The Lore Of The Evermen (Book 4) (47 page)

72

Ella stayed in Evrin’s house for weeks, only surfacing to venture to the nearby bakeries and markets for the barest sustenance, just enough to get her through another day of study.

She found still more rooms filled with books: they filled Evrin’s bedchamber and even his wardrobe. Ella snuggled deep in the
armchair
and read, clearing all other thoughts from her mind. There were lifetimes of knowledge here. Ella planned to accumulate as much as she could.

Ella lost track of time. Sometimes she woke before dawn; other times she slept until late in the afternoon.

Soon she planned to enter Evrin’s workroom. It was time to test out some of the things she’d learned.

Frowning as she tried to understand a particularly difficult
treatise
on the various forms of light—apparently some light could even be invisible, Ella looked up in annoyance as she heard a loud curse from somewhere outside the house.

She moved to the door and waved her hand in front of the wood, muttering a swift series of activations. The door became transparent and Ella could look out, though she knew whoever it was couldn’t look in.

She put her hand to her mouth as she saw who it was.

Her heart began to beat rapidly.

How had he found her? Should she open the door?

Ella drew in a shuddering breath and summoned her courage.

She pulled the door open.

Ella stepped out, walking down the steps to stand in front of the cottage, and she knew that to the newcomer she’d appeared as if out of thin air.

Killian yelped and jumped backward as he saw her. He was nursing his hand, which it seemed he’d burned trying to get past the gate.

Ella touched her hand to the red part of her hair. It was a few shades lighter than Killian’s fiery color.

Killian looked at her in astonishment. Ella spoke a word and the gate swung open to allow him through.

“What is this place?”

“It’s Evrin’s sanctum,” Ella said. “You wouldn’t believe—”

“I’ve looked everywhere for you,” Killian interrupted. “I’ve searched far and wide. If you didn’t have to eat,”—he shook his head—“I would never have found you.”

His expression was filled with raw emotion, and seeing him like this filled Ella with fear. Yet there was another emotion curled up within the fear, struggling to break free.

Ella hadn’t seen him since Sentar’s defeat. He’d left immediately to do what he could for the city, and after using her new abilities to help wherever she could, Ella had followed her own path.

Ella knew Killian had his love, Carla, somewhere in the city, a woman Ella had no desire to meet. She knew he hated her for the relationship she’d had with Ilathor. Back in Seranthia, before Sentar’s arrival, Ella had thought something could work between them, but now Ella didn’t want to be close to anyone. The pain wasn’t worth it.

“Killian . . . I—”

“Ella, don’t talk; just listen. I know the life you’ve had,” Killian said. “I’ve had the same life. We can’t always have the best childhood, but when we grow up, we’re given a chance. We can start all over again. We get to form our own family, and this time we can get it right.”

Ella felt tears form in her eyes, and she sought escape. She looked back at the house and then at Killian again. His blue eyes burned with feeling.

Killian stepped forward and reached out to touch Ella’s lock of red hair. “We have to take a chance. You and I were meant to be together. Do you know another word for chance? Fate.”

“How do you know?” Ella whispered.

“Know? I don’t know it, I feel it.”

“I can’t. I’ve lost—”

“I know,” Killian said. He held out his hand. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Ella looked into Killian’s eyes, and suddenly all thoughts of Evrin’s sanctum left her.

“Come with me,” Killian said, still holding out his hand. “Please.”

Ella made her choice.

She stepped close to him, and she felt his larger hand enfold hers. She followed Killian through the gate, and it shut behind them with a soft click.

The knowledge could wait.

Ella and Killian walked together up the winding path, strolling through the streets of Seranthia, past the markets and down to
the doc
ks.

At first they walked in silence. Ella opened and closed her mouth several times, but she didn’t know where to begin.

With a feeling of terrible sadness, Ella realized she’d nearly
broken
her promise to Rogan. She’d said she would talk, but she’d done what she always did and fled to knowledge. She owed Rogan more than that.

As she and Killian reached the water’s edge, both staring out over the still expanse of glistening ocean, Ella finally began to talk. She told Killian about the true nature of her relationship with
Ilathor
, and he told her about what had happened with Carla.

Ella shared herself, and Killian listened, just like he had when they first met in Sarostar on the banks of the Sarsen.

For hours Ella and Killian simply talked, watching the sun fall down toward the horizon and seeing the first stars come out
at nigh
t.

Finally, as the warm summer breeze blew across the rippling water, the reflected stars saw the couple standing close together, sharing their innermost feelings. Ella summoned every reserve of her courage to do something she’d never done before.

Ella told Killian she loved him.

 

73

High above Seranthia’s harbor, a small park spread to the edge of a low cliff. It was the perfect place to watch the stars come out, with a view of both the docks and the sea. A long bench of worn wood with a high back sat close to the drop, and there were people sitting on the bench, drinking in the view.

Miro stretched and then leaned back against the seat, before something caught his eye.

“Look who it is,” he said.

Miro pointed to a place on the edge of the docks where two people stood together, looking out over the water, huddled close as they spoke. One was a man with fiery red hair that reflected the lights of the city and the stars. The other was a slender young woman with pale hair cascading down her back, shining silver in the evening light.

Miro watched as Killian put his arm around Ella and she placed her head against his shoulder.

“He loves her,” Amber said.

“I know,” Miro said. “And she loves him too.”

“It’s about time.” The third person on the bench spoke in a rough, gravelly voice. “She’s going to kill me when she finds out. Was it really necessary?”

“If that wound couldn’t kill you, then you’ve got nothing to fear from my sister,” Miro said, grinning. “We all agreed to it, but it was my idea. Trust me, if anyone needs a push, it’s her.”

“And the proof is right there in front of us,” said Amber.

Miro and his two companions watched the lovers in silence as each of them thought their own private thoughts. Miro
considered
how far they’d all come. He thought about all the friends he’d lost, but also the friends he wouldn’t have made without the wars.
Creation
followed destruction in the strangest ways.

Miro wondered what was next for Ella. That was for her to decide. He knew where his home was.

“I’m thinking about Tomas,” Amber said. “I miss my son.”

“Me too,” Miro said.

Miro returned his gaze back to Seranthia’s harbor. There would be a lot of work to do when he arrived back in Altura, but compared to worrying about defenses, rebuilding his homeland was a task he relished.

He would pour every resource into restoring Castlemere and Schalberg to their former selves. He would help the Veldrins find their way home.

But most of all, he would spend time with his family. Miro and Ella had both grown up as orphans. Amber and Tomas were Miro’s chance for a fresh start.

Miro’s vision returned to his sister and her love. They didn’t look like they would be moving for a long, long time.

“How do you think you’ll like retirement?” Miro asked.

“Like it?” Rogan said. “Nothing will give me greater pleasure than spending my days fishing on the Sarsen.”

“Or dropping by the Pens to offer some advice,” Amber smiled.

Rogan snorted. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed writing the Evermen Saga. It’s been an incredible journey, and like the characters in my books I’ve been fortunate to make some friends along the way.

Huge thanks go to my editor, Emilie, and the team at 47North, for excellent guidance, support, and assistance with every aspect of development and publication. Thank you also David for believing in me.

Thanks go to Mike for tireless efforts developing the manuscript, and Mark and Peta for all your help with the tough parts.

Most of all, in this, the last book in the series, I wish to
highlight
that none of this would have been possible without the readers who supported me from the beginning. Without you, Enchantress would still be gathering silicon dust on a hard disk and the relic would still be hidden.

Thanks to all of you who’ve reached out to me and taken the time to post reviews of my books.

My final thanks I reserve for my wife, Alicia.

I will be ever grateful for your constant support.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

James Maxwell found inspiration
growing
up in the lush forests of New Zealand, and later in rugged Australia where he was educated. Devouring fantasy and science fiction
classics
at an early age, his love for books translated
to a passion for writing, which he began
at age 11.

He relocated to London at age 25, but continued to seek
inspiration
wherever he could find it, in the grand cities of the old world and the monuments of fallen empires. His travels influenced his writing as he spent varying amounts of time in forty countries on six continents.

He wrote his first full-length novel,
Enchantress
, while living on an isle in Thailand and its sequel,
The Hidden Relic
, from a coastal town on the Yucatan peninsula in Mexico.

The third book in the Evermen Saga,
The Path of the Storm
, was written in the Austrian Alps, and he completed the fourth,
The Lore of the Evermen
, in Malta.

When he isn’t writing or traveling, James enjoys sailing, snowboarding, classical guitar, and French cooking.

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