The rending sound becomes louder. Vibrating in his ears. He is transfixed. She is transfixed. People will ask him where he was on this day. He will say, “In a small boat in the bay. With a friend.”

The towers shake and shake but never fall. The men and women and things coming out from the door, their progress does not slacken. They keep spilling out, and as they do, the scene in the background becomes grayer and grayer. Like a smudge. The lines of force from the tops of the towers into the city begin to waver. Until one by one they erase themselves. Slowly. Then more quickly.

Waves now in the bay, like an aftershock. Smacking against the boat. He is holding her tight against the awful wonder of it. He is holding on to her like something familiar.

And still the rebels come, as the backdrop begins to fade. Things from the other side now touch that surface. Fall forward. Into the air. Their shapes that were in that other place graceful or translucent become crumpled and dark. Falling. Extinguished in the bay.

And still the rebels come. Transformed and normal. Through the green-gold door.

Something stirs in him. A hint of a feeling close to pride. Close to horror. Because he knows, and she knows, that the world has changed. And he helped change it.

It may not be better. It may be worse. But it will be different.

He’s reached the end of being Finch. Of being Crossley. He’s reached the end, and he has no idea who or what he will be next.

He sits in the rowboat next to her and watches the end and beginning of history.

Remembers it all.

Forgets it all.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Over the course of writing these books, numerous individuals influenced my edits and thoughts about the series as a whole. They have been thanked in the original editions. Here I would like to thank Sean McDonald and everyone at MCD / Farrar, Straus and Giroux for their enthusiastic support of this mammoth reprint project. Thanks as well to my wife, Ann, whose suggestions while writing all three books were invaluable. Thanks to Ann also for publishing Dradin, In Love as a standalone book. I am also indebted to the thoughts and imagination of old friends Matthew Cheney and Eric Schaller over so many years. Major appreciation to Howard Morhaim, the agent who doggedly found good homes for the Ambergris books over the years. Thanks to all the artists who worked on these books over the years. Additional thanks to Sally Harding, Liz Gorinsky, Henry Hoegbotton, and the editors who originally acquired these books for publishers large and small: Sean Wallace, Juliet Ulman, Peter Lavery, Jim Minz, Nicholas Cheetham, and Victoria Blake. I must also mention and thank all of those who hosted Shriek movie parties at small theaters around the country on original publication, with special appreciation for Edward Morris for having the brashness to display fresh squid at the premiere in Portland. Huge appreciation to Robert Devereaux, the Church, and Murder by Death for their soundtracks for Ambergris. Finally, thanks to all the booksellers and readers who championed the Ambergris Cycle over the years and made this reprint possible. Much love.