Read an Excerpt
Another series of bright-white explosions erupted where sea met shore as Farilane stood on the rocky coast and scanned the darkening sky for the star that would guide them to the treasure. That was the hope. Being that this was the twelfth night she’d stood at the same spot, Farilane had her doubts.
On the first three evenings, it had rained. The next two, while dry, were frustratingly overcast. The sixth day dawned blue, but by late afternoon, the clouds had returned as if they’d forgotten something. Poor weather continued throughout the seventh and eighth days. The three after that were literal washouts, forcing a retreat to her field camp or risk being rinsed into the sea. Trapped in her leaky tent, Farilane had reread her notebooks, verifying the calculations for the hundredth time. She’d missed nothing. That shelf of stone partway down a rocky cliff was the correct place. Everything except the weather was perfect, but time was running out. She couldn’t bear to wait for another year.
Then on the twelfth night, she caught a break. A star appeared.
”Is that it?“ Kolby asked, pointing at the singular pinprick of light on the darkening horizon. There was hope in his voice.
”Tell you in a minute.“ Farilane took out her astrolabe and positioned it directly over the staff she’d placed days before. She struggled to align the device’s rule with one hand while dangling the delicate instrument with the other. ”Be a dear and hold this for me, will you?“ She offered the ring at the top of the disk to him.
Kolby took the brass apparatus of movable plates with his left hand. Farilane had known he’d use his left before she had offered the instrument. His choice wasn’t arbitrary; nothing about Kolby ever was. He always reserved his right hand for his sword.
”What is this thing?“ he asked, his eyes studying the device, his nose turned up as if the metal reeked.
”You’re holding the entire universe in your hands.“ She smiled. ”So don’t drop it.“
Kolby narrowed his eyes, first at her and then at the device, his concern turning to skepticism. He held the large ring at the full extent of his arm so that the bottom barely touched the top of the measurement staff, leaving the disk to hang like a lantern.
A lantern. Farilane smiled at the idea. Yes, that’s exactly what it is, a tool to illuminate the world.
”Now hold still,“ she commanded. ”How still?“ he asked.
Typical Kolby: precise, exacting, and literal. A byproduct of the training, no doubt. All Teshlors were that way to a degree — more than a bit inhuman, until you saw them drunk or angry. That didn’t happen often. She suspected that controlling one’s rage was also part of the training. If it wasn’t, it ought to be. An enraged Kolby topped Farilane’s list of the scariest things she’d ever seen.
”Like you’re about to loose an arrow for a very important shot, one you can’t afford to miss.“
Kolby nodded, took a deep breath, then held it. The astrolabe hung from his fist as if nailed to a tree.
Farilane resumed lining up the rule with the star. As she did, Virgil stirred. The philosopher woke with an unhappy moan. He had been napping on the cold rock for the last two hours.
Wiping his eyes, he got to his feet. Snow-white hair, long beard, and a dark cloak flew about him like living things. As he stretched his arms and neck, a grimace relented to the demands of a wide yawn.
How can he sleep on the eve of such an auspicious discovery, not to mention on such a narrow ledge?
The old philosopher was such a sound sleeper that he could doze on the back of a cow caught in a stampede during a thunderstorm. He’d always been that way and had gotten better at it with age. ”Well?“ he asked.
”Give me a second,“ Farilane said. She rotated the astrolabe’s rete to the proper position, realigned the rule with the star, then read the face of the disk. ”That’s the Eye of the Bear, the brightest star in the constellation Grin the Brown — first evening star of early spring.“
”Are you done? Can I move now?“ Kolby asked.
”No. Keep holding that bow steady, soldier.“ Farilane offered him a grin, then moved around to the other side of the astrolabe and peered through the same sight holes on the rule. ”There!“ she yelled, pointing down near the foaming water at a dark gap in the honeycombed cliff.
”What’s she pointing at?“ Kolby asked Cedric, a note of concern in his voice.
The younger soldier instantly advanced, and after taking a look, he shrugged.
Farilane had nearly forgotten Cedric was with them. Although physically larger than Kolby, he seemed smaller. She attributed this conflicting phenomenon to personality. Kolby had a presence, but Farilane couldn’t remember having heard Cedric speak. She had supposed he might be mute but felt it would be impolite to ask. ”Relax,“ she told the pair. ”We aren’t in any danger of being attacked.“
”You always say that,“ Kolby grumbled.
”What are you worried about?“ She looked up at the rapidly fading, orange-cast sky, where a handful of seabirds soared. ”Man-eating seagulls?“
”Goblins,“ Virgil said. ”They didn’t name this the Goblin Sea because it’s shaped like one.“
”The Ba Ran are seafarers,“ Farilane pointed out. ”We’d see their ships if any were near.“
”Not necessarily,“ Virgil added. ”This area is littered with coves and caves. They could hide their vessels in any of them. That happens all the time. Haven’t you heard about that poor little village of Tur? It’s been ravaged over and over.“
”That’s all the way down on the southern tip of Belgreig. And goblins aren’t raiding that coast. Pirates are.“
”Perhaps, but let’s not forget that a thousand years ago, goblins came from out here and used a network of underground waterways to attack Percepliquis and kill Emperor Nyphron.“
”That’s only one theory,“ Farilane qualified. ”We both know there are several contradictory accounts of the first emperor’s death. And for the record, he died one thousand twenty-nine years, eleven months, and two weeks ago.“
They all stared at her as if she’d belched.
”How many hours?“ Virgil asked and then chuckled.
Confused as to why the scholar was laughing, she replied, ”Sixteen and a half.“ She glanced at the astrolabe. ”Give or take a minute or two.“
Virgil stopped laughing, and they all stared at her, dumbfounded. ”What?“ she asked. ”How precise do you need me to be?“
His expression changed from amusement to shock. ”Ah no.
That’s…that’s fine.“
”Are you sure? Or would you prefer to discuss the ramifications of the Belgric War for a few hours before getting back to why I practically screamed There! twenty minutes ago?“
No one said anything.
”Good. Because I was pointing out the cave entrance we’re looking for. I found it. It’s that one down below us.“ She took the astrolabe back from Kolby and carefully stowed it in her pack. ”Shall we, gentlemen?“
”You can’t be serious,“ Virgil said. ”It’s nearly night. Now that we know which hole to explore, can’t this wait until morning?“
Farilane pointed at a hazy gray curtain of rain sweeping across the Goblin Sea. ”Wind is blowing our way. The last storm trapped us for days, and we’re running low on food. Besides, all these crevasses look the same, and if we come back in the morning, I doubt I’ll be able to identify the right one.“
The old man frowned as he looked down the slick, jagged face of the cliff. ”Allow me to rephrase. You don’t expect me to climb over slippery stone in the dark, do you?“
”Why not?“
The old man replied with a dangling jaw.
When she didn’t respond, he explained, ”I’m not a limber young woman. I’m sixty-eight years old, and even in my prime no one would have described me as athletic.“ He took a step forward for a better look, then grimaced. ”One slip and your man-eating seagulls will be pecking flesh off my shattered bones.“
”Virgil,“ she began, placing her hands on his shoulders, ”life is a gamble, my friend. The trick is to wager wisely, balancing risk against reward. At your age, nothing is too perilous. Working for a wedge of cheese at a leper colony wouldn’t be out of the question. And the reward waiting in that cave is so much better than a bit of cheese.“
”You can’t know that. The book you’re searching for has been intentionally hidden for centuries. I have to think there’s a reason. Perhaps you should reconsider the implications of unleashing such a thing upon the world.“
”I seek the truth, and the truth is always a good and noble goal.“
”Is it?“
”Yes.“ She nodded sharply. ”For example, earlier you said you weren’t a limber young woman. This was meant to suggest the contrast between the two of us. But Cedric might interpret the comment to verify the all-too-vocal and false rumor that the imperial family is human. It’s possible Cedric could repeat the comment, erroneously describing me to his friends as a young woman, and thus further the misconception. If repeated enough times, that inaccuracy could be believed by millions. So, what began as an innocent joke between friends might become a distorted reality for future generations.“ She hoisted her pack to her shoulder and turned to the younger knight. ”For the record, I’m old enough to be Virgil’s great-great-great-grandmother, and I’m not a woman.“
Cedric eyed the princess suspiciously.
Farilane frowned as she considered the myriad of things the young knight could be thinking. ”What I meant is that I’m only part human. My father is descended from Nyphron who was elven — or Fhrey as they used to call themselves.“ She paused to calculate. ”Since all the emperors except Nolyn took human wives — and because both Nolyn and his wife, Sephryn, were half-elven, which resulted in no bloodline dilution — that makes me only one thirty-second elven. Arguably, I am more human than elf, but it’s still not technically accurate to call me a woman.“
”It’s truly a wonder why you aren’t married.“ Virgil shook his head. ”You knew what I meant.“
”I did. He didn’t. Facts are important. They are the notches we cut in trees as we explore reality — lose them, and we might never find our way.“
The old man shook his head again. ”The point I was making is that I can’t climb as easily as the three of you can.“
”What do you want from me, Virgil?“ Farilane slapped her sides. ”The knights aren’t allowed to abandon me even to assist my tutor, and you can’t climb back up the rope by yourself. I can’t leave you here on the side of this cliff. You’d fall asleep, roll off, and die. Either we climb down now or give up, and I’m not willing to quit — not after so many decades of searching — not when we’re this close.“ She took a breath, then added, ”Look, it will be okay. I promise. And when we get back to camp, you can have pie.“
”Oh really? Pie? Well, that’s a completely different argument, now, isn’t it?“ Virgil peered below at the violent war being waged between sea and coast. ”And you’re right.“ He sighed. ”I’m not risking much, am I?“
