Rise of the Dead Prince (50 page)

After an amazingly brief discussion of the matter, the hunter and the farmer paid Gunar a visit as emissaries. The burned mile had been reopened, for the Gunars had investigated the plague and found no danger. Under the flag of truce, Dor and Trent went forth and “negotiated” the end of hostilities. The Gunars actually tried to tell them “no,” but after a brief “demonstration,” they reconsidered. Those two never quite told me what they did, but I get the feeling that they stretched the meaning of the word “truce” a tiny bit. Well, good for them, I say. Apparently, Gunar thinks there are a lot of people like Dor and Trent in Valahia. I think that our friends implied that. Even so, the Gunars should be glad that they never decided to send an army against Meier. But then, who knows? He might have made friends with them. Actually, I think he would have. That’s just the way he is. Can you imagine a nation with friendly neighbors on all sides? That would be somet
hing.

Speaking of neighbors, I will tell you about the Karavunians and what became of them. Lotho went back to Karavunia as fast as humanly possible. They received the gift of twenty-one horses, and these they accepted gratefully. Once Lotho reached Karavunia, I kept a good eye on him, partially with Meier’s help, and indeed I do still look in on the young man frequently. Lotho took up his uncle’s crown (reluctantly) and quelled the chaos in Karavunia City. The reinstatement of the state power was done in an amazingly quick manner. He has twenty assistants that he keeps close, and while they are in no way administrators, they
are
extremely hard workers. Twenty-four hours a day, there is always someone in charge of something. I think Karavunia will be just
fine.

Last, I will record what has become of Meier and Allie. They were married by Ian two months after the golden wave hit. Over
one hundred thousand
people were in attendance in and around the triply overfilled city of Targov. I only got a good seat because I’m old, and they like me. Raven sat on the high balcony and recorded every word in his perfect mind. I even gave Allie away, you know. Or should I have mentioned that earlier? Well, I’m not reinking that in any case. Dor and Trent drew
straws for best man. Dor won. In exchange, Trent got the second dance with Allie after the one with Meier. Ian and I had to wait, but I’m a terrible dancer anyway. The whole event was very moving, and Meier had to make another speech, albeit a much sappier one. Allie and Meier still live in the castle (thank goodness), which saves me the trouble of visiting them all. “
All?
” you ask. Which reminds me. They have a little daughter now! She was born only a month ago, and she was glowing gold when she came out! It was odd, but only when you forget the impossibility of Meier’s existence. As a homage to the auspicious nature of her birth, and indeed to the source itself, they named her “Amber.” She’s a spunky creature, and although it’s far too soon to be
sure,
I think I will be teaching magic to another Valahian royal, assuming I last that long. Here’s hoping she can stay awake better than her father c
ould.

On those lines, I should mention that since the breaking of the dammed source, magic has begun to sprout up in Valahia again. It explains so much, but you’ve undoubtedly guessed that. I’ve never written of it from my own knowledge, but Raven has taught me what he once taught Meier, albeit briefly. You see, there are two types of magic in this world. The dark you know of well, but the other side is light or more specifically
life
. The world has been starved of the latter for so long that it appears to be making up for lost time. The eyes of life magic users glow
gold.
Meier has looked into this, and just as easily as he knows the dark, he seems to be getting the hang of the other side, piece by piece. He’s already talked to Ian about a lofty goal of his, and I think in a few years it will come to fruition. He wants to build a tower, you see. It will be white, made of marble and alabaster, just like the one he saw when Suvira entered his mind, and he hers. Once built, he intends to surround it with a small town, and the main function of the tower and the town around it will be simple. It will be a
school
of a very special sort. Meier knows, as indeed Raven and I know, that there will be many children born soon that will have the gift of magic flowing in their veins. I can think of no one better to lead them than M
eier.

I would love to write that
all
is well in every corner, but that can never fully be true. However, Valahia is in better shape than it has been in all its long history. It has heroes, and it has a hearty, surviving folk. Every day I watch them grow and mend. It’s more than an old man like me could ever have hoped to live long enough to see. This generation has something that no other has had. They have suffered more than any other. They have seen more than any other. They will work harder than any other. They will survive. They will grow and thrive. They will overcome any obstacle or hardship. How do I know? Am I a prophet? No, I am truly not. I just make good guesses. I know for one reason alone, and it is this. This generation is going to make it, because
they
have
Meier
, the Dead and Living Prince of Valahia, to watch over
them.

—Crocus

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

B
rian A. Hurd lives in Denton, Tx. with his two daughters, Astrid and Lily. Other works include the now available dark fantasy novel Bitter Waters, first book of the “Wormwood Chroni
cles.”