He turned toward Genara.
“Madam, I wish you a long, happy life. May you sleep soundly each night knowing the good you have done will allow countless others to live in peace and safety. And know that in the eyes of the divine, you are a hero. Farewell, Desmeres. Farewell, Genara… Until we meet again.”
And then he was gone. There was no flash, no wisp of smoke. He was simply present, and then he was not. The only evidence that he’d ever been present was what lay in Desmeres’s hand.
He uncurled his fingers. Resting in his palm was a single coin. Flawless and gleaming, bright red copper that had yet to take on a hint of patina. The edges still had a sharpness and the face—a rendering of Queen Caya—had a level of detail that suggested it had fallen straight from the press to his hand.
“He gave you a copper? A single copper for all you’ve done?” Genara said.
“No…” Desmeres said quietly.
He slid the coin to his fingers and flipped it over. On the tail side, the side that had been resting upon his bare palm, was the Mark of the Chosen.
“It didn’t burn you…” she said.
“Don’t squander it…” he murmured.
He sat up stiffly, finally waking Dowser, who scampered to his face to eagerly say a long overdue hello.
“Lay back. Who knows how badly you were hurt? At least wait until you can see Myranda. Maybe she can help you with your hand,” Genara said.
“I need the books. I need my weapons. I need to get back to the task.”
“Why?” Genara said. “You and I have our place in history now, even if no one knows it but us. Your soul is wiped clean. You’ve done what you need to do!”
“No. I’ve done what he needed me to do. I’ve done what the world needed me to do. What I need to do still remains.”
Genara shoved him to his back, and again Dowser crawled to his face.
“It can wait. You recover first.” She shook her head. “We aren’t going anywhere until my name is wiped clean and we’re certain you are out of danger.”
“Oh? And where are ‘we’ going after that?”
“To fetch your things, I suppose. Do you think I’m going to let you do that alone, now that you are literally single-handed? I am honestly uncertain how you stayed alive this long without someone to keep an eye on you.”
“And you’ve volunteered for that unenviable task?”
“For now,” she said, tugging Dowser aside and patting the dog. “But don’t get used to it. You are far more trouble than you’re worth.”
He grinned. “So you’ve said. But I’m not through making trouble.”
From The Author
Thank you for reading! If you liked this story, or perhaps if you found it lacking, I’d love to hear from you. Below are links to some of the places you can find me online, and if you’d like to be kept in the loop with important new developments and releases, consider joining my newsletter.
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Discover other titles by Joseph R. Lallo:
The Book of Deacon Series:
Book 1: The Book of Deacon
Book 2: The Great Convergence
Book 3: The Battle of Verril
Book 4: The D’Karon Apprentice
Other stories in the same setting:
Jade
The Rise of the Red Shadow
The Big Sigma Series:
Book 1: Bypass Gemini
Book 2: Unstable Prototypes
Book 3: Artificial Evolution
Book 4: Temporal Contingency
The Free-Wrench Series:
Book 1: Free-Wrench
Book 2: Skykeep
Book 3: Ichor Well (Coming July 14th 2016)
Collections:
The Book of Deacon Anthology
NaNoWriMo Projects:
The Other Eight
The Redemption of Desmeres Page 39
