Page 390 of Of Empires and Dust

A deep voice called out behind him. “Master Pimm.”

Dann’s skin prickled at the sound of Erdhardt Hammersmith’s voice. He spun on his heels. The man was covered in blood and what looked to be small flecks of Urak flesh, and he carried a monstrous, spiked hammer, his massive fingers choking it around the neck. Somehow Erdhardt looked even larger than he once had. He was leaner, but his muscles were dense and strong. Dann would have paid good coin to see who would come out victorious in a brawl between Erdhardt, Tarmon, and Haem.

To Dann’s surprise, Erdhardt stepped forwards and wrapped an enormous hand around Dann’s forearm and stared into his eyes. The man had never greeted Dann that way. “You’ve grown up, Dann Pimm.”

“So have you,” Dann said, puffing out his cheeks. “What are they feeding you?”

Erdhardt cracked a broken smile. “It’s good to see you, Dann.” He looked at Dann as though he were appraising a new leather coat, his smile rising just a touch more at the edges. “It’s good to see the man you’ve become. A man of The Glade.”

Dann gave a soft nod. “I saw it… what’s left of it.”

“We are what’s left of it.” Erdhardt let go of Dann’s forearm and slung his blood-coated hammer into the loop on his back. There was a pensive look on the man’s face that Dann couldn’t quite decipher. “How is Calen?”

“How long do you have?” Dann asked with a laugh.

“All the time in the world.”

“He’s alive. As is Ella.”

“Ella?” Erdhardt’s eyes widened. “After the soldiers killed Vars and Freis… and we didn’t see her or Rhett, we just… We… we assumed the worst. Virandr told us that Rist was taken, but he said nothing of Ella.”

“She’s alive.” Dann didn’t feel the need to elaborate on the fact that Ella was alive but hadn’t opened her eyes since the battle at Aravell. “With any luck, Calen will be here soon and you can talk to him yourself. Erdhardt, my mam and dad, have you seen them? I lost my dad in the fighting.”

Erdhardt’s expression grew grim, and fear raked its claws across Dann’s heart.

“What’s wrong? Erdhardt? Please…”

Dann foundhis dad standing at the edge of the docks, looking out over the water. Tharn’s arms hung at his side, his shoulders drooped, the wind blowing at his loose clothes. Dann stopped a few paces behind him, his fragile heart trembling. He felt as though he was coming apart at the seams, his stomach churning and throat tight as a knot. “Dad?”

Tharn turned at the sound of his son’s voice. His eyes were raw and red, tears glistening on his cheeks. He held out his arms. “Dann.”

Without hesitation, Dann wrapped his arms around the man who had raised him, the man who had taught him what it was to be a man, what it was to be good and true. “I’m here, Dad.”

At those three words, Tharn burst into tears. His dad squeezed him so tight Dann thought his eyes might pop out of his head.

“It’s all right,” Dann whispered. He tried his best to keep his voice from breaking. “She can rest now.”

“I miss her already,” Tharn sobbed, his wet nose burying into Dann’s neck. “I miss her, Dann. She wasn’t even fighting. She was meant to be safe in the hall…”

“I miss her too…” Dann pulled his dad in close and lifted his chin so it rested on the top of Tharn’s head. He drew a long breath through his nose, tears rolling down his cheeks. All hewanted to do was break down and weep. But he couldn’t. He needed to stay strong for his dad. Tharn had always been the strong one, always pushed Dann to be better. It was his turn to be the one taken care of.

They stood there on the docks for a long time. Dann didn’t know how long, and he didn’t care. He held his dad, and he saw his mam’s face in his mind.

She was a sweet, kind, and – at times – fierce woman. And now she was gone, and he would never get to say goodbye. That’s what hurt the most. He’d been away for so long. He’d seen so much of the world, so much death and horror and darkness. And he never got the chance to thank his mam for keeping him from all that, for allowing him the opportunity to live a life surrounded by love and light and laughter. And he’d never got to tell her about Camylin, or Midhaven, or Aravell, or Durakdur, or about all the beautiful things he’d seen. He’d never got to tell her about Lyrei.

Tharn may have taught Dann a lot of things, but Ylinda had taught him how to be kind and how to find the light in the dark. But he’d never told her that, never told her how thankful he was for everything she had given him.

By the time Lyrei found them standing on the docks, the warm golden light of the sun was starting to spill over the eastern horizon. Dann’s heart had grown numb, a dark emptiness in his chest, and he shivered from the cold.

The pair of them walked Tharn back to the place he now called home: a wooden house near the dock with a small, covered porch and a slate roof.

“Jorvill lives right there.” Tharn pointed to another house only a few paces away. Jorvill was dead now too. Dann had seen his body. He wasn’t ready to find out who else they’d lost.

Dann helped his father remove his boots and leather armour. He took Tharn’s shirt and trousers and planted a gentle kiss on his father’s head.

Lyrei waited for him on the porch, her sword belt and bow set to the side, her knees pulled tight to her chest.

His muscles aching, Dann lowered himself to the step beside her. They sat there for a while, the rising sun slowly illuminating the corpse-filled streets of Salme. Lyrei rested her hand on Dann’s leg and squeezed.

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