“I’ve heard some stories, too,” Borenson said. “My steward claims to have dreams, sendings from the netherworld. He does not say much about them, but I can tell that they frighten him. He spends too much time sharpening his sword.”
“There’s nothing to fear,” Averan said. “The world is changing, and will continue to change.”
“It’s all your doing, then?” Gaborn asked Averan.
“The world is changing,” Averan said, “taking on some of the shape of the One True World. There is nothing to fear in this.”
So they stayed up late talking, and Borenson reveled in the company of his old master, until they heard a thump at the door late in the night, and Borenson opened the door to find the Wizard Binnesman there.
Borenson grunted in surprise, looked at the old gray wizard, and at Gaborn, and asked at last, “What’s going on?”
“We came to say good-bye,” Gaborn said. “To you, and to Averan. We four shall not meet again. I will not live out the winter, and when I pass, I will leave the world in your hands. And so I must ask a favor of you.”
“Name it,” Borenson said, and he saw that Averan and Binnesman were leaning near them, intent on Gaborn’s every word.
“Protect my wife and my sons.”
“What won’t she be safe from?” Borenson asked. “Are the reavers returning?”
But Gaborn only shrugged. “I am not told, I only feel.”
“Not the reavers,” Averan said. “They will never bother us again, I think.”
“There are darker things than reavers,” Gaborn said with a shiver. “I have searched the world for them far and wide, but many yet remain hidden from me.”
That morning at dawn, Averan, Gaborn, and Binnesman mounted up for one last ride. They told Myrrima that they would be back in three days, and they took force horses to the Courts of Tide.
There, Iome gave Averan a gift, and told her, “Let this be a light for you in dark places,” Iome said. “You may only be a wizard, but you shall look the part of the queen of the Underworld.” Iome gave Averan her crown of blazing opals.
Averan tucked it into her pack, hugged Iome, and said her good-byes.
A night later the three of them rode fast horses to the Mouth of the World. Averan bowed her head as they passed Keep Haberd, and would not look at the massive stones all thrown down, now covered with wild peas that had their blossoms open to the night.
It was a fine night, surprisingly mild. Starlight and a rising moon dressed the hills in silver. To Averan’s senses, everything was a wonder. It was well past the first of the month of Leaves, and the trees had all begun to turn to their autumn colors. To the north, the hills rolled away, each hump riding the back of the last, until the fair fields of Mystarria glistened in the distance. Off to the east, the Alcair Mountains rose up as sharp as blades, with snow glistening at their peaks. Everywhere, crickets sang among the fields, and Averan peered up at the stars, which seemed to loom just out of reach up in the heavens. None of them were falling.
Averan felt as if a huge burden had lifted from her chest. She sat astride a gray mare, holding her black staff.
“Tell all the people,” Averan said, “that the reavers will trouble them no more. The hosts of the Underworld shall never come against them again.”
“Are you sure that you want to go back?” Borenson asked. “There will always be a place for you at the manor, if you wish.”
Averan shook her head. “Don’t worry for me. You’re going to your home. I’m going to mine. There is much work to be done still, and I must remain vigilant.”
Borenson nodded, unable to even guess what burdens the child would have to endure. The reavers needed an Earth Warden to protect them. Even he had to know what that meant. Dark times lay ahead.
“Still,” Borenson said, “if ever you find yourself yearning for sunlight on your face, or a fair bed, or another person to talk to...”
“I’ll know where to find you,” Averan finished for him.
Averan climbed down from her horse, and gave Borenson a hug. He squeezed her tightly, and wished never to let her go. Averan still felt small in his embrace.
Averan hugged him close one last time, and Borenson saw tears glisten in the young woman’s eyes.
At least there is still a small part of her that is human, Borenson thought, and he rejoiced in that.
Averan said good-bye to Gaborn and Binnesman, and of that tearful meeting, little can be said. She had found in Binnesman a father that she had never known, and now she would lose him again.
Then Averan stood in the mouth of the cave for a moment, just breathing the fresh air. A small breeze suddenly stirred the trees, and went hissing through the grasses, and Averan looked as if she took that as a sign to depart. Placing Iome’s old crown upon her brow to light the way, she turned and strode back into the Underworld.