Jon found the rest of the summer to be glorious if uneventful.  Professor Sheridan had been nauseated, Hellin told them, seeing the mess in the passage, and even sicker at the sight of all the smashed artifacts in the burial chamber.  Once he settled down to cataloguing and documenting, however, he was much happier.  Djaren and Jon helped with translations and Anna with sketches and photographs, and work progressed quickly at the site.  One day, not long before the end of Tam and Jon’s time in Alarna, it came time to open the clay sarcophagus and see how the Ancients and the Sharnish peoples had buried the warrior.  They stood gathered about the sarcophagus in hushed silence, as Harl and Doctor Blackfeather carefully lifted the lid.  Anna held up a lantern to reveal the inside.  Funeral wrappings lay bundled in an otherwise empty case. There was no sign at all of the warrior.

            “I thought not,” Doctor Blackfeather said softly.  “He joined the Ascendant.”

            The Professor spoke a blessing and touched the grave clothes.  They crumbled under his light touch.

            “They haven’t been here for well over two thousand years, Eabrey,” Doctor Blackfeather said, going to his side.  The Professor looked pained.  “I know,” he whispered.  “I just hoped that perhaps they had left a sign.  Something.”

            “They did,” Jon said, lifting his hand.  The Professor took the offered hand and stood, looking again at the silvery emblem.

            “And they passed it to you,” the Professor said, with a sad smile.

            “What kind of sign are you looking for?” Jon asked, watching the Professor’s blue eyes intently.

            “One of life,” he said, wistfully.  “Come along.  We have work to do.”

            The Times came the next day, as they sat waiting for the train that would take the Gardner brothers home.  The children sat gathered round Anna as she finished the serialized story aloud. 

            Djaren held out his hand and Tam grudgingly set a coin in it.  “Three more faints.  I was right.” Djaren grinned.  “And she didn’t die, Ellea.”

            Anna made a face at them.  “She accepted Lord Ellerton’s proposal of marriage, and fell into his arms.  They’re going to live happily ever after.”

            “Until she dies in three months,” Ellea said.

            “Maybe she doesn’t.  Maybe now she’s done falling in and out of love with people and caring for her mad aunt and ailing father, she’ll steady out a bit and not feel the need to pitch over so often,” Tam said soothingly.

            Ellea shrugged.  “Less interesting.”

            “There’ll be a new story next month,” Djaren said.  “And a new dig next spring.”

            “I can’t wait,” Jon smiled.  “I have a lot of reading to do about Narmos.”

            “Hmm,” Hellin said.  “Narmos isn’t somewhere either I or your mother want you reading too much about.  Corin and Eabrey will be overseeing most of the digging, and we’ll be camped a bit further off.”

            “Are you saying Narmos isn’t safe?” Djaren asked, looking excited.

            “History is never entirely safe, love.  You’re old enough to know that.  In history we find ourselves, the demons we have overcome, and the things that make us as we are.”

            “I thought history was mostly meant to be boring,” Tam said.

            “That’s the common misperception,” Hellin smiled.  “Here’s your train coming.”

            “Where’s Doctor Blackfeather?” Tam asked, looking around.  “I thought he said he might be traveling with us.”

            Jon watched with a breathless smile as a winged form alighted on the top of the moving train, cloak and wings billowing in the hot wind.  “He will be.”

            Hellin put a hamper of sandwiches into Jon’s hands and smiled at him.  “You’ll be safe all the way back home.”

            “I’ll be going along as well,” the Professor smiled.  “I’ve got a book or two waiting for me at Merigvon.”

            “And next summer, we’ll be camped near the city of the Invincible Kings, whose power allegedly came to them from the elder gods of Narmos.  They were said to smite down their enemies with lightning and plagues, until the entire civilization was destroyed by natural disasters.  Only a few escaped its ruin and fled clear across the world, bringing their story with them.”

            “And you will not be digging at Narmos,” Hellin said.  “Your father will.”

            Djaren grinned at Jon and Tam. “We’re going to have an exciting time.  We’ll see you next spring.”

            “This might come in handy,” Ellea said, taking Jon’s hand in her own, and lifting it to see the sparkle of silver again.

            “It won’t have to,” Hellin said again.  “So don’t you worry, dear.  Here’s your passenger car now.”

            The Professor guided them up the steps and Tam carried the luggage.  Jon paused to look back at Anna and the waving Blackfeathers and grinned.  “Thank you.  For everything.”

            “Aye, it’s lovely you have a treasure of the Ancients,” Tam grumbled, pulling the cases up the steps, “But what’s Mum going to say?”

©2007 Ruth Lampi