Gail Martin - The blood king

Now, Tris thought, perhaps he could do his mother and Kait one final service.

"I've come for you," he said to the empty air. "I've come to set you free." Tris closed his eyes, stretching out along the spectral plains where the restless spirits walked. He felt the touch of a familiar soul, and then another. He opened his eyes to find Serae and Kait standing in front of him. Weakened as they had become within the orb, they had not been destroyed. Tris tried to retain the presence of mind to work the magic he must do. He used his power to make the ghosts visible to Kiara.

"You've won!" Kait said, beaming with pride. "I knew you could. Look at you, king now and a mage!"

Tris had to swallow again before he found his voice. "You know I wish it had never been necessary. I miss you terribly."

"The Lady chooses our paths," Serae's spirit said, her voice as calm in death as it had been in life. "You serve her well."

"I can let you rest," Tris said brokenly. "If you wish." His own heartfelt desire to keep them close to him went unspoken; it was an imposition he dared not make. "But there's someone I want you to meet. This is Kiara of Isencroft, daughter of King Donelan. My betrothed."

Kait grinned and clapped. Serae extended her hands in welcome to Kiara, stepping forward to give a ghostly kiss on each cheek. Serae reached out and laid her hand on Tris's arm.

"With the crown and a bride, you have all that you require to rule Margolan, my son. You don't require my blessing, but I'll give it to you anyway." The ghost smiled at both Tris and Kiara. Kait threw her arms around Tris. Insubstantial though she was Tris welcomed the contact, glad for the chance to sense his sister's spirit at peace.

"When you were born," Serae said, "Mother told me that it would be you who would wear the crown. I never told anyone, not even your father. I never wanted that burden for you. But she was right. You're her heir as much as Bricen's and my own. You've done well."

Tris sensed the presence of two more spirits, revenants strong enough to make their appearance plain to Kiara. Bava K'aa and Lemuel stood beside Serae, and Bava K'aa embraced her daughter. Serae looked from her mother to Lemuel.

"I heard what you told Tris about the Obsidian King," Serae said. "And while I loved Grayson dearly as my father, I can sense in my spirit that what you said is true."

Bava K'aa nodded. Her eyes held the memory of remembered pain. "I'm sorry for the deception, my dear. It was necessary to save your life-and perhaps mine, as well. And to spare Grayson from humiliation that he did not deserve. Now all is known."

"Will you also go to the Lady?" Tris asked his grandmother and Lemuel.

Bava K'aa nodded once more. "I chose to stay on after my death to protect you, and in the hopes that one day I might be able to free Lemuel. You no longer need my protection, and Lemuel is free.

We're ready to go to our rest. We would be honored if you would make the passing over."

Tris looked down, unable to speak. He willed himself to raise his head and meet his mother's eyes. "Then let's begin," he said in a voice like gravel, squaring his shoulders. He closed his eyes once more, stretching out along the currents of magic, feeling the power rise to his command. He felt the shift in his soul that signaled his presence in the spirit world as well as the world of light. For a few precious moments he gathered his family around him, warm and real to the touch. Then he spoke the words of power that freed them, sending their spirits to rest with the Lady.

"Never doubt that you are the Chosen of the Lady," his mother's voice sounded from afar. "She does not choose her champions in vain."

"Goodbye," Tris whispered. When he opened his eyes again, they were gone. He bowed his head, and Kiara wrapped her arms around him. She waited as he swallowed back the last of the tears. Then she took his hand, and they stepped into the corridor together.

Carroway was waiting patiently for them, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, grinning widely.

"You don't waste time," the bard jibed good-naturedly. "A throne and a queen. Now if you'll just appoint me Master Minstrel…"

Tris slipped his arm around Kiara's waist, wincing as his newly healed ribs protested. "Be careful what you wish for," Tris teased. "You're already in charge of planning both a coronation and a wedding."

Carroway grinned wider. "Suits me fine. I'll help the steward plan the food, and I'll arrange the best entertainment and decorations in the Winter Kingdoms. That's how reputations are made, after all," he said with an exaggerated courtly bow.

"Let's wait until tomorrow to start planning the menu, if it's all the same to you," Tris asked tiredly.

"It's been tomorrow for a while now," Carroway replied. "Carina is with Jonmarc. He won't be going anywhere for a long time. I promised to send orders to the kitchen-if the servants ever return- to have their meals sent up to Jonmarc's room." Carroway grinned conspiratorially. "Maybe there'll be a double wedding, before all is said and done. Ban left orders that you're not to be disturbed until noon, but a line of petitioners is already forming and one or two of your father's old retainers have come out of hiding.

"That makes it possible, and probably wise, to convey the crown later this morning." Carroway held up a hand to forestall any protest. "Mikhail pointed out that kingdoms can be lost on technicalities. You've won the crown, but you haven't actually been proclaimed king. He tells me there is protocol for a field coronation-King Hotten was crowned that way, so there is precedent-and we can worry about all the pomp and circumstance later."

Carroway shook his head. "We've got a mess to clean up just restaffing the castle," he went on. "And we have to convince the servants that the vayash moru will keep the truce, or they won't step foot back in the kitchen. We'll be eating cheese and salt beef for the rest of our lives."

"I don't know," Tris teased, "all that time on the road kind of gave me a taste for salt beef."

"Trail rations never hurt anyone," Kiara joined in. "Builds character."

Carroway rolled his eyes. "I've had my character built enough for ten lifetimes. Now I just want one of those comfortable court positions where I can write songs immortalizing the king and his lady and become one of the most honored bards of the kingdoms."

"Let me know if you don't have enough material for good stories," Tris said. "I can send you back out for a while with Ban. Or maybe Gabriel would take you in."

Carroway gave him a sidelong glance. "No thanks. I think I've got enough to work on."

Kiara laughed. "You two have got business to take care of. I'll go see how Carina and Jonmarc are doing. Don't worry-I'll be with you shortly."

Tris kissed her and let her go, watching as she headed down the corridor.

Carroway looked at Tris, dressed in a borrowed tunic and trews, and shook his head. "I can see that the first order of business is to get you outfitted like a king and not like a tent rigger. Come with me, and let's see what we can find."

SIX WEEKS LATER, the palace courtyards were again filled with cheering crowds for the formal coronation of the new king of Margolan.

"Carroway really outdid himself." Kiara sat with Tris in the banquet hall after the coronation ceremony.

"Remind me never to make him a dare again," Tris replied. True to his word, Carroway had engineered a fete of grand proportions on short notice, with musicians, entertainers, bonfires, and jousts. Tris protested, to no avail, that far too much had been made of the event.

"Staden's enjoying himself," Kiara added. She glanced toward where the Principality king sat, regaling the others at their table with hunting stories. Berry sat next to him, resplendent in a gown of emerald brocade, looking bored. Royster, still unready to return to his self-imposed exile at the Library, was exuberantly keeping the noble ladies on the terrace entertained with his stories.