It took Alarick two days to reach the Keep. Weakened by fatigue and blood loss, he only made it as far as a remote farming village in France on his first attempt. He hid out in a barn loft while he dressed his shoulder wound and rested long enough to try again. The next try brought him to England, at least, but he landed in the woods outside a small, non-magical village. This time he managed to steal some bread from an empty house before hiding deep in the woods in a tangle of brush.
Rested, he tried a third time and made it to the Keep, but his arrival was imprecise. He meant to land in the library, but instead he landed in the front courtyard sometime in the pre-dawn hours. Alarick dragged himself to the castle steps but was unable to muster the strength to mount them. He lay there in the gathering frost, cursing the Ministry, himself, and life in general until sunrise when some of the grooms came out of the castle, headed for the stables and their morning's work.
After a bit of confusion at finding Master Brandon in a heap outside, they rallied and carried him inside to the infirmary.
"What he needs most is rest, warmth, water, and food," Candace said, after she and the other healers triaged his wounds.
She cleaned and bound the gunshot wound and cast an anti-pain spell so he could rest more comfortably. The wound was small enough that magical healing wasn't necessary. Alarick's body would take care of it with no long-term damage. She also covered him in what felt like ten blankets and placed a heated iron wrapped in another blanket underneath the covers by his feet. His teeth finally stopped chattering, but he still felt a cold that had nothing to do with external temperature and everything to do with his soul.
What Candace couldn't fix, and he wasn't going to discuss, were the mental wounds suffered from watching every man in Marius' group die. Including his oldest and dearest friend. Not to mention the knowledge that he'd killed a fair number of those men himself. Possibly even Marius.
Rage flowed through Alarick. Damn Marius for not leaving an escape route. Damn him for not being willing to even try to escape. Damn him for wanting to join Elissa's crazy book crusade in the first place. And damn him most of all for being such a good friend that his death tore Alarick's heart to shreds.
After Candace left him alone, he threw his good arm up over his face and tried to sleep. He couldn't shut out the horrors of the last days, though, and gave it up as a bad job and stared at the ceiling, instead. Every other thought was of something he could or should have done differently. Better. It wasn't enough to know they had been outmanned and outgunned. There should have been something he could have done to change the outcome. It was impossible to accept that some battles were simply lost before they began. Even more impossible to accept that Marius had been willing to lose.
Of course, Alarick understood that feeling to a point. He'd been in the position of having nothing left to lose often enough. Marius was a broken man and the men who fought with him were broken, as well. The only thing any of them cared about was damaging the Ministry and repaying the debt owed to lost children, wives, friends, and family. Their own lives were worth nothing. Alarick would have begged to differ, would have argued that they were valuable to each other, but Marius would never hear of it.
That was why Marius had demanded his men fight every battle until they either won or died. There was no, "Live to fight another day." Every day was the last day. Every skirmish Marius ever fought was bound by the same rules. That today had been the day he'd run into a force larger than he could defeat was more a matter of the odds simply running out than any conscious plan to die. Marius had known it was coming, though, and he faced it head on. Alarick had to respect that at least. But damn him for leaving. Damn him for escaping this horrible world and leaving Alarick to labor on.
Candace must have fetched Elissa because she appeared at his bedside within a couple of hours.
"I'm so glad you're alive," she said as she entered the infirmary. She sounded very far away to Alarick's ears, but he was glad to hear her voice. Thrilled to hear her joy in his return.
"I'd ask if you're okay," she said as she settled herself on a stool Candace set beside his bed, "But I don't expect you to admit if you're not. Candace told me the physical injuries aren't so bad. Do you want to tell me what happened?"
Alarick shook his head and then remembered she couldn't see him.
"Not really," he said.
"Can I at least ask if Marius is okay?"
He said nothing and put his arm up over his eyes again to hide the tears that pooled there, remembering belatedly again that it didn't matter. Not to her. Still, when he spoke the thickness of his voice betrayed him.
"He didn't make it," he said.
Alarick heard her gasp and then silence.
Finally, she choked out, "What happened?"
"The Ministry killed him. Killed them all. I couldn't stop it. There's little else to say."
He moved his arm away from his face, so he could look at her. She was crying, but doing a brave job of keeping it quiet, tears tracking silently down her cheeks.
Finally, she took a deep, shuddering breath and said, "I'm so sorry. I know what he meant to you."
Alarick sighed. "I'll miss him." It was a gross understatement.
"When you're well we can have a memorial service for him, if you'd like," Elissa offered. "I'm sure many here remember him and would like to honor his memory. I'll handle it."
"That would be appropriate, I think," Alarick said. "Thank you."
"I can't help but feel like this is my fault," Elissa said.
"Never," Alarick said quickly, hoping the quick denial made it true. "Marius made his own choices. I take comfort in that. If nothing else, he died on his own terms."
"Still. If I had worked faster, been better, more able, we could have finished before the Ministry returned. Or if I hadn't wanted to save so many books. We were one day short. One day sooner, and Marius would be alive."
Alarick sighed. She wasn't saying anything he hadn't already thought in his lesser moments. Had they just been faster. Had she not needed so much help. Had there been twenty fewer books. If, if, if. Hers was no different than the guilt he carried. Had he been a better wizard. Had he insisted Marius run for it. The guilt would live with him forever. And now he knew she felt it, too. He'd do anything to remove that burden from her, or at least carry it for her, but he knew there was nothing to be done for it except let time lighten the load.
They sat in silence for a few moments, each remembering their friend, both feeling useless guilt that couldn't save him.
"Do you want me to stay with you or would you rather I go?" she finally asked.
"Stay," he whispered, reaching for her hand. Selfishly he wanted her comfort, but he also thought they might be the only two people who could save each other now.
"Of course."
Alarick didn't remember falling asleep. All he remembered was lying there through the afternoon and into the gathering darkness. Elissa never left him, and they never spoke. They simply held hands in the silence, holding on to each other, steadying one another against the cataclysm that threatened to swamp them both.
All he knew was that when he woke it was dark in the infirmary, and Elissa was curled up in bed next to him. She was on top of the covers and so close to the edge of the narrow bed he was amazed she hadn't fallen off. Somewhere in the night she must have gotten tired and with no one to escort her to her room, simply laid down next to him.
At first, he wanted to wake her, but what would be the point? He didn't trust his unsteady legs to guide her back to her room and the healers had left them for the night. Instead he let her sleep and marveled at the fact that there was a woman in his bed. Maybe it was only because she had no choice. It was the bed or the floor, after all. Or, just maybe, it was because she cared enough to lie down with him and trusted him enough to do so.
That thought was humbling. Elissa shifted in her sleep and cried out. Since he couldn't roll onto his side without hurting his arm, he levered himself up in bed a bit, pulling the pillow up behind his back. Using his good arm, he pulled her closer so that she was resting tightly against his side. Alarick thought she'd wake at the movement, but she was a sound sleeper. He stroked her hair and after one more moan, she relaxed into his embrace and fell into a deeper sleep, nightmare banished.
"Thank you, Marius," he whispered into the darkness as he continued softly stroking her hair. "I'll try not to blow it."
For a moment he thought he heard a familiar laugh, but he was sure it was just the winter wind rattling through the poorly sealed window casements. It had to be.
Alarick didn't go back to sleep. He simply spent the night watching Elissa and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now. Ideas flitted in and out of his brain, most of them too ephemeral to grasp. One, however, speared his consciousness and nearly had him waking Elissa in his excitement. He tamped down the excitement, however. It needed more thought. He needed to be certain. At least the thinking gave his brain something to do besides brood over his failure to save Marius.
Morning finally came, and Elissa woke when the sunlight streaming through the window hit her face. It didn't take her long to figure out where she was.
"Oh, no. I'm sorry," she said as she sat up and hastily retreated to the stool, smoothing her hair and dress. "I didn't mean to impose."
"It's fine," Alarick said. "You were tired, as was I."
"The healers will be in soon. I shouldn't be here."
"Where are you going to go? I can't take you to your room. They'll understand. Candace, especially."
"Still. It's not appropriate. You're Master Brandon."
"I am," he said dryly, wondering what in her mind made her think that had to do with anything. "The healers have seen far worse behavior from me, I assure you. They won't be scandalized."
"I just… I don't know," she stammered.
"It's fine," he said, chuckling now at how uncomfortable she was. Amazingly, she seemed to be more out of her depth than he.
She finally smiled, seeming to realize how silly she was being.
"Is it wrong to confess that I enjoyed sleeping with you?" he asked. "Even if all we did was sleep?"
"No. Not wrong at all," she said. "I'm only disappointed that I can't remember much of it."
"You are a deep sleeper," Alarick said.
They were spared from further awkwardness by Candace's arrival. She took in the scene and simply raised one eyebrow in Alarick's direction. He smiled at her and try as she might to resist, she smiled back.
"Candace? I need to freshen up," Elissa said before any questions could be asked. "Can you please take me to my room?"
"Sure. Are you okay for a few minutes more?" she asked Alarick. "Matthew should be right behind me."
"I'll be fine," he said.
To Elissa he said, "Please come back later. I had an idea in the night and I'd like to speak with you about it."
"Of course," she said, taking Candace's elbow and moving toward the door.
Alarick watched her go, feeling the darkness returning to his soul as she left him. It was as though someone had extinguished a light that kept the monsters at bay. With the light gone, the monsters roamed freely through his mind, tormenting him until Matthew showed up to help him with his morning ablutions.
The night had at least brought some healing. Alarick felt more human and managed to wolf down an enormous breakfast of ham and eggs. His arm pained him, but he'd certainly felt worse. The rest was minor aches and pains due to overexertion. He wanted to return to his rooms, but Matthew wouldn't hear of it.
"Not today," he said. "Maybe tomorrow. We'd like to keep an eye on you a bit longer, make certain you rest and stay warm. You spent a lot of time out in the cold. We don't want you getting sick."
Alarick sighed but relented. Long experience with healers had taught him that doing what they wanted was the only way around them. Arguing only made them dig in find new ways to torture him. Though it pained him, he lay back on the pillows and tried to be a model patient.
Elissa returned in the late afternoon looking much better.
"Sorry I'm so late," she said as she settled, not on the stool, but on the edge of his bed. She reached immediately for his hand and he didn't hesitate to take hers, entwining their fingers together on the blanket.
"I lost track of time in the library. Margaret did a fine job of organizing the books you brought back, but there were some still to be put away. She's teaching me her system, and I think I'm getting the hang of it. I may not be able to see the books, but now I know generally what each section of shelves contains. Thank you for the addition, by the way. She told me how you expanded the library."
"You're welcome. Never did I think we'd fill that library to capacity," he shook his head ruefully.
"Well, there's still plenty of room left in the addition," she said.
"That's what I wanted to speak to you about," Alarick began. "The idea I had in the night. I think I know how we can fill that remaining space, plus more."
Elissa leaned forward, excitement shining on her face. "How?"
"What would you say if I offered to take you to visit some of my friends around the world? We can gather up any books they'd like to contribute to our library or copy any documents they want preserved but aren't willing to give up. At the very least, we can protect their books within their own libraries so the Ministry cannot read or destroy them. Would you want to go?"
"I'd love it! It's a magnificent idea. But you want me to go? I thought it was too dangerous for us to move about. What about the Ministry? What about my blindness?"
"The travel problem is solved by peregrination. Now that I can do it, we can travel undetected and get out before trouble arises. It's not nearly as dangerous as it would be to travel overland or in my falcon form. And we know I can transport books and people, so travel is no trouble.
"This was why I worked so hard to learn to peregrinate," he admitted. "When Margaret told me about it, I knew I could give you the libraries of the world if I could master such a skill."
"You did that for me?" Elissa asked.
"Yes. Of course it has other uses, as well. But I immediately thought of you when Margaret brought it up."
"Thank you," she said, squeezing his hand. "For thinking of me. It means everything that you would give me this."
"As for your blindness," Alarick continued, covering his embarrassment at her kind words. "We can work around that. You proved in Orange that your blindness is little more than an inconvenience. I can help you with the things you cannot do on your own, and my friends have others in their camps who would likely help, as well, just as Marius' men did. Once they embrace what you're trying to do, I think you'll have more helpers than you need."
"Do you really think they'll be interested in contributing books to our cause? Or at least having their own books protected?" she asked.
"When I met you months ago, I would have said no. I would have said they thought as I did — that books are too small a matter with which to be concerned in the face of our imminent destruction."
"And now?"
"You, Marius, and even Margaret showed me that preserving our knowledge is important. Especially in the face of our destruction. It's becoming clearer every day that there is no way for us to survive the Ministry's purge, at least not in numbers sufficient enough to matter. But someday, any of us who escape may need the knowledge we're protecting. What you can do is amazing, and it would be criminal to waste your talent simply because I am stubborn and afraid.
"Marius showed me that I'm only living half a life here at the Keep. I'm hiding and it's cowardly. Yes, providing shelter for magical people is important, but there are others who can keep things going here day to day. My constant presence isn't necessary. The greater cause, the one worth fighting and dying for, lies with you and your books. It would be some comfort on my deathbed to know I gave something to the future."
"You believe there are others who can be convinced, as you and Marius were?"
"Knowing my friends as I do, I would bet there are many who will need no convincing at all. Most of them are far more intelligent than I am. They'll see the value in you and your cause immediately. They won't have to be dragged along, as I was."
Elissa laughed.
"Well, then, if you're certain. We'll go after Marius' memorial service."
"I am certain," he said. "It may get us killed, but if you're willing to take the risk, then I'm willing to take it with you."
"There's no one I'd rather die with," she said, as she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. "No one."
He reached up with his good arm and hugged her to him. She snuggled on his chest for a few minutes before sitting up again.
"Marius would be proud of you," she said.
"I hope so," Alarick said. "I never thought of myself as a coward, but after seeing him give his life so that others might have a future, I realize that I am, indeed, a coward."
"No, you're not," Elissa said. "Everyone has different ways of contributing. Running headlong toward death isn't necessarily the best way to show bravery."
"No. But sitting here while others actually do something feels wrong. Helping you is something I can do. Every book we save is a battle we can win. That feels better than hiding here."
What Alarick didn't add was that his motives for this quest were not purely noble. He did want to preserve books and knowledge, and he did believe in Elissa's mission. But he also knew that taking her to visit his friends would serve one selfish purpose: It would keep them together for a while longer.
Ever since the thought had occurred to him in Orange that he would lose her once they returned to routine, he'd sought a way to prevent it. Late in the night, when this idea appeared in his brain, he knew immediately it was the answer. It was almost as if someone were looking out for him.
Alarick didn't believe in ghosts, but if he did, he would have sworn that Marius was doing his damnedest to keep the relationship he'd planted growing. And if that were the case, Alarick would be nothing but grateful.
As promised, Alarick was rewarded for his good behavior and released from the infirmary the next day. Two days later, the castle's inhabitants held the memorial service for Marius.
Fittingly, the day was cold and damp with alternating snow and rain. Everyone gathered in the dining hall where the tables had been pushed out of the way and the benches arranged like pews in a church. All the residents attended, even those who hadn't known Marius well, or at all.
Word of his exploits had made the rounds over the years, and he was a folk hero to many. A mysterious, courageous man who, in the most greatly exaggerated tales, took on the Ministry single-handed and won every battle. Others knew the real man. They knew the ferocity of his friendship and the depth of his kindness and love. They knew his brash exterior hid a soul who would do anything for those he loved and punish anyone who did them wrong. Even those who'd barely heard his name respected him as a former member of the Keep.
Alarick remembered little of the day, but what he did remember was beautiful and fitting for his friend. An a cappella group sang a Welsh hymn in honor of Marius' Welsh heritage, which came through his mother's lineage. Alarick didn't know the hymn and, as he knew little Welsh, was unable to understand much of it. It was lovely, however.
There were readings from people who had known Marius when he lived at the Keep. Friends from the village where he'd lived with his wife for so short a time sang a few songs. They sounded like pub songs to Alarick, and their raucousness suited Marius.
Alarick escorted Elissa to the lectern where she recited Shakespeare's sonnet number seventy-three. It was about love and death. The last line, "To love that well which thou must leave ere long" brought tears to his eyes. Once he'd seen her safely back to her seat, he returned to the lectern to give the eulogy.
The night before the service, he'd tried to write something eloquent, something fitting for his friend. Words that would showcase Marius' bravery, intelligence, and kindness to all who knew him. But words failed Alarick. Words were inadequate to describe the man, or the loss. Try as he might, he couldn't come up with anything fitting. He'd given up and gone to bed, hopeful that something would come to him this morning. It hadn't.
As he stood at the lectern, gripping it so hard that his knuckles turned white and stood in stark contrast to the edges of his black sleeves, he cast his eyes skyward and sought help from the one person who could give it.
"Give me the words, Marius," he thought.
After a pause, he began to speak.
"Last night, I thought of all the truths I could utter about Marius today," he said. "That he was brave, fearless, open-hearted, optimistic, kind, a mentor, a trusted friend, and a believer in justice. And all of that is true.
"But it's also not enough to convey the extraordinary character of the man I called my friend. Most of us are these things. They do not mark us as special; merely human."
Alarick took a deep breath and looked out at the assembled group.
"What made Marius special was that he let others know how he cared about them. He had every reason to keep his feelings locked deep inside, every reason to withdraw from the world and hide himself. But he didn't. Instead, he actively engaged with the world. He sought out people who were broken, as he was, and somehow made them, if not whole, at least better.
"That does not come easily. It is a gift to be able to relate to so many different people. Marius could empathize with a powerful wizard as easily as he could a small child. People who had known loss were his friends, but so were people who still had the things he had lost.
"He harbored no jealousy over the good fortune of others, wasted no time asking why he was singled out to experience a personal hell so deep it seemed to have no escape. His gift was an ability to look at you and let you know that he felt whatever emotion you were feeling and neither pitied nor hated you for it. Marius Baines had a very clear view of the world and the people in it and he never spared anyone his viewpoint.
"He saw no point in holding back. He knew that time is always short and holding back only leaves room for regret, something for which he had neither time nor patience. He frequently called me a jackass and deservedly so, because I was usually dithering over something which was crystal clear to him."
Alarick laughed, remembering exactly how often Marius had called him a jackass recently while he fretted over Elissa.
"But he also called me friend and brother. Marius was my dearest friend, and it was because of his unique gift. When other people turned away from me, he looked at me, a boy who did many things wrong, and saw that I was not merely the sum of my poorly chosen actions. He saw beyond my failings, to the man I could be. Should be. And he never stopped pushing me to match his vision. Even in the last weeks of his life, he was still pushing me to become the man he saw when he looked at me. And still calling me jackass because I was courting regret by not expressing my feelings to the people who most needed to hear them."
Tears pooled in his eyes now, but he blinked them back. This was not the time. He owed Marius strength, not weakness.
"And he was right. Time is indeed short. I did not tell him what he meant to me. I did not properly thank him for pushing me to be something other than a jackass. I'll live with that until my dying day.
"I could say that I will live differently from now on, that I will honor him by becoming the man he saw, that I will never again suffer regret because I failed to show others how much I care. But we all know things aren't so simple. Even Marius knew that. The best intentions are often pushed aside by the negligence of normal life. All I can promise is to try. And I would ask all of you gathered here today to try to live up to Marius' version of yourself. Even if we never attain his lofty standards, perhaps our efforts will make him proud."
Alarick left the lectern and resumed his seat next to Elissa. The room was silent for a moment, and then applause rang through the hall. It lasted for what seemed like hours, even though it was mere minutes.
When it finally quieted, the singers returned to the front of the hall and sang another hymn. This one Alarick recognized. Marius had told him once it was his wife's favorite. Alarick wasn't deeply religious. It was difficult to reconcile a kind, benevolent god with the dogmatic, vengeful, bigoted god espoused by the Ministry, after all. But he hoped that wherever Marius was now, he was with his wife and daughter.
The service mercifully ended and Alarick joined the others at lunch rather than retreating to his rooms as he so desperately wanted. He sat at a table with Elissa and Candace and her husband, but he couldn't pay attention to the conversation. Neither could he eat much, having little appetite.
When the hall finally began to empty, and the residents went back to their work, Alarick took Elissa by the arm and led her back to the library.
"That was a wonderful eulogy," she said once they were inside and he had her seated on one of the sofas.
"I was terrified," he admitted. "It's difficult to capture the essence of a person in a few sentences. I tried to prepare beforehand, but it all seemed wrong. I was improvising up there."
"Well, it went well," Elissa said. "I think you expressed your feelings perfectly and helped others understand what Marius meant to them, as well."
Alarick sat down on the low table in front of her and took her hands in his.
"Marius was right about me being a jackass," he said.
"I know. I mean, not that you are a jackass, but I know what he saw in you. It's the same thing I see. I see someone with enormous potential, if only you'll let yourself go. You hold yourself so tightly, yet if you let go just a tiny bit, I think you could be a real force in this world."
Alarick took a deep breath.
"It starts now," he whispered.
"What?"
"I love you, Elissa," he said. "I have for a while now. I kept thinking I could stop it, conquer it somehow, but I cannot. And for the first time in decades, I do not want to. I understand if you do not feel the same. I've certainly given you little reason to love me—" he trailed off when she pulled her hands from his.
Instead of slapping him, however, or moving away, she leaned forward and placed her hands on his cheeks, smoothing her fingers over his features in her version of looking at him. Really looking at him.
"You gave me my life back, Alarick Brandon. That alone is reason enough for me to have fallen in love with you. But it happened long before that. I love you, too. And I understand what a monumental gift you've just given me; what you've entrusted me with. You've given me a heart that has been broken once and is barely whole even now. You've put this fragile thing into my care. I want you to know," she whispered, "That I am honored and hope to be worthy of the gift."
"Oh, Elissa, you already are," he said as he leaned forward to hold her face in his hands.
Her lips sought his and this time he didn't hesitate. He let himself fall, let himself melt into the wonder of her. Alarick caressed her face and moved his hands down to rub her arms. When he pulled her to him, she eased into his embrace, fitting her body to his as though they were a matched pair.
Alarick abandoned himself to her, burying the horrors of the past days in the sweet scent of her hair and the soft fullness of her lips against his. When he brushed her hair back and moved to kiss her neck, she tilted her head, giving him her full trust. She wound her hands in his hair and clutched him to her. He moved to sit next to her on the sofa and, without breaking contact, shifted her so that she sat on his lap. Keeping one arm around her, he flicked his wand in the direction of the fireplace, lighting it and casting a soft glow around them.
They stayed like that for hours, alternately kissing, talking about everything and nothing, and laughing over shared silliness as the long day wound to a close. Alarick would have stayed with her like that forever, letting her presence mend the holes in his soul, but life moved on, as it always does.
"I thought we'd leave day after tomorrow," he finally said, bringing them to their plans for their next adventure.
"That's fine," Elissa said. "Where will we go first?"
"I thought we'd start somewhere warm and sunny. Or at least warmer than here. I've written to a friend in Marrakesh. His name is Adil Talb and he's happy to have us visit. Most of his books are in Arabic, but he says several scholars have already volunteered to translate. He'd prefer to keep most of his books, but we're welcome to copy anything we'd like to add to our library."
"Does he have many books?" Elissa asked.
Alarick shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't visited him in years. We only correspond through letters. The last time I visited was with Master Hale. I must have been twelve or so. Then, Adil had a library about half the size of ours. Before the addition," he clarified. "But now? It could be much larger, or smaller if they've been raided by the Ministry. We'll do what we can."
"You know, I kind of wish we could spend days here, just like this," she said, dropping her head to his shoulder and nuzzling his neck.
He chuckled. "I know. It feels like we've reached this glorious place where we're comfortable with each other, and now we must give it up."
"Not give it up," she said. "Never give it up. We're just relocating it."
Alarick laughed long and loud, the sound echoing around the library and, for a moment, he was surprised the noise had come from him.