Archibald smiled as Phoney entered the booth. He hadn't been in prison for a day, and he already had his first visitor. Phoney signaled to his guard to stand outside and sat down in the chair opposite Archibald. Only the thin glass pane separated them. There was no one else in the room for visiting hours, either. He'd probably arranged that on presidential authority.

"Frankly, Phoney, I'm a little hurt," Archibald said, leaning back in the chair. "I helped save the world, and as soon as I get back, this is the thanks I get?"

"Officially," Phoney said, placing a pile of papers on the table and sliding them through the slot in the glass "You are the last member of Glaian's army waiting to stand trial. You've been in hiding, but after the Norgabard fell, you turned yourself in. You're prepared to offer us your full cooperation in exchange for a lenient sentencing."

"I am?" Archibald asked. He picked up the papers and leafed through them. "Weird. That doesn't sound like me."

"Your alternative is a firing squad. What I'm offering you is a mercy compared to what you deserve."

"No doubt. I probably shouldn't have thrown my lot in with Glaian so publicly, huh?"

"You probably shouldn't have shot my cousin," Phoney said, placing a pen on the table. "You're lucky he's still alive, or else we'd be having a very different conversation right now."

"I figured rebuilding the ontological cannon has to count for something, too."

"Maybe. At this point, I'm too tired to deal with this anymore. In about a week, you're going to be someone else's responsibility, and I never have to think about you ever again."

"I'll miss you too," Archibald said. He picked up the pen and signed the papers. Phoney collected them and stood up.

"You're not even going to ask me what I'm going to do after I get out?" Archibald asked. Phoney didn't reply. "I've been thinking about writing a book about all of this. Someone deserves to know what happened, even if no one believes me."

"He was worried about you, at the end," Phoney said, stopping at the door. Archibald didn't have a reply. "We couldn't find you, so he thought you were dead."

"Being possessed burned out my Dreaming Eye, I think," Archibald replied. "It saved me. Glaian wasn't so lucky, I guess."

"He died fighting, for what it's worth. It's one of the reasons I haven't had you executed."

"Of course he did," Archibald replied. "He was always too stubborn for his own good."

"Goodbye, Archibald," Phoney said. He didn't wait for the man's reply.

"Well, boss," Nibet said, standing up as Phoney exited the room. She fell into step behind him as he left the penitentiary. "What now?"

"I've got a few more things to take care of before I resign," Phoney replied. "The Ythreni are furious that we're insisting the Valley was a propaganda effort Glaian staged to fuel the rebellion, and I've got to meet with the Foreign Minister and sort it out. What about you?"

"The FIC needs a new director. Satranik said she'd recommend me to whoever takes over for you. For better or worse, she and I are going to be seeing a lot more of each other over the next four years."

"And your sister?"

"X'lish and Faldr are getting out of the hospital soon, and we're all going out for drinks to celebrate. You're welcome to join us, too."

"I'd love to, but I'll have to pass. Give everyone my regards."

"Can do," she said, giving him a salute. She stopped at the exit to the roof, and he went on ahead. "It was an honor, sir."

"Cut the crap," he said, shaking his head.

"Is that an order, sir?"

"I'm retired, Nibet. I'm not giving orders anymore."

"Good. I was about sick of the formality anyway. Good luck, Phoney."

"You too," he said, stepping onto the helicopter. As it took him into the sky, he thought he could feel the hum of the trees beneath him. The breath of the world. He usually wasn't this poetic. But he couldn't shake the feeling that Fone was down there, somewhere, somehow.

"Fone," he muttered. "If you're out there, I'm coming for you. Just sit tight."

"Cuz!" Smiley shouted as Phoney's cart rolled up the Dragon's Stair. Phoney brought the cows to a halt and got off, running out to embrace Smiley.

"Heya, Smiley," he said. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Th' Dragon told us you were comin'." Smiley replied. "Is this the cart we took back to Boneville?"

"Percival managed to dig it up for me. He got back a few weeks ago. Finding the cows was the hard part, but I managed it."

"How're things back home, then?"

"All squared away," Phoney said. "I am officially retiring to the countryside, as it were."

"Good to have ya!" Smiley exclaimed. He whistled, and a pair of rat creatures emerged from the nearby spines.

"The one who bears the star," one of them muttered, pointing at Phoney's t-shirt.

"Play nice," Smiley warned. "And go tell King Brak I'm going to be helping Phoney get settled in for the next few days."

"As you wish," the other said. They scurried off, bickering, and Smiley hopped up into the cart.

"King Brak?" Phoney asked, climbing up next to him.

"Bartleby had to take on a new name when they crowned him. He insists I use it in front of the other rat creatures."

"Our little Bart's all grown up…" Phoney muttered.

"I know," Smiley said, holding back a tear. "I'm so proud!"

"Fone would have killed to see us all back here, together. Didn't think he'd kill himself to make it happen, but—"

"Don't talk like that!" Smiley shouted, cutting him off. "Fone's out there. We'll find him."

"I sure hope so," Phoney sighed.

"Let's not hang around here with all this glum talk." Smiley said, grabbing the reigns from Phoney's hands. "Wendell and Euclid are waitin' for us in Barrelhaven. We shouldn't keen em' waitin'."

"No, you're right," Phoney said. "Let's get going. We wouldn't want Thorn to see us like this, now would we?"

"Any thoughts, High Priestess?" Sybron asked. Taneal's attention snapped back to the council meeting. She'd been lost in thought. It was uncharacteristic of her. She needed to focus.

"I'm sorry, I was distracted," she said. "Where were we?"

"The Pawan resettlement is complete," Sybron said. "Prince Rankyne and King Brak are arriving tomorrow to discuss unifying the kingdoms."

"And the Queen should choose a consort soon" Mermie said. Thorn audibly sighed from across the room. She glanced at Taneal, pleading her to have her back on this.

"I have no objection," Taneal said. "The Queen may decide what she wishes, but the Temple won't stand in her way."

"Traitor," Thorn muttered, rolling her eyes. Taneal had to suppress a laugh.

"Finally, this council is starting to sound coherent," Gran'ma Ben said. "Makes me feel good about finally retiring."

She hadn't ever recovered from her fight with the Locust, not really. She needed assistance to walk nowadays. One of the Dreaming Initiates was present to help her with anything she needed.

"I still have reservations about letting King Rankyne back into the city," Gabriel said.

"Your objection is noted, Gabriel," Thorn said. "But Ven says he's clear, and I agree. The Locust is dead. They're all dead."

"Yes, well," Sybron said. "The Disciples of Venu will be ready regardless."

"Good, then—" Thorn stopped. A shadow moved in the corner of the room. Taneal sighed. She didn't know why they insisted on conducting everything in secret even know. Everyone in the room, with the exception of Gran'ma Ben's assistant, had fought either the Locust of Mon'Yaran face to face in some capacity.

"We'll discuss this later," Thorn said, standing up. "Everyone should prepare for King Rankyne's arrival in the meantime meeting adjourned."

With that, she strode out of the tent. Taneal stood up and left as well. The city was still being rebuilt, and it would be many more years before it was all complete. The citizens were largely living in tents, so Thorn insisted they not stir up resentment by conducting the council meetings in one of the few remaining structurally sound buildings.

"Hey," Tom said, standing up from a chunk of brick laying near the tent. Roderick scampered off his arm as he did. Taneal's heart skipped a beat seeing him. She didn't know what to say, but she walked over to him and wrapped his hand in hers. She felt strange, doing it, but it was a good strange. Tom didn't object as they started walking toward the city.

"How was the meeting?" he asked.

"Boring," Taneal sighed. "Thorn's upset. She's doing her best to hide it, but she misses Fone. And I think everyone bothering her about taking a consort is just rubbing salt in the wound."

"You'd think they'd have a little more tact than that."

"Mermie and Rose are retiring soon. They want to leave the kingdom in good hands before they do, I think. And she needs to come to terms with his death sooner or later."

"He isn't dead," Tom said. Taneal stopped.

"I want him to be out there as much as you do, Tom. Believe me."

"He's out there," Tom insisted. "I can hear him at night, sometimes. Maybe Thorn can hear him too. I never get the chance to say anything back, but I know he's out there somewhere."

"I pray you're right. Something must be keeping the balance without Mon'Yaran. But if it were possible for him to come back, I think he would have."

"Yeah…" Tom sighed. "It still doesn't feel real, y'know?"

Taneal hopped up on a piece of rubble next to Tom. Before he could protest, she grabbed his collar and pulled him forward, kissing him.

"Feel real yet?" she asked, her voice small. She couldn't look him in the eyes.

"Yeah…" he said. He reached up and touched her face.

"Tom!" Smiley shouted, breaking the mood instantly. Taneal stumbled back, falling off the rubble, and they both looked exceedingly embarrassed.

"Heya, Smiley," Tom said sheepishly. "Welcome back."

"I think we're interrupting," Phoney said. He and Smiley pulled their cart to a stop next to Tom and Taneal. "Do you know where Thorn is?"

"With Ven," Taneal said, hiding her face. "They should be nearby."

"Thanks!" Smiley said, starting up the cows again.

"Sorry," Taneal muttered. "That was sudden, and I—"

"Don't be," Tom said, grabbing her hand. "It was nice."

Taneal wanted to run right there. But she was too flustered to move. Despite everything they'd lost, she felt happy. Hopeful. She thought maybe she could hear a voice on the wind as she and Tom walked back to the temple, hand in hand.

"I don't know if you can hear me," the Great Red Dragon said, placing a hand against the Crown of Horns. "But if you can, then… You were a good friend. Maybe the best friend I've ever had. I'm sorry things turned out this way. If only I'd been stronger, acted quicker then maybe… Maybe I could have done something. Maybe you'd still be here. I'm sorry."

The Great Red Dragon paused, taking his hand away. Inside the Crown, he could make out the vague outline of Fone's body. An empty shell now, according to Ven. That didn't stop him from coming down here every day to talk to it. He felt like maybe it would give him peace or something. It hadn't worked so far. He had too much on his mind to really ever find peace. He suspected he'd be regretting most of his life choices until the day he died. He'd always been a coward when it counted. Dragons usually were.

"Red!" Ted exclaimed, jumping into the room. "Breshet says the rebels are on the move! We gotta go!"

"Right," the Great Red Dragon huffed. He promised himself after the Locust that he'd be better. Do better. This is what that looked like. Rooting out the corruption he'd let fester in the Dragon Council for too long.

"See ya 'round, Fone Bone," he said, taking a long drag from his cigar. He tapped the ashes on the ground and started to lumber forward. Just before he left the room, though, he stopped to glance back at Fone's body. He'd never noticed before, but… Was he smiling?

"Bastard," the Great Red Dragon muttered, shaking his head. "It's just like you to die smiling."

"Come on!" Ted shouted.

"Coming!" the Great Red Dragon hollered. He put the cigar out on the wall and took off. Even with Fone gone, he still had a job to do. Mistakes to make up for.

"Report," Thorn said, leaning against the wall.

"Quimrath has convinced another handful of Dragons to defect," Ven said. "Red and Breshet are handling things on their end, but I thought you should know, just in case. They might try to make a move when Rankyne and the rats arrive."

"I can deal with a few Dragons. And the First Folk?"

"Still nothing. There weren't many of them left after the Nacht's rampage anyway, but… With Lorimar and Shard are dead, the Councilman's been obliterated, and Mon'Yaran is gone. The rest seem to have disappeared. We don't need to worry about them anymore."

"Let me know if anything comes up," Thorn said. "Any word on Fone?"

"Thorn—"

"Don't you start with me too!" sha snapped. "I am not giving up."

"He's not moved in months. Red will tell me if anything changed, but I don't think he's coming back."

"He has to," Thorn hissed. "He promised he wouldn't leave me again."

"If he could have come back by now, he would have. You know that. Nagratek thinks—"

"I don't want to hear the necklace's opinion," Thorn said. She grabbed the amulet around Ven's neck and held it up. "You still owe me too, you hear that? Do me a favor and keep quiet."

"Thorn!" Smiley shouted. She glanced back to see him and Phoney driving a cart up to where she and Ven were meeting.

"I guess that's my cue," Ven said. "For what it's worth, Thorn, I'm sorry. I wish there was more I could do."

"Yeah, me too. Good luck."

Thorn turned around as Ven vanished into the shadows. Her abilities had gotten more unpredictable since she'd been shredded by Mon'Yaran. Another item on their ever-growing list of things to deal with.

"Hey, Thorn," Phoney said as the cart came to a halt. "How've you been?"

"I've been better," she said. "Rebuilding a kingdom's no easy task, but I've got some practice. How are things back home?"

"In the Republic?" Phoney asked. "They're settled. But this place is home now, as far as I'm concerned. Fone would have wanted it that way, I think."

"Yeah…" Thorn sighed.

"We'll find him," Smiley said. "Don't worry."

"Yeah, I…" Thorn stopped as tears began to well up in her eyes. "I know, I just…" She slumped down, crying into her hands. Phoney put a hand on her shoulder, and she almost batted him away. But she couldn't muster the energy. As she cried, she thought she could feel someone's hand on her cheek brush the tears away.

"Fone?" she muttered, looking up. She wanted to badly to hear his voice.

I'm here.

She didn't know if it was a trick of the wind or wishful thinking or her mind playing tricks on her. But she heard his voice. Maybe he hadn't left her alone after all.