IT took two days and several more healings for Tris to awaken. He found himself stretched out on a bed, Carina asleep in a chair beside him.
"Welcome back," Gabriel said, moving from the shadows near the wall. "We weren't sure you'd be joining us."
Tris managed a weak smile. Carina awoke and moved to bring him water. "I wasn't too sure myself," he managed. "Thank you."
Carina shook her head. "Someday, you'll have to explain what happened," she said, taking his hand. "But right now, I'm glad to have you back."
"Kiara—and Jonmarc?" Tris asked, closing his eyes.
Gabriel chuckled. "Neither one would let anyone touch them until they knew whether you would live. Ban's battle healers took care of them. Kiara is exhausted, but unhurt. Jonmarc is going to take a little longer—I fear you'll have a house guest for the rest of the summer. It will be a while before he can think of using a sword, longer until he can ride."
Tris smiled. "Tell him he can stay as long as he wants."
"Soterius and Mikhail are out rounding up Jared's troops and freeing the prisoners in the dungeons. They've had the help of the palace ghosts. Seems that when your power was out of control, you managed to summon every spirit within a league of the palace—not few of whom were Jared's victims. Between the victim's relatives and the angry ghosts, Jared's soldiers are turning up dead faster than Soterius can hunt them down." Tris looked at Gabriel. "Will the truce hold?" "Between my people and yours?" Gabriel asked. "It should. Nothing will be won by breaking the peace, now that those who hunted us have been punished."
Carina cleared her throat. "There's someone waiting to see you." She stepped aside, revealing Kiara in the doorway.
Gabriel made a courteous bow. "Until later," he said, addressing both Tris and Kiara. Gabriel and Carina left the room.
Kiara took a step toward where Tris lay. "Good to see you awake," she said, with a tired smile. Tris held out his hand to her, and she moved closer to sit on the edge of his bed. "You gave us a real scare. Carina and I took shifts. We didn't want to leave you alone."
Although his memory of the battle was blurred by the wormroot, the image of destroying the Obsidian King in Kiara's body was searingly clear.
Tris wondered whether the battle had changed things between them.
"I was afraid you might not forgive me, for what happened," Tris said quietly.
The pain of those memories flickered in Kiara's eyes. "When the Obsidian King pushed his way through my shielding, I wanted to die. I was afraid that you wouldn't—wouldn't be able to stop him, or wouldn't free me. I didn't want to exist like that." She paused. "Thank you."
Tris thought of Lemuel, and of his grandmother's story. "I knew I was dying," Tris said. "If the separation spell and the elixir didn't work, I knew we would be together in the arms of the Lady. But I couldn't let the Obsidian King take you."
Kiara blinked back tears. "I'm just so glad to see you—we were afraid we'd lost you. You took an awful chance."
"Lemuel saved me," Tris murmured, closing his eyes. "Grandmother was right."
Kiara brushed the hair back from his face and leaned down to kiss him. "Hush now. You can tell me all about it later. But Carina will chase me out of here with a broom if she needs to heal you again because of me."
Tris opened his eyes and met her gaze. "Don't go far—promise?"
"Promise." She kissed his hand and released it. "Now get some rest. As soon as you can walk, Ban and Mikhail want to get you crowned and make everything official."
Tris watched her leave the room. He shut his eyes and sank back against the pillow, grateful and amazed to be alive. Everything was going to change; all the duties of kingship that he'd never coveted would be his. His wedding would be a bright spot on a very dark horizon. While Carroway and others could see to some of the essentials, like restaffing the palace, there were many things that Tris knew only he could do as King and Summoner. Trials and tribunals to preside over, as the generals and lords loyal to Jared were captured and brought for sentencing. Working with Soterius to rebuild an army and bring order and safety to the land. Mediating for the scirranish, who would require his help to make peace with the ghosts of their murdered loved ones.
Tris could feel the energy of angry spirits bound by the pain they suffered at the hands of Jared and Arontala. He doubted Shekerishet would be livable until he exorcised those troubled souls. He would need to appoint an exchequer to find out how badly Jared had looted the treasury. Equally important, he would need to stave off riots and unrest as winter came; ruined fields meant hungry people. Now comes the hard part, he thought. Cleaning up the mess that Jared made.
Two days later, over Carina's protests, Tris insisted on getting up. When he managed to make it through a hot bath and a shave without collapsing, the healer gave up her arguments. A fresh outfit replaced his blood-soaked clothing, which Carina sent to be burned.
Kiara was waiting for him in the parlor outside his rooms.
"Keeping a vigil?" he asked as she started. Kiara rose to greet him, then remembered herself and dropped to a curtsey.
Tris took her hand with a pained expression. "Please no," he said as he raised her to stand. "Not between us, Kiara. I don't want your fealty. I want your love."
"Always," she said, reaching out to touch his cheek. He pulled her close to him and kissed her. She rested her head against his shoulder.
"Now that you're up," Kiara said, "Ban will want to get you crowned until there can be a real coronation. Technically, you haven't taken the throne."
"There's something I need to do first," Tris said. "Something I have to settle. Will you come with me?"
Kiara smiled. "Anywhere," she murmured. "To the gates of the Lady herself."
Tris made his way to the family's chambers in the palace and opened the door to Kait's room. The sky beyond the window was beginning to lighten, softening the shadows of his torch, only bright enough to cast a dim light over the room. Tris placed the torch in a wall sconce and walked into the silent room.
He closed his eyes against the tears, held back these many months. He found that he could finally weep for Kait and Serae, the first of the innocents who had blocked Jared's path to power. Bricen was a man of war, accepting the dangers of the throne. But Tris's mother and Kait were inconvenient pawns in Jared's desperate bid. It was for them that Tris had returned, far more than the abstract need for justice in Margolan. In the half-light of the early-morning he let his grief find voice, allowing the loss and pain to wash over him and through him, permitting the tears to come until his throat was raw and he could weep no more.
Now, Tris thought, perhaps he could do his mother and Kait one final service.
"I've come for you," he said to the empty air. "I've come to set you free." Tris closed his eyes, stretching out along the spectral plains where the restless spirits walked. He felt the touch of a familiar soul, and then another. He opened his eyes to find Serae and Kait standing in front of him. Weakened as they had become within the orb, they had not been destroyed. Tris tried to retain the presence of mind to work the magic he must do. He used his power to make the ghosts visible to Kiara.
"You've won!" Kait said, beaming with pride. "I knew you could. Look at you, king now and a mage!"
Tris had to swallow again before he found his voice. "You know I wish it had never been necessary. I miss you terribly."
"The Lady chooses our paths," Serae's spirit said, her voice as calm in death as it had been in life. "You serve her well."
"I can let you rest," Tris said brokenly. "If you wish." His own heartfelt desire to keep them close to him went unspoken; it was an imposition he dared not make. "But there's someone I want you to meet. This is Kiara of Isencroft, daughter of King Donelan. My betrothed."
Kait grinned and clapped. Serae extended her hands in welcome to Kiara, stepping forward to give a ghostly kiss on each cheek. Serae reached out and laid her hand on Tris's arm.
"With the crown and a bride, you have all that you require to rule Margolan, my son. You don't require my blessing, but I'll give it to you anyway." The ghost smiled at both Tris and Kiara. Kait threw her arms around Tris. Insubstantial though she was Tris welcomed the contact, glad for the chance to sense his sister's spirit at peace.
"When you were born," Serae said, "Mother told me that it would be you who would wear the crown. I never told anyone, not even your father. I never wanted that burden for you. But she was right. You're her heir as much as Bricen's and my own. You've done well."
Tris sensed the presence of two more spirits, revenants strong enough to make their appearance plain to Kiara. Bava K'aa and Lemuel stood beside Serae, and Bava K'aa embraced her daughter. Serae looked from her mother to Lemuel.
"I heard what you told Tris about the Obsidian King," Serae said. "And while I loved Grayson dearly as my father, I can sense in my spirit that what you said is true."
Bava K'aa nodded. Her eyes held the memory of remembered pain. "I'm sorry for the deception, my dear. It was necessary to save your life—and perhaps mine, as well. And to spare Grayson from humiliation that he did not deserve. Now all is known."
"Will you also go to the Lady?" Tris asked his grandmother and Lemuel.
Bava K'aa nodded once more. "I chose to stay on after my death to protect you, and in the hopes that one day I might be able to free Lemuel. You no longer need my protection, and Lemuel is free.
We're ready to go to our rest. We would be honored if you would make the passing over."
Tris looked down, unable to speak. He willed himself to raise his head and meet his mother's eyes. "Then let's begin," he said in a voice like gravel, squaring his shoulders. He closed his eyes once more, stretching out along the currents of magic, feeling the power rise to his command. He felt the shift in his soul that signaled his presence in the spirit world as well as the world of light. For a few precious moments he gathered his family around him, warm and real to the touch. Then he spoke the words of power that freed them, sending their spirits to rest with the Lady.
"Never doubt that you are the Chosen of the Lady," his mother's voice sounded from afar. "She does not choose her champions in vain."
"Goodbye," Tris whispered. When he opened his eyes again, they were gone. He bowed his head, and Kiara wrapped her arms around him. She waited as he swallowed back the last of the tears. Then she took his hand, and they stepped into the corridor together.
Carroway was waiting patiently for them, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, grinning widely.
"You don't waste time," the bard jibed good-naturedly. "A throne and a queen. Now if you'll just appoint me Master Minstrel..."
Tris slipped his arm around Kiara's waist, wincing as his newly healed ribs protested. "Be careful what you wish for," Tris teased. "You're already in charge of planning both a coronation and a wedding."
Carroway grinned wider. "Suits me fine. I'll help the steward plan the food, and I'll arrange the best entertainment and decorations in the Winter Kingdoms. That's how reputations are made, after all," he said with an exaggerated courtly bow.
"Let's wait until tomorrow to start planning the menu, if it's all the same to you," Tris asked tiredly.
"It's been tomorrow for a while now," Carroway replied. "Carina is with Jonmarc. He won't be going anywhere for a long time. I promised to send orders to the kitchen—if the servants ever return— to have their meals sent up to Jonmarc's room." Carroway grinned conspiratorially. "Maybe there'll be a double wedding, before all is said and done. Ban left orders that you're not to be disturbed until noon, but a line of petitioners is already forming and one or two of your father's old retainers have come out of hiding.
"That makes it possible, and probably wise, to convey the crown later this morning." Carroway held up a hand to forestall any protest. "Mikhail pointed out that kingdoms can be lost on technicalities. You've won the crown, but you haven't actually been proclaimed king. He tells me there is protocol for a field coronation—King Hotten was crowned that way, so there is precedent—and we can worry about all the pomp and circumstance later."
Carroway shook his head. "We've got a mess to clean up just restaffing the castle," he went on. "And we have to convince the servants that the vayash moru will keep the truce, or they won't step foot back in the kitchen. We'll be eating cheese and salt beef for the rest of our lives."
"I don't know," Tris teased, "all that time on the road kind of gave me a taste for salt beef."
"Trail rations never hurt anyone," Kiara joined in. "Builds character."
Carroway rolled his eyes. "I've had my character built enough for ten lifetimes. Now I just want one of those comfortable court positions where I can write songs immortalizing the king and his lady and become one of the most honored bards of the kingdoms."
"Let me know if you don't have enough material for good stories," Tris said. "I can send you back out for a while with Ban. Or maybe Gabriel would take you in."
Carroway gave him a sidelong glance. "No thanks. I think I've got enough to work on."
Kiara laughed. "You two have got business to take care of. I'll go see how Carina and Jonmarc are doing. Don't worry—I'll be with you shortly."
Tris kissed her and let her go, watching as she headed down the corridor.
Carroway looked at Tris, dressed in a borrowed tunic and trews, and shook his head. "I can see that the first order of business is to get you outfitted like a king and not like a tent rigger. Come with me, and let's see what we can find."