by Jeff Wheeler
EPILOGUE
BEYOND THE VEIL
It was a day that would be burned into Cettie’s mind forever, fastened there by the power of the Dryad’s kiss. The Aldermaston summoned her and Adam from the soft stuffed couched where they sat, side by side, wearing the same supplicant robes they’d donned as learners about to take the Maston Test. She remembered Adam being there that day.
They were not in the learning room, the place where they’d been instructed in the Mysteries of the abbey. This room was in the upper spire of the building. Two stained-glass windows, side by side, were mounted on the wall opposite the staircase. Three carved chairs sat beneath them. Cettie felt the Leerings hidden behind the glass panes. Though it was midmorning, they let in light that was as bright as a regular afternoon sun. The carpets had been painstakingly embroidered and designed. On opposite walls, two enormous gilt-framed mirrors were suspended, casting a mirrored image that made the room look as if it went on forever.
“Come forward,” the Aldermaston said. He stood before the trio of chairs. In the middle of the room was a plush pedestal with kneeling cushions on each side. Along the wall, by the mirrors, family and friends had gathered to witness the special occasion. The Fitzroys and the Hardings, Sera and Trevon, Mr. Durrant, and a few officials from the privy council. Anna’s smile was radiant and encouraging. There was no jealousy now—nothing but devoted affection. Adam, still holding her hand, squeezed it, as they both rose from their chairs.
Cettie felt anxious about being a spectacle, but her steps were sure. They reached the foot of the pedestal and remained standing along with the Aldermaston, who’d approached it from the other side. His robes were reminiscent of the ones he’d worn during the Test, and he had a slight limp, perhaps a remnant of the gunshot wound he’d sustained years before.
“My friends,” the Aldermaston said. “We are gathered here for a special occasion. We come not only to unite these two young people in holy matrimony, joined together by irrevocare sigil, but also to perform a ceremony of adoption. Before she becomes Mrs. Cettie Creigh, she must first become Miss Cettie Fitzroy.”
A tingling feeling went down Cettie’s spine. The music of the Medium was louder than she’d ever heard it, almost drowning out the Aldermaston’s words.
“Mr. Creigh, Mr. Harding—would you two stand at my side as witnesses of this solemn event?”
Adam gave her hand one final squeeze before releasing it, then joined the Aldermaston at the head of the pedestal. Cettie thought he looked particularly handsome that day. His eyes never left hers. She could almost drown in their color. He looked very pleased, but he was as dignified as ever. Oh, how she loved him.
“Lady Maren, if you would kneel at the pedestal. Lord Stephen, you may take the place of your father, Lord Brant Fitzroy.”
Upon hearing her father’s name, Cettie felt a strange shift in the magic’s music. There was a prickling awareness at the back of her neck, a small shudder passing through her. She felt a presence join them in the room.
“If you would,” the Aldermaston continued, “kneel before each other and take each other by the dextrarum coniunctio, the joining of the hands.”
Lady Maren and Stephen positioned themselves accordingly.
“Very well. Now, if the other members of the family will stand around you, you will clasp each other with the left hand on the left wrist, standing as a circle within a circle. This is the umbelica stella, a sign of the cosmos.”
Cettie felt the skin at her neck begin to quiver. Phinia and Anna had joined them, and the three of them stood next to one another at the base of the pedestal. She heard the Aldermaston’s words, but her attention was drawn to someone approaching them.
Unable to resist, Cettie risked a glance and saw, to her astonishment, Lord Fitzroy.
Father! she silently thought.
She could see him as if he lived in the flesh, although he had a radiance that was positively dazzling. He smiled at her, giving her a look of tenderness and love.
They cannot see me, he thought in reply. Only you can.
Cettie felt a thrill go through her. Her heart leaped with the joy of seeing his face. There were no more wrinkles, though his hair was white as snow.
Will we see each other again, Father?
He smiled at her question.
Of course we will. This second life is not the end. Only a bridge to a far better world. I was allowed to come here to witness this event.
Cettie bit her lips, hearing the Aldermaston speaking the words of the ceremony. But she wanted to speak with her father instead.
Thank you for sending Owen to save me, she thought with gratitude swelling inside.
You have always been precious to me, Cettie. Look at the change that has come to our family . . . because of you. You brought us together in ways Maren and I could not. Even Phinia has passed the Test now. Something I feared would never happen.
Cettie felt a jolt of love go through her. I miss you, Father. Can you see us always? Do you know what we’re feeling?
He shook his head slowly. You must understand, there is order in all things. I was granted a special dispensation to come here today, to be with you. Someday, we will be a family again, but in the meantime you must live your lives here.
I long for the day when we will all be together again, she thought, tears falling down her cheeks.
When the ceremonies are over, after I am gone, tell the others that you saw me. It is a special gift you have, Cettie. I understand that now. I felt it in you when we first met in the Fells. It enables you not only to see the malevolent spirits of the Unborn, but to see the rest of us as well. I love you all. Tell them, for me.
I promise, Cettie agreed.
“By the Medium’s will, make it thus so,” concluded the Aldermaston.
“Make it thus so,” murmured those assembled.
Her heart full to bursting, Cettie embraced her new family, holding each precious one as they clung to each other.
“I wish Father could have been here,” Anna whispered, sniffling.
Cettie gazed at his beaming smile. Her own throat was too thick to speak, to say what she knew. What she could see and they could not.
Sera spoke up, her voice bright and cheerful. “We also came to see a wedding, Aldermaston.” As she said it, she squeezed her husband’s hand. Both of them had a bright-eyed look of love. “I think that young man has been patient enough waiting for his bride,” Sera continued. “Please proceed.”
“As you command, Your Majesty,” the Aldermaston said, his eyes twinkling.
Cettie and Adam took up the position Stephen and Maren had vacated, standing across the pedestal from each other. Her knees sank into the plush cushions. They joined hands. She felt his strength, his firm grip. His eyes were narrowing, curious.
“Are you all right?” he whispered to her.
She wiped tears on the sleeve of her supplicant robe. “I am,” she breathed, feeling Father come closer. He put his hand on top of theirs, as if joining them himself.
The Aldermaston smiled at them. “It is time to begin.”
Cettie Fitzroy was a harbinger. The first in over a generation. She knew her life was far from over. Ereshkigal was free and would rally enemies to thwart them. She also knew that the Medium still had work for her to do. With Adam at her side, she could accomplish anything asked of her.
And they would start by ridding the world of a plague they at last understood.
I love you, Adam Creigh, Cettie thought to him.
Have you any doubts, my Cettie, of my love? She heard his thoughts as if they were whispers.
None at all, she thought in return, smiling.
And you never will.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Some fans have already figured out that several aspects of this series were inspired by a favorite Dickens novel, Bleak House. But it’s more than just a retelling of that story. It was also inspired by elements of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, and Can You Forgive
Her? by Anthony Trollope—the author, by the way, who was the inspiration for Aldermaston Thomas Abraham.
When I set out to write this story, I didn’t have the ending solid in my mind. Planning it in advance was difficult, knowing it would take five books to tell this particular tale. The closer I got to the end, the more nervous I was about how to tie the loose ends together and deliver a resolution that would be both satisfying and memorable. I also didn’t want the resolution of the major conflict to come from a fight scene as I’ve done in some of my other books.
Inspiration comes in different forms. The climax of the book, when Sera invokes the Medium to save Cruix Abbey and send it up to the stars, came during a concert I attended of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, which was performed (and sung) in a concert hall near where I live. This is the famous “Ode to Joy” symphony, probably his most famous one and composed while he was totally deaf. Although the lyrics are sung in German, they had an English translation up on the screen. The majestic music kept building, louder and louder, with a refrain that Beethoven could not hear with his ears but that was repeated over and over, as if the composer was trying to help us, the audience, hear the music only he could hear. The refrain at the end of the symphony goes like this:
Thus, brothers, you should run your race,
Like a hero going to victory!
You millions, I embrace you.
This kiss is for all the world!
Brothers, above the starry canopy
There must dwell a loving father.
Do you fall in worship, you millions?
World, do you know your creator?
Seek Him in the heavens;
Above the stars must he dwell.
Over and over it was repeated, the words showing up on the screen as the performers sang. It was like Beethoven was giving us a message he’d learned through the experience of his own suffering, his trial of deafness. And still, hundreds of years later, that symphony is performed around the world. It was a deeply emotional experience for me, and the idea came of Cettie, injured and hurting, hearing a song that Sera could not hear, knowing that help was coming but not being able to explain how. I loved writing that scene.
It’s true that I put my characters through many trials and miseries in my books. But isn’t life that way? I’ve experienced some dark events while writing this series, but I have hope that the experiences have taught me lessons on being a better person. I deliberately made Cettie and Sera flawed—each made serious mistakes, each struggled with doubt and regret. I wanted to give you, my readers, hope. That good can still come when tragedy strikes. That tears can be later remembered for the good they ultimately do.
So I leave you with a final quote, from my hero C.S. Lewis, who put it this way:
“That is what mortals misunderstand. They say of some temporal suffering, ‘No future bliss can make up for it,’ not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory. . . . The Blessed will say, ‘We have never lived anywhere except in Heaven.’”
Until we meet again in another world, another story.
—Jeff Wheeler, Imperial City, Beijing China
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This has been a rewarding and thrilling series to write. I love period dramas, and it was so enjoyable to write one but with all the excitement and intrigue you’ve come to expect from my books. I’ve been blessed with an amazing team, without which my books would have floundered long ago.
To Jason, for his astute feedback and endless championing for my career. His ideas help improve each story, and he has kept up with a truly dizzying pace to get this entire series to you in about, more or less, a year. That would be daunting for any editor, but Jason is a superstar.
To Angela, my brilliant developmental editor, who adds so much to the romance and tension, and can spot an inconsistency miles away. She earns her nickname “Eagle Eyes” with every book.
I’m also grateful to my other editors Wanda and Dan who have been with me for a while too. There are so many mistakes that happen in a manuscript. No book is totally flawless, but they sure make me look good by finding the majority of them!
And to my dedicated first readers who endure the torture of keeping quiet about my latest works: Emily, Shannon, Robin, Travis, Sunil, and Sandi. Thank you all!
My daughter Isabelle left on a mission for our church and won’t be able to read this final book until she gets home. Her influence and input on this entire series has been so helpful. I couldn’t be prouder of her.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2016 Mica Sloan
Jeff Wheeler is the Wall Street Journal bestselling author of the Harbinger and Kingfountain series, as well as the Muirwood and Mirrowen novels. He took an early retirement from his career at Intel in 2014 to write full time. He is a husband, father of five, and devout member of his church. He lives in the Rocky Mountains and is the founder of Deep Magic: The E-Zine of Clean Fantasy and Science Fiction. Find out more about Deep Magic at www.deepmagic.co, and visit Jeff’s many worlds at www.jeff-wheeler.com.
