The charm woman and a handful of other adepts had joined them on the island jointly guarded by seedfolk, drinlings, and soldiers from Trensicourt. Rachel’s extended periods of study had scarcely provided time to scratch the surface of the knowledge stockpiled there.
When it came to Edomic, none of the others could begin to compete with Rachel. Elaine could help tutor her regarding charms, but most of the rest Rachel had learned through reading and experimentation. Her abilities had grown exponentially.
But would she need to verbally summon fire in a world where the twist of a knob would heat a stovetop? Would she require telepathic communication when she could dial up a friend on a cell phone? For personal defense she could always carry pepper spray. She would probably not need it in the pleasant community where her parents lived.
Jason stepped into the tent, dressed like a prince on an adventure. “You look very generic.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Mind if I come in?”
“Of course not.”
“Aram just arrived. He brought his wife.”
“I haven’t seen her since the wedding!” Rachel said.
“We’ve missed you at Trensicourt.”
“I was there most of the time,” Rachel said. “It’s only been a few months. I couldn’t totally neglect the library. Farfalee would never have forgiven me. Besides, with my departure approaching, I wanted to make sure I learned all there was to know about getting in and out of Lyrian.”
“Aram is the last,” Jason said. “We’re all here.”
She nodded, setting down the mirror.
He was wrong. They were not all here. That was one of the big problems with Lyrian. It was full of ghosts. They had won the war, but at what cost? Chandra, Dorsio, Nia, Io, Nedwin. Tark. Drake. Ferrin. What good was saving the world if it meant losing your closest friends?
Rachel was grateful they had won. She was grateful for those who had survived. Nobody close to her had died since the day Felrook had been blasted into the stratosphere. Lyrian was free. Galloran had declined offers to become emperor, settling for restoring Trensicourt instead. But he could not prevent his legend from growing. Many kingdoms were rebuilding, and they all looked to him for advice and guidance.
The atmosphere in Lyrian had changed. For the first time in decades the future held real promise. The wizardborn were interacting with humans as never before. But Rachel suspected that for her, Lyrian would always feel haunted.
“You’re still okay with going?” Jason checked.
Rachel tried to smile. “What other choice is there? One of us has to stay; one has to go. After all the things Darian got right, we can’t really argue with him.”
“He’s much too dead for arguments,” Jason agreed. “You kind of want to go anyhow, right?”
Rachel knew that Jason needed that to be true. He was too nice of a person, and they were too close. If he felt like he had forced her to leave Lyrian so that he could stay, he might feel guilty for the rest of his life.
“I feel the same way I’ve felt for a long time,” Rachel said honestly. “I want my parents to know that I’m alive. I want to see them again. But I’ll miss a lot of things. I’ll miss all my friends here. I’ve grown used to Lyrian. It’s hard to picture living elsewhere.” She was worried about what her voice might sound like if she expressed her deepest concern. “I’ll miss Edomic.”
Jason nodded, his eyes serious. “Do you need me to go instead?”
Rachel wondered how much he meant it. Enough to say it, at least, which was worth something. “This has always been the plan. Besides, Darian mentioned your daughter visiting him, which can’t happen if you aren’t in Lyrian.”
“He didn’t warn that it had to happen,” Jason said. “It might have just been a possible future. Who knows? Maybe my daughter could cross over like I did?”
“You’ve built much more of a life here than I have,” Rachel said frankly. “You’ve gotten closer to people. You’ve gotten involved. You run a huge estate. You employ people. You’re the Grand Duke of Caberton, along with your other titles. You could be chancellor if you wanted.”
Jason shook his head. “Nicholas is better for that job. At least for now.”
“Besides,” Rachel said, “Corinne would never forgive me.”
Jason had trouble hiding his grin as he looked away. “Did she say something?”
“I can just tell.”
“We’re just friends,” Jason insisted.
“I know,” Rachel said. “Good friends. No other guys get the attention she shows you.”
Jason shrugged, still unable to meet her eyes. He had it bad. “You never know.”
“Don’t worry,” Rachel said. “I’m going to leave, just like we planned. If it weren’t for my parents . . . and the prophecy . . . but there’s no point in thinking that way. I’m feeling better again. The anxiety comes and goes.”
“It’ll be strange without you,” Jason said. “I’ll be the last Beyonder.”
“Except for the lurkers,” Rachel corrected.
“I’ll have to stay tight with Corinne for that, if nothing else,” Jason said. “Even if Lurky Two does serve me, I don’t like it in my dreams. I prefer to have a translator.”
Rachel smiled faintly. She had often talked to his lurker for him. The lurker could understand Jason just fine when he spoke. It could even read his thoughts if he gave mental commands. But Jason couldn’t hear acknowledgments or responses. He’d be all right. He had Corinne to help, and Galloran if needed. The king managed his three torivor bodyguards just fine. Without telepathy Farfalee and Jasher communicated well enough with their indentured lurker, getting help from Elaine as needed.
Everyone would be fine. With Trensicourt leading the way, Lyrian was becoming more prosperous and stable every day. Her friends would be safe. “I’ll miss you.”
“Give it some time. Eventually this will all seem like a weird dream.”
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t think so. Too much has happened.”
“You’ll deliver my letter?”
“And the jewels. And I’ll develop the photos.” She was returning with lots of photographic evidence. Most of the shots had been taken after the war. It was hard to take pictures while running for your life. She would keep most of the images private, but some photos would accompany Jason’s letter.