The First Dragon(84)

“But,” said Rose, “without the lock on the door.”

“Never with a lock,” Madoc said, shaking his head. “Never again.”

“We’re building a small cottage on one of the other islands,” Edmund said. “This room is the only one that’s in the present, and I need to have someplace to retreat to from time to time.”

“ ‘We’?” asked Madoc.

Edmund blushed and smiled. “I’ve asked Laura Glue to marry me,” he said, slightly embarrassed, “and she said yes.”

“That’s wonderful!” Rose said, rushing over to hug the young Cartographer. “The first wedding in the New Archipelago.”

“Thanks,” said Edmund, “but it’s the same Archipelago, isn’t it? We just brought everything back.”

“No,” Madoc said firmly. “It’s not the same. It’s better—because wiser people are making better choices about it this time around, and,” he added, putting his arm around Rose, “I hope that this time, I will be one of them.”

♦ ♦ ♦

Back in her quarters at Tamerlane House, Rose flopped down on her bed, exhausted, and realized there was a parcel sitting on one of her desks. Wearily, she got back up and turned on a light. What she saw made her gasp.

It was the Ruby Armor of T’ai Shan.

There was also a note, addressed to her, but unsigned—although she knew without any doubt whom it was from. She carried the parcel back over to her bed and opened up the note, which was written on the now familiar cream-colored paper. It read:

My dear Rose,

This armor belongs to you now. I have no further use for it, but you may still do some good in the world. I hope that I have as well, though I cannot be sure. I tried to help when I could, and I hope it was enough. I know that there are still many questions, and I’m afraid you’ll have to answer them on your own. That is part of the path of the Imago. But I know you, Rose, and I believe in you. And if anyone ever questions you, if they question your motives, or your choices, you can point to me as an example. I had every reason to fall into shadow, but when I had the opportunity to choose, I chose the light. Not because of some noble cause, or for any great purpose, but because, when I was a child, and I was afraid, the Caretakers did not leave me behind.

Small gestures can change the world. Never forget that, my dear Rose. And never forget me.

Tears began to well up in Rose’s eyes again as she read and reread the note, and then her breath caught when she realized that there was someone in the room with her, sitting quietly in the shadows.

“Telemachus?” she said. “Is that you?”

Her silent visitor stood up, and she realized it wasn’t the boy prince—it was Poe.

He walked to the door, beckoning for her to follow.

The corridors and hallways were empty—all the Caretakers were keeping themselves busy with the restoration project, and so they were spending as little time as possible cooped up inside Tamerlane House. So Rose simply followed Poe as they walked silently to the uppermost minaret of the house.

Poe walked to the balcony and pushed open the doors, letting in the sea air. Then, with no preamble, he began to speak.

“The Archimago came first into the new world,” Poe began, “because that was the way of things. Without darkness to penetrate, light would have no meaning. And so he came to make his way, and find his purpose. The Imago followed after, but the light was too much for the Archimago to bear. He was merely a Namer, whereas his younger sibling, the Imago, was a Maker.

“He didn’t realize that there could be as much meaning in Naming as in Making, and in his jealousy, he . . .” Poe stopped, his voice trailing off into silence.

“From the moment I raised my hand and struck him,” Poe said, still not turning from the balcony, “and he fell to the ground . . . there was sorrow. And regret. I—I need you to know that.

“He was meant to be the Imago. The protector of the world, and I took that from him. I didn’t understand what I had done, until it was too late.”

He dropped a small ring to the floor, and it dissolved in smoke and ash. “A Binding,” he said, “of my own devising. I could not bear to speak of it, and so I made certain I never could—not until he was truly freed, and the damage I caused was undone. It was the best I could do to live here, in Kairos time, and try to restore that which I had destroyed, and to help those who cared for the Archipelago to try to find another Imago to take his place.”

At that he turned to look at her. “I am grateful that we have. I am grateful to you, Rose Dyson.”