Epilogue

Danika strolled through the marketplace, a basket over one arm. Her other arm swung easily at her side. She had recently turned thirteen, now officially a teenager, and she was feeling very mature and accomplished. Her mother had given her a list of items to buy and she had gotten everything. She was now starting to make her way home, her mission accomplished.

A small figure darted in front of her, then stopped. A little boy, just barely two, as Danika recalled, looked up at her then at her basket with curiosity.

"Patrick!" Danika greeted him. She took a quick look around, but the toddler appeared to be unaccompanied. She knew that he was in no great danger, but that wasn't the point. She turned back to the little boy. "Where's your mama?"

Patrick blinked up at her for a moment then turned his attention back to the basket. Quickly sizing up the situation—being the older sibling of a mischievous little brother—Danika set the basket on the ground and reached into one of the bundles. "Would you like an apricot?"

Patrick nodded enthusiastically and held out his hand.

"Say please," Danika reminded him gently.

Patrick thought for a moment, then said, "Peeeez!"

Fairly impressed, Danika took an apricot from one of the bundles. Mindful of what ought and ought not to be given to a toddler, she split the soft flesh of the apricot apart and pulled out the pit, dropping it into the basket. Ideally, she would have washed it first, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She then handed one of the halves to Patrick, who snatched it from her. He was just about to shove the whole thing into his mouth when Danika spoke up quickly.

"No, no! Not like that!"

Patrick looked at her, a little resentfully. Danika smiled at him and said, "Just take a bite, like this." She bit into the other half of the apricot and tore off a small piece. "See?" she said around her mouthful.

Patrick contemplated the apricot in his hand doubtfully, but he gave it a try and bit into his half.

"That's right!" Danika exclaimed.

The little boy grinned at her, juice running down his chin.

"Now," Danika announced, picking up her basket. "Let's go find your mama." She held out her hand and spoke one of the many mantras her parents used. "Give me your hand."

Content for the moment, Patrick took Danika's hand and she held onto it firmly. After a moment of consideration, it occurred to her that it was probably not the boy's mother that she should be looking for because she probably wouldn't have let him get away. With a vaguely uncomfortable twist in her stomach, she started looking for Patrick's father.

It didn't take long. From the time it took to walk from the fruit seller to Zhaarana Nenya's, she caught sight of him up ahead, weaving and bobbing through the marketplace crowd in a frantic search. He actually looked a little scared. Danika couldn't quite bring herself to feel sorry for him, but she couldn't quite feel irritated, either. With her basket in one hand and Patrick in the other, she couldn't wave.

"Zhaarad Stanno!" she called out.

It was almost funny the way his head whipped around from side to side. Danika sighed. She wasn't very tall and he was looking too high. "Down here!"

After another moment of fruitless searching, Zhaarad Stanno's eyes finally fell on her, then on Patrick. He slumped with relief and jogged over to them.

Patrick let out an excited shriek and made to dart away again, enjoying his game, but Danika kept a firm hold on his hand. She didn't let go until Zhaarad Stanno scooped Patrick up in his arms.

"There you are, you little devil!" the carpenter exclaimed, kissing the boy on the cheek. Patrick giggled and struggled, but Stanno held him tightly. He looked down at Danika.

"Thank you!" he said breathlessly. "Thank you so much! Rose would've killed me!"

Now, that was a gross exaggeration and Danika took exception to it. "No, she wouldn't," she replied firmly but politely. "Zhaarana Rose is too nice to do that."

Zhaarad Stanno nodded, a little sheepishly. "No, of course not. I just didn't want to…well..."

He was probably going to say disappoint her but Danika generously let it go. "And besides," she added, "if it wasn't me, somebody else would've caught him for you."

Zhaarad Stanno considered the girl for a moment, as though just realizing who she was. Danika met his regard solemnly. She really had to give the man some credit. Back when they first came to Ishval, he had done and said some very cruel things to Mama and to her. But he had stopped all that. Mama treated him like any of their other friends. Papa didn't growl so much anymore when he talked about him. Danika wasn't sure when she first noticed the difference, but she figured it must have been when Zhaarana Rose, who she liked very much, came to Ishval. She ended up staying especially to marry Zhaarad Stanno. Yes, that's when it really started.

"You're a smart little girl, Danika," Stanno told her.

That was a rather nice thing to say, even though Danika didn't consider herself little anymore. She was thirteen, after all. But she conceded the point. She had been taught to accept compliments graciously but to not let them go to her head. She gave a little shrug. "I like to help people," she replied.

Stanno's mouth quirked in a wry little smile. "Even me?"

That made Danika pause. She had the feeling that those two little words were saying a lot more than just those two little words. What she said back could be very important so she had to think about it very carefully. Really, though, the choice was clear.

She gave him a really nice smile. "Sure!" she replied, as though he didn't even have to ask.

She really liked the smile that he gave her back.

Patrick got treated to a ride on his father's shoulders. He started kicking his feet, which hurt a little, but Stanno didn't mind much. He was feeling strangely elated after his encounter with Danika. Now that he had a child of his own, other children were coming into sharper focus. Their opinions actually mattered now. He certainly hoped that his son would form a good opinion of him.

As much as the house of Dreva was crying out for an heir, Stanno was secretly terrified of the idea, so much so that he finally shared his secret with Rose. She commiserated with him, admitting that she was nervous, too, which made him feel much less isolated. Then she told him that Ishval seemed like a pretty good place to raise kids because the community was so closely knit and there would always be someone to offer help or go to for advice. Stanno had never actually realized that. He thought his fellow Ishvalans were just nosy.

When Patrick came along, it was as if their home was invaded. He wasn't even sure he knew some of these people. Nenya came and bossed everyone around. The woman from the tea shop came and made disgusting goo-goo noises at the baby. Rada came as a blessed relief. She brought all kinds of things she knew they would need and gave the most sensible advice. Best of all, she managed to get rid of all the other nosy, overly-curious women, and she managed to do it without offending anyone.

While Rada sat with Rose and the baby, Stanno trudged downstairs for a much needed drink, but realized that there was nothing to be had, not even a bottle of beer. He was about to just sit at the table for a brief sulk, when there was yet another knock at the door. Stanno buried his face in his hands. One more meddlesome, prying old woman…

But it was male voices he heard. Curious, he got up and opened the back door. Standing there were Andakar, Dejan, and Miles, and they had brought a bottle of halmi. Never in his life had he ever been so glad to see these men. They came in and raised a glass to Ishval's newest father. Even Miles made no sarcastic comments. He led them upstairs to see his brand new son, and they were all gratifyingly impressed. Of course they wanted to hold him. They started sharing stories of their own children. Then they started giving advice. They were nearly as bad as the women. But then Rose caught his eye with an amused smile, which he couldn't help but return.

It was then that it finally struck him. He had lived most of his life in Ishval but never really felt a part of it. Until now.

Now his little son and heir was a terrible two-year-old, and Stanno adored him. As much as he loved everything about Rose, from her creamy ivory skin to her luminous violet eyes to the pink locks of her hair, he was relieved that his firstborn son, the long-awaited heir to the noble house of Dreva, had pure Ishvalan features. He was happy enough to make other concessions, letting Rose decide on their son's name. It took a little getting used to at first, but he managed.

He was so very proud of his little boy, something he knew he had to be careful of. His father had been proud of him, too. He was proud of his son's talent, which exceeded his own and which he viewed as an extension of himself. His was a pride of possession, of acquisition. These were the values he had instilled in his son, and the last thing Stanno wanted to do was pass that on. He would teach Patrick their craft, from acorn to table, and he would watch him make beautiful things, and he would be proud, but not on his own account.

But sweet Ishvala, the boy was an imp! He would dart away at any opportunity, and those little legs of his could move pretty fast! To Patrick, it was just a game. To Stanno, it was the stuff of nightmares. He literally had bad dreams of Patrick running off and they would never find him. Rada assured him that Mattas was much the same way, and was finally starting to grow out of it. She then admitted that he was now obsessed with tree climbing and she joked that she expected any day to have to take him to Dr. Marcoh with a broken arm. Stanno didn't think that was anything to joke about.

But for now, Patrick was safely perched on his shoulder. When they got back to the hotel, Stanno ducked as he went through the front door so Patrick wouldn't bump his head. Yaza, one of the new girls, came bustling in from the kitchen, heading for the dining room with a tray of tea and honey pastries. Laughter came from the dining room. Their current guests were the Shua's in-laws, the Armstrongs. They also had a few of university professors who had come to scout the site of Old Ishval with an eye to digging it up. The place was actually starting to turn a profit.

Stanno nearly collided with Yasira, the other girl, who was carrying a bundle of bed linens.

"'Scuse me, Zhaarad!" she sang out as she swerved around him.

Stanno sighed. They were smart, efficient girls, but he missed Pashmina, who was getting ready to have a baby. He would have to finish up the cradle he was making for her and Atash and get it over to Nenya's.

He made his way behind the front desk and into the office. Atash no longer slept there, having moved in with Pashmina's family when they got married, and Rose had fixed it up and kept it neatly organized. At the moment, she was finishing up the account books for the end of the month. Stanno had taken Patrick to the marketplace so Rose could work in peace. She looked up and smiled at them as they came in.

"There are my boys!" she said, swiveling the office chair around and holding out her arms.

Stanno lifted Patrick off his shoulders and deposited him into his mother's lap. Then he bent down and gave her a kiss. He nodded toward the ledgers. "How's it going?"

"Just fine!" Rose replied. "I'm just about finished. How about you? Any adventures?" she asked archly.

"Well, yes," Stanno admitted, pulling up a stool to sit beside her. "He got away from me once, but Danika managed to snag him."

"Oh, that was nice!"

"Yes it was," Stanno said with a nod and a smile. "She's a nice kid."

Rose tilted her head a little. "Did you tell her that?"

"Pretty much. I told her she was smart. And yes," he added, "I did say thank you."

Rose patted his cheek. "That's my boy!"

Stanno grabbed her hand and planted a kiss on her palm. "Let's go over to the Jasmine for dinner!"

Rose sighed wistfully. The restaurant had become a sentimental favorite of theirs. "Oh, I don't know. The last time we took Patrick was kind of a…an incident."

"Then we'll drop him off at Nenya's," Stanno declared. "You know how she likes to fuss over him." He looked at Patrick. "How about it, lahaat? Want to go see Auntie Pashmina and Baata Nenya?"

Patrick considered this for a few moments, then said, "Go, Mama!"

Rose laughed. "Okay, but just for a little bit." To Stanno, she said, "You might want to move back a little."

She held on tightly to her little boy and gave a push with her feet, spinning the chair around. Patrick let out a peal of laughter. While they were occupied with this, Atash tapped on the doorframe to announce his arrival. When Patrick caught sight of him, he let out a cry.

"'Top, Mama! 'Top!"

Rose stilled the chair and let Patrick slide off her lap so he could run to Atash. The young man swung the little boy into the air.

"There's our little devil!" he cried. "Up to no good, are you?"

"Atash, would Nenya mind watching him tonight?" Stanno asked.

Atash looked from him to Rose and chuckled. "Looking for a bit of time to yourselves, are you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Stanno replied, a little tersely. "That's something you and Pashmina will come to miss quite soon."

"I know, I know!" Atash held onto Patrick tightly as the little boy seemed intent to slide down his back head first. "That's what Auntie Nenya's for! Sure, she and Pashmina'll watch this one. And good luck to them. Come on, Patrick! Come and help me water the garden!"

Atash swung around with a giggling Patrick hanging off his shoulder and left the office. Stanno turned back to Rose and, with a smile and tilt of his head, beckoned her closer. Smiling back, she got up and sat in his lap. Holding her tightly, he kissed her for several long, blissful, uninterrupted moments.

"So, the Jasmine it is, then?" Stanno said as their lips finally parted.

"That sounds wonderful!" Rose sighed. She dimpled. "We can celebrate!"

Stanno looked at her curiously for a moment. Then the light dawned and he gave a start and looked down at Rose's stomach. Looking back at her, he placed his hand gently on her belly. "You went to see Marcoh today!" he recalled.

Rose nodded. "Mm-hmm! I'm already a couple of months along."

The last time she told him that, he was terrified. But the things he had feared never happened, replaced by worries he never considered. But he had overcome them. Was he not of the noble house of Dreva? Was he not a master of his craft? Did he not have the loveliest girl in Ishval for his bride? Stanno laughed and held her tightly. "Ah, my Rosie-laleh! I hope it's a girl and I hope she has your hair!"