As he read, all he felt was persistent cold.

  Kalen, I’m sorry.

  I keep thinking [smudge] this wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Mayhap I would wait for you, to be yours and to live out the rest of our story with you. Gods know I wanted [smudge]

  But life doesn’t work like that. I need to find my own way—I can’t have you make my choices for me. And until you see that [smudge] Here’s your ring back, by the way.

  Farewell.

  I hope you find what you’re looking for—and that I do too.

  —M

  Kalen sat a long time, looking down at the letter in his hand. He let the aches and sharp reminders of the past days settle. He felt them more keenly, since Myrin had touched him—had kissed him—though he didn’t know why.

  A tremor of sadness passed through him. It might have been a sob, if he’d not been weighed down by so many years—so many scars earned in service to the memory of a long-dead god—that he could not weep. So much pain, inflicted and suffered. When would it be enough?

  He realized, almost immediately, that it didn’t matter.

  She was asking him to make a choice that went against everything he was, or had ever been. He couldn’t make that choice, and she knew it. That was why she had left.

  If he followed her now—if he rose and limped out the door and tracked her down—would it be to set things right, or would it be for her? What would he say to her?

  He moved to crumple the note and toss it in the bin, but he saw more words scrawled on the back. He smoothed the parchment with shaking hands.

  I wasn’t going to say this. I scratched it out on the front, but you deserve to know.

  I did something to you, Kalen—I can’t [smudge] I can’t feel my hand well, as I write this.

  When I kissed you, I took some of your sickness from you. I absorbed it. I didn’t do it on purpose, it just happened. [smudge] I think you’re going to live. Just a bit longer. Some of my life for some of yours. Call it [smudge] a fair exchange, for bringing me to life at all.

  You don’t owe me.

  Kalen blinked. He stared at the letter for several pounding heartbeats.

  He was out the window before the letter fluttered to the floor.

  About the Author

  Since 1990, Steven E. Schend has worked full-time or freelance as an editor, developer, designer, writer, or assistant manager for at least six publishers on dozens of fictional worlds. Steven now lives with his wife in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where he teaches and works feverishly on novels and stories in worlds of his own.

  Jaleigh Johnson is the author ofThe Howling Delve and two short stories in the FORGOTTEN REALMS®world. When not writing, she enjoys role-playing games, computer games, gardening, and movies. Visit her online at www.jaleighjohnson.com to learn more.

  Erik Scott de Bie lives in the Seattle area with his wife, two cats, and far too much gamer stuff. He writes technical documentation by day, fights injustice by night, and gives the rest of his time to fiction, gaming, and his lovely lady (not necessarily in that order).Downshadow is his third FORGOTTEN REALMS® novel. He maintains an author’s blog at eriksdb.livejournal.com, which is linked from his website, www.erikscottdebie.com.

 

 

  Steven E. Schend, Ed Greenwood Presents Waterdeep, Book I

 

 

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