Epilogue
Kuludresi 15
Dear Veran,
First and foremost, I’m writing to tell you that the palace received your gift the day before Iano’s coronation, and I’ll have you know it very nearly overshadowed the ceremony itself. A hundred strings of Silvern mirror and Lumeni mother-of-pearl! I doubt a gift this fine has been seen since the palace was built. You should see how they look hanging in the atriums—even under cloudy skies, they sway and flash, and at sunrise and sunset the reflections are nothing short of glorious. The court is absolutely preening under them—mirrored buttons and brooches have instantly become a trend. Kimela’s already written a song titled “Silver and Pearl,” and though her symbolism is rather ham-fisted, she’s captured the fervor of the palace to a T. I’ve included the lyrics for your amusement (take a look at my new title-font stamps, while you’re at it).
I’ve done what you requested with the shipment letter, working with the staff to track the number of dead birds they collect. And while we’ll have to wait for the spring migration to be completely sure, and summer to test the impact on mosquitoes, I think you’ll be thrilled to know that your gift is working. In the month before the mirrors arrived, the staff averaged a collection of two hundred and fifty birds a week. Since the mirrors have been installed, this month has shown a mere forty-five birds collected—for the whole month!—and these are mainly around the terraces where the mirrors aren’t hanging. Iano is putting the finishing touches on the new Committee of Natural Resources, which will discuss how to bring that number to zero. Their first report is included (look at the colored ink!). In short, Veran, you’ve very nearly done it. In a single stroke you’ve solved our bird mortality crisis, and won over the court. I believe we can expect far fewer obstacles during the Alcoran summit than we’ve previously had the pleasure of dealing with.
Finally, you’ll notice that I’ve included two additional documents. One is a citizen publication that has sprung up in the past few months—the public have been bringing their compositions to the print shops (we have five now, two in Tolukum and three in the crossroads towns) to be combined into pamphlets. Already it’s clear we’ll soon have to divide these into literary, news, and instructional publications, we have that many submissions. Make sure Lark sees the newest serial installment of the wildly popular—and suspiciously named—“Adventures of the Sunlight Bandit.”
The last is my own composition, a book of poetry and two political essays. Soe is standing over my shoulder and thus insisting I tell you that it has sold twelve dozen copies so far, and the printers are rushing to fill continuing demand. I admit, I am pleased to see my work still resonating with people—now throughout the country, rather than just within Tolukum Palace—but I’m even more pleased to be in such printed company, alongside other writers who now have the opportunity to agree or disagree or simply expound on something else.
I am so, so glad to hear about your new Winderan puppy, and I adore her name. I can’t wait to meet her. Soe and Iano both send their regards. We look forward to seeing you again at the end of Akasansi.
Hoping you, and all our friends, are well—
Sincerely,
Tamsin Moropai
February 10
Hail to Mighty Lark of the Sands and Waters, Wielder of Righteous Flame,
I hope that salutation was more to your liking than the last one—you know “greetings to . . .” is just how people begin letters, right?
I wanted to pass along this letter from Tamsin. Look at the printing in her book! Look at the public pamphlet! Look at what she says about the mirrors! Lark!!!!!!!!!!! I yelled so loud Mouse tried to climb on top of me to hold me still. I can’t think of anything I’ve done that I’m more proud of.
Another thing happened that I thought you might like to know—two days ago I was out on the ridge, resupplying one of the caches, when Mouse started barking at me. You know how she is—she doesn’t bark much unless we’re training her. Even though she hadn’t warned me of a seizure yet, I figured it was a good idea to keep to her training and sit down. And Lark—I seized. I did. She felt it coming, just like Rat did. When I came around, she was lying against me, and a woodcutter was there—he’d heard her barking and come to investigate. He read the instructions stamped on my leather cuff and helped me get back to the palace.
You can imagine the reactions from my family—Papa paid the woodcutter his weight in keys, and Viyamae actually cried. I think Vynce did, too, though he pretended he wasn’t. Idamae brushed Mouse from head to tail, and dramatic Susimae ordered a feast in Mouse’s honor and spent the rest of the afternoon tying laurel garlands to hang around her neck—she ended up looking like a big shaggy bear that got stuck in a brushpile. And Mama disappeared for a while and came back with a silver badge that she pinned to Mouse’s collar. So we’re official now—Quartermaster Veran Greenbrier and Mouse, Wood Guard.
As for me, I’m feeling better, and I don’t mean just physically. It’s weird. I don’t know how to explain it, but while I was lying in bed yesterday—I couldn’t get up, Mouse was on my legs and she has to be close to a hundred pounds now, I swear—I realized I tend to think of my life in segments, like chapters in between seizures. And it’s always been hard to think too far into the future, because I know there’s another one coming at some point. (Maybe that’s the problem with the forethought you like to boss me about.) But after yesterday . . . I didn’t feel that way. I found myself thinking about my supply schedule, and which caches I need to get to next and which ones I’ll get to next month, and what I’ll need to wrap up before we leave for Callais after that. I know my body hasn’t changed, but it feels like . . . my grip on it has. With Mouse, I don’t have to choose between being all alone, and being someone’s responsibility. I don’t have to rush through each day, trying to wring out everything I can—I can sit back and take my time, because I can trust that I have that time. She can give me some of that time.
Anyway, I thought you’d appreciate that. You’re coming up at the end of the month, right? I want to show you the chestnut groves we didn’t get to last time. And, I miss you. Don’t look at me like that. I know it’s only been ten days since I visited the lake, but I do. I think about you every day, every hour. There are so many things I want to share with you, or hear what you think. I want to know what you’ve been up to today, what made you smile or frown. It’s been good being back home, but I’m looking forward to our summer in Alcoro, because we’ll be together again, just like old times. No, not like old times, because now I’ve got a dog and you’ve got . . . a country, I guess. Two countries. And a last name, and killer new earrings.
New times. Just like new times.
Give Rat a scratch for me, and say hi to Eloise.
Sincerely,
Veran
March 24
Dear Rose,
Thanks for the letters from Lila, and Irena. I’m glad everyone is doing well, and that your new leg doesn’t hurt like the old one. Eloise is good and says Thank You for asking, and she wants to know if you have thought any more about coming back with us to spend the autum here. I know you are working on the road with the surveyers but please think about it—I have three rooms here and you can have one for as long as you want, I even have a Bath tub.
We leave in one week for Cyprien, where we’ll stay for a few weeks (Pa wants to show me Lilou and the other Provinces). And then we’ll travel over the Stelera Stellerrange Stellarange mountains (I still can not spell worth a dam). So we will be in Alcoro probably at the end of May. Both Mother and Papa are coming. Eloise is staying behind to act as Regent with Uncle Arlen helping her—that’s why she hopes you will come visit. No preshure but do not break her heart or I will have to go to War against Alcoro, I think that’s how I am to settle argumments now. No I am joking but we do want you to come visit, you have to see my Bath tub. Oh! And my boat. Did I tell you I have a boat now? It’s a small one, and I am learning to sail it. I got to name it, so I named it the Litt
le Whit. If you come to the lake I will give you a ride and hopefuly we will not drown, that would be annoying.
To answer your questions from your last letter, yes, actualy, I am enjoying being in the council room. I did not think I would, but I have made some things happen here in Lumen Lake that I think are good. There are so many things you would see right away, Rose, that sometimes the people in the palace don’t see. So many problems where they are not looking at what’s causing the problems. They’ll put people in jail for poaching pearl beds but don’t think to wonder why people are poaching them. I have been sailing my boat to some of the outer islands, which are not as rich as the ones close to the palace, and talking to familys. At first I think some of them were afraid of me but then I shouted at a governor at midwinter, I didn’t mean to but she was being stupid, saying stuff about poor Islanders being criminals, and I kind of shouted a lot. It was at a big party, too, with those little foods that are extra-tiny to be fancy, and I just got mad. I thought Mother might get upset that I made a scene, or that Eloise would be embarased, but they both came and stood with me, and Papa, too, and Uncle Arlen and his family, and I felt kind of bad but I think the governor felt worse. Anyway she’s still the governor but now the Islanders talk to me and Mother is having the counsil completely revise their Inter-island trade plans to strengthen the local economys there.
Veran’s good. The Winderan retriever pup they got—well, she’s not a pup anymore, she’s huge—actualy warned him of a seizure last month, and another a few weeks ago. I told you he named her Mouse, right? After the first dog who looked after him. I won’t lie, I got a little choked up when he told me but tried to pretend I was only coughing, I still hate crying.
Veran will be here tomorrow with his ma to get ready to travel to Alcoro. I’m glad because I am really terrible at writing letters (as you can tell) and just miss being with him. I miss being with you, too, and can not wait to see you and everyone else. I am starting to love the lake—there is so much sky and so much water, and the waterfalls! But I do need a breath of the Ferinno. I need some time under the sun—I think it must be a different sun out in the desert than here at the lake, under the mists and clouds. That would have seemed crazy to me a year ago, but what can I say. If water is in my blood I think sun must be in my bones, and my heart, and my head. I feel strong in those ways, in those places, like I can finally take what I think and what I feel and actualy do something with them. I feel full, and free.
Anyway, I will see you soon.
All my Love,
Lark Alastaire
Acknowledgments
I’m so grateful to my agent, Valerie Noble, for her never-failing enthusiasm for this series, and to my editor, David Pomerico, for his expert revision and appreciation for the emotional heart of this story. A huge thank you also goes to my publicist, Holly Rice, and to Mireya Chiriboga, Imani Gary, Paula Szafranski, Victoria Mathews, and the entire team at Harper Voyager—you make so much magic happen. Thanks, too, to Chelsea Stephens, Lauren Ezzo, and Matthew Frow, for voicing Lark, Tamsin, and Veran with such life in the audiobooks.
I had a slew of help with details in this book. I’m immensely grateful to Sarah Watkins, who helped develop Tamsin’s learning of sign language, and once again to my agent, Valerie, for her guidance on writing Veran’s epilepsy. Thanks, also, to Sarah Remy, who gave me feedback about some horse questions I had, and Serra Swift, who helped me brainstorm appropriate poisons for Veran to panic over.
A big acknowledgment goes to my high school chemistry teacher, Mrs. Nancy LeMaster, who I’m sure many millennial grads of D. W. Daniel can hear singing, “Always start with what you’re given!” This became the baseline for Veran’s mantra, ghosted to him by his mother—start with what you have. While balancing chemical equations still gives me anxiety, there are few other bits of advice from high school that have stuck with me so firmly or imparted such wisdom.
Thank you to my parents for their constant support, and to all my family for their enthusiasm. Thank you to Caitlin for being my sister and confidante and partner-in-crime.
And, of course, thank you to my husband, Will. What a journey we’ve been on. To my girls, Lucy and Amelia—thank you for your inspiration, your energy, your creativity, your resiliency, and your curiosity. I love you.
And finally, thanks, also, to you—the readers and the writers, the artists and the cosplayers, the storytellers and the adventurers. You are the heartbeat of the world of books.
About the Author
An avid hiker and explorer, EMILY B. MARTIN is a park ranger during the summer and an author/ illustrator the rest of the year. Her experiences as a ranger have helped inform the characters and worlds of the Outlaw Road duology and the Creatures of Light trilogy. When not patrolling national parks such as Yellowstone and the Great Smoky Mountains, or the Boy Scouts’ Philmont Scout Ranch, she lives in South Carolina with her husband, Will, and two daughters, Lucy and Amelia.
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Praise for Sunshield
“Clever, thrilling, and full of heart, this is epic fantasy done right.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Filled with unforgettable characters that you’ll truly care about, Sunshield is fantastic! Emily B. Martin expertly weaves together multiple narratives with precision, passion, and excellence to create a riveting tale that will stick with you long after you finish reading. I loved it!”
—Sarah Beth Durst, award-winning author of Race the Sands
“An exciting take on the fantasy genre with its mix of Wild West and a tempered glass court. The three main characters seamlessly weave together a diverse tale of deceit, highway robbery, and political machinations. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.”
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Also by Emily B. Martin
Outlaw Road duology
Sunshield
Creatures of Light trilogy
Creatures of Light
Ashes to Fire
Woodwalker
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
floodpath. Copyright © 2021 by Emily B. Martin. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text ma
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first edition
Maps by Emily B. Martin
Cover design by Elsie Lyons
Cover illustration by Larry Rostant
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.
Digital Edition MARCH 2021 ISBN: 978-0-06-288860-0
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-288859-4
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