Covenant's End (29 page)

“So I'm told,” the thief replied, still absolutely clueless as to what that was all about.

Igraine tactfully changed topics. “What are
you
going to do?”

“Short term? Try to find Evrard. Or at least learn if he's still alive.”

“Still no word, then?”

“Nope. Just the mess at his suite. Blood and broken furniture, but no bodies. Not my favorite guy, but he helped. I figure I owe him that much. After that, help Robin and Faustine rebuild the Witch.

“But long term? I honestly don't know.”

“If they need a place to stay,” Igraine began, “or if you do…well, with so many Finders in gaol, there are a few empty safe houses. I could—”

“Thank you. Really. But no, we've got a temporary place.”

Igraine nodded, coughed at a puff of ambient cinders from the chimney—and then her whole face fell. “You didn't!”

“Why not? I mean, he's already paid for the place through summer. Until then, or if he turns up alive before then…. It's a
really
nice place. Or will be, once we get the blood cleaned up.”

Shins decided she'd stretched enough—and
not
because her thigh was starting to ache, dogs grommet!—and stood. She took the opportunity to brace herself, emotionally and even physically, in the process.

“None of this is why you came looking for me, though,” she said.

Igraine's expression was answer enough.

“Church stuff, then,” Shins said. “Sicard?”

“Driving himself crazy, trying to keep the rest of the city's clergy calm. Nobody knows if he had the right to do any of what he did. And that's just locally. Once word reaches Lourveaux, we're probably looking at years of conferences, investigations, political wrangling…

“But none of it matters. It's all just face-saving. All of us felt it when the Pact accepted Olgun.” Shins struggled not to wince at Igraine's use of the name. “At the end of the day, if the gods accept what Sicard did, the Church'll have to. To avoid open schism if nothing else.”

“I'm glad.” Part of Widdershins even meant it. The rest of her wished Igraine would go away so she could cry again. “He deserves their acceptance. He—”

“But that's still not why I'm here.”

Shins's brow furrowed.

“The story of Olgun is spreading through Davillon. And with it, the story of Adrienne Satti. Between that, and the fact that half the city's priests woke up from dreams declaring your innocence…well, you'll have some legal hurdles to jump, and there may be a few aristocrats here and there who'll never accept it. But Adrienne can have her life back, if she wants it.”

Widdershins didn't consciously decide to sit, didn't even
remember
sitting. One minute, she was standing a few paces from the priestess, the next her backside was in a cold puddle, her legs sprawled out before her.

“I don't…this…I never…”

“There's not much of the Delacroix estate remaining, but what's left has been put aside. We got enough of the Houses to agree on
that
much, though there may have been some legal threats made. You won't be anywhere near rich, but you won't go wanting for a good few years. When you decide, it'll be waiting.”

“Is it me, or does it feel like this building's foundation might be made of old fruit?” Shins asked weakly.

The priestess's smile was genuine but brief. “That's
still
not the full reason I'm here.”

“I'm pretty sure I'm not secretly a lost princess, and that everyone I think is dead…” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, just for a moment, at the thought of the ghostly figures who'd saved her. “…really
is
dead. So I'm not sure what else you've got to surprise me with.”

Igraine carefully crouched, so they were again on a level. “Your situation with Olgun was unique. So was his entry into the Pact. To judge by the omens and signs, he made a few—bargains.

“This can only happen once, Widdershins.”

“I don't understand.” Shins felt something turn over in her gut. “What can only happen—?”

The priestess's eyes rolled back in her head. She began to topple, just as swiftly caught herself. Gracefully she stood, beckoning Shins to do the same.

“Hello, Adrienne.”

It came from Igraine. Her chest rose and fell, her mouth moved with the words. But this voice was deep, sonorous, and gently brushed with an accent Shins had never heard.

Never heard, but knew all the same.

“Olgun…?”

Igraine—Olgun—smiled to shame the sun. “We both know that I
can
hear you when you speak so softly, but there is no reason to—
oof!
”

Shins slammed into him, arms wrapped desperately tight around him, and sobbed into his chest.

Only when she felt fingers running so very softly through her hair did she begin to calm—and only when she heard the soft but resonant sounds of a god softly weeping with her did she pull herself together and take a step back.

“I have to confess,” she said, sniffling and quickly wiping a hand across her nose, “this is really
not
how I pictured you.”

His laughter seemed too large for reality, felt as though it couldn't possibly be coming from Igraine's slender form. Finally, when he'd calmed, “It is a new outfit I am trying on.”

Her turn, then, to laugh; no mere chuckle, as before, but
real
laughter. She felt a hundred times lighter. “Gods, there's so much I want to talk to you about. So much…”

She petered out as Olgun's expression sobered. He didn't need to say anything; she knew.

“How long do we have?” she asked with a quiet hitch.

“I am sorry, Adrienne. Only a few minutes. It would require longer than that for me to explain why, so let us say only that it is to do with the natural laws of divinity, along with a desire not to cause any harm to Igraine.”

“Then why?” She knew it was a childish, bitter question, unworthy of either of them, yet she couldn't help but ask it. “Why even come back? What's the point?”

“To see you,” he said kindly. “And because you saved me. So many times, in so many ways. I could not go without saying good-bye.”

The rooftop grew blurry again as Shins struggled, and failed, to keep from tearing up yet again. “I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry.”

“No.” This time it was he who stepped up to her, he who embraced her. “You do not need to apologize to me. Not ever. I do not believe a god has ever owed so much to any one mortal. We are all grateful for it, the whole of the Pact. Although none other so much as I.”

“Even Cevora?” she sniffled, trying to smile.

“Even he. A savage and ambitious god, yes, but his Acolyte went much too far in his madness. Cevora would never deign to offer apologies to a mortal, but I believe he truly regrets.”

A nod, another sniffle.

“I have to depart soon, Adrienne.”

“
No!
” Again she clutched at him, hard, even as she struggled to calm herself. “I mean, I know you do, I…Olgun, please. Please stay.”

“I cannot. Oh, dear one, I truly
cannot
.”

It came out a whisper, nothing more. “I don't want to be alone.”

The god in mortal flesh stepped back, so he might look at her, and she at him, even as he kept a tight hold on her shoulders. “You will never be alone. Not ever.

“You have spoken to Igraine, to Ancel, to William. You know that our priests have a connection with us. They are favored by chance. They receive word through signs and omens. And we speak to them in dreams.”

“I'm not a
priest
!” she squealed.

The god laughed once more. “Amusing as it would be to see you try, no, you are not. But I can grant you as much. You are strong, fast, already, if less than you were. After our years together, I think you always will be. And I shall always watch over you, as though you
were
my highest priest. I will grant you what luck I can, and I will visit, on occasion, in your dreams.”

Better than nothing, perhaps, but it wasn't enough, not nearly. “It won't ever be the same, though, will it?”

His fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Nothing ever is.”

Olgun's—Igraine's—eyelids trembled. “It is time,” he said.

“I know. Olgun, thank you.”

“No. Thank
you
. And Adrienne…I love you, too.”

Shins stared into what she knew to be Igraine's eyes. Olgun was gone.

The priestess said not a word, only offered Widdershins a brief hug of her own before turning away and disappearing back across the rooftop.

Widdershins turned, too, striding up to the very edge. From there she could see Davillon, bustling along as though it were just another day. The sky remained choked with clouds, but it felt as though there would be no more rain, for a time.

“It'd be nice to be dry for more than a few hours at a time, wouldn't it?”

The lack of response surprised her for only an instant, and she couldn't quite repress a smile, wondering if she'd ever break the habit of talking to herself.

“Maybe Widdershins and Adrienne can exchange a few words,” she muttered.

Widdershins. Adrienne. She had more than her life still ahead of her; she had two to choose from.

She had the Flippant Witch to rebuild. Whether she would stay with it after that, or return to the Guild, or both, or neither, she couldn't say. But the choice would be hers.

She had Robin, Renard, Faustine, and others. People who loved her and whom she truly loved—and if it was not always in the precise way they might
wish
she loved them, she knew they would still be there. Her family.

She had a god watching out for her, to the best of his ability. For her, more than any other man, woman, or child. Because he loved her, too.

And that was a lot. It wasn't enough, not yet.

But it would be.

Some of you hate me right now.

It's okay to admit it. Not only do I understand, but I kind of hate me right now, too.

I always struggle with good-bye-type endings. They make me sad, even the ones that aren't written to be; the closer I've felt to the characters, the sadder. So you can imagine how upset I was writing these last couple of chapters.

What you may
not
realize is that Widdershins has been more a part of me—my creative process, stories, plans, my imagination—than any other character. Technically, I created Corvis Rebaine (
The Conqueror's Shadow
) earlier, but only by a year or so. And Shins has, at the time I'm writing this, more word count devoted to her than Corvis does.

The first draft of the book that would eventually become
Thief's Covenant
was written way back around the summer and fall of 2000. It's been
massively
rewritten since then, multiple times, but throughout all of that, Shins herself didn't change much.

Yeah. A long time. She feels real to me, and that means her losses do, too.

So, as I'm sure some of you are asking, why do it?

Truth is, I almost didn't. The planning stages, outlining stages, writing stages; during each, there was at least one point where I nearly chickened out. If I'd been writing this book
just
for me, tailoring it to my own enjoyment, I probably would have. This is the first time what I've wanted emotionally, and what I've wanted creatively, have differed to such an extent.

In the end, though, I'm
not
writing this just for me. I'm not even writing it just for my audience, though you guys are one of my greatest motivators.

I'm writing it because I have things I want to say and stories I want to tell. And this? This is what was right for the story and the characters.

It was
dramatically
appropriate. Ending it this way made Widdershins's tale far more powerful and compelling than it otherwise would have been.

It was
creatively
appropriate. After four books, I felt like I was on the verge of starting to repeat myself. Nothing's more disappointing than a good character or series that hangs around too long, becomes a shadow of what it once was. I'd much rather I—and Shins—take a bow before that happens.

And it was
thematically
appropriate. You see, it was time for Shins to grow up.

I didn't
intend
to make the series a metaphor about growing up. Heck, when I wrote the first book, I didn't even intend it to be a series; I hadn't decided if I even wanted to write a sequel or not. It became very clear to me, however, as I was writing
False Covenant
and planning
Lost Covenant
and
Covenant's End
, that that's exactly what it had become. It was, my own intentions notwithstanding, a series about Shins maturing and learning to stand on her own.

Parents, whether they want to or not, have to eventually let their children go. Children, whether they like it or not, have to eventually stop relying on their parents. Oh, the family's still going to be there—special occasions, emergencies—but no longer a part of everyday life. No longer something to lean on.

Like Olgun and Shins.

So that's where I found myself. I've known since book two how book four had to end. I'm not one of those authors whose characters speak to them or anything like that. But in this case, the story really
did demand to go only one way, and it would have felt dishonest of me—as a storyteller, as an entertainer, as an author—to do otherwise.

What does that mean, then, for Widdershins? Is this really her last book, the last time we'll be seeing her?

Well…yes, no, and maybe. Isn't that a helpful answer?

Yes, this is the end of the current series, what I guess you could call “The Covenant Cycle.” Four books, over and done. There won't be any more of these, specifically.

No, it's probably not the last time you'll see her. While I have no more Widdershins books currently planned, I
do
intend—circumstances permitting, of course—to write more stories set in this world. If you think Shins isn't going to pop up occasionally in those, whether as a supporting character or just a cameo, then you haven't been paying attention. Shins doesn't keep her nose out of
anything
.

And maybe. I never know what ideas are going to come to me, and I don't rule anything out. The Covenant Cycle is done—any future Widdershins book will be a very different beast, given that she's no longer got her divine companion—but if the right story hits me, something that really feels Widdershinsy, I'll certainly write it. I'm not sure what it'd be like to write her without Olgun, but I'm not unwilling to find out.

(I do
not
anticipate ever putting them back together. I feel like that would be a cop-out and would cheapen the stories that have come so far. I guess it's possible that an absolutely genius idea for doing so might someday come to me, so I won't
swear
never to do it, but it's
highly
unlikely. Shins—and her writer—need to keep moving forward.)

I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to each and every one of you who came along on Shins's travels with me. This could never have happened without you, and you've made it an incredibly rewarding experience. I hope you'll join me on some of my other journeys, as well—if you liked the Widdershins books, I think you'll enjoy a good
portion of my other works—but even if you don't, thank you, truly, for sticking with this one.

Ari “Mouseferatu” Marmell
May 12, 2014