Part 10 of Dominion of the Hyacinth!  I hope you've enjoyed reading!

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Epilogue


Unable to do anything to help the hawks, once they were all dressed, they accepted Christina's invitation to a real meal at her husband's tavern a short walk from the barracks. The tavern, which sported a kingfisher lifting a tankard to its beak with its toes, was modest in comparison to the Deaf Mule or the other taverns in Keeptowne, but it was clean, with sweet smelling candles and lanterns that cast a warm light in almost every corner, sturdy long tables with enough space between each to keep tails from being stepped on, and plenty of thick, frothing ale, smoked fish, and savory bread to sate all their appetites.

Murikeer was not content to trust that Weyden would keep Jessica safe, and so had tied a very small tracking spell to his wings as they made ready to leave. So even as he ate and drank, enjoying the company of his friends, and the bemused glances that Christina gave them all when she served them their drinks, he could feel along that spell through the discomfort it brought him to know how the hawks were doing.

With the storm overhead there was nowhere for him or the others to go so they relaxed in the tavern telling stories, eating, drinking, and doing their best not to talk about their recent three hours of childhood. Murikeer enjoyed watching his friends relax and enjoy themselves, even if it wasn't until the storm grew its worst over the lake, pounding the tavern roof and flashing in the narrow windows that he was able to relax.

He could feel through his little spell Weyden's relief. He wasn't sure where the hawks were beyond their general direction, but wherever it was they must be safe. By that hour is was late and he knew that they would have to either accept Naomi's offer of a place in the barracks to sleep or find a room for himself. Lester, Christina's husband, boasted about the half-dozen rooms he had available and the skunk mage was leaning toward seeing if they were as comfortable as the leopard claimed.

A familiar figure settled in next to him with a fresh tankard of ale. The raccoon grinned and dipped his snout into the froth and lapped it clean. "Ah, a very satisfying way to end the day. It is good to work together again, is it not, Muri?"

"We didn't do much," Muri said with a shrug. "But at least the hawks are safe now."

"I know," Rickkter grinned, his striped tail flicking upward and almost landing on the bench. "Tracking spells are wonderful things."

"I didn't see yours," the skunk admitted with a nod of his head. "You are getting better at that, master." The last he added with a chortle. Rickkter had long since recognized Murikeer's mastery in magic and was content to be friend rather than tutor and mentor.

"Who says I cast my own?" The raccoon's snout broke into another smile as he glanced across several tables to where Charles and James the donkey were enjoying their evening meal. He then sipped his ale again. "I trust things are still well with you and Kozaithy?"
"They are. She's enjoying the country far more than the Keep."

"Have you taken on any more students, besides her and Lady Kimberly?"

"Not as of yet. Kozaithy still summons more smoke than flame, but Kimberly is proving herself capable." Murikeer nodded and wrapped his paw about the mazer of half drunk ale sitting on the table in front of him. "Kimberly is more skilled with magic than I had first suspected, but it will be many years yet before I teach her anything more dangerous than lighting candles." He smiled fondly remembering their last session a few days ago. "She says she hopes that I would teach her children if any of them show any talent. She was dancing a witchlight around and letting her children try and catch it. That was... a true wonder."

The raccoon's eyes grew distant and in them the skunk saw the hint of a pleasant memory. But the moment past with a blink and Rickkter's gaze returned to him. "Do you recall, when I first took you on as an apprentice, why I was reluctant to do so? The welfare of the student; this is an obligation a master possesses by virtue of being master." He nodded toward the rat. "She is your obligations, same as you were mine."

"I know that," Muri replied with a frown. "Why are you..." he followed the raccoon's gaze and saw the table where Charles and James were attempting to drink with their arms intertwined. "So it's about him."

"He's the last of the Marzac party still here in the valley. The taint of Marzac has not been cleaned from him. After today I do not think it is a matter of if anymore. It is only a matter of when he turns toward that evil." He lifted his mazer to his snout but did not drink. "And when that happens, and it will happen, I think the best person to save him will be Lady Kimberly and his children. But at the same time, they will be in greater danger than the rest of us." He narrowed his eyes and fixed Muri with a stern gaze. "You need to make sure she's prepared for it."

He took a deep breath and licked the back of his fangs. "I will try to protect her and prepare her. But why would she be better able to help him?"

"Because those we love have always been the ones who have helped. Jessica had Weyden, James had Baerle, and Kayla had me. It will be Kimberly or perhaps one of his children. But she's going to need help preparing her for what Marzac will do to her husband. It may already be twisting his mind and we just haven't seen it."

Murikeer lapped at his ale and grimaced. "Charles has told her about Marzac and she knows what happened to James. She's not stupid. She knows what it means for Charles."

"Yes, but knowing and saying out loud are two different things. If she sees anything, then she needs to say something. Charles, to my knowledge does not have any artifacts that could talk to him. Kayla had the swords, James the bell, and Jessica the hyacinth. I cannot think of anything Charles might have. Perhaps Kimberly can spot some early signs of the possession?"

"Perhaps," Muri conceded though in his heart he hoped that there would still be some way yet for Charles to avoid the corruption. "I will be sure to speak with Kimberly tomorrow. She is due for another lesson anyway. But Rick, this is going to upset her very deeply."

"Such is Marzac," Rickkter took a long swill of ale and sloshed it between his fangs before swallowing. A little dribbled out either side of his jowls and he wiped them on his sleeve. "And you know what... even with all this, I'm still pissed that I didn't get to go with them into that hell!"

Murikeer managed a laugh. But his eye kept straying to the rat a few tables away. What evil would Marzac seek through him? He dipped his snout into his mazer and drank. He would not sleep well tonight.

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Mother Wilfrida, unable to sleep, waddled along the makeshift convent still under construction. The storm had passed Metamor a few hours ago, but still her mind could not settle itself. The mallard knew that something must be amiss for her to find it so hard to take her sleep. In a couple of hours she and the other sisters would rise for the early morning prayers before they began a new day of cleaning, prayer, and tending the poor of Metamor.

She always trusted Eli had a reason to keep her from sleeping on nights like this. She kept her prayer beads in one wing arm and counted her Hail Yanlins with expectancy, asking that most holy of women what it might be but she knew the answer would only come when it was ready.

After seven decades the answer arrived. There was a timorous knock on the convent door. Curious, the mallard waddled over and eased the door open. Standing before her in torn trousers and a grease stained linen shirt was an animal child. She did not recognize the species, but he had a long, thick tail jutting out behind him with a black tip, a flat head with large eyes, round ears, and black paws for hands. In fact, as she looked at him she wondered if perhaps he was more beast than child.

"What may I do for you, child?"

The creature ducked his head once as if gathering courage, and then looked at her bill. "Mother, I... I need your help. You're the only one I can think of who can help."

"What is it you need help with little one?"

His face twisted in a way that she had learned in her five months here at Metamor was an embarrassed grimace. "There's... um.... there's a bunch.... a bunch of orphans, Mother. A bunch of orphans." He nodded and slapped his tail against the wet stones. "A bunch of orphans who need help. We've been stealing food and other things to live. We need your help."

She blinked, trying to decide whether this fellow was a child or not. His size and something in his diffidence suggested a child, but not the way he spoke. "Are you an orphan too?"

"I..." he lowered his head and rubbed one foot over the other. "I am, Mother. But... not the same as the others. Please help me help the rest. They need mothers and fathers to care for them and teach them right."

Wilfrida bent down, pushing the door open all the way. "We will certainly help them. And you. Do you need a mother and father too?" She wasn't sure what she suspected, but she would find out.

A strange wistfulness came to his face and then he shook his head. "I just need to help them, Mother. And prayers.... I never much paid attention to that when I really was a child."

The nun extended a wing and waddled forward a step. "What is your name, little one?"

He looked up at her and sighed, a tear dripping down one cheek. "Kuna." He took a step back. "I have to go or they'll miss me. I'll be back soon. Thank you, Mother!"

She tried to stop him but the little fellow dropped to all fours and scampered down the road and out of sight. Wilfrida stood at the doorway for several seconds before she admitted that he wasn't coming back. She eased the door closed and counted off another few decades for all of the orphans of Metamor.

END OF DOMINION OF THE HYACITH

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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias

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