Dead Stars - Part Two (The Emaneska Series) (69 page)

Nuka clapped his hands. ‘In the meantime, dinner is served. After you, Arkmage,’ he said, gesturing to Durnus. But he held up a pale hand and shook his head.

‘Farden and I will follow in a moment.’

‘We will?’ Farden asked. Durnus nodded in a way that made him not want to argue, even though his stomach rumbled chronically at the mention of dinner. Durnus waited for the others to file below before he turned to the mage, sightless eyes roving over his face. ‘I could say a hundred words to you, Farden. I could say a thousand…’ Farden wondered if this was a good moment to tell him how hungry he was, but he refrained. ‘But all I need to say is how proud I am. You have really proven yourself. Not just with this,’ he smacked him lightly on the shoulder, making his glistening armour clank, ‘but for what you did for Modren and Elessi, even to the words you spoke a moment ago about Scalussen, and the way you spoke them. I think it is time.’

‘For what?’

‘To pass on my legacy, like Korrin did to you,’ Durnus smiled. He gestured towards dinner. ‘After you,
Arkmage
.’

Farden nearly fell overboard. ‘You’re joking, right?’

‘Why ever would I? I am too old for this game, Farden.’

‘What do you mean, too old? Aren’t you immortal?’

‘Aren’t you? And still younger than I?’

‘A fair point.’

‘Well then, I rest my case. Of course, I will humbly accept the old position of advisor, or mentor, if it is still available. But otherwise, I am done. I pass the title to you, Farden. My decision is final. The Arka need a strong Arkmage now, more than ever. Even if it is to be an Arkmage-in-exile.’

Farden exhaled slowly while he shook his head, watching his hot breath escape as steam. There was a chill in the air. Clouds were gathering. ‘What about Modren?’ he asked.

‘He has asked to be your Undermage.’

Farden exhaled a little more. ‘Okay,’ he said, after a moment of dizzying consideration. ‘I accept.’

Durnus put his hand on his shoulder. ‘I knew you would,’ he whispered, ‘I knew you would.’ Farden might have been wrong, but it looked as though a huge weight had been lifted from his old friend’s shoulders. He smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. ‘After you, Arkmage. Dinner awaits.’

‘You are very persuasive, you know,’ Farden muttered as they went below.

As they reached the door of the captain’s cabin, Farden paused. ‘I will be a moment,’ he said, leaving Durnus’ hand on the doorhandle. He turned the corner and found his cabin. He went in and locked the door, and then tugged something very thick and heavy from his haversack.

The Grimsayer landed on the bed with a grumbling thud, making the bed itself creak. A certain black rat looked up from its little hollow in the pillow, squeaked, and promptly went back to sleep.

Farden knelt down in front of the Grimsayer and gently lifted its pages. ‘Tyrfing,’ he said to it, and watched the lights go to work. It took them but a moment to draw him. Farden smiled at his uncle, kneeling there in the pebbles by a rushing river, smiling to the last.

Farden nodded, closed the book and went to the door. Just before he left, a flash of white caught his eye, in the little porthole next to the door. Farden pressed his face to the uneven glass, and smirked to himself. He had been right after all. It was snowing outside.

The End

It’s done. I couldn’t be happier.

Emaneska has been a long and exciting road. Though rough and potholed in places, it has led me here, to the finale, to the culmination. Four years and four books later, I can’t help but be proud.

And do you know what has helped me along this road? You. I’d like to acknowledge every single person thumbing this page or screen right this very minute. Give yourselves a hearty clap on the back. I want to thank you for enjoying the Emaneska Series. For picking it up and parting with your hard-earned cash. For sharing and retweeting. For the emails. For the stars and comments. For even just mentioning it in passing. You crazy lot keep me writing.

I’d like to thank and also apologise profusely to those incredible people that I have the pleasure of calling my friends and family. I thank you for putting up with my wild and excited rambling about Emaneska, about Dead Stars, and what fictional pools I’ll be dipping my toes into next. And I apologise, mainly to your ears, for talking them to a raw pulp. I promise I’ll stop. One day. Maybe.

I also owe my gratitude to those authors and other self-publishing indies out there that have inspired and educated me over the past four years. This industry is ever-changing, and indies are ever-working, and damn hard too. The alliances I have made and the communities I’ve been part of have helped me make some good decisions and helped me keep up the work I’ve been doing in the background behind the writing. Gods know there is a lot of it.

I won’t be stopping writing any time soon. Not a chance. This may be the end of Emaneska, but it’s only the start for this young author. Even now, as I sit poring over my laptop, congratulatory whisky in hand, the clock-face showing something ungodly, I’m itching to get working on the next book. It will be strange not writing about Emaneska, not manhandling our favourite mage through trial and tribulation, but it will also be good to try something new and different.

Who knows. Maybe I’ll return to Emaneska another day, once I’ve got some of the other ideas out of my system. Maybe I’ll write another series. Maybe I’ll call it the Scalussen Chronicles. But who knows…

Thank you. To all.

Ben

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