32. Epilogue

Epilogue

Brooks

A crimson light flashed, bouncing off the sewer walls. The light dimmed to a glow, pulsing like a heartbeat in time to the small waves caused by the current that flushed the castle waste downstream.

Brooks opened his eyes. The ceiling above was covered in black and green moss and lichen. The fluid surrounding him reeked even worse than the dungeon itself.

A flash of movement caught his attention as a rat scurried along the side of the tunnel just above the waterline.

He sat up, wrinkling his nose as his wet tunic clung to his chest and rivulets of liquid crawled from his hair down his face.

The light from his magestone pulsed again as the ache in his chest faded. One of the many benefits of his bond with the gem was the ability to heal. Not that he'd been stupid enough to share that with the mountain elf.

The cursed elf had stabbed him and thrown him in the sewer like…like trash.

The idiot.

He tilted his head to one side then the other, eliciting a loud pop both times.

At this point, he didn't care who'd won…though since Malkov hadn't come for him, he was fairly certain that meant the elf had emerged victorious.

The realm was doomed.

As possibly the last surviving member of the rightful regime, it was his duty to expel the elves and set things right. And since Malkov had no heirs, that made Brooks the logical successor. The nobles would much prefer him to an elven or dwarven overlord.

The first step was to get cleaned up and find some new clothes. Then, if he could gain access to the king's inventory of Whisperers, he could take out the knife-ears one group at a time.

Heaving himself to his feet, he staggered down the tunnel, away from the palace and into the heart of the city.

This is the end of To Kill a King but the series continues. Watch for Book 2: To Save a Kingdom , coming mid-2025!