “I’m in hell. This is definitely hell. A dark and foul hell.”

“You’re whiny, you know that?” Wynn said, cocking her head to the side as she considered him. He looked like a bit of a pansy, but he really was nice to look at, with his brilliant red hair and sparkling blue eyes. And he was strong; he had to be, to survive so many knife wounds to the back and a dip in the river.

“And you’re filthy. When was the last time you took a bath?”

“What’s a bath?” When his expression turned horrified, she chuckled with glee. This man was definitely not a murderer or a rapist. He was way too proper. “Lighten up, shithead, I was just kidding. I took one two days ago, and a dip in the river this morning, but you get dirty quick on a farm.”

“My name is not shithead,” the man said stiffly, formally, “and I would appreciate it if you would not refer to me as one.”

“Then what is your name?”

He paused, as if considering whether or not to tell her. Finally, he said, “My name is Ly.”

“Like you don’t tell the truth?” she asked doubtfully, scrunching up her nose.

“It’s just a nickname. My full name’s kind of long and annoying, apparently,” he advised. “What’s your name?”

“Wynn.” She pounded her chest with one fist. “I’m ten,” she said proudly.

A ghost of a smile touched Ly’s lips. “A very big and mature ten, I see.”

All right. Maybe he wasn’t so bad, after all.

“Where’d you come from?” she wondered. “How’d you get stuck?”

“Kistle, and that, my dear girl, is a long story.”

“You live in Kistle?” she wondered. “I think it’s not too far from here. Maybe just a few miles.”

“No, no. I had traveled there, but I actually live in Kurish. At the castle.”

Her jaw dropped. “You live in the capital? At the castle? With the king?” When he nodded, she said, “Well, damn. I guess you’re going to go running home as soon as you’re feeling better.” She knew that she would, anyway. The bloody castle? This man was lucky!

“Actually…” He looked hesitantly down at his blanket as he toyed with some of the frayed threads.

“What…you don’t want to go home?” she asked, shocked. Why wouldn’t he want to return to a life of luxury and ease at the capital city? Wynn would kill for a life like that! No more mucking or planting or beating on pieces of metal…while she might prefer the dirtier jobs, that didn’t mean she liked them. She just liked them better than cooking and cleaning.

“Things are sort of complicated there,” he admitted. “To tell you the truth, I had sort of run away. I meant to go back, but now…well, now I’m thinking maybe I won’t. Not for a while, anyway.” He paused, looking at her very seriously with those startling eyes of his.

“Do you think your parents could use an extra hand around the farm?” he asked her.

She looked at him doubtfully. “I don’t know. You look like a bit of a wimp.”

“I assure you I am not. In fact, Shaun Damarkin himself has dubbed me a worthy man. Do you know who Shaun Damarkin is?”

Wynn snorted. “Doesn’t everyone?”

He smiled, as if he’d known she would find his association with Shaun Damarkin impressive. “You’ll put in a good word for me with your folks, then?”

She sighed. “Yeah, I guess. Under one condition, though.”

“What’s that?”

“You get the hell out of my bed.”

Ly looked at her for a moment, and then he burst into laughter. For some reason, Wynn suspected this was the first time he’d laughed, truly laughed, in a long time.

Yeah, she definitely liked him. Maybe, if he was lucky, she might even decide she wanted to marry him. When she grew up, of course.

He really did have very pretty eyes...

Author’s Note: And that’s the end of Book 2. Book 3 is going to be about Emry; I’m still formulating the detailed plan for that book, but I have a pretty good idea of how it’s going to go. And since I know that someone is going to ask, yes, Lyskander is going to have a story. Just not in this series. I had originally intended to hook him up with that harp-playing girl from Book 1 in one of the future books (the one that will be about Regan), but then I got this really great idea for a different, separate romance for him and decided I would save it for a short story (sort of like I intend to do for Jaymon in the Prophecy of Nature series, though I haven’t already planned his whole story out like I have with Lyskander’s). So anyway, it’ll be a while on that one. And since I don’t think I’ve done so yet, I guess I can go ahead and lay out who the rest of the books are going to be about. I know I always like to know in advance when I’m going to get to read what character’s story, and all of the main characters have either been mentioned or introduced by this point.

Book 3: Emry (and Emmi)

Book 4: Grif (and, of course, Mak)

Book 5: Regan (and Grif’s sister, who was mentioned very briefly in Book 1)

Book 6: Grif’s “employer” (and the Prophetess)