Bradok jumped to his feet and pulled his boots on.
“Corin!” he yelled, dragging Rose out of the cave into the light.
A moment later, the skinny Daergar came trudging up the path, shouldering the axe he’d been using to cut fuel for the forge. He had a cloth bound round his eyes to protect them from the sun. None of the Daergar seemed to be able to stand the full daylight without a bandage.
“I don’t believe it,” he said when Rose showed him her arm.
“Take off your shirt,” Bradok said. “Lie in the sun and try it yourself.”
Hesitantly, Corin stripped off his shirt, exposing the gray streaks on his chest with tiny mushrooms growing in them. Within twenty minutes, three of the mushrooms had dried up and fallen off.
“I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes,” he said, standing up and showing the results to Rose and Bradok.
“My people thought there was no cure,” Corin added ruefully. “Most Daergar live their whole lives without ever seeing the surface world. How could they possibly guess that the dreaded Zhome could be cured by something as simple as sunlight?”
“So take your shirt off for a brief time every day when the sun is out,” Rose said. “Not too much. The Zhome will heal, but you don’t want to get sunburned on top of everything else.”
Corin smiled, slipping his shirt back on.
“So sunlight isn’t all bad, eh? Live and learn! I’m going to go tell Urlish about this,” he said, excusing himself.
Bradok raised an eyebrow as Corin hurried off. Urlish was the quiet farmer Rose had brought with her in the trade delegation. She didn’t seem Corin’s type, but they all had been through a lot together, and here and there dwarves were pairing off.
Speaking of that, Rose sidled up to him. “You know what this means?” she said, her hip touching his and her shoulder pressing into his chest.
“What?” Bradok asked, looking down into her beaming face.
She elbowed him hard in the ribs, which only made him gasp a little. “It means we don’t have to worry anymore. We can have children,” she said. “Just as soon as I’m cleansed.”
Bradok put his arm around her and kissed her.
Whatever else their new life brought him, he doubted he could be happier than at that moment.
Bradok opened his eyes in the predawn darkness. Something had roused him from sleep, and he lay awake, listening. After several minutes, he’d resolved to go back to sleep but knew that he had to get up in an hour anyway.
With a sigh, he swung his feet out of bed and stood, pulling on his robe. Moving as quietly as possible, he crossed the wood floor and stepped out on the balcony outside his room. In the distance the first light of the sun could be seen painting the lowlands a pale gold.
He’d watched the sun come up almost every day for six years, rising on the little community they had named Kresthorn, which meant “Journey’s End” in the Elder Tongue. Below him, he could see the wheel of Much’s mill turning relentlessly in the little stream.
Smoke rose from the chimneys above Kellik’s forge, and Bradok knew Hemmish and Rijul were up already, getting the forge prepared for the coming day’s work.
Below them, in the bowl of the valley, Corin and Urlish were tending a neat little farm with orderly fields of vegetables and grains standing all in rows.
Tal had married Starlight Anvil, the eldest of the Anvil grandchildren. Despate the difference in their ages, they seemed perfect for each other. Tal tended his gardens and the small apple orchard they had planted, serving as doctor whenever the need arose.
Next to the orchard, Xurces and Corin had put up a small brewery that wouldn’t go into full-scale production until the apple trees matured.
Xurces married Lyra, and they seemed happy just to be together and brew ale and raise Jade and little Bradok.
Even Thurl found a place, putting his knowledge of foul chemicals to better use as the town tanner.
The only person who had not stayed in the new dwarf community was the human Perin. They all had grown fond of him and missed him.
He had disappeared in the middle of the night one week after they arrived there, taking the metal book from Starlight Hall with him. Nobody minded, but Bradok couldn’t understand why the human would want a book of stories about Galoka and his people. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing that would interest a human.
A hand touched Bradok’s leg, and he looked back to see a little red-haired girl looking up at him.
“Teal,” he said, picking her up and setting her on the railing in front of him. “What are you doing up?”
“She heard you and insisted I know about it,” Rose’s sleepy voice answered as she joined him on the balcony.
She wore a simple robe, like the one Bradok had, though hers barely concealed her bulging middle.
“It’s all right,” she said as Teal snuggled into Bradok’s shirt. “Your son was kicking me anyway.” She put her hand on her belly and smiled. “I think he wants out.”
“You’re sure it’s a boy?” Bradok asked.
Rose smiled. “Of course,” she said. “He’s way too jumpy to be a girl.”
“Then I’ve decided,” Bradok said. “I don’t care if Corin likes it or not; if it’s a boy, we’re calling him Omer.”
Rose put her arm around Bradok, and little Teal let go of her daddy in favor of nuzzling her mom.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Rose said.
CHAPTER 26
The Journeyman stood on a stone parapet overlooking the courtyard in front of the anvil chamber. He wore a light woven robe and sandals bound with a simple belt. The wind chilled him, cutting through the plain garment as a slushy rain fell over the City of Lost Names. He didn’t know when the Aesthetic would arrive, but he watched a few minutes anyway, staring out into the gray pallor of the stormy sky.
It didn’t matter, he told himself. He wasn’t likely to see that particular Aesthetic coming.
Shivering as the wind blew the rain over him, he turned and made his way back inside. The wet leather of his sandals slapped the stone staircase as he passed down a level to the snug chamber he had made his residence.
As he opened the heavy door, a wave of heat rolled out of the room, enveloping him. He stood there in the door for a moment, allowing the feeling of warmth to swell within him before he entered. He’d been cold for so long that he relished the warmth, savoring it like lingering over a fine meal.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind himself, and crossed the carpeted floor to a high-backed, overstuffed leather chair. Though the Journeyman liked his pleasures, the room itself was simple. A plain bed stood in one corner with a wardrobe and a night table nearby. A washbasin and cloak rack were farther along the wall, just past the space where the door opened.
Along the opposite wall, the Journeyman had an immense writing desk with many drawers for pens, ink, paper, and other sundries. And in the far corner stood an iron stove with a coal scuttle in front of it and a black pipe on top that carried the smoke out through a hole in the stone.
The chair sat next to the stove with a cushy footstool resting before it. A small book table stood by the chair, and a magical lantern hung over it, suspended by a curved piece of wood that attached to the back of the chair.
The Journeyman sat, kicking off his sandals and crossing his feet on the stool. On his left foot, the two little toes were missing, and the wound hadn’t quite healed, causing the Journeyman to ease one foot gently over the
