A Lucky Bat Book



The Raie’Chaelia
Book One of the Legend of the Raeie’Chaelia
Copyright 2011 by Melissa Douthit
All rights reserved

Cover Artist:
Charles Nemitz
 
Published by Lucky Bat Books


Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Foreword

The following story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events were fabricated by the author, from the author’s imagination. Any likeness to actual names, people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
With the exception of citation in articles and reviews, this work may not be used, copied, reproduced, printed, forwarded, or circulated in any form without the express written permission of the author. All rights are reserved.




Preface

On the morning of 21st of September, 2007, I sat down at my computer with a cup of coffee and clicked a familiar bookmark on my internet browser. The link took me to a website that I knew well. In doing so, I learned that one of my favorite authors had passed away. His name was James Oliver Rigney, Jr., also known as Robert Jordan. The website was www.dragonmount.com.
Ever since I was seventeen, I have been reading his epic fantasy series, The Wheel of Time. I remember buying the first book, The Eye of the World, from a local bookstore and rushing home to read it. I remember it like it was yesterday. To this day, after twenty-one years, I am still reading his series as it quickly draws to a conclusion in its final completion by Brandon Sanderson.
I never thought I could be a writer given that my talents lie in other areas, mostly in mathematics and science, but when I learned of Jordan’s passing, I decided to start writing a story that I had been tossing around in my head for a while. The ideas were there but the realization of those ideas into a book was a problem. I didn’t believe that I could do it. So, that morning, inspired by Jordan’s life story, I sat down and started typing. I soon found that by having read his books, as well as many others by other authors, the writing came naturally and the words flowed. The following novel is the result of that day.
Now, three years later, my first novel has been published. It is a novel with both a storyline and a background theme. The ideas for the story were conceived out of a desire to write a fantasy that was different from any other I had read in the past. The entire story required a few years to fully develop, but I believe I have achieved my original intention — keeping it different. I am hoping that you, its reader, will feel that difference and love it.
As you read, you may come across language, names, or terminology in the text that appear out of place or anachronistic. They are not. There is a reason for them that will become more clear as the story progresses. In fact, almost every detail in the novel has a purpose, from the intricately-drawn scenery in the beginning to the hair color of the heroine of the story. Again, those purposes will become clearer later on.
Thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoy it.

Very Respectfully,
Melissa Douthit



In Memoriam
James Oliver Rigney, Jr. 
October 17, 1948 to September 16, 2007
A good man and a great writer
May he rest in peace




Acknowledgements

If it wasn’t for the help, support, and inspiration of the following people, this book would not exist: Ian Derrick and Zack Christensen who were the first to read the story and believe in it. Samantha Derrick for her support. Cindie Geddes for all her information, services and support. Judith Harlan for her editorial review, support and information. Charles Nemitz for his artwork. All of the professionals at Lucky Bat Books who made the publication of this book possible. All of the professional authors of the Superstars Writing Seminar for their advice, help, and support: Kevin Anderson, Rebecca Moesta, Dave Wolverton, Brandon Sanderson, Eric Flint, Tracy Hickman, and Sherrilyn Kenyon. All of the members of the Superstars Writers’ Group for their advice and support. Kris Rusch and Dean Smith for their blogs, help and advice. Robert Jordan for his inspiration and Harriet McDougal for her help and advice. Finally, a special thanks goes to Angel, Dave, and Bronwen.
I would also like to thank Andrea Bocelli for his song, Canto Della Terra, and Enya and AC/DC for their music that served as an inspiration for much that is written in this book.





Table of Contents

foreword
preface
acknowledgements
prologue
chapter1
chapter2
chapter3
chapter4
chapter5
chapter6
chapter7
chapter8
chapter9
chapter10
chapter11
chapter12
chapter13
chapter14
chapter15
chapter16
chapter17
chapter18
chapter19
chapter20
epilogue
afterword
sneakpeak
abouttheauthor
beforeyougo





The Raie’Chaelia
Book One of the Legend of the Raie’Chaelia
by Melissa Douthit 


Prologue

Waves pounded the shoreline, spraying mist into the wind that stirred white sands glittering in the moonlight. A dark ship with dark sails, anchored in the reef, swayed with the movement of the water and the wind. In the distance, black, threatening thunder clouds roiled in the sky over the ocean, hurling fierce lightning bolts through the rain. It was a magnificent storm that was swiftly approaching. 
From the glistening beach, moist air blew upwards, carrying the ocean’s salt toward a towering cliff. Wind in the subterranean caverns that wove deeply into the heart of the land whistled a musical sound that echoed through the winding passages, falling just short of discovering underground secrets that were lost to the ages. Outside, the sea spray floated up the side of a cliff that ended at the foot of colossal walls of a great, white palace. Constructed of a series of concentric towers, the palace was resplendent, even in the night. The constant touch of wind, sand, and water, never dulled its shine. 
The salty mist came to settle upon a foreboding scene in the inner garth of the keep, the highest structure. On the dais, in the middle of the courtyard, lay a fair-haired, bearded man chained to a marble altar. A man in black stood just above him facing the front of a ring of spectators who were lingering in the shadows. The man in black was tall and broad, with thick black hair that was sleeked back from his brow and reached just under his ears. His dark eyebrows slanted menacingly and his thin mustache curled slightly upwards at the corners of his mouth. He appeared anxious. His eyes combed the light of the torches that spotted the mantlet wall of the ward, as if he were looking for minute cracks in it that held the answer. The man on the altar appeared calm but his fatigue, to his great relief, could mask even his fear. He was dressed in white robes. It seemed that at least his captors allowed him that. It was small thing, but a blessing, for the marble was cold … and the night was cold …
I am such a fool! he thought to himself, as he lay there helpless, reflecting upon his mistakes and his regrets, pondering the string of betrayals that had led to this moment. There was nothing he could do about them now. Yet, he couldn’t help but dwell on them, asking himself the same questions he had asked a million times before. Why did I ever lock it away so carelessly? I should never have taken it off. His thoughts taunted him. Why did I let Braywin study something so dangerous, even for the most skilled of the Readers? Sighing, he answered himself. A father’s love, I suppose, but I could have stopped her from the same folly. He sighed again. A husband’s love. He worried about his wife. Alaenia, wherever you are, stay there! Do not return to the palace.
He turned his head toward the man in black. “You will never get away with this, Lucce. You know that. It cannot be done,” he rasped. His intense blue eyes blazed with an icy rage that he was too weak to physically muster.
Lucce glanced down, temporarily interrupted from his vigilant anticipation. He glared at the chained man with hateful eyes, dark and full of scorn, shimmering with a red gleam of fire. They wanted to burn what they saw before them as the torchlight danced devilishly across his face.
“Quiet, Duquaine,” he said with a smugness that masked his apprehension. Lucce looked up again, searching. He was scanning the courtyard for any sign of movement. “We’ve heard enough from you, I think. Now that it comes to me, I should have done this first,” he hissed as the blood red stone hanging from the cord around his neck shone brilliantly in the darkness, bathing the scene in an ominous red light. Duquaine tried to call him a traitor but his head straightened, forcing his face upwards to peer into the deepness of the night, and then he felt his jaw and hands freeze. He could no longer move any part of his body except his eyes. Chained down, unable to move at all, he regretted his decision to protest. He should have kept silent. At least he had been able to move his hands. He could have used them to escape, somehow, if the situation had presented itself. Now it was too late. He would never escape.
From a distance, a rapid pounding of feet hit the marble floor announcing Ivan’s arrival. He had been sent to the watch tower to wait for Vlaad’s return and instructed to inform Lucce at once. Was he back? Did he find it? Then, with a shudder, he thought: No, he couldn’t have. It was hidden. Only the gatekeepers had access and they could never relinquish it. They would die. They were sworn to it, after all, so they knew they would die if they tried to betray the Council. He reassured himself. No, they could be trusted. Disillusioned, but still unwilling to give up hope, he kept telling himself that. For he had trusted Lucce once. He remembered. Thought him his best friend to whom he trusted his life. Of course, he was sworn too, Lucce. All of the Terravail were. It was law. But if Vlaad had succeeded, Duquaine would be sent away forever. No one in the Realm had the power or the knowledge of how to return him. What will happen to my family? My people? He could hear his children a few paces away, struggling in their bonds as the city’s clock tower slowly tolled midnight. His forehead beaded with sweat and his heart began to race …
“He has returned, my Lord,” Ivan said as he scrambled to the first step and bowed down low. He was an unctuous, obsequious little toady, short and squat with dirty brown, matted hair and a chubby, pockmarked face. Duquaine could never tolerate him. He wondered why he had never dismissed him before when he had had the chance. He might have avoided this whole mess. 
The slow clop of heavy boots rang out and Ivan looked up toward the west end. Vlaad was like a mountain, tall, broad, and dressed in black mail with the Red Flame of Maalda across his chest. The watchers made a path through their numbers, eager to let him pass. He strode with the grace and air of a king but his black eyes shone with intentions that were anything but kingly. His dark hair and hooded, black cloak tossed in the night wind as he approached his master, holding his helmet with one arm and a dark leather sack with the other. Black clouds rolled over the palace menacingly and thunder roared. The storm was here.
“It went well?” Lucce said, as more of a command than a question.
“More than well, my Lord,” Vlaad replied calmly, with a smile that curled his perfect lips.
“How did you do it?” Lucce was curious. He had faith in Vlaad, more than any other, but he had had his doubts too. In the deep recesses of his mind, he worried that Duquaine was right, that it couldn’t be done. After his bird had returned with the message though, he knew there was no more to fear. It could happen that night.
“Captured his son. So, he had a choice. His son’s life or his own.” He held up the sack. “You can see which one he took.”
“Excellent. And the boy?”
“I am sorry, my Lord, but I deemed it …” he paused, searching for the appropriate word, “... imprudent, to let survive a son that may one day seek to avenge his father. I am sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry,” Lucce said in a low voice. “It was well done. You see, I am glad I set this task to you. You knew exactly what to do.”
“I thank you, my Lord,” Vlaad said with a slight bow.
“Now, hand it to me,” Lucce commanded. “I want to finish this.”
There was a brief pause and a faint rustling. Above him, Duquaine saw two hands exchange a dark object. The strong hand with long fingers seized it impatiently and placed it on the prisoner’s chest. “And so, Duquaine, we shall see, who is right and who is worse than dead,” Lucce said with contempt as his muscled forefinger pressed the dark green stone hard into Duquaine’s chest while his own crimson stone glowed yet again. Then he muttered something incomprehensible and it all happened at once. The palace shook as if the land trembled beneath it. Thunder rumbled and lightning struck down. In a powerful flash, a thin disk of bright emerald light radiated from the dark stone, outward in all directions, flowing through anything in its path, and then … Duquaine was gone. The force of it knocked the crowd off its feet. The chains that had held him fell with a loud clang to the surface of the altar. Everyone slowly rose from the ground as drops of rain began to pour down upon them. There were gasps of astonishment from the unbelievers and a few cheers from the Draaquans. The muffled sobs of two children issued from a dark corner of the courtyard, as maniacal laughter echoed down the empty halls of the keep.

… Many months later …

It was freezing. The latch of the front gate was like ice on her fingers as she lifted it and let herself into the courtyard that she knew so well. Light from the cottage windows reflected off the icicles. It glimmered into the trees and onto the blanket of white that covered the ground. The snow, untouched except for her footsteps, sparkled as if multi-colored glitter had been strewn across it. In the distance she could hear the bells of the tower ringing in the holiday cheer and songs of merry-making well-wishers going about their business of gift-giving as so many of their ancestors had done for generations past. The smell of chimney smoke beckoned her longingly to come inside where it was warm and stay to enjoy the holiday season with family. She wished she could take part, though she knew she couldn’t. She had responsibilities to tend. The most precious of them was in the small bundle that she cradled in her arms. 
Quiet as a mouse, she made her way to the front door where she placed the bundle. Taking a letter out of her pocket, she thought of one last thing. She removed the golden ring from her right hand and placed it into the envelope. “My gift to you,” she whispered and laid the envelope on top. As she straightened, the door opened. Candlelight and warmth flooded the dark porch. A stout man with a grey beard, holding a pipe, emerged. His expression remained calm as he stared at her and the bundle at her feet. She looked into his eyes pleadingly. He nodded. When she saw that he understood, she raised her hand to say goodbye and he returned the gesture. Then slowly, reluctantly, she turned to leave. The old man gathered the bundle and closed the door carefully, watching her as she left. A hot tear burned down her frozen cheek as she trudged back across the path that she had made in the snow and wondered if she would ever see them again.




Chapter 1
The Road to Branbury

Chalice heeled Sunny down the cool, dark road. It was early, and morning mist covered the leaves of the thick forest with drops of dew that sparkled in the God rays peeking through the treetops. Chirping birds and scuffling forest animals, seeking their first meal of the day, slowly broke the silence of the dawn. He was a good horse, Sunny, given to her by her grandfather, Papa, before she left Canton Run. However, he did occasionally need a nudge or two when he pretended to be spooked by something unknown to her lurking in the dark. She had to admit, though, that there was something odd about this place that she had sought so desperately. It gave her a strange feeling.
A few paces further, the path brought them out of the knot of trees into a breezy clearing. She winced as she looked up at the horizon into the blue sky and was met by a bright beam of sunlight. As she gazed to the left, she saw a wide, green meadow, brilliantly dotted with white daisies, which sloped gently upward toward the peak of Mount Vaassa. To the right, a sharp cliff rendered a breathtaking view of the valley. It was the northernmost section of the Auramont Vale and barely visible through the low cloud cover that shrouded the land. She was almost there. She knew. She could feel it. Would he be there? Does he have what I was sent for? she wondered. Reaching down into her saddlebag, she pulled out a piece of bread and cheese that she gnawed hungrily. She was running low and would need to stop in the village for provisions before heading to Nathaniel’s farm. Papa had given her plenty of money that she kept tucked away in her bag: a bulging leather purse of fifty gold coronals, thirty-five silver sterlings, and twenty copper pence. That should be enough for a while, she thought.
“You must go to the village of Branbury, on the outskirts of Auramont. There is a man, Nathaniel Maehbeck. He has something to give you. He will know what to do. It is essential that you listen to him and follow his instructions. Go.” These were the last words she had heard him say before he had her hoisted up onto Sunny, with her bags hastily packed, and slapped the horse on the rear, sending him into an immediate gallop. The King’s men had already seized control of Canton and the smoke from the fires burned her eyes as she fled into the night. She recalled that as Sunny launched forward at full speed, she had managed to glance back. Before they reached the protection of the trees, she saw her grandfather heading off toward the pigeon cage. He must have been going to send a message, she thought. But to whom? Now, she wasn’t even sure if he was still alive. She tried not to think about it.
It was amazing, actually, that she had made it this far. Though, he had taught her well: how to track, find food when coin ran out, stay warm in the cold, and most of all, stay out of sight and keep silent while traveling. It kept her alive. Had he known he would someday send her off on her own, on a quest of which she knew absolutely nothing until now? Not that she knew that much about it. Find a man named Nathaniel and follow his instructions. That was it so far.
And so she had headed east. She knew Auramont was in that general direction from Canton. Using the old, updated map Papa had tossed into her bag, she found her way through Blackburn forest, just south of the Darrenfell Moor, through the Plains of Chauma to the Trui’Quirre Mountains, the path through which she had to negotiate carefully. It skirted the edge of the Praeceps and at the bottom rested a series of razor sharp rocks with which she did not want to become too familiar. The Praeceps were the steepest cliffs in Naeo’Gaea and provided the only way to pass through the mountains. The Trui’Quirre, or the Three Peaks, were so high, it was impossible to reach the top and survive. On the other side of the mountains, lay Auramont and Branbury was located to the east of Mount Vaassa which was an ancient mountain, the oldest in the chain. Of course, many of the names on the map that she had were written in the language of old, which was spoken before the beginning of the New Millennium. She could hardly imagine what life must have been like for those who survived the era before it, living mostly underground to escape the chill of a winter that had lasted for eons. She remembered Papa’s bedtime stories by the fireside and his instruction in Angaulic, the language spoken by those who lived during the Ice Age. He taught her everything he knew, except the story of her past.
Leave and go to a farm in Auramont?!? While everyone and everything she knew and had loved since she was a child were in danger? What was he playing at? she wondered. Frustrated, tired and saddle-sore, she burned inside to know what it was, this thing that was so important. It was what kept her going. She had been on the road for months and was almost there.
Sunny stumbled slightly and she glanced down to make sure his footing was stable. He must be getting tired too, she thought. They had been on the trail all night and even the strongest horse would tire without rest. So she dismounted and walked along by his side, leading him through the clearing. We’ll take a short rest in the shadow of the trees ahead, she thought to herself. Sunny was a young palomino gelding, stocky but sturdy, with a blond forelock, tail, and mane, and strong hooves and fetlocks. He had a broad, strong chest and a long stride that made for quick getaways when they were necessary. And he was just the right size for her. She was petite but hardy, for being raised in Canton meant you were trained in the Cantonese fighting arts from an early age and if that didn’t make you tough, nothing would.
Chalice was also very beautiful, which made it difficult for the boys to spar with her. She had fair skin and a smooth oval face that was caressed by long, golden, butternut curls. They folded down the sides of her cheeks and framed her red rosebud mouth, button nose, and large sapphire eyes that were decorated with long dark eyelashes. She wore an ocean-blue riding habit that was split in the skirt for straddling a horse and laced with a wavy pattern down the sides. It was comfortable and snug in the bosom and waist, but flared out at the bottom. What held in her body heat, though, was her darkly tanned, hooded, riding cloak that she had made out of lambskin. It was resilient and leathery on the outside for protection, and soft and furry on the inside for warmth. On the ring finger of her right hand, she donned a golden ring with a rare, long-cut, ice-blue diamond set in the heart of it. She was told that it had once belonged to her mother. On her riding dress, just below her left shoulder, hung a sapphire broach given to her by her grandmother, Naelli. However much she valued these gemstones from her mother and grandmother, her favored possession was the golden pendant around her neck that she kept close to her skin, under her garments. It held a golden amulet that Papa had had crafted by Elijah, Créone’s master smith who lived on the outskirts of Canton. The amulet was a circle that contained three lines meeting in the center and ending on the perimeter, not quite equidistant from one another, so that they formed what looked like a Y enclosed in the circle.
The amulet was special, not only because it was a gift from Papa, whom she loved dearly, but also because it was the exact shape of a distinct and unique birthmark on her right shoulder. At one time she had been doubtful that she was born with the mark because it was so unusual, but Papa had sworn that she was. He called it her lucky charm. Chalice was just shy of her eighteenth birthday, and he had been preparing something special for her. She suspected that the surprise was not of material gifts, though, but of the knowledge that she longed for her whole life, the knowledge of her family. All she had ever known about herself, from the earliest she could remember, was that she was Chalice Pandretti, granddaughter to Sebastian and Naelli Pandretti, who ran the Inn and Winery on Canton Run. Of her past and the existence of the rest of her family, she knew nothing. She had always wondered if maybe she had been an unwanted child. It was something that haunted her constantly. When she asked Papa about it, he said that she wasn’t old enough to know, that she must not ask further, and then he remained silent. For the celebration of her eighteenth birthday, he gave subtle hints that he would break that silence but it was too late. The village had been attacked and she had had to flee before the King’s men reached the inn. Now she despaired that she would never know.
The path through the clearing was long and she was awestruck by the beauty of the mountain passes. Beautiful but dangerous, she reminded herself. Mount Vaassa was so enormous, the extent of her vision could not reach its snowcapped peaks. It reminded her of all the failed attempts of those in the generations past who had tried to scale it. All the would-be masters of the mountain either froze to death or suffocated from lack of oxygen; that is, if they didn’t perish by a fall to a cold and rocky end. Fools! she thought. A ridiculously hopeless task. Why would anyone want to undertake it? You’d have to be completely crazy or arrogant … or both. After recently braving the middle passes, as far as she was concerned, having a healthy respect for the mountain was good and wise advice. Before reaching the end of the clearing and entering the next thicket of trees, she peered back toward the meadow. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something familiar about it, like a faint memory buried under a lifetime of experience. She wondered if maybe she had traveled this way before as an infant. If she had, she couldn’t remember it and Papa had never said anything about it either. Finally, she shook herself back to reality and, ignoring the thought, continued on.
A small way into the shade of the forest she noticed a small, flattened area surrounded by pines just off the right side of the path, down the hill a few paces. There, she and Sunny could make camp and take a short rest. They descended carefully and she tied his reins to the branch of a tree, the ground around which he immediately began searching for all the good green stuff that horses relished. She removed her soft lambskin riding gloves and, after tucking them behind her belt, grabbed a couple of small carrots from her saddlebag.
“Here boy, munch on these.” She held out her flattened palm and he grabbed them quickly. Then she dug in the bags again for her water skin. Thirst had taken hold of her and she drank almost half of it in one go. Crisp, refreshing mountain water, there was really nothing like it in Canton. It was fortunate that they had passed a brook a league back where they had filled up; otherwise they would have had to wait until they arrived at the village, which ran alongside the Canterine River.
After a few minutes of searching, she found some wood and kindling, and, using her flint and steel, had a crackling fire lit and hot tea in her cup. As she laid a woolen blanket from her bag on the ground next to the tree where Sunny was tied, she could hear the rustling of the tree leaves in the breeze. She sat down and rested her head on the trunk. Holding her cup in both hands on her lap for warmth, she faced upward, studying the treetops and the bits of azure sky that peeked in through the gaps of the green canopy above. Sequoias, she thought. How old were they? She knew that Mount Vaassa was the only mountain where this type of evergreen still grew. They were ancient, just like the mountain, and they existed in the world before the Ice Age, somehow surviving the cold. She thought how she would love to have known what it was like living in the time of the Ancient World. A golden age where knowledge was so advanced, it even exceeded Terravailian powers in some respects. She tried to imagine it and the more her mind wandered, the more relaxed she became. Her eyes closed. The light breeze was cool and the fire snapped and sizzled … and then she was walking down the white marble corridor again.
The corridor was wide and the marble glowed with radiant light. It was embellished with dark tapestries that traced its length. At the end of the corridor twisted a set of stairs that led to the top of the structure and she knew, without knowing how she knew, that her purpose for being there could be found through the staircase above. In defiance, however, she took the left doorway instead, curious to see the quarters that lay within. She had never seen these rooms before.
She entered what appeared to be a sitting room. It was spacious and greeted visitors with a plush Maliyan rug, of red and blue pattern, positioned in the middle of the floor. The magnificent rug carried the weight of two large settees that faced each other, whose cushions were of similar texture and design, and its legs, carved delicately of darkly stained cedar, were polished until they shone softly. In between the settees lay a low table carved of wood, but inlaid with gold on its surface, which held an empty goblet and a few scattered books. The brilliance of the marble walls cast a soft light around the room and created a warm, peaceful ambience.
She advanced further in and approached the large fireplace to the left that was worked in carved marble, until she stood on the white tiles of the hearth. The red-gold flames flickered, radiating a gentle energy throughout the chamber. She turned to examine the intricate Avielian tapestries that adorned the polished wall panels, and found that they depicted battle scenes of long ago, as it appeared by the attire of the men in the settings. Who were they? She wondered if they had once lived.
Passing the hearth, she noticed two doorways, one on each side of the sitting room, and a double doorway in front of her, consisting of crystal squares framed in carved cedar, that revealed a terrace behind it, overlooking the ocean. In the background, the sky was exploding in a glorious blaze of pink and purple as the rising sun peeked out over the horizon. As she moved toward the terrace, her gaze met the four-poster bed of the chamber to her left. It was a room that gave the same warmth and comfort as the entry but was clearly the bedchamber of whoever dwelled here. Whoever it was, she knew they were wealthy, maybe even noble. The enormous four-poster supported an indigo canopy with a white, tasseled contour and milky chiffon drapes that veiled a soft feather mattress dressed in silk sheets. To the right sat a bedside table topped with a polished jewelry box, and an antique washstand next to it that held a mirror so old, it was worn on the edges where it met the polished wood and was clouded in the center.
A soft, pulsating glow caught her eye and she whirled to the right. It was coming from the other doorway, opposite the bedchamber. Approaching cautiously, she entered a study furnished with plush chairs and a large, dark writing desk. Behind the desk, the whole wall was an enormous assemblage of bookshelves arrayed with books of varying size and age. As soon as she was close enough to make out the script of the titles, she read: The Reign of Ielierian Kings, The Code of the Realm, and Justice and Redemption. There were more but she knew there was no time to study them all. Interesting, she thought. These folk must be nobility.
The light did not cease its wax and wane, but pulled her toward a tall, wooden armoire with glass doors, that she opened to gaze upon a blue gem enclosed in a crystal case. The light from the gem rose and fell like a heartbeat. She reached for it but was thwarted by an invisible barrier that stayed her hand. Then she knew she could not touch it, and its beating was somehow telling her that it was time to ascend the staircase. She made her way back to the end of the corridor and slowly placed her foot on the first step. One by one she rose upward until she came to the light of a doorway that opened into a short hallway. The hallway led to the entrance of a courtyard. She followed the short length of it and as she entered the courtyard, she glanced to her right to see, through the embrasure, the golden ball of the sun over the watery distance. It was full morning and she closed her eyes to the rush of salty air as the wind blew her hair from her face. She could hear the cawing of the sea graels in the distance and smell the rich scent of the ocean. Suddenly, behind her, the clop of horse hooves gave her a start. She pivoted and …
Opening her eyes, she looked up into Sunny’s muzzle. The whites of his eyes shone with terror. He was snorting, stomping, and nudging her, trying to wake her. Fool! she called herself. What did Papa teach you? If you must rest, rest with one eye open.
“What is it, boy?” she said as she jumped to her feet, spilling her tea, which had lost its heat, and stroked his blond neck to calm him. Then she heard it, the same rustling sound that she had believed to be leaves in the wind. She glanced up toward the path from which they had traveled and glimpsed small, furry ears disappearing over the edge. She let out an oath. She should have known the difference between the sound of leaves and the sound of an intruder. Tossing down her mug, she bounded up the hillside. Once upon the path, she saw that whatever the creature was, friendly or hostile, it was no longer in sight but that it had left strange tracks — imprints that she had never seen before. What was it? she wondered. She tracked them to the other side, marking the areas of displacement of the small ground stones and fallen leaves. These she followed like breadcrumbs to a great oaden tree with deep-grained bark that was supported by enormous, thick roots.
Circling the tree, she came upon a hollow under the roots … that sprouted sage brush from underneath?!? This was a little too suspicious, as anyone who was studied in the botanical nature of the Trui’Quirre, knew that sage did not grow near oaden trees. She crept up silently toward the hollow and in one swift movement, gripped the thicket of brush and threw it aside. What leapt out of the hole was the last thing she expected. Half her height, a small, brown, furry creature, wearing a light brown, hooded cloak and carrying a small rucksack, brandished a tree branch at her and growled malignantly. It was chubby and had a small mouth with tiny teeth, a small, dark button nose to match tiny, dark button eyes, and fluffy, rounded ears that stuck out from the top of its oversized head. It reminded her of a teddy bear that she had cuddled at night when she was a child. Her lips quivered as she fought a crazy desire to laugh but she knew the expression shown on her face anyway. It was really like a small, forest animal attempting to scare her with a stick. It registered the look on her face, paused, and growled again, this time raising its arms as if to appear larger than it was. At this point, she could not hold back the laughter. It came out full force in a loud snort, bringing her nearly to tears. Frustrated and embarrassed, the little creature knew its plan was not working.
It darted up the tree faster than her eyes could follow. All she saw was a brown blur and before she could catch her breath to ask it to stay, the treetops were swishing back and forth, not because of the wind, though, but because that was how the Chinuka traveled when they did not want to be seen. For she knew what it was now but could not understand what it was doing so close to a village. The Chinuka never came this far down the mountain. Descendants of the tree dwellers of the Ancient World, they no longer had to depend on the safety of the trees but instead made their homes in the high passes of the mountains, where people could not survive. Papa had taught her that it was not always this way though. There was a time when they were friendly with the other races and had regular dealings with them, even in areas of business and trade. But after several battles, mainly among the Terravail, and too many deaths of the innocent, who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, they severed contact with the human world. The Chinuka were peaceful and did not like war. They were also highly advanced and very intelligent.
Suddenly, she heard a loud THUMP a few paces ahead. It was in the direction of the rustling trees and when she arrived at the spot, she found a small, leather-bound book. It must have dropped this, she thought. Maybe it will come back. So she waited, but the Chinuk did not return. Sighing, she walked back to her small camp where Sunny was waiting, nibbling the ground. He looked refreshed and she hoped that he had gotten as much sleep as she had, for it was afternoon, judging by the angle of the light, and it was high time for them to be on their way. Before packing and mounting, she opened the small leather book and studied the pages. She could not read Chinukan writing but she decided to keep it anyway, just in case. Somehow it seemed like a good idea. She stuffed it in her bag along with her woolen blanket and silver mug. Dousing the fire, she then camouflaged the spot with dirt and leaves, untied Sunny, and led him back up to the road.
It took her a while to get over the encounter with the creature. So that’s what they look like! I never knew they were so weird. She laughed to herself, picturing again in her mind its feeble attempt at frightening her. A few spans down, the path forked. The right fork sloped gently downhill toward Tanjeca Falls, which she could already hear faintly in the distance. The left fork led to the high passes, where she definitely did not want to go. So she reined Sunny to the right and leaned slightly back to give him his balance for the descent.
Her stomach growled. She couldn’t wait to arrive for a hot meal and a bath. It was difficult to recall the last time she had bathed in a warm tub after so many months of making camp, eating cheese, dried meat, and stale bread, and washing in the chill waters of the mountain. Thinking of it made her miss the warmth of home and the delicious aromas of Grandma Naelli’s kitchen. She remembered a time from when she was tiny and could view only her grandparents’ legs and feet, as she hid underneath the kitchen table and listened to the crackle of the fire that gleamed in the burnished kitchenware on the walls. In her mind, she could still hear the jangle of pots and pans as dinner was being prepared. It was her place of comfort, happiness, love, and laughter.
She thought of her grandparents and her friends and all the people in the town where she grew up. It made her sad. They had to be alright, she kept telling herself because she couldn’t bring herself to believe anything else. She wondered where Kirna and Tycho were and what they were doing. Kirna Dubin and Tycho Bendeban were her two best friends, that she had known since she was a small child, and with whom she had completed her training. Kirna was the only one who could best her at sparring but Tycho, on the other hand, was never very coordinated. Although, he could make you laugh when you wanted to rage, or cry, depending on your mood. At times, it was his best defense, for it was often hard to concentrate and keep your strength when you tickled inside with mirth. She recalled their fishing trips on the docks of the Créonar and stopping into the Trottoire to see Marie on their way back home, with their fresh catch of the day. Even though they had reeked of fish, she had still let them sit at her bar and have a bowl of Chaeochira, Chalice’ favorite soup, patiently listening to their silly stories, before the fading light of dusk pushed them out the door. Canton was the best place in the world and it was where she wanted to be right at this moment.
As she passed the old sawmill that marked the entrance to Branbury, she noted the absence of children playing along the riverbank. Papa had grown up in Branbury and told her stories of the old mill and games of cache-cache that they played when he was a child. Maybe the children don’t visit the old mill anymore, she thought. After a few minutes, she arrived at a second fork in the road and knew that proceeding left would take her to Nathaniel’s farm. However, she needed to visit the village first for a bit of shopping, not just because she was running low on supplies but also because it was customary to bring a gift to hosts who welcomed you into their home. So she reined Sunny to the right. He complied willingly and before she knew it, they were out of the woods and entering the village square.
It was a quaint, little town square, with a small park in the middle. There was a beautiful silver fountain at the center, gurgling with fresh, spring water, surrounded by a green, grassy area with scattered picnic tables and bracketball courts. Shops surrounded the park on all sides. The village bakery was just around the left corner from where she and Sunny strode. It was late afternoon, almost early evening, and eerily quiet. All she could hear was the wind in the trees and the slow clop of Sunny’s hooves on the cobblestone street. A strange sense came over her. It was too quiet. Where is everyone? she wondered.
She halted Sunny in front of the bakery, dismounted, and tied his reins to the hitching post just outside. The door was wide open as she entered. The aroma that met her nose was that of a hot stone fire oven and floured dough on a baking peel. Bags of baked bread lay in their baskets around the room, while sweets and pastries hid behind the glass case of the front counter. An old grandfather clock chimed five o’clock on the wall above the coffer and five pence lay scattered on the counter to the left. Everything seemed intact and normal, except there was no one in sight.
She left the store and noticed an old tavern to its right. It displayed a wooden sign outside the entrance, creaking in the wind. On the sign was a picture of a rugged man dressed in a leather jerkin with pockets full of iron tools, holding a tankard of ale with a horseshoe handle. The sign read: The Farrier. She stepped up to the swinging tavern door and pushed. Halfway in, the door stopped abruptly, blocked by something that lay on the floor. She shimmied through and found that it was a barstool that had been knocked over by someone who apparently had been in a rush to get out. She stood it straight and placed it out of the way. The rest of the tavern appeared peaceful. A group of polished wooden tables and chairs rested in the left corner behind the billiards table, which was frozen in mid-game, queue sticks lying across it. To the right, on the bar counter, lay an array of tankards. Behind it, the wall was given to casks of ale, wine, and brandy, with spigots jutting out for a barman to service the next customer. At the far end, lay a water pitcher on the bar and an empty bucket on the polished wooden floor. She glanced around the room and, again, saw no one. A tavern having no patrons at this time of day is passing strange, she thought. What was going on? She left the tavern and made her way back to the hitching post where Sunny was waiting. The silence was heavy and it weighed on her. She screwed up her eyes and peered around everywhere, still in shock. She had no idea what had happened here but there was one thing she did know. If there had been people here before, they were not here now. Branbury was a ghost town.




Chapter 2
A Childhood Friend

Chalice was lost. The thought of what to do escaped her. Think! she told herself as she closed her eyes, rubbed her temples, and tried to concentrate. This was something she hadn’t expected. Where was everyone? By the state of the village, they must have had to leave in a hurry. She would have thought that it had been an attack, like the one against Canton, but there was no evidence of that. Nothing was destroyed or burned, just emptied. Moreover, there were no tracks for her to follow so she had no way to search for them. What do I do? she asked herself. She knew she needed supplies badly and Sunny needed water. Take care of your immediate needs first, she told herself. After all, I have everything right here at my disposal … but I’ll be sure to leave coin near the coffers. That should cover the costs. She thought that if anything, it was for the hope of the safe return of the villagers who belonged there. After collecting the bucket and water pitcher from the tavern, she poured the water into the bucket and placed it in front of Sunny who knew exactly what it was. He lowered his beautiful head and drank deeply.
“I’ll be right back, boy,” she told him as she made her way back to the bakery to collect a few bags of fresh sourdough, leaving a couple pence on the counter. Then she proceeded onto the general store and lastly, to the cheese shop, which she found on the corner of Main and First Street. Arms full, she waddled back to the hitching post and fed Sunny the carrots and apples she had purchased. The bread, sausage, and cheese she tucked away into her bags, to offer Nathaniel for later after she arrived at the farm. On her tour around the shops, she had decided that that was to be her next move, to continue on with her original plan. The town may be empty but the farm may not be, hopefully, she thought silently to herself. It was a long shot but she had to take it. What else was there to do? She couldn’t return to Canton. So she untied Sunny, mounted, and heeled him down the street. The light fluttering and singing cries of a flock of greywings drifted overhead as she and Sunny strode down Main, right onto Pine, and out of the village.
A few minutes after passing the fork in the road where they had been an hour before, she could faintly hear the rush of flowing water of the Canterine and knew that they were getting close. The Canterine River was a wide, deep river whose current moved rapidly from the downhill force of the mountain’s steep slope. A gust of icy wind pushed down upon her and cut through her cloak, which she had forgetfully left untied. This she regretted as she shivered and pulled the lambskin close to her. It was growing colder as twilight approached and the dark shadows of the evening were lengthening. In the distance, along the line of trees that traced the left side of the road, the form of a russet, wooden stable, with a tiled roof, emerged, getting larger as they drew nearer. On the right side of the path, opposite the stable, the thicket of tall pines and brush came to an abrupt stop and blocked the view. From the gritty scent of the air, she could make an educated guess as to what lay beyond it and she would more than likely be right.
The road ended at the stable entrance, where Chalice dismounted and led Sunny inside to escape the windy chill. The hall of the stable gave access to the horse stalls, four on each side, a tack room in the back, and a hayloft above it with an attached stepladder on the right side. Behind the stepladder was a door that led out of the back of the stable to the trees behind it. Along the hallway, two posts supported the center beam of the roof. Chalice led sunny inside and tied his reins to a hook protruding from one of the posts. She undid the girth strapped around his rib cage, to relieve him of his burden. After placing the saddle on the wooden saddle horse in the tack room and hooking her bags on the wall, she led him into one of the back stalls and removed his bridle and bit. Tossing him a couple flakes of alfalfa from the loft, and setting a large bucket of water in the corner, she closed the stall door and latched it. When she returned to the tack room to exchange the bridle for her bags, she noticed a large cupboard in the left-hand corner, on the ground. Interesting place for a cupboard, she thought as she tossed the bags over her shoulder. On her way back, Sunny stuck his head over the stall door as if to say: “You’re leaving me?!?” 
She stroked his muzzle and said: “I’m just going to be in the house. We can rest for now, boy. Have a good night.” A deep, throaty grumble told her that he understood and his head disappeared behind the stall door. Then she left the stable, gathering an oil lamp hanging from a hook beside the exit, and closed the doors behind her.
Outside she had a full view of what had been blocked by the large copse of trees. In front of her lay a large fenced and gated area of farm animals tucked away safely in their pens. Beyond that sprawled hectares of crop fields and orchards, which were watered by an irrigation system that she had never seen before. It was constructed of what appeared to be pipes, of a fireclay material, that extended from the river to the cultivated ground. A small vineyard grew behind an enormous storage barn that sat side-by-side with the house, along the waterfront. Between the two structures was a display of rustic carts and wagons for transporting goods. Behind them, a long, sturdy, wooden ramp stretched deep into the water and supported a huge waterwheel that rotated steadily by the force of the river current catching the wheel’s palettes. From a large, wooden box that grew out of the ramp, next to the wheel, ran two sets of thin pipelines, one set extending to the house, the other to the barn.
Walking along the path of hard-packed dirt, with the rust-colored fence on her right side, she could see another, larger pier, made for boat docking, which lay a small distance ahead. There, a large ferry was docked on the right side of the pier. In the far distance, on the other side of the Canterine, stretched more crop-filled fields that were tended by farmers in the area. There were quite a few farms scattered around Branbury, but none of them, it seemed, paraded a waterwheel or other innovative farm equipment like that of the Maehbecks. This farm employed tools unlike any she had ever seen.
As she made her way toward the pier, she noted tracks in the dirt that looked fairly new. That’s a good sign, she thought. Then, without warning, she felt strangely unreal. There was a stubborn, tingling sensation on the back of her neck. A screech pierced the air and she spun. SWOOSH. A red falcon had suddenly abandoned its perch atop the highest branch of the nearest pine and was gliding down swiftly in her direction. She could see malice in its crimson eyes as it neared. She carefully set down the lantern and her bags to poise for an attack. Fortunately, if that had been the bird’s original intention, it quickly changed its mind, leveled its flight and soared out toward the waterfront above the pier, and then east along the river. 
Seriously?! A falcon?! Did that really happen? she asked herself. Not only were falcons not native to the area, they weren’t red either. Come to think of it, she had never seen a red falcon before. She had never even heard of one. Not in school or even during her evening firesides with Papa. Where did it come from? she wondered as she moved closer to the river.
Walking onto the pier, she felt the boards creak beneath the weight of her footsteps. It seemed to be made of the same type of wood as the structures nearby, but much older, as if it had been built ages before the farm. At the end of the pier, she set aside her load and removed the water skin from her bag. As she bent low and opened the flask, she caught movement to the left out of the corner of her eye. A torn strip of black cloth swayed from a splinter in the wood that supported a bollard. A mooring rope, which was still tied to the bollard, floated in the water, trailing eastward with the current. It appeared as if someone had cut the line from a vessel that had docked here instead of undoing the knot. Had a ship been here recently? she wondered.
After replenishing her water supply, she made her way back to the front yard of the house. Sturdy and strong, the house was built to endure like most everything she had seen on the farm. Two levels, with small windows on all sides, it sat boldly along the waterfront, daring the elements to challenge the safe haven it provided for its inhabitants. It was the same russet color as the barn and the stable and it greeted its visitors with a large, enclosed porch. It was adorned with floral arrangements that she took to be the work of Mrs. Maehbeck. The roof displayed tightly fitted shingles that shielded the floors below, and its edges supported eaves that provided shade for the windows. Additional shade came from the willow trees that lined the sides and front of the home, whose protective branches draped all areas of the building. The porch steps lead to the front door, on whose left side sat two wooden rocking chairs and a small drink table between them. On the right side lay an open barrel of firewood, freshly cut given the condition of the axe that was propped up against the side of the house behind it. This gave her some encouragement. It was another sign that someone was there.
Placing her foot on the first porch step, she noted that the front door was slightly ajar. At that point she also realized that not only was there no light glowing from inside, which there would have been by this time if someone was home, but also, no one had come out of the house yet to greet her. This was odd because surely they would have seen her by now. She ascended the steps, halting just short of the door, and moved to set down her bags and the lamp on the small porch table. Stamping down a shiver, she buttoned her lambskin to the collar and pulled up the hood to keep her head and neck warm. She rustled inside her bag for her flint and steel and lit the lantern. Proceeding to the door, she tapped lightly. 
“Hello? Is anyone home?” she called. Nothing. She was growing very alert now. Her imagination had gotten the better of her and she thought about what could be inside. She shuddered. She was afraid that inside lay the Maehbecks, either hurt, or worse. She told herself, however, that the house was, more likely, just abandoned, like the village had been, so she plucked up her courage and proceeded to enter.
The inside was as cold as the outside and yet still held the feel, warmth and comfort of a country cottage home. It was modest, like those found in the outskirts of Canton. She stepped in to what appeared to be two large, open rooms that were separated by a hallway to the kitchen in the back of the house. All of the windows were decorated with cotton drapes that were gathered and bunched in the middle and tucked to the side to allow light into the house. The room on her right side was apparently the sitting room. In it sat two polished wooden settees, situated against the walls, adjacent to each other, and a large low table in front of them. To the left of one of the settees was a doorway that led to the other rooms of the house. What caught her eye, though, were the standlamps next to the loveseats. They weren’t oil lamps. In fact, she had no idea of which type they were, or how they produced light, but it was obvious that they were lamps. She glanced toward the wall separating the sitting room and kitchen. It was adorned with shelves filled with hand-crafted goods such as miniature sailboats, pots, vases, small figurines and the like. This was definitely a family of carpenters and craftsmen, she thought. To her left lay another set of polished rocking chairs and a small drink table. They were set between the window, opening out into the front yard, and an enormous fireplace and chimney, worked in what appeared to be sandstone that jutted out from the wall. It was tall enough to walk underneath and was supported by columns of sandstone brick on both sides. In the grill, on the hearth, lay freshly cut firewood, ready to be lit under a large, black pot that was hanging from a spit on a rotisserie. In between the back side of the hearth and the back window to the waterfront yard, stood a wooden kitchen table and four chairs. The kitchen lay on the other side of the decorated wall and was blocked from full view.
Chalice moved further in, stepping onto a homemade rug that she hadn’t noticed at first. The rug was thick and patterned in such a way that it must have taken its maker a long time to weave. It was beautiful and carpeted almost the entire room. The wooden floor was clean but tired, worn from the multitude of footsteps, which had trodden on it throughout the years. She glanced around furtively for any sign of movement. She moved carefully, checking the surfaces of the tables, chairs, or even the floor. It was possible that they had left a note in case they had either been expecting her or wanted to leave a last message. She found nothing. 
When she reached the kitchen, she stood in awe of what she saw, not because she discovered the answer to her questions about the village, but because she had never seen a kitchen like this one before. In the middle of the floor stood a large worktable with hooks above it for hanging kitchen utensils. Next to it sat a large, wood-burning oven, worked in cast iron and black as night. Each wall was given to drawers and cupboards made of finely polished sequoia in which, she assumed, all the kitchenware could be found. Below the kitchen window, looking out onto the waterfront, was a wooden countertop for preparing meals. A portion of it was inlaid with three metallic wash bins, each of which sprouted a spout above, which she assumed provided water for washing. But how? she wondered. To the right of the countertop, in the kitchen corner, protruded a tall, wooden cupboard that gave off a slight but steady humming sound. She didn’t dare touch or go near it. She was not sure what it was. In any case, she saw nothing that could be construed as a message left for her, so she decided to return to the sitting room and explore the other areas of the house.
Inside the sitting room doorway, a long hallway stretched from the front to the back of the house. At the end of the hallway was a staircase that led to the second floor, where she assumed the bedchambers could be found. Most two-level country homes were designed this way. Before the staircase, to the right, the door to a washroom was cracked open and the edge of a washtub was visible. The doorway in front of her was wide open and led to a long room that appeared to be the study, at the end of which sat a large writing desk in front of a window that faced the barn. The two walls on either side of the room were entirely given to bookshelves, from the top to the bottom. Each wall offered a sliding ladder that gave access to whichever shelf a person needed to reach. She entered carefully and walked the length of the room, examining everything the light from her lantern touched. It was almost full dark and she was feeling very alone in this big, empty house. 
When she reached the desk, she carefully set the lantern down and turned to examine the books to her left. She was just about to reach for one, when she heard the creak of wood and froze. She realized, with a sudden jolt of adrenaline, that she was not alone. At that moment, she could sense a presence just a few steps outside the door to the study. She waited, continuing to peruse the bookshelf, feigning not to notice that anyone was there. Whoever it was, was attempting to be quiet, but it wasn’t quiet enough for her acute hearing. She could feel the presence getting closer … closer … just behind her now. As soon as she saw two enormous, male arms attempting to envelope her, she moved like lightning. Dropping her whole body toward the floor, and seizing the side of the bookshelf for support, she delivered a firm kick to his middle with her legs. By the sound of it, the jolt not only knocked the breath out of him, but also sent him flying across the room, to collide with the opposing bookshelf and fall crashing to the floor. Surprisingly the bookshelf held up fairly well. It only lost one thick book off the top shelf, that fell, unfortunately, right on top of the intruder’s head, bounced off and landed on the floor next to him. At this point, she regretted having delivered him such a hard blow for he was young and incredibly handsome, with fine, chestnut hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was maybe a few years older than she, strong, tall, and sturdy. He wore modest attire, that of a farmer or a trapper—- soft leather boots, light brown britches, a white cotton shirt, and a thick leather hunting coat. By his appearance, it was plain that he was a peaceful villager — large maybe, but harmless all the same. He looked up at her with an expression of pure astonishment on his face.
“Who … who are you?” he asked breathlessly.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it isn’t wise to sneak up on a Cantonese?” she said as she pulled back her hood and lowered a hand to help him up.
“A Cantonese?” he asked as he took her hand and pulled himself up, still gaping at her as if he couldn’t believe that he had just been sent hurtling across the room by someone so much smaller than him. “You don’t look Cantonese,” he said. It was true, the Cantonese were usually dark in hair and complexion and she was exceedingly fair.
“Yeah, I hear that all the time but I was born and raised there. It’s the truth. I grew up with my Grandfather, Sebastian, and my Grandmother, Naelli. I don’t remember my mother and know virtually nothing of the rest of my family.” As she said this, she noticed a look of recognition in his eyes.
“Chalice? Your family owns the old Inn and Winery on Canton Run, right?” She cocked her head in surprise and nodded. He continued: “I thought you were one of the Lost Ones. I couldn’t tell with your hood up. Wow, you have really gotten a lot bigger since the last time I saw you … and a lot stronger too,” he said as he rubbed his shoulder, hunched over slightly, with a pained expression.
“I’m sorry for that,” she said, gesturing toward his shoulder. “I don’t know my own strength sometimes.” 
He shrugged it off as if to tell her not to worry about it. “Well, I learned my lesson, didn’t I? I’m never going to try that again.”
She smiled and eyed him curiously. “You say you’ve seen me. Have we met before?”
“You don’t remember?” he asked with a thoughtful frown. “Ghost-in-the-Graveyard, in the wine cellar of the Inn? You cheated all the time.” He laughed. “You really don’t remember?” Sighing, he said: “Ah well, you were pretty young then.”
“Oh my gosh, no, I do remember!” she exclaimed, as the memory of it suddenly came rushing back to her. “Jeremiah?!” He nodded. “Jeremiah Maehbeck! How could I have forgotten?!?”




Chapter 3
The Delphaline

She couldn’t believe she had forgotten him. They had been inseparable during the three years he stayed with her and her grandparents at the inn. She remembered the words of Grandma Naelli: Those two are always together. You can never find one without the other. She should have at least recognized him by his eyes. He had the same eyes. Of course, everything else had changed quite a bit. Time had done its job.
“Well, last time you saw me was about nine years ago, so you were pretty young.” He paused. “Well, we both were,” he added, still massaging his shoulder.
She suddenly felt a pang of guilt for hurting him. “I’m sorry, Jeremiah, I didn’t mean to kick you so hard. It’s just that …” She paused, trying to find the right words. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but things around Branbury aren’t exactly normal at the moment.”
“Really?!?” he said wryly. “What gave you that impression?” 
She smiled at him and suddenly felt a wave of soothing relief inside her, partly because she wasn’t alone anymore, but mostly because it was him. He was so tall and handsome now. It was amazing. Nine years had passed and yet it was almost like yesterday they had been together on the banks of the Créonar with Kirna and Tycho, in their swimsuits, eating the tomato and cheese sandwiches that Grandma Naelli had tucked into her lunch basket. 
“I’m so glad you’re here! You are a sight for sore eyes. You have no idea. I have so much to tell you.” 
He read the expression on her face and could tell that she had been through something trying. “Here,” he said softly, holding out his arm to put around her. “It’s cold. Let’s go make a fire and relax a bit. We can talk about it over some food and you can tell me what you’re doing here.”
She let him hold her as he grabbed the lantern and they walked out of the room. “I just returned last night from a hunting trip in the mountains, so I’ve got some small game in the ice box that I can throw into a stew.”
“Ice box?” she inquired, with sudden curiosity, as the image of the strange contraptions she had seen in the kitchen formed in her mind. She looked up at him and then, without warning, found herself falling to the floor, only to be halted halfway down thanks to his huge arms. She was lucky he had grown into such a strapping guy. As he pulled her to her feet, she glanced back at what had caused her to stumble and saw the fallen book sprawled out across the floor, its pages bent underneath its weight. She drew back slightly to collect it.
“The Delphaline,” she said, reading the title and brushing dust off the front cover. Brown and bound in tough leather, but extremely old, with inscriptions and symbols etched across the front and back, the book held the appearance of a time-worn relic. “This looks interesting.”
“Oh yeah,” he said affectionately, holding the lantern closer to the cover. “My mom used to read me stories from this book when I was little. It must have been on the top shelf, out of sight all this time. I thought we had lost it.”
“It looks like a collectible. It’s a storybook?” Chalice asked as they made their way toward the hearth.
“Yeah, from what I remember.” He looked toward the front door that was still wide open. “Are those your saddlebags outside? I noticed them on my way in,” he inquired as he placed the lantern in the middle of the kitchen table. Chalice nodded and sat down near the light to examine the book. The sun had set and it was full dark. Jeremiah stepped out and returned with the bags, placing them on the kitchen table. “Brrr, it’s cold! I’ll light a fire first.” Reaching for the flint, steel, and oil on the mantle, he said: “Okay, Chalice, so what is your visit here all about? Did you come all this way by yourself?!?”
Setting the book in front of her, she began recounting, in lengthy detail, the story of her life during the past few months — about the attack on Canton, Papa’s instructions, the Chinuk and other events along the trail to Branbury. After lighting the hearth, which began to give off heat that melted the chill, Jeremiah walked back into the kitchen and flipped a switch on the wall. A small lantern hanging from the ceiling, that she hadn’t noticed before, began to glow and flooded the house with soft light. Chalice gaped at it as Jeremiah threw himself into dinner preparations, cleaning and cutting. Recovering from her stupor, she continued to recite her tale and he listened closely. As she spoke, she could see that he was deliberating intently over something.
At this point, the kitchen was becoming very warm, so Chalice pulled off her cloak and laid it back on the chair, saying: “… and so finally I end up here, at your house, hoping to find someone and you come in and scare me half to death and … what is it? You’ve got that look.” It was a look that she knew well despite the years that had passed. 
“It’s just strange, that’s all. Before I left on my hunting trip, everything was fine. I had only been gone a week and when I returned, everyone was gone without a trace, like you said. The animals needed to be tended badly, so after I did that, I decided to take Banner over the hills to the farms in the periphery. They were in the same condition — abandoned. So I just let the animals loose. I didn’t know what else to do.” A lock of his dark hair fell into his eyes as he chopped vegetables on the wooden cutting board. She examined his face as he spoke. It was tanned and chiseled in perfect form. The muscles in his cheek flexed as he worked. It was strange for her to see such a large person in the kitchen. She was amazed that he knew how to cook. Most of the young men in her village didn’t even go near the kitchen unless it was time to eat.
“The strange thing is,” he went on. “I saw no one pass through the mountain when I was hunting, which makes me think they left by boat … but what boats? We don’t have any here that are big enough to carry off an entire village.” He looked up at her seriously. “In any case, you put my story and your story together and there has to be a connection. I just want to know what my dad had to give you. He never mentioned anything about it.”
She moved back a little from his penetrating stare. She remembered that look. Those dark, intelligent eyes always burrowed into her when he was in deep thought. Jeremiah was the strong, silent type, and he was also a thinker. He was always one to analyze everything before coming to a conclusion. Hoping he didn’t notice her moment of weakness, she bent down pretending to scratch her ankle. She thought that she had played it off pretty well.
“Uh, yeah, I’d like to know that too,” she quipped. “I think the King’s men are looking for something, and whatever it is, that may have something to do with it. I knew Papa was sending me to do something important. Smart, actually, because who would suspect a young woman from a small village. Anyhow, speaking of boats, have you been out to the dock recently?” she asked.
“No, why?”
She told him about what she had seen on the pier while filling her water skin and he nodded. “That has to be it then. Which means that, more than likely, they were captured rather than escaped. I don’t think anyone is coming back anytime soon though.” He suddenly looked very troubled as he wiped perspiration from his brow with the front of his arm.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“Just worried. Dar’Maalda isn’t one to show too much mercy.”
“I know how you feel.” She could feel his pain. Tears had blurred her vision as she explained to him about the last time she had seen Papa and what he had said to her. She was doing well, on her journey, keeping it out of her mind, but now the reality came crashing down on her with a terrible force. Growing up, they were not allowed to speak about the King, but the impression Chalice had of him was that he wasn’t someone you wanted to cross. “Is there anything I can do to help you in the kitchen?”
“No thanks,” he replied with a subtle shake of his head. “I’ll be done here in a minute. Just relax, Chalice. You’ve had it rougher than I have. Read that book if you want. It might help you get your mind off of things. Supper should be ready soon.” He scooped up a pile of chopped carrots he had just finished and dropped them into a large bowl. “As soon as I get everything into the cauldron, I’ll sit down with you and take a look at that Chinukan notebook you found, just to see if I can decipher something from it.” He looked up and when he saw the incredulous look on her face, he said with a smile: “My dad taught me how to read Chinukan.”
“Oh … right. How does he know? The Chinuka have been secluded since the Second War of the Realm.”
Reaching into the “humming” cupboard that Chalice had noticed before, he removed two pitchers of what looked like fresh cream and water. Chalice noted that the inside of the tall cupboard was not wooden but metallic, like the wash bins to the left of it. “My dad knows a lot about a lot,” he said as he poured the contents of the pitchers into the large bowl on the workbench and stirred it. “He and my mom and a few others are part of some kind of secret society and they seem to know things that others don’t. I don’t know how and I’m not really supposed to talk about it, but he said I will be able to learn when I come of age, that is, when I turn twenty-one next month.”
“Weird! Is that how you have so many of these strange instruments in your house? Did he build them?”
“Yep,” he said with a proud smile. “My dad and my mom. They both did.”
“Hmmm … I thought maybe your dad had Terravailian ability or something.” She watched him as he moved to one of the cupboards and pulled out two jars of herbs.
“No, unfortunately my parents are not blessed with the gifts of the Terravail,” he said, sprinkling the herbs into the contents of the bowl.
“You are different. Not many of the Naeon would see that as a bad thing. Your family doesn’t share the same prejudice as the rest, I see.”
“No, we don’t. And neither does yours, if I remember correctly.”
“That’s right. No, we don’t either.” She paused, watching him stir the ingredients in the bowl, and then said: “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“How is that you know how to cook?”
“That’s a bit of a non-sequitur, isn’t it, Chalice?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.
“No … well yeah, but it’s just that, in Canton, young men usually don’t do the cooking. Is it different here?”
“No, it’s the same,” he replied with a crooked smile. “I just learned because I go hunting so often in the mountains. I’ve had to learn how to make my own meals out there in the sticks. It was something my mom encouraged even when I was home. So I have cooked many meals in my life.”
 “Well, that’s great ‘cause I have no idea how to cook. It’s nice to know one of us does,” she said happily.
He grinned and poured the contents of the bowl into the large, black iron cauldron. “You’re so funny, Chalice.”
Lowering her head, she flipped open the front cover of the book in front of her. It was the title page that displayed the title in large calligraphy. Just below it, was written a small segment of prose, in both the language of old, and right next to that, the translation, in the language of the New Millennium. It read:

Every child has a story
Every child is given a way
And the freedom to choose
The path life will take

Interesting, she thought as she flipped the page to the table of contents. The pages were old and browning along the edges and they crackled when she turned them. Immediately she recognized the title of the first entry: Taisse D’Avie. “The Cup of Life,” she said brightly. “I know this story. Papa told it to me.” Silently, she read the others that followed down the list: Dar’Bruuqua ae Iel Naezzi, Paelianna Iel Aelia D’Avaria, Guiere Priema Del Naeo’Gaea. 
“Oh yeah, I remember that one too. That was one of my favorites,” Jeremiah replied as he placed the pot over the fire.
“Do you believe in the legend?” she asked him.
He frowned. “Well, I think it’s a good story. I kind of think people are easily excitable and like to believe in these sorts of things, legends and the like. It gives them something to do.” He took a seat at the table and leaned over to peek at the page. “Oh yeah, and Paelianna. That’s another favorite. It’s about a queen who dies to save her people. It’s a great story. A bit sad, though.” He glanced around the table. “Okay … let’s see about this Chinukan book. Can I?” he asked, gesturing toward her bags.
She looked up. “Oh, yeah, sure.” She hadn’t really been paying attention to his last remark as she turned the pages and examined the first story. It read a few pages long, and like the poem before it, was written in both languages. At the end, on the bottom of the third page, was the name, Mireille Shantile Del’Portali, with a small inscription set to the right of it. The small mark was an olive branch, which she remembered symbolized the moral of the story: forgiveness. Papa had taught her that. Papa, where are you now? she wondered. The image of him formed in her mind. She listened to the crackling fire sizzle and pop and smelled the rich herbal scent of thyme and rosemary that drifted from the stew on the hearth. She pictured Papa in his rocking chair, from her view on the lambskin rug, watching him light his pipe. She could remember the sweet smell of tobacco and the aromas of Grandma Naelli’s kitchen. She felt the warmth of the flames as they lit up his face. He puffed rings of smoke and began the tale …
“Iel Taisse D’Avie. It means the cup of life. It can also be translated as the cup of power. Avie means power or life or life force in Angaulic. This story, true or not, is a powerful one and is also one from which we can take great instruction. It is a story about a little girl who lived ages ago, before the races of the New Millennium existed. It was a time during the Ice Age, when people still dwelt underground. The little girl was named Mireille Shantile Del’Portali, but everyone called her Shantile. She was eight years of age and her baby brother four. She was a young but wise soul who loved her brother. She loved her parents as well but she found them to be selfish, superficial, and obsessed with things of material wealth. Of course, her family was not rich by any means and the only item of value they owned was a golden goblet that was an heirloom passed down on her mother’s side of the family. It was her mother’s prized possession, very valuable and beautiful. It was unique in its shape and adorned with engravings of olive branches along the edge. Her mother kept it locked in an antique cabinet in the sitting room where all could view it.”
He puffed a ring of smoke and continued: “So it happened one day that her little brother fell very ill. As time passed and it seemed he would not recover, she pleaded with her mother to sell the goblet so that they could afford to take him to the Healer for treatment. Her mother refused. Believing he would improve on his own, she could not relinquish the only valuable possession they owned. She was wrong and the little boy died. Shantile was so heartbroken and bitter that one night she crept from her room, stole the key to the cabinet, and hid the cup in a place where no one would find it. When her mother realized the cup was missing, she believed that someone had stolen it and started a great search throughout the city. Friends and family joined in but it was never found. Eventually they tired of it and gave up. Shantile’s mother was so distraught over losing both the goblet and her son within the same week, that she locked herself in her bedchambers for a month. When she finally came out of her room, she was a different person. During her time in seclusion, she came to realize what was so obvious to Shantile. What her mother learned was that her family was the most important gift in her life. Shantile found it in herself to forgive her mother but never confessed that she had hid the cup and, over time, eventually forgot where it was.”
“Now, there are those who think that the story is just a fable and there are those who believe that it is a true story about a little girl who actually existed. Needless to say, there have been many who have gone looking for the cup but have searched in vain, which is why most do not believe in it as a true story. However, for those who do believe, the legend says that the cup is still out there, somewhere, overflowing with the water of avie, or the water of life, and whoever drinks from it will find eternal life, or in some versions of the story, will be healed from sickness or even death. There is a catch though. He or she who drinks from the cup must be pure of heart for the water to work its magic. Another interesting note about the legend is that it also says that Shantile and the cup would be reunited. And this makes no sense as the story ends with her living happily ever after, never finding the cup again, a direct contradiction. So it’s up to each individual to believe what he or she will. You can accept the results of years of fruitless research, or you can believe in a legend that doesn’t make any sense.”
“What do you believe Papa? Have you ever gone looking for it?” Chalice asked.
“To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought and I’ve never gone looking for it. I am not a Searcher. The truth of it doesn’t matter to me and I certainly don’t care about escaping death. Death will eventually come to all of us in due time. What matters to me is the message. Did you understand the lesson of the story?”
“Um, I think so. What was it again?”
He chuckled and said: “Riches and an eternal life don’t bring you true happiness. It’s the time you share with those around you while you have it, improving their lives and helping others. That’s what brings you joy. Many people don’t understand this truth in life and so spend it foolishly searching for precisely those things that make them miserable. It can be tragic, in fact. Just remember that, beautiful Chalice.” And she did. And she never forgot what he taught her that night. She had to roll her eyes though. He always called her beautiful Chalice. She wished he wouldn’t, especially in front of her friends. It was embarrassing.
“CHAINBRIDGE!” Jeremiah exclaimed.
Chalice snapped out of her reverie and raised her head. “Um, huh? What’s that?” she said stupidly.
“That’s where they went. That’s where the King’s men took them. Chainbridge.”
“Isn’t that the huge stone fortress in Culmanoq with the great …”
“Chain bridge. Yep, that’s the one.”
“How do you know that’s where they went? Is it in the notebook?”
He nodded, glancing back down at the book. “Yeah, basically, if I’m reading it correctly. Apparently the Chinuk you met in the forest witnessed the whole event from the treetops. Here, look at this sequence of letters.” He directed her to it with his forefinger. “This means bridge, or arch, and this one, to the right of it, means chain, or metal string. Chinukan adjectives mostly go to the right of the object being described.” He looked at her, his expression serious. “We were right though. They took the villagers by ship and not just one, but several. He describes the King’s men as wearing chain mail and black cloaks. Hmmm, that would be the Draaquans, if I am guessing correctly. He also mentions the Red Flame of Maalda, both marking the flags on the ships and the leader’s breastplate sigil. I think I know who that is too. I hope I’m wrong, but if I’m not, then these men are under direct orders from the King himself and that’s not good.” Jeremiah paused in thought and then continued: “Although, he writes that, from his view, no one was harmed, which is a relief. You know, this little creature is amazing. It’s incredible that he understood what the men were saying.”
“How do you know it’s a He?”
He flipped to the front page of the notebook and gestured toward what was written. “This says, Property of Master Bunejab Bea. I’m translating the name according to the sounds of the letters. Of course, it’s still not pronouncing it correctly though. We could never actually say it correctly, but we can get close.” Chalice raised an eyebrow and he said: “Okay, let me explain. Do you know why people can’t speak Chinukan?”
“No, why?”
“Because the Chinuka have an extra class of speech sound that we can’t articulate. It’s called the resonant. The other two are vowels and consonants, like we have, where one is created with the obstruction of the breath passage to make a hard sound and the other is not. The resonant, however, is produced from a muscular mechanism within the lower part of their throat. It’s mostly used in names, to create nuances of meaning, or to emphasize a word or a syllable within their language. The resonant is actually very fascinating to study. We don’t have the voluntary muscular capacity to speak with it ourselves but we can understand. It’s kind of like how horses can understand the meaning of something you are telling them but can’t recreate the sound you make with their mouths. All they can do is neigh, which would be similar to the vowel sounds we make. You see?”
“Uh … horses can understand words?” she asked wryly.
“No. I mean they can understand your meaning when you are speaking to them by the tone in your voice.”
“Uh … yeah … right. Whatever you say, Jeremiah. I’ll take your word for it. Fascinating stuff,” she said sarcastically.
He grinned. He knew she liked to tease him. Glancing back down again at the notebook, he said, “I think the Chinuka are really the most intelligent creatures in Naeo’Gaea but even given that, it’s still amazing that he could understand the men. The Chinuka have been cut off from us for so long. How could any of them know our language?”
“Well, you know their language.”
“Well, yeah, I suppose you’ve got a point there. In any case, if you look back to the previous pages,” he said as he flipped back to the front of the notebook, “he describes people and events in the village. Apparently, he sits in the trees and observes what goes on in the town, marking the pages with the time and date. He has even recorded some of my hunting excursions in here. It’s almost as if he is studying the village. That’s bizarre! That is really strange behavior for a Chinuk. A little creepy, actually.”
“Well, I knew he was nutty when I met him,” she quipped.
Jeremiah laughed. “Yes, certainly, but he did us a favor, though, didn’t he? Now we know what happened. And I also think I know why there were no tracks left behind.” He flipped to the page where the writing stopped, or in her view, where the scribbles and scrawls stopped. Compared to the other pages, the last page was filled with completely illegible handwriting, at least to her. “Here he describes an unnatural wind sweeping through the whole village and shaking the trees violently. I think that’s why.”
“But wind can’t erase tracks completely.”
“It can if it’s created for that purpose.” She looked a question at him and he said: “The King’s men are Terravailian.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. But why would they care to cover their tracks? That doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m not sure. In any case, if my parents are on that boat, then I want to go find them. If the people of my village are being taken to Chainbridge, it’s likely the people of Canton are there as well. Chainbridge is huge, big enough to house fifty villages like ours.”
“But if your parents and the others are on those ships, and my grandparents are in Chainbridge, along with all of the other Cantonese, then that probably means that the King has already gotten what he wanted.”
“Maybe, but we don’t really know what he is after, do we?”
“Well, yeah, you’re right. I agree that we can’t just stay here though. When do you want to leave?”
“As soon as we can. First light tomorrow if possible.”
The reality of what they were considering suddenly struck her like a rock. “It’s just the two of us, Jeremiah! How are we going to make any difference?”
“I have no idea but there’s got to be a way. In any case, I’m not going to let my family be subject to the King’s cruelty and I don’t really want to stick around here in case the King’s men come back. Maybe there is a way to sneak in and out of that place.” He paused and turned his head toward the fire. “You know, I think the stew is ready. Let’s eat and we can talk about it.”
“Alright,” Chalice conceded. She knew when he could be persuaded and she knew when he was beyond convincing. She set the table and Jeremiah served the stew with a silver ladle. As they sat down to eat, she pulled the bread from her bag and said: “Those are nice utensils. Where did you get them?” Splitting the bread, she turned to Jeremiah and proffered a portion.
“They were a wedding gift to my parents from Master Aubrey, our village silversmith. My dad and he were childhood buddies, kind of like me, Aemis and Tobias. They’re his sons.” Somberly, he dipped his bread into the stew and furrowed his brows. “I wonder what they are doing right now,” he said. 
They continued to discuss their plans as they finished the meal. They would make preparations before retiring to bed and leave first light the next day. The plan was set and she hoped it would work.
The stew was delicious. Chalice didn’t realize how ravenous she actually was until it was in front of her. She even went back for a second helping, which she usually never did, even when she was famished. She gave him a warm thank you and made sure to let him know what an excellent chef he was.
He smiled. “Thanks, Chalice. I usually don’t get that from my family, especially my brothers. They like to poke fun instead.”
“Well, that’s what brothers are for!” she teased and he frowned. “Seriously though, you are lucky to have them, you know,” she said.
He gave her a quirk of the eyebrow but he knew why she had said it. Regardless of his siblings’ banter, he would never want to trade places with her. He wondered about her family. Her grandparents had been strict about keeping silent on the matter. It was the only time he really ever witnessed Sebastian Pandretti be stern about something. It was strange. It was almost as if her family had disappeared off the face of Naeo’Gaea. At times, he felt very sorry for her.
“I’ll clean up and pack our things. If you’re tired, just rest,” he said as he noticed her yawn and stretch.
“OK, twist my arm.” She smiled and rose from the table to stoke the fire. “I think it needs more wood.” She disappeared out the front door and returned with a couple of solid blocks of split oaden. After placing them on the fiery heap, she snuggled into the rocking chair next to the hearth with her woolen blanket and the Delphaline. She slid off her soft, dark lambskin boots that matched her cloak and placed them to the side on the homemade rug. Then she began to read.
As she skimmed the pages, reading passages from the entries randomly, she noted that each was structured similarly. Although some of the stories were written in rhythmic, cryptic prose and others were verbose tales, chronicled with clarity and detail, each story was related in both languages and always finished with a name and a symbol at the bottom of the page. She wondered who had authored the book. “Who wrote these stories, do you know, Jeremiah? Was it a series of different authors or just one?”
“Of the Delphaline? Just one. I don’t know who it was though,” Jeremiah’s voice responded from the kitchen.
“That would make sense since the stories all seem to have the same layout. Although, there’s nothing on the cover or in the introductory pages that gives any information on it.” 
“Well, maybe there’s something in the back of the book. Did you check?”
“Checking …” she said in a singsong voice as she turned to the last page and gaped. She made a feeble attempt at a gasp but was unable to make a sound. She was struck by what she saw. She couldn’t move. Moments passed. She still couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe.
“Well … anything there?” she heard him ask, his voice seeming to echo in the far distance. “Chalice?” She immediately heard quickened footsteps from the kitchen and Jeremiah burst into the room. Registering the expression on her face, he asked: “You alright?”
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. She couldn’t believe her eyes. At the bottom of the page was, like all of the other entries in the book, a symbol and a name to the left of it. Above it was a short passage of lines and at the top, the title. As he moved toward the firelight, she showed him the page.
“Ray-chale-ya.”
“It’s pronounced Rye-kale-ya. You don’t know Angaulic, Jeremiah?” she asked.
“A little but not much. I never really had time to learn it.”
She motioned to the bottom of the page, to the symbol. He squinted to make sure he was seeing it correctly. “Isn’t that your birthmark, Chalice?” he asked. And it was. It was the mark of her birth and her pendant. Then he read the name, pronouncing it awkwardly. “Chalicia Maefeline Raie’Chaelia D’Ielieria.” With a inquiring look, he asked: “What does that mean?”
Staring down at the page in front of her with an expression of astonished incredulity, she spoke slowly. “It means …” she said as she glanced up and continued, the firelight dancing in her eyes, “Beautiful Chalice, True Princess of Ielieria.”




Chapter 4
The Raie’Chaelia

What is this book? Chalice’ thoughts raced. Every child has a story … And the freedom to choose … the Raie’Chaelia. She was sure there was a logical explanation for the passage. A coincidence maybe? She deliberated furiously as to what it could be. Finally she asked: “Are you sure this is just a book of stories, Jeremiah?”
“Fairly sure, I mean, at least I was. What else could it be?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just an odd coincidence.” Her eyes met his and they reflected the same thought back to her. It made her recall all those times they would arrive at the same thought, at the same time. More often than not, she could discern what he was thinking without a word being spoken. The years had not erased this familiarity that kindled the silent communication between them.
He glanced back toward the book. “Hmmm, sometimes I wonder if coincidences are really what they seem,” he said, scratching his chin in reflection. “You think this is talking about you, then?” 
“Well, no. I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know. We don’t know who the author is or when it was written, right? So the only reasonable conclusion I can come to is that this is either a mere coincidence, or this last entry was written recently, that is, within the last eighteen years or so, sometime after I was born, by someone who knows me and …”
She trailed off as she noticed Jeremiah gazing into the fire and shaking his head. “No, Chalice, that’s not possible.” And she knew that he was right. He had an authority in his voice when he was sure of something. He turned and gestured toward the Delphaline. “This book has been in my family since before I was born and it has never been edited. And I know that it’s the work of one author who lived a long time ago. That’s what my mom told me. She never said who authored it though. That’s all I know about it.”
She pulled away from his stare, straightened, and peered into the flames. “Okay, this is passing strange.” She paused in thought for a moment. “Maybe it’s a namesake,” she said.
“A namesake that just happens to have your birthmark in it? Hmmm … I don’t know about that. Here, what does the passage say?” he asked as he bent low to get a closer glimpse of the writing.
Chalice studied the page again and read the passage silently for a few moments. Then she said: “The New Millennium translation is here, right next to the old one. It’s very good actually. It appears to have the same meaning and rhythm as the verse in Angaulic.” She read the verse aloud for him:

Raie’Chaelia

A fateful spirit’s time shall come,
To be embodied as Fire’s Bane.
Born of the blood by one half,
Hidden from forces that reign.
A secret life and an open heart,
Travels west from an ancient chain.
Unveils stones of knowledge lost,
And returns Shae’Ielian to Quaine.
She who is first, finishes last,
For her life and death remain,
The legend of the Raie’Chaelia,
Beneath the fallen rain.

Chalicia Maefeline Raie’Chaelia D’Ielieria

“Let me see that book, Chalice,” he demanded, holding out his hand. She gave it to him and he studied it thoroughly.
“What is Shae’Ielian?” he asked.
“That means the Rightful King. Why? What do you think the verse is talking about?”
He paused for a second, looked at her sternly, and finally said: “I think that this is beyond coincidence, and if I’m right, it means that you and I are in a lot of danger. It’s a good thing we are leaving. I don’t think the King found the thing he was looking for. In fact, I don’t think it’s a thing at all. I think it’s a person, and I think that person is you.”
“That’s ridiculous!” she retorted, still determined to ignore what lay in the back of her mind.
“Yeah, but Chalice, it says here, Fire’s Bane.”
“So?”
“So what do you know about the King?”
“Well, not much actually,” she admitted.
“The King’s men call him the Fierain, which means the Fire. His full name is Lucce’Fierain Dar’Maalda, or the Firelight of Maalda.” Chalice nodded in recognition of the language and Jeremiah continued: “This passage is saying that this spirit, born of the blood, will become Fire’s Bane and return the Rightful King. And it describes a secret life and an open heart. That also fits you, Chalice. You have lived a sheltered life. You’ve even complained of it yourself. You also have a very open heart.” She scowled at him. “Well, you do and if this story is somehow telling the future and if he knows about it, it would make sense that he would be looking for you. If it’s true, then everything falls into place — everybody’s disappearance, the silence of your grandparents about your family, the attack on Canton and your grandfather’s instructions.” He paused and glanced down at the book, furrowing his brows. “Could this book be what my dad had to give you? I wonder.”
She couldn’t believe it. This is just a story. It isn’t real, she told herself. “But it can’t be!” she exclaimed stubbornly. “My grandparents aren’t related to the royal family. They are Naeon, not Terravailian. I have no royal blood in me. I’m sure of it.” 
“But you don’t know anything about the rest of your family, do you?” Looking into the fire, he said: “Although, it is true that when the last King disappeared, all of his children were captured and imprisoned. I think they still are. So, yeah, that part doesn’t make sense … unless it’s referring to Davinthore …” He paused in thought and looked at her questioningly. “Do you know about the disappearance of the last King? Do you know why so many in the Realm call Dar’Maalda the False King?”
“The Naie’Ielian?” she asked and he nodded. “I’ve heard people whisper it under their breath but, no, I don’t know the history. Papa didn’t allow us to talk about the King. He said it was because he didn’t want to draw negative attention to our family’s business.”
“Hmmm, I wonder.” He set the book on the drink table and made his way back to the kitchen. “You want some hot cider? I have some ready here.”
“Yeah, thanks!” she replied gratefully.
After a moment, he returned with two thick, steaming mugs. Setting hers next to the book and taking a seat in the other chair, he stretched out his feet, took a sip and continued: “Alright, I’ll tell you what I know. Keep in mind, this is not from my own memory, but my dad’s, because I was around two years old at the time. According to Father, the Realm hasn’t always been the dark and fearful place that it is today because it rightfully belongs to the Ielierian, the Royal Family, which is an unbroken family line that is old, almost ancient, actually. Before Dar’Maalda siezed power, the Realm existed in peace and harmony, or at least as close to it as anyone could get. The reason being that we lived under the rule of a good and just king. His name was Duquainois Bronaan D’Ielieria or, more commonly known as King Duquaine.” He paused for another sip and then continued: “Anyhow, it was around nineteen years ago that he suddenly disappeared and Dar’Maalda emerged as the new King. He isn’t the Rightful King though. If Duquaine had died, the throne would have passed to his younger brother, Davinthore, the next in line of the Ielierian, but it didn’t. A great battle was fought but Dar’Maalda and his army were too strong. They had a more powerful leader, better weapons, and were more skilled in the art of warfare. The Royal Legions, well, those still loyal to the royal family anyway, were crushed. The survivors retreated and haven’t been seen since.” Jeremiah rose to stoke the fire. “No one knows where they went just as no one knows what happened to Duquaine. Some think he is still alive. Father told me that they are still searching for him, in secret though, because Duquaine is the only one who is strong enough to challenge Dar’Maalda.”
Chalice blew onto the hot, steaming mug of cider and asked: “But why would they think he was alive? It seems to me that Dar’Maalda would have killed him if he was the only one strong enough to be a threat.”
Placing the iron fire stoker back onto its hook, he retook his seat. “You’re right but I don’t think he could. I think those close to the Royal Family had to swear a Terravailian oath of some kind. I don’t know the details about the oaths but I’m fairly certain they were protected by them. However, Duquaine could have died from something else, though, like an accident or an illness or something. That’s always possible and given that it’s been nineteen years and he hasn’t been seen, it seems likely.”
“What happened to Davinthore?”
“He lost the battle but was allowed to live on as Duque of Avielia. And that doesn’t make sense because usually no one in the Royal Family would live with that kind of humiliation. They are trained from birth to choose death over defeat. Many say that Davinthore isn’t very strong. I think that’s an understatement. Father said that he was surprised to learn that he was such a coward, too, given that Sir Darren perished along with his soldiers in the battle.”
“Sir Darren?”
“Sir Theodore Darren was the Terravailian battle lord of the Royal Legions. He was a great battle leader but unfortunately the final commands were given by Davinthore, who foolishly overthrew many of Darren’s decisions. So Sir Darren died on the battlefield because of Davinthore’s mistakes. That’s why we call it the Darrenfell Moor because that’s where Darren fell. You see?”
“Oh … interesting. I didn’t know that.” She thought the name sounded familiar. She remembered how she had passed south of the moor on her way to Branbury. Suddenly, something else occurred to her. “Well alright, if Davinthore is still alive and living in Avielia, then this passage here can’t be referring to him like you thought.”
“Why not?” he responded.
“Because, silly, you have to disappear first before you can be returned again. It says here: returns Shae’Ielian to Quaine. That translates to: returns the Rightful King to the gate. Whatever that means.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Then it can’t be him.” He sighed. “I don’t know who it’s talking about then. I don’t know what returning to the gate means either.” He peered into his cup rubbing his temple in dismay as if hoping it held the answer.
A few moments passed and Chalice asked: “You said something about the Royal Legions being divided during the battle. Why? What happened?”
“I’m not sure. I think it had something to do with Duquaine but that doesn’t seem right. From what I gather, he was generally revered by everyone. It seems more likely because of the incompetence of Davinthore.”
“And Duquaine’s children were captured and imprisoned after the battle?” 
Jeremiah nodded and took another draw from his cup. “Yeah, before the battle, in fact, and he couldn’t have had another child because the Queen died. So the verse in this book doesn’t make sense.”
“How did she die?”
“Good question. I don’t know the answer to that one either. There’s quite a bit I don’t know actually. I have a lot to ask my dad when we see him.” He suddenly slapped his forehead. “What am I saying?! You have a lot to ask my dad when we see him. I’m sure he will have the answers to all of this.”
She smiled at him warmly. “You seem so sure that we will succeed in finding them. Sometimes I wish I had your optimism.”
He shook his head. “Not seem. I am sure.”
“Well, I believe you then,” she responded. “You know, I was wondering, how does your dad know so much about the Royal Family? It’s a bit odd for a Naeoman living so far away from the capital.”
“Like I said, he knows a lot about a lot. I don’t know how he gets his information but I do know that it is correct. Rumors can twist original stories into fictional accounts but my dad always seems to have the facts about things.”
“How do you know?”
Jeremiah shrugged his shoulders. “He just does,” he said as he got up from the chair and placed his mug on the table. “I’m going to pack our things for tomorrow. We have an early start, and an uncertain journey ahead, so it’s probably a good idea to get some rest tonight.” He motioned back toward the study. “If you want to take a bath …”
“I know where the washroom is,” she interrupted him. “I’ll find my way, thanks.” Placing her mug next to his, she slowly rose from her chair and stretched. The thought of a warm bath after her journey to loosen the kinks and knots in her muscles appeased her. She could hear him rummaging around in the kitchen as she made her way toward the study. She assumed he was getting the water for the tub. 
When she pushed open the door to the washroom, she found everything she needed. A wide, porcelain tub sat to the left of the door and two soft, plush, wash towels hung on a silver rack next to the mirror, which stood to her right, behind a bench that supported a large porcelain wash bin. The opposite wall opened to a small passageway that led to a sort of indoor privy, which she thought was odd. She stepped in and shut the door behind her. A chill ran up her legs as her feet met the coolness of the marble floor. She unbuttoned her riding dress and peeled it off. Draping it over the clothes stand in the corner next to the towel rack, she turned and noticed the same kind of spouts above the tub as above the metal wash bins that she had seen in the kitchen. She had a guess as to what they were but decided to ask Jeremiah anyway. She suddenly realized how unclothed she felt standing there in her short, blue silk slip. Goose bumps decorated her arms as she shivered. It was colder at this end of the house. She glanced at herself in the mirror. Her dark, copper-colored birthmark caught her eye and she turned her right shoulder toward the mirror as she stroked her thumb across it. What is it? What does this mark mean? Does it have a meaning? she wondered. Telling herself not to think about it, she turned and opened the door to call for Jeremiah.
“Jer …” As soon as she looked up, she found that he was right there in front of her. “Oh, there you are. I …” She cut short as she noticed his face turn a bright crimson color. There was long, heavy pause.
“I … I thought you would need help with the tub,” he said awkwardly as he looked around the washroom behind her. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” He darted up the staircase and returned with a long, woolen robe that he handed to her. “Here, this is my mom’s. It should keep you warm.”
“Thanks!” she said happily as she slipped it on. “Yeah, I was just about to call for you to help me with this. What are these things for?” She motioned toward the spouts above the tub.
“The left is for hot water and the other is for cold.”
“You mean this is how you fill the tub with water? I thought so.”
“Yeah, here I’ll show you.” He turned the handle of the left spout and she felt the water. It was hot to her touch. She pulled her hand back quickly and gaped. Then she turned the other handle and a strong flow of cool water poured out into the tub.
“Here, you also need to place this in the drain,” he said as he grabbed a marble stopper and plugged the hole on the bottom.
“That’s incredible. How does it work? Where does the water go when you’re done?”
“I’m not sure of the details but I know that my father built a system that can harness the force of the current from the river to make certain things work around here. My mom is the one who shaped the pipes that channel the river water to and from the house. Acqualin is what they call it. Before the water reaches the house, it is filtered and purified. After it drains out of the tub, it goes back into the river. It’s really ingenious. Someday my father will teach me.”
“So it’s cleaner water?” she asked and he nodded. “You know, I will have to refill my water skin.”
“I’ll do it when I get back to the kitchen. I have a couple more things to finish in there.”
“Thanks, Jeremiah.”
“Don’t mention it. Here is the soap for washing and the soda water for your teeth.” He motioned toward the bench in front of the mirror. “I should have everything packed for tomorrow by the time you’re done in the washroom. You can use my parents’ room tonight. It’s the first one on the left when you get to the top of the stairs.”
“Okay, good night.”
“Good night,” he said softly as he shut the washroom door behind him.
As soon as the tub was full and steamy hot, Chalice turned off the flows of both spouts, undressed, and eased herself into the relaxing warmth of the water. She could feel all her bodily soreness and tightness that the last few days had imposed upon her, wash away with the heat. She wished they could stay for more than just one night but Jeremiah was right. It might be true that they were in danger and, in any case, they needed to find the others. They had a perilous road ahead of them. She would need to pluck up her courage once again for the days ahead. She was beginning to tire of the road but for the moment, all she wanted to do was put it out of her mind, relax, and think of home.
When she was finished washing, she threw on her slip and robe, grabbed her riding dress, and found her way to the bedroom. The bed was soft and warm. She got in, curled up and before she knew it, found herself, once again, in front of the white marble stairwell.




Chapter 5
Flight into the Mountain

“Chalice … Chalice …”
Chalice opened her eyes and squinted, not recognizing the face in front of her. Jeremiah stood above her, nudging her shoulder. For just a moment, she had no idea where she was and then suddenly the memory of the night before came rushing back to her. She nodded, brushed the sleep from her eyes, and sat up in bed. He smiled at her. “Okay sleepy, time to get up and get ready. I woke you a little bit early. I know it takes you a few minutes to wake up,” he said as he left the room.
Still drowsy, she looked over toward the window. The day was just creeping in although it was still fairly dark outside. She realized then that the peak of Mt. Vaassa blocked much of the morning sun, looming over the Auramont Vale like a tower. She looked around the room and noticed that it was very large, with a soft, warm décor and plush carpets. The drapes were doubled sets made of white chiffon and dark cotton. They were pulled back to frame the window shutters, which lay open. It suddenly occurred to her that in her fatigue the night before, she had forgotten to shut them before going to bed. She felt a rush of gratitude when she saw her saddlebags and cloak lying on the flowered divan in the west corner of the room. Jeremiah must have brought them up, she thought. She was happy that they had been reunited. What would I have done without him? she thought silently to herself.
She pulled herself reluctantly from the blankets. She was stalling. She wanted to stay wrapped in their warmth. She loved to sleep in when she was in the luxury of a soft bed. Stretching, she made her way to the divan and groped in her bags for her other riding dress. She removed a darker blue, un-embroidered garment. Then she placed the dirty dress she had worn the day before into the bag. She looked down at the dark blue cotton in her hand. She liked this one. It was simpler and more plain but very comfortable and fit her curves to a perfection. She slipped it on, along with her boots and broach, and buttoned it up as she walked to the window on the north side of the room, next to the bed. She was on the last button when her fingers stopped moving. In between two willow trees, on the north side of the house, stood black sails. She moved closer to the window and glanced down toward the dock. At the end of the pier floated a huge brigantine. A flag was attached to a halyard on the mainmast. It was jet black and flashed a bright scarlet flame as it whipped in the wind.
“Jeremiah!” As soon as she had called for him, he burst into the room, breathless.
“Yeah, I know. I just saw it too.” He rushed to the window next to her. She opened it a crack to hear what was happening. Peering through the drooping branches of the tree, they saw two men lowering a wide plank onto the end of the pier from a tall hatch in the hull of the ship while two others were securing the hawsers onto the bollards. A large man dressed in a black cloak and mail strode casually down the plank onto the pier. He had the same sigil on his chest that was paraded on the ship’s flag. He turned and glanced up toward the others who were leading horses carefully down the plank. Jeremiah and Chalice remained as silent as they could be and listened. They could barely hear the faint words from the distance.
“Remember Ivan, no mistakes this time. The Fierain wants him alive,” the man in black shouted to the men. Him? Who are they looking for? Chalice wondered quietly as she glanced at Jeremiah. Just then a red falcon flew from the main mast and came to settle on the man’s outstretched arm.
“Hey! I know that bird. It tried to attack me yesterday when I was walking to the house,” Chalice said angrily. Apart from its color, she noticed that there was something unusual about the falcon, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
“We’ve got to get out of here, Chalice,” Jeremiah said as he bolted for the divan to collect her bags.
“I can fight!” Chalice was defiant. She did not want to run like a coward.
He shook his head and said firmly: “Not these guys. They are deadly and there are too many of them. Let’s go. Follow me.” He tossed her cloak to her and she knew that he was serious. She threw it on as they rushed out of the bedroom.
She stayed close behind him as they flew down the stairs, through the hallway, and out into the sitting room. He stopped abruptly right before the homemade rug that she had admired the day before. She wasn’t expecting this and crashed right into him at full speed. It was much like smashing into a brick wall.
“Here.” He handed her the saddlebags and picked up his own that were lying on the table, along with a large, thick rucksack that he threw over his shoulder, and a lantern. “Step back,” he said as he lifted up one end of the rug and folded the corner over. Underneath was a trap door with a latch carved into the wood. He clicked the latch and threw open the door, laying it back onto the rug flap. A series of steps descended downward, steeply, into the darkness.
“You go first, Chalice. Watch your step,” he said as he reached in his bags for his flint and steel to light the lantern. She descended in careful haste, holding onto the rail that was attached to the wall beside her. After many steps, she had to grope with her feet to find her way. She finally reached the bottom. It had an old, musty smell and she wondered if it was some sort of basement. Light from the lantern above flooded the wooden staircase and gave shape to the underground room. To her right, she could see a long corridor that stretched into darkness. She let go of the rail and looked up to see if Jeremiah was following. He was struggling to get through the narrow door.
“Throw me the bags, Jeremiah,” she said and he tossed hers down to her. She caught them and laid them to the side. He carried his own as he descended. Concerned about him falling, she positioned herself at the bottom of the steps. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he fell. He was much bigger than she was. At least she could cushion his fall if anything. Please don’t fall, Jeremiah, she thought to herself. She watched as he pulled the door, along with the rug flap, back into position and descended the first few steps. She noticed he was very sure-footed and careful, as if he had done this many times before.
“What is this passage? Where does it go?” she asked curiously.
He made his way to the floor and said: “You’ll see. Father built it in case we ever had unwelcome visitors along the river.” He stepped down onto the ground and collected his bags. Motioning toward the darkness, he said: “Follow me,” and took off at a full run. “We have had to use this corridor in the past. It comes in very handy.”
“You will have to tell me about that someday,” she panted as she scurried to keep up with him, running along the hallway, which wound around in different directions. It was dizzying. They passed a couple of staircases until finally careening around the last corner and arriving at the end. Finding themselves at the bottom of the last staircase, they ascended quickly. Jeremiah unhooked the latch of the small door at the top of the stairs and pushed it open. He set the lantern to the left outside of the door, along with his bags and rucksack and crawled out. When Chalice arrived at the opening, out of breath, she noticed immediately where they were. It was the stable where she had been the evening before. The low-lying cupboard, which she had thought was so strange, was actually a doorway to the underground path. She scrambled out and said in admiration: “I wondered about this cupboard yesterday when I arrived.”
They gathered the provisions they needed from the tack room, and in just a few short moments had the horses bridled and saddled. Chalice looked over and noticed Jeremiah’s leather belt that held a small pouch and sheath for his carving knife. She also noticed his yew bow and leather quiver strapped to his back. She saw that the arrows were fletched with greywing feathers. She knew he was an excellent archer and that he crafted his own tools. He had shown her how to make a bow and arrow when they were young. That must be how he hunts, she thought to herself. She turned then, quickly, and laid a hand on Sunny’s muzzle to silence him. He was excited to leave and let out a low grumble. She noticed that he had polished off all the food and water she had given him the night before. Stroking his neck, she said in a low voice: “Good boy. With what we got you in the village yesterday, that should hold you until tonight.”
“Chalice,” Jeremiah whispered and she looked over at him. “Quickly, this way.” Standing next to Banner, he motioned toward the door in the back of the tack room. Jeremiah’s horse was a beautiful, dark brown thoroughbred, taller and stronger than Sunny but not quite as nimble. Jeremiah had told her during dinner that the Maehbecks raised thoroughbred horses. They were racing horses and were very valuable. She wondered for a moment where the others were that would have filled the stalls. As quietly as they could, they led the horses through the door and out onto a small, narrow trail behind the stable. “This path will lead us into the mountain. The southern section leads to the Carion road. It meanders a bit though. It was originally a game trail. I blazed it during my trips into the mountain.”
“What’s the Carion road?”
“It’s the main route that leads to Branbury through the mountain. You probably used it on your way here.”
“Oh yeah. Well, I don’t know much about this area. It’s my first visit,” she said. So much for staying off the main roads, she told herself silently. She thought about her encounter with the Chinuk the day before. No wonder that little creature could find me so easily. “Has it always been called the Carion road? I didn’t see the name on the map I have but, then again, it’s an old map. It marked the trail as unknown.”
“Well, it was named fairly recently, when my dad was a kid. Back in the day, it was virtually unknown.” This new piece of information made her feel better.
They mounted and heeled the horses into a slow trot. He was right. The path led them back and forth so many times that she lost all sense of direction and had no idea where she was in relation to the stable. For that matter, she had no idea where she was in relation to the main road. In places, the horses had to slow to a fast walk because there was simply no room for speed. Chalice could feel a sense of overwhelming dread as it took them what seemed many hours to find the road. Finally, they emerged from the thicket onto the sloping surface of the Carion road. It was a few paces from the junction of the routes that led to the high passes, to Branbury, and around to the middle passes of the mountain, exactly where she had been the day before.
“We made it!” She sighed deeply, relieved. The relief lasted only for a moment, however, as they heard a faint sound of hoof beats down the slope, in the distance. 
“Great! This is just what we need!” Jeremiah said in frustration. “I thought we would have lost them. Apparently they are more persistent than I guessed. We’re going to have to run for it.”
Before he could heel his mount, however, Chalice grabbed his shoulder. “Jeremiah, we can hide up there!” she exclaimed, pointing to a high outcropping that lay on the right side of the path leading up to the high passes. The bedrock was sheer, sleek and grey, topped with thick vegetation.
“Good eye, Chalice!” They dismounted and stealthily led the horses to the top of the outcropping, behind the brush. It was perfect. They were completely hidden from the road. Suddenly, Chalice felt her skin prickle. She looked up, squinting in the near noonday sun and spotted the red falcon from the docks circling overhead, menacingly. Then she suddenly knew what was so peculiar about the bird. She glanced down to the ground below it and saw that the bird had no shadow.
“What the …?”
“What’s wrong?” Jeremiah asked and she pointed to the sky.
“That red falcon. I have been wondering what is so odd about it.” Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. “Okay, besides being red. It doesn’t have a shadow! Look!”
His eyes fell to the ground. “You’re right, Chalice. That is too weird!”
She was going to tell him to shoot it but he had already unlaced his bow from the strap on his back and was nocking arrow before she could get the words out. With a soft THUP, the arrow loosed and whistled through air. It flew right to its target but the falcon was deft and shot back the way it had come. Since the day before, Chalice had grown increasingly suspicious of the bird.
“I bet it’s going back to report our location.”
“How can it do that?”
“I don’t know but now that I think about it, after it saw me yesterday at the house, it flew out toward the sea and this morning, that ship arrived. You can’t tell me that that’s a coincidence. Besides which, how can it not have a shadow? I think we are dealing with things we don’t understand.”
“You’re probably right,” he admitted. 
“From now on, we’ll have to keep a close watch on the sky, especially since it will be impossible to spot from the ground.”
He nodded. Then, all of the sudden, he placed his finger over his mouth as a sign to be quiet. “You hear that?” he whispered.
She did. The riders that they had heard approaching on the trail arrived. Jeremiah tied their horses to a branch and crouched low into the underbrush. Chalice followed. Shimmying warily, they wriggled toward the edge of the outcropping where, still hidden from view, they could see the two men. The men had halted their horses at the crossroad. Both were large and dressed in black mail and cloaks. One was a touch thinner and younger than the other. Similar to Jeremiah, he had a bow and quiver strapped to his back.
“I heard something, Ronaan. Did you hear it?” he said. He spoke with a strange accent that she didn’t recognize.
“Yes, it came from up there.” Ronaan pointed to the outcropping where Chalice and Jeremiah were concealed. He had a deep, commanding voice with the same accent as the other and his hair was dark and streaked with whitish silver near the temples.
Chalice stayed very still. Please don’t come up here, she prayed.
“What do we do?” she whispered.
He turned to reply when suddenly, to their immediate right, something brown and furry tore out from the brush and flashed across the trail. It scampered to the top of the nearest oaden tree and disappeared in its leaves. The branches swished and swayed back and forth from the creature’s movements.
“Hey, that’s the Chinuk I saw yesterday!” she whispered excitedly.
They saw Ronaan turn his mount to leave. “It was just one of the mountain creatures, Rhys. Shoot it and let’s go. I’m sure he didn’t come this way.” Rhys loosed an arrow into the treetop and the leaves stopped rustling. Satisfied, the two men resumed their search down the trail, back toward Branbury. 
“No!” Chalice felt her heart sink. She hadn’t known the little creature but it saddened her to think that he died because he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Poor thing, she thought. She had liked him, as strange as he was. Then Jeremiah nudged her.
“No … look, there he is. He tricked them! Very clever!” They watched as the Chinuk shinnied down the tree carefully. When he reached the road, he looked down the path to make sure the men were gone, crossed back over and headed for the outcropping.
“I think he’s coming this way,” Jeremiah said. “Here, let’s crawl out of this brush.”
Just as they pulled themselves from the last bush, Chalice could hear the patter of small feet issuing from around the side of the huge rock. She straightened and began brushing off the leaves and twigs from her hair and clothes. Jeremiah rummaged in his rucksack and removed the small, leather-bound, Chinukan notebook. The little creature approached them cautiously as Jeremiah proffered it.
“If I’m not mistaken, this is yours. Are you Master Bunejab Bea?” Jeremiah asked in a soft voice.
The little creature smiled broadly. With a twinkle in his eye and a grand flourish of his hand, he bent low in a majestic bow and, quite thoroughly, fell right on his face. Chalice rushed forward to help him as Jeremiah let out a loud snort of laughter.
“You alright?” she asked as Bunejab grabbed her arm to steady himself. He flushed with embarrassment.
“That must be him then. He’s just like you described, Chalice.” Jeremiah chortled as he smiled at them. He extended his hand and the Chinuk gratefully accepted the book, placing it in his own brown rucksack. Then he turned toward Chalice and suddenly began to make the strangest noise. It was unlike anything she had ever heard in her life. It was a strange sort of chittering sound with an occasional deep, throaty growl that seemed to follow pure, uninterrupted notes in singsong fashion. She remembered what Jeremiah had taught her the night before about the Chinukan language.
“Is he … talking?” she asked in astonishment.
“Yeah, isn’t it cool?”
“Do you know what he is saying?”
“I couldn’t make out all of it, just bits and pieces, but I think he wants us to follow him.” She noticed that Bunejab was motioning to the trail leading to the high passes. “He keeps saying ‘bad bird’. I think he means the falcon.” At Jeremiah’s words, the Chinuk nodded. “He says they will come back. You were right, I think, about the bird going back to report.”
Chalice looked at Bunejab. “My name is Chalice. This is Jeremiah.” He nodded again.
“Uh, I think he knows that, Chalice,” Jeremiah said wryly.
Turning to Jeremiah, she smirked. “You hush.” She continued to address the Chinuk. “You know, Bunejab, we can’t survive in the high passes. That’s where you want us to follow you, right?”
Bunejab began to chitter and gesticulate wildly, this time very rapidly and his insistence became bolder. He moved to hold her hand and pull her in the direction of the road. She didn’t resist but asked Jeremiah to translate.
“He says not to worry about it and that we have to hurry. He wants us to trust him.”
She thought about it for a second. Chalice was slow to trust but she remembered that he had just saved them from discovery a minute ago. She also thought about the notebook he dropped near her the day before. It was the notebook that gave them the answers to the questions they had had about the village. Did he do that on purpose? she wondered.
She looked down into his beady black eyes and said: “Alright, we’ll come with you but it will go faster on horseback. Can you ride?”
He nodded and Jeremiah said: “Alright. Chalice, I’ll mount Banner and you can place him in between Banner’s mane and the pommel of my saddle.” Chalice complied and Jeremiah turned to Bunejab. “Bunejab, you and I will ride in front and you can direct our path.” The little creature nodded again and Jeremiah untied Banner, placed his foot in the stirrup and threw his leg over. Bunejab held his arms up to Chalice and she reached down to lift him. It was much like picking up a toddler. His size allowed him to fit comfortably in the small space. He touched her on the nose and spoke again in the strange language.
“What did he say?” she asked.
Jeremiah’s cheeks grew slightly red as he smiled. “He said that you’re pretty.”
Chalice tilted her head in surprise and said: “Why, thank you!” Then she untied Sunny, mounted, and followed them back down to the road.
They rode for hours at a fast walk. It was all the horses could handle given the slope of the trail, which grew dangerously more narrow with altitude. Occasionally, it was so steep that the trail zigzagged, creating flat sections, which allowed the horses some respite from the grueling climb. What started out as a warm, autumn morning, grudgingly turned into a chilly afternoon, made even cooler with the ascent. The only warmth blew in periodically with a westerly breeze from the base of the mountain. As they climbed, the sequoias loomed taller, the trail slowly darkened, and the forest came alive with the sounds of wildlife. The farther up they went, the more astins and oadens they saw, which grew darker until they were almost an unnatural dark green. The forest was vibrant as the wind whistled through the branches and a strange sense filled the air. It was almost like a presence that whispered tales of things long gone and breathed life into the inanimate objects surrounding them. 
At the beginning of the journey, Bunejab chattered constantly but later his speech tapered off slightly, as everyone grew weary. While the Chinuk was talking, Chalice noticed Jeremiah listening acutely to the sounds he made so she decided to remain silent. This must be a rare treat for him, she thought. Then memories that she had been fighting to suppress sprang into the forefront of her mind. They were of events of the past few months and how the secure world she had known in Canton was so suddenly thrown into chaos. The more she dwelt on it, the more confusing it became. So she decided to clear her mind and focus on more pressing matters like where they were headed and how they were going to get there. When the trail plateaued, Chalice caught a sparkle of sunlight off the surface of a small brook to the left and her stomach rumbled.
“I think it’s a good time for a late lunch. What do you think, Jeremiah?” she said, patting Sunny’s neck.
“Good idea. I’m starving!” he responded.
They stopped at a grassy spot near the water where the horses could eat and drink as much as they needed. The brook was a few paces wide and a couple of feet deep. The water cascaded slowly over the scattered pebbles and round rocks in a gentle trickle. Chalice pulled some bread, cheese, and dried meat from her bags to share with Jeremiah. They were silent as they ate ravenously and drank from the water skin. Then she saw them. It was a family of elk a couple of spans down. They were watering themselves and basking in the warm sunlight. One standing midstream lifted its head and glanced in her direction. It was enormous, with a thick, reddish-brown coat and expansive antlers that branched in almost every direction. She should have been terrified but she wasn’t. There was a peaceful, knowing look in its eye. It was an intelligence she could feel in everything around her.
“Jeremiah.” She nudged him and said: “Look.” He turned toward the elk. At that moment, Bunejab scuttled up the path, panting heavily. He had been watching down the mountain from the edge of the trail’s steep slope. He stopped near Jeremiah and chittered loudly at the animals downstream. They immediately bolted across the water and into the trees.
“Bunejab, why did you do that?” she asked.
Jeremiah put a hand on her shoulder. “He told them that we have unwanted company following us. He asked them to buy us some time. Apparently, the King’s men are still following us.”
“They understand him?”
“Yeah, they seem to. It’s amazing. I can’t believe how much I have learned about the Chinuka in just one morning.”
“What was he telling you along the trail? He was talking nonstop.”
“He was telling me where he is taking us and what his plan is. He knew we would be headed for Chainbridge. He was also telling me about the Chinukan villages so that when we get there, we will know what to expect.”
She was about to ask him what that was but was unable due to Bunejab’s frantic chattering and hand gestures, motioning for them to move on. After quickly packing their things, they were back on the trail. Bunejab, it seemed, was in a hurry to get up the mountain. She could hear him in his continued instruction to Jeremiah.
Hours passed. At first, random patches of snow and ice could be seen dotting the trailside. It wasn’t long after that, however, that everything around them was covered in glittering white. The landscape was wintry and the air was thin. The sun had not set yet but the sky was growing darker and the evening’s first stars began to emerge out of the deep azure.
“You hear that Jeremiah?” she asked and noticed that her breath was as thick as steam in the freezing air.
“The waterfall, yeah. I think it’s just up ahead, to the right. You want to stop?”
It was difficult to breathe and she felt lightheaded and weak. “Yes! I do. I don’t know about you but I’m feeling strange. I don’t know how we are going to make it up this mountain.”
A few minutes passed and Jeremiah pulled off the trail to the right, down a small slope that led to a large, flat area. It was a small moraine that ended at the edge of a large lake of water, pooled by the rugged land meeting the waterfall. She could see it in the far distance as she halted Sunny near the water’s edge and dismounted. The snow crunched beneath her boots. Sunny immediately lowered his head and drank deeply from the cold, fresh mountain water. Banner did the same. She reached into her saddlebag to place her dark lambskin gloves inside. They were just like her cloak, dark suede on the exterior and soft fur on the interior to keep in body heat. At this moment she no longer needed them. Her hands were warm.
“Let’s make a camp here for the night,” Jeremiah said. He sounded exhausted.
“You read my mind,” she replied in relief. “It’s safe enough, I think, and guarded from the trail by the trees. What do you think Bunejab?” she asked as she held up her arms to lower him from Banner’s saddle. He nodded and jumped into her arms. She almost fell, swaying a little before setting him down. She hadn’t realized how dizzy she was. She helped Jeremiah out of the saddle as well. He was weak and shaky. It was strange. Bunejab didn’t even seem to be affected by the altitude at all and immediately scurried into the woods. 
“You feeling it too then?” she asked Jeremiah in concern.
“Yeah, let’s tie the horses and sit down for a moment. I’m so cold.” Regardless of the thick cloak he was wearing, he was shivering violently. His hands and face were almost blue. She was more concerned for him than she was for herself, for her lambskin cloak, boots, and gloves, she knew from experience, could fend off biting cold from the cruelest of winters. Treated with a special ointment that Grandma Naelli had made, they were waterproof and soft, and kept her very warm. She rubbed her warm palms together firmly to generate more heat and placed them over his cheeks. He took in a deep, relaxed breath, closing his eyes and said: “Thanks, Chalice. That feels good.” 
Taking a seat on a small boulder near the horses, they covered themselves in a woolen blanket and waited for Bunejab to return. She put her arms around Jeremiah’s torso to transfer some of her body heat to him. He was still shaking. A rustle from the brush brought a small bundle of kindling with small furry legs. Oh, she thought, he was gathering firewood. Her thoughts were slow. She watched as he waddled over to their spot and worked swiftly, bringing more firewood, clearing the snow, digging a fire pit and lighting the kindling. She was amazed at how fast he was for such a small creature. Before they knew it, he had a small fire crackling and a pot of piping hot liquid that he poured into small cups for them. He placed the steaming cup into Jeremiah’s trembling fingers, telling him something she couldn’t understand. He sipped it gently and a rosy color began to flush his cheeks. She gave him a puzzled look.
“He says it will make us feel better,” Jeremiah said.
She took the cup from Bunejab and nursed it slowly. The flavor was like that of green tea but with a touch of mint. It was unlike anything she had ever tasted. It was incredible! The effect was immediate. With every sip, she could breathe easier and felt much stronger. The sense of vertigo she had experienced earlier completely disappeared. She could also feel warmth spread throughout her body, from her stomach to her limbs, and the biting frost no longer stung her face. She could see that Jeremiah was experiencing the same feeling. After a few minutes, she was too hot and had to remove the blanket and her coat. Soon they were both up, helping Bunejab set up camp for the night.
They dug a small area in the snow around the campfire from the horses’ spot to another boulder a few paces away. Although it was thick, the snow was a fine, champagne powder that twinkled in the firelight and was easily displaced. Bunejab laid a pan of water, into which he poured the rest of the contents of the pot, next to the horses and then departed into the trees to continue his search for more kindling and firewood. Chalice prepared their bedding while Jeremiah busied himself making dinner over the fire. By the appearance of the ingredients he placed in the pot, she guessed that they were getting stew again. Oh well, it’s better than nothing. Actually, it’s a lot better than nothing, she told herself. She glanced over at the horses drinking from the pan.
“What was in that drink he gave us?” she asked as she laid out their blankets on a soft stretch of warm ground. The ground was surprisingly temperate after they had cleared the snow. In between that and their blankets and cloaks, they would be sufficiently warm for the night, she thought.
“He said it was tea made from an herb that grows on Mt. Taluqua. That’s also the name of the herb, Taluqua. It will wear off by morning so we will have to drink some during breakfast tomorrow. The Chinuka are skilled in the healing arts, which includes their knowledge of herbs that heal everything from the common cold to altitude sickness. They know things about the indigenous plants of the Trui’Quirre that no one knows. I am really looking forward to studying them. I can’t wait to get up the mountain!”
She smiled to herself. He was such a scholar. Many silent minutes passed and then she asked: “Oh yeah, by the way, I forgot to ask you. What was he saying along the trail?” She grabbed their water skins and stepped toward the edge of the lake.
“Oh, right, I was going to tell you but there was no time.” Frowning slightly, Jeremiah stuck his hand into his saddlebag and was digging around for something. After a moment, he pulled out a small box of seasonings and herbs. Adding them to the pot, he continued: “Anyhow, he knew we would be headed for Chainbridge and that the only way for us to safely get there from Branbury, where we couldn’t be followed, was through the high mountain pass. Having made it this far with no one close on our tail, I would say that he was right.”
Chalice nodded. “True. We wouldn’t have made it if he hadn’t been there.” She agreed but she still thought his behavior was a little odd. “Did you ask him why he hangs out in the trees and studies people the way he does?”
“Uh … well, no,” Jeremiah said. “I didn’t want to ask him that. In my opinion, if he wants to stalk people, that’s his business. He may be strange but he is definitely helpful.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” She laughed. Then exhaling, she straightened from laying the bedding and knuckled her back. The beds were set and the water skins filled. She sat down on her blankets and crossed her legs. “You mentioned that he was teaching you about the Chinuka, information that we would need to know. What was that all about?”
“Oh yeah, well, you know as well as I that the Chinuka cut off all communication with our world after the Second War of the Realm.” She nodded and he continued: “I asked him why, but he sort of danced around the question so I didn’t press it further. I assume, as does everyone else, that they grew tired of the fighting. Anyhow, he said that the other Chinuka will not be thrilled that he is leading us through the villages and over the mountain pass, regardless of the danger we were in. They won’t try to harm us, so we don’t have to worry about that, but we shouldn’t expect a warm welcome either.”
“Sounds serious.”
“I think it is. He said the main village is located at the top of the mountain, nestled in a large, flattened caldera, settled around a frozen lake located in the middle where they ice-fish. Their diet’s main staple is …”
“A caldera?” Chalice interrupted. “Mt. Vaassa was volcanic?”
“Yeah, all three of the Trui’Quirre were enormous volcanoes at one time. They have long since lain dormant and inactive for ages.”
“Wow!”
“Yeah, I know, learned something new today,” he responded with a nod. “Anyway, their diet’s main staple is fish, fruits and vegetables.”
“How can they grow fruits and vegetables living in snow and ice?”
“I don’t know. That’s one reason why I am looking forward to getting there. I’m curious as to how they do many things. I wanted to ask him a ton of questions but I had a hard enough time just listening and understanding. Although it would have been difficult even to get a question in with all that he wanted to tell me. Oh well.” He threw something from the small box into the pot and stirred it. “Anyhow, the main village is located at the top but there are smaller villages scattered along the outskirts on the outer ridge of the caldera. They are mainly there for scouting and protection of their main settlement but also for trade and dealings with the other Chinukan tribes that live on the other mountains. Bunejab and his wife, Quinta, I think that’s her name, live in one of the smaller villages. He described it to me. He said we would be stopping there first.”
“Other Chinukan tribes?”
“Yeah, there is a tribe on each mountain. From what I remember, and if I’m pronouncing it correctly, Bunejab’s tribe is called the Chiapay. The tribe of Mt. Baakul is called the Niquinintas and of Mt. Taluqua, the Tiatania. Each tribe has an Âwásöt and an Âwásötah, the Chinukan equivalent of a King and Queen but they are actually more like clan leaders. Another interesting aspect of Chinukan society is that it is largely matriarchal. All inheritance, rights, and property stem from the female line. The male members of the tribe make decisions and laws but they are not put into effect until the female members approve them. This is how it is in family circles as well as in the society as a whole.”
“You realize that we are the first people to learn this for hundreds of years, right? You should write this information down, Jeremiah. Keep a record of it.”
He nodded, a lock of his hair falling into his eyes. “I intend to as soon as I have a chance. I brought my notebook with me. Luckily, I had time to grab it before we rushed out.” He stirred the contents of the pot, extracting a spoonful to taste. “Yep, this is ready. Is he back yet?” he asked and glanced around for little Chinuk. At that moment, Bunejab came waddling out of the trees again. As soon as he smelled the aroma in the direction of the fire, he threw down the firewood, grabbed a cup from his bag, and handed it to Jeremiah with a ravenous look on his face.
“Hungry, aren’t you?” Jeremiah asked as he scooped out several large spoonfuls into his tiny cup. Bunejab smiled broadly and sat down to eat.
“He’s got to be. I don’t think he’s had anything to eat all day,” Chalice noted and she was right, for by end of dinner, Bunejab had gone back for his fourth helping.
After they were all satisfactorily fed and watered, the little Chinuk curled up in his blankets and Chalice bent down to tuck him in. “Good night, Bunejab. Thank you for helping us,” she said quietly as she pulled his blanket up to his chin. He chittered something incomprehensible and was soon fast asleep. Jeremiah handed her a steaming hot cup of tea and they sat down in their bedding next to the fire. They sipped while admiring the surrounding mountainside. It had just occurred to her how gorgeous the waterscape was. The air was crisp, clear and very cold. It made her think of the nights in Canton leading up to the winter holiday. At the other end of the lake, next to the falls, the water emptied into a gorge that sloped gently downward and grew into a small canyon. She guessed that it was a body of water that eventually flowed into the Canterine. From where they were seated, they could hear the faint patter of a million splashes echoing into the gorge and beyond the canyon. At the end where they had made camp the lake was a calm pool of crystal water that reflected everything above it in shimmering detail – the waterfall, the trees, the stars, and the moon. The crescent moon was halfway in its monthly cycle and peeked over the distant sequoias just slightly, just enough to bathe the landscape in radiant moonlight. It was Chauma, the bright moon. And then suddenly, in the water’s reflection, they saw it: a multi-colored moonbow arching boldy over the falls.
“You see that, Jeremiah?!” she exclaimed.
“Sure do.” He nodded.
“What is it?”
“It’s a moonbow.” He looked over and seeing the unasked question on her face, explained: “A lunar rainbow. I see them sometimes when I go hunting. You can only see them during certain times of the year, usually during spring, but the conditions have to be right. Most rainbows are caused by sunlight being refracted through the moisture in the air after a rain but sometimes they can appear as refracted moonlight. It usually happens near a waterfall where there is a lot of moisture lifted into the air by the falling water. If it were Maana’s cycle this month, it would need to be a full moon to produce enough light and even then the moonbow would be faint and last only for seconds. Since this month’s lunar cycle is Chauma’s, it doesn’t have to be a full moon because Chauma is much brighter.”
“Hmmm, I didn’t know that. I’m glad it’s Chauma’s cycle this month. It’s beautiful!” 
“It is. We are lucky tonight. You know, I’ve always wondered why Chauma is so much brighter?” he asked her as he took a sip from his cup.
“I think it has to do with a certain material on its surface. It was introduced to Naeo’Gaea during the Ice Age. Of course, it wasn’t Naeo’Gaea back then. Our world was called something else. Nobody knows what that name was though. Papa said that most of the knowledge of that time has been lost. What has been remembered and preserved is really interesting. Did you know that before the Ice Age, there was only one moon?”
“Are you kidding? That’s weird!”
“I know. I thought it was weird too when he first told me.”
“How does he know all this?” Jeremiah asked arching an eyebrow.
“I guess the same way your dad knows what he knows.”
“Fair enough.” He nodded. “Which moon was it?”
“Maana. Chauma appeared later, sometime during the Ice Age.”
“How did it happen?” he asked.
She took a drink from her mug and tilted her head back to face the stars staring down at them as she said: “That’s a mystery. We don’t know because people were living underground at the time. Most believe that it has to do with some kind of Perseid shower that brought the strange material to the land. It is the same material that makes Chauma shine so brightly. At least, that’s the theory anyway.”
“Did Sebastian teach you all about the history of Naeo’Gaea then?”
“A little. During our nightly firesides he taught me what he knew, or at least what he was willing to teach me at the time. I asked him a lot of questions. When he didn’t want to answer, he would tell me that I was either too young or wasn’t ready to learn it.”
“Hmmm, that sounds familiar,” Jeremiah said with a frown. “What else did he teach you?”
She continued: “Well, before the Ice Age, the ancient world was peopled by sapient beings, like us, but of many different races that spoke and wrote many languages, and lived in different lands separated by the sea.”
“Huh?” he said, surprised.
“Yeah. It’s very different than our world now. The face of Naeo’Gaea has completely changed. Anyhow, some of the races developed into high civilizations. They were civilizations of skywatchers, builders, artists, scholars and seafarers. They were great thinkers. They had a form of knowledge that aided them in survival and advancement. Their knowledge was not like that of the Terravail, of which I know little anyway. It was different and they used it in many different ways, mostly to build tools and crafts that improved their lives. Unfortunately, Papa said that this knowledge, too, has been lost.”
“So what happened to them? How’d they die?”
“Well, not all of them died actually. We are proof of that because we are their descendants. Many of them did die though. The majority, I think. They started dying because, suddenly, during the height of the Golden Age, that’s what it’s officially called, Naeo’Gaea was hit with unpredictable, volatile weather. It changed frequently and violently, killing many of them regardless of their advancements that kept them alive. Like us, they had been accustomed to four seasons that came and went in a constant pattern. Then, without warning, the land plunged into a deep Ice Age. Entire civilizations collapsed, mostly those that had been situated in warmer areas because they either couldn’t adapt physically to the cold or their economies couldn’t function or both. The survivors decided to build underground cities with tunnels in between for travel and transport. They used their special talents to survive underground. It was the only other option they had besides extinction. It all happened in a matter of decades, too. Many of those who escaped underground still died, though, because adjusting to life without sunlight was too difficult.”
Jeremiah stared at her intently, drinking in every word. “Are the cities still there?” he asked.
“I asked Papa that same question and he said that he didn’t know.”
“Hmmm. So then what happened? How long did they stay underground?”
“For many thousands of years, actually. In any case, enough time went by for all of the different races to form into one civilization. It was a civilization that sort of fused together all the different cultural aspects of each race. One common language also evolved. It was a language that contained a mixture of all the remnants of the different living languages spoken at the time. We now call the language of old ...”
“Angaulic?”
“Yep, that’s it. Also, there was, at one point during their time underground, a major landquake. It collapsed some of the tunnels and there were cities that were lost to the rest of the civilization. Some of the tunnels were inundated with water and so had to be walled up. Many associate the quake with the arrival of Chauma but they can’t be sure. In any case, they know something cataclysmic occurred that wiped out most of the ancient world above. Some think there may be structural remains left underwater but we have yet to find them. Anyhow, it was sometime after the quake that the three different races that we know today began to form.”
Then Jeremiah said knowledgeably: “The Terravail, the Naeon, and the Lost Ones?”
“That’s right.” She sipped her tea and continued: “Anyway, the three different races began to develop radically different abilities and traits. The Terravail, of course, began living longer lives and developing their unique powers and physical strength. We, meaning the Naeon, developed longer lives and a special talent for building things. The Lost Ones, however, did not really demonstrate much of a change and today resemble the ancient people more than any other race in that regard. The people of the ancient world did not live very long lives, at least not to our standards today. They lived about one third the life that we do. So do the Lost Ones. The only thing that changed for all three races was that they were less prone to developing disease and sickness. Among the ancient people, disease and sickness were much more common than they are today.”
“The Lost Ones. Why are they called that?”
“Well, their real name is the Quaie’Miren but they are called the Lost Ones because they are nomadic. They constantly move around and never settle in any one place. No one outside their circle really knows why they do that and they’ve been doing it ever since the Haeliad.”
“Huh? The Haeliad? That’s a holiday.”
Chalice laughed. “Yes, it is, but it is also the name that was given to the day that people decided to leave the comfort and security of the underground world and settle on the land once more. It was sometime after the three races developed into what they are now that the land became warm and habitable again. It took them a long while but they eventually decided to come out and the Haeliad is the celebration of that — the Coming Out or the Egress. I think it wasn’t easy at first. Their skin and eyes had to adapt to the weather and sunlight again but obviously, they managed it. The first thing that people noticed was the existence of the two moons and the inverted path of the sun, from west to east. Apparently, in the ancient world, the sun’s path used to be east to west. They also noticed that the length of the day and night was longer and that the oceanic tides were different. So they had to change their calendars and clocks to adjust to the differences.”
“And they remembered all of these things about the ancient world after spending all that time underground?” he asked, finishing the rest of his tea in one swallow.
“Yeah, it’s hard to believe, isn’t it? Papa said that it was due to bedtime stories being passed down from parent to child through the generations.”
“You know, there’s something that doesn’t make sense to me about all this,” he said, setting his empty cup to the side. “If all of their knowledge has been lost, then how does anyone know anything about these ancient people?”
“That’s just it!” she said in frustration. “I don’t know. It’s uncanny because all of their knowledge and the fruits of it are gone. We have no record of them and no history. There are no provable traces left behind. Granted, it was eons ago so I can see how time has washed away any mark of their civilization from the land, but if that’s the case, how can we even prove they existed and that these stories weren’t a fabrication? It doesn’t make sense to me either. I’m not saying that I doubt what Papa taught me, but where did he get his information and how does he know?”
“This is something I will have to ask my dad when we see him. He’ll probably know,” he responded, staring off into the distance.
Thinking of his father and the others at Chainbridge, she said: “So, Jeremiah.” He turned his head in her direction. “Have you given any thought to Chainbridge since this morning and what we will do after we get over the mountain?”
“Yes, I have. We will need to be careful. By the time we get down the mountain, they may still be looking for us. My guess, though, is that they will expect us to either come back down the mountain on the east side and head through the middle passes or return to Branbury. Of course, this is assuming they will be that persistent. We still don’t know who they’re looking for.” 
“That’s true,” she agreed.
He looked at her intently, his dark eyes burrowing into her and she knew what he was thinking. “Have you given any more thought to the book we found yesterday?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. She had been hoping to avoid this topic. It had been the culmination of an anxiety that had haunted her ever since she left Canton. “I thought you might ask that. Yes, I have and did you notice something this morning, Jeremiah?”
“What’s that?”
“The man in black said they were looking for a ‘him’.”
Jeremiah’s eyes lit up. “That’s right! ‘The Fierain wants him alive.’ I remember that. So you’re right. It’s not you, then. I’d still like to know what that passage in the book means and who the King is looking for.”
She studied his face as the shadows from the firelight danced around his eyes and cheeks. She couldn’t help but wonder: Is the King looking for Jeremiah? She didn’t want to continue on the subject, however, so she said: “Well, eventually we will get to the bottom of it. As for now, we should get some sleep.” Then she stretched out like a cat and let out a wide yawn.
Chalice looked up toward the moonbow and spotted a shooting star that streaked across the dark sky, disappearing over the falls. “Did you see that?”
“Make a wish,” he said.
“You make a wish.”
He smiled at her knowingly. “I already have.”
“What was it?”
He winked. “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”
“Tell me!” she pestered him. “You can’t leave it at that!”
“Good night, Chalice,” he said quietly.
“You’re not telling me. Alright, well, whatever. Good night,” she replied sassily, set down her empty cup, and curled up in her blankets. A deep sleep took her, filled with dreams of a white corridor, a staircase and a pulsating gem. By the morning, however, she had already forgotten them.




Chapter 6
The Huskamau

Jeremiah woke early, just before dawn. It was still semi-dark and the fire had long since burned out. A few warm embers were all that remained to give off any kind of heat. Feeling the frost and altitude sickness slowly returning, he rose from his blanket to rekindle the fire and placed above the hot flames Bunejab’s small kettle that he had filled with the chill mountain water. Warming his hands, he gazed down at Chalice who was still in peaceful slumber. She looked like an angel. She had no idea how beautiful she was. He had missed her. During all that time away from Canton, he realized, only recently, just how much. Physically she was very different than she had been but on the inside she was still that same sassy, clever, little girl he had known who always broke the rules and tried to boss him around. Could she really be a princess? Is that what Sebastian was hiding? He hoped his wish would come true but it didn’t matter. To him, she already was. She can deny it all she wants, I won’t bring up the subject again, he told himself. 
Jeremiah grabbed the pouch of Taluqua leaves Bunejab had placed in his bag and sprinkled a few into the kettle. Chalice stirred and opened her eyes.
“You’re up early,” she said. “I always get up before dawn. I’m a hunter.” He smiled.
“Uh, oh yeah,” she replied as she stretched and took a deep breath of the crisp morning air. A piercing cry echoed down the canyon. “What is that?”
“The Niquilas.”
“The what?”
“The snow eagles. Their cries can be heard in the early morning of Trui’Quirre. They wake the mountain animals.” 
“Oh, right,” she said thoughtfully and remembered having heard the screeches from far off during her journey through the middle passes. “Is Bunejab awake yet?”
“No. He must have been really tired last night. He was the first to go down and now the last to get up. You want breakfast?”
“You know, I’m not that hungry,” she answered sitting up, wrapping herself in her blanket.
“Me neither but we need to drink this tea. Here.” She took the cup he proffered her and blew into it, cooling it a little before drinking. Taking a sip, she felt the warmth and energy flow into her again, stamping out all the frost and fatigue.
“I’m going to have to get some of these tea leaves. I like this tea.”
Jeremiah laughed as he laid out a pan of cool water, steeped in tea leaves, for the horses. “You’ll have to take that up with Bunejab.”
“I will,” she replied wryly as she sipped her cup and stared out at the water. Minutes passed. Then she frowned in thought. “You know, I was thinking about something last night. It seems to me that we are far enough up the mountain that part of the lake and river water should be frozen but it isn’t. Why is that?”
At that moment the blankets across from them began to move and a furry head popped out from under the covers.
“Well good morning!” she said cheerfully. Apparently Bunejab had heard her question and wanted to answer. All Chalice could make out was a few sounds before she turned to Jeremiah.
“You want to translate?” she asked, smiling.
“He says that it is because of the land. It keeps the water from freezing but closer to the top of the mountain we will begin to see more ice. He also said that it is the reason why the trees can grow this high up. The land keeps the forest and the animals alive.”
“The land … keeps the water from freezing? Hmmm …” she said slowly to herself, in a soft, thoughtful tone. She remembered clearing the snow for the bedding the night before and how warm the ground felt. It was a good thing for it kept them comfortable during the frosty night. She never felt a chill at all. Just then, Bunejab jumped out of his covers and began to roll up his blanket.
Taking the cue from the little Chinuk, Jeremiah said: “Yeah, we better get moving.” He tossed some snow onto the fire and began to pack up. Chalice followed suit and soon they were set to head back up the trail.
“Chalice, why don’t you let him ride with you and you two can lead this time. What do you think?”
“Alright. Here hand him to me.” Jeremiah lifted him to the front of Chalice’ saddle, where he fit nicely in between its pommel and Sunny’s mane. She smiled. From the other side of his furry ears, issued the strange sound that he made every time he chattered on in the Chinukan language. He appeared very excited to share something with her. All she could respond with was: “Yeah, uh huh, wow, really …” She had no idea what he was saying.
Jeremiah grinned as he mounted. Of course he knew what Bunejab was telling her but decided to remain silent about it. Maybe it will give her some incentive to learn the language, he thought to himself. He motioned Banner to follow Sunny and they ascended the embankment to follow the trail once more. The slope of the trail tapered off along the mountainside but the sheer drop off to their right was intimidating. Jeremiah tensed as they approached a narrow section of road. Chalice didn’t even seem to flinch. She rested calmly on Sunny’s saddle and giggled at Bunejab who jabbered away. Little did she know that Bunejab was giving her advice on Jeremiah. Well, it’s actually a good thing she can’t understand him, he thought wryly. He wondered how she could remain so cool and collected on this part of the trail. Then he remembered that she had just spent the last few weeks crossing the middle passes of the Trui’Quirre. No wonder, he thought, that was even more dangerous and she did that on her own. She is so brave. He wanted to tell her what he thought of her and how much she had grown but he thought it best to keep that information to himself … at least for now.
Then he thought about how his life in just the past few days had drastically changed from the complacency of the Branburian quotidian routine to an escape from the King’s men for a reason that still eluded them. Everything had been status quo when he left on his hunting trip and then completely upside-down when he returned and all of it coinciding with Chalice’ arrival. To see her again after all these years, he almost expected to wake from what seemed like a strange dream. What was all of this about? Why didn’t Father leave me a message? He couldn’t understand it. It was unlike his father to abandon the farm even if in a hurry without leaving behind some sort of note to let him know what was happening or where they were. Were they alright? he wondered. He wondered if Zeb and Jordan were still fighting over Alora. His two brothers never really got along well in any case, not like the others, but he supposed that the contention between them had at least been put on hold given current events. And that was assuming they were still alive. No, I shouldn’t think that way. They are all alive, he told himself stubbornly.
He wondered if Seth and Nicolah, his two eldest brothers, were with them. And Aemis and Tobias? They were his two best friends. When he left, Tobias was still contemplating proposing to Seychelle. Jeremiah wondered why he didn’t just do it and get it over with. He couldn’t imagine Tobias with anyone other than her. It was fear holding him back. Maybe all of this will cause him to break through that fear, he thought. Aemis, on the other hand, had just been on the brink of perfecting his new invention. Of course, this was always the case every time he talked to him and every time something went wrong and it didn’t work. Did he succeed this time? The invention was a powder that he had been developing. Aemis had said it could be put to many uses in the village, as well as facilitate the digging of wells, culverts, and the like. He also had some insane idea of making what he called skyfire with it for festivals and celebrations. Jeremiah had anticipated returning from his trip to pay him a visit. He was interested in Aemis’ progress. He wanted to see this skyfire. Smiling, he shook his head. Crazy Aemis! 
Hours passed where he let his mind entertain thoughts of his village and the people closest to him. He supposed keeping them alive in his mind kept him from losing his composure and strength. If anything, he had to maintain at least the outward appearance of that for Chalice. Although sometimes he thought that she was stronger than him, in many ways. Regardless, she seemed lost at this point in her life. For that matter, so was he, too, lost. Finally, snapping out of his thoughts, he realized that they had been on horseback all through lunch and the remaining afternoon. They found themselves in a flat highland area, surrounded by a pure white forest where everything twinkled in snow and ice. The icicles dangling from the branches far up looked menacing. Best to stay on the beaten path, he thought to himself. Light rays beamed through the sequoias from the east, which told him that it must have been late afternoon or early evening.
At that moment, Jeremiah’s eye caught a flash of white and grey from behind the trees to the left. The horses snorted and pranced about along the trail. He managed to calm Banner but Chalice, it appeared, was not succeeding with her mount. He raced up alongside them.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Bunejab. He won’t sit still. He’s terrified. I can’t control both him and Sunny at the same time!” Jeremiah noticed Bunejab, who by that time had turned around in his seat and was clutching Chalice with almost a death grip, chittering in rapid Chinukan. Jeremiah grabbed Sunny’s reins and slowed him. The presence of Banner alongside appeared to calm the horse and slow his stride.
“Whoa boy, ssh.” Jeremiah eased Sunny to a walk. He looked back at Chalice who, in exasperation, had her arm around a clinging Bunejab. “The Huskamau,” he said.
“The what?” Chalice asked.
“Bunejab is talking about the snow wolves. He’s afraid of them. They usually don’t come around this area but when they do, that means that they are hungry. Sometimes, they prey upon the Chinuka. They have attacked his village before. I just spotted one of them back there. If you can see one that means that there are many more that you cannot see lingering in the forest somewhere. He says that they used to have friends who lived in the high passes of the mountain who protected them from the wolves but those friends are gone now.”
Chalice’ eyes grew wide with fear. “We should hurry then!”
“His village is not too far from here,” Jeremiah said as he gripped Sunny’s reins with his left hand while guiding Banner with his right. “You keep a hold on him,” he added, nodding toward Bunejab. “I’ll get us there.” 
Heeling Banner to a fast trot, they continued in that manner for the next hour. If the wolves were following, he didn’t see them and the horses appeared not to sense them either. The Chinuk, however, remained unnerved. Jeremiah assumed that Bunejab was probably more aware than they were of the wolves’ presence even if he didn’t see them. The Chinuk stayed in the position that he was, holding tightly onto Chalice and keeping his eyes on the forest, until they reached a large clearing of small, white, snow hills at the base of an enormous, sheer crag made of thick mountain rock. 
As they approached, Chalice noticed that what she had thought were snow hills weren’t really hills at all, but low-lying huts, or burrows, carved into the earth and covered with a thick blanket of snow. Small wooden doors covered with ice, and tiny windows decorated with thin icicles, peeked out of the mounds of snow. Sparkles of jagged light brightened the paths that wound in and around the huts. Dusk was approaching quickly and the area was thoroughly shaded by the large sequoias to the east and the rock face to the west that towered over the small village. Many of the huts had small, protruding chimneys that released a sweet smell of wood smoke into the frosty mountain air. Chalice’ stomach growled at her. They hadn’t eaten all day and it was getting close to dinnertime. Only a few of the Chinuka could be seen scurrying about the paths in brown and grey cloaks, carrying supplies for meal preparations. They all resembled one another, yet at the same time displayed varying differences. Some were much larger and stockier, with thicker, darker fur and strode about carrying heavy loads. Others were smaller and lighter in color, with softer, more rounded features that were distinctly feminine. None of them, however, seemed to notice the new arrivals.
A word from Bunejab brought them to a halt on the main pathway through the village, in front of one of the huts to their left. He scrambled off the horse, falling to the ground in a heap, and rushed into the small, Chinukan home. After a moment, they saw what must have been Quinta peer out of the window at them. Then her face vanished. Chalice and Jeremiah glanced at each other in confusion. Jeremiah dismounted, and crept to the door, his ear straining toward it, listening to what was being said. Chalice dismounted and stood watching as she held the horses’ reins.
“They are arguing,” he whispered to her. “Well, he’s not but she is. She’s not happy that he has been gone for so long and that he brought us back with him.” He paused to listen again and then said: “Man, she’s really angry. I think he knew she would …” 
Suddenly Jeremiah cut off and leapt back from the door that began to open. Four, tiny, furry heads appeared from behind it. In an explosion of excitement, they chattered and giggled and bolted toward Chalice, knocking her down. For a moment, Jeremiah had to suppress a crazy desire to laugh as she was inundated with small moving fur balls that tickled her and laughed like a bunch of mad squirrels. They had never seen anything like people before and seemed to be making the most of it. Chalice appeared both amazed and amused. She clearly wasn’t expecting to be tackled by four Chinukan children. Just then, Jeremiah spotted the villagers approaching. Apparently they had taken note of the newcomers and were moving nearer to investigate. As he turned toward them, from the corner of his eye, he spotted Bunejab and Quinta, who were watching Chalice and the children. It the midst of the commotion, he hadn’t noticed that the argument between them had ceased and both stood in the doorway to see what was happening. He had the impression that Quinta was no longer angry. It’s funny how children can do that, he thought to himself.
Chalice, flushed and breathless, sat up and the children, being called back by their mother, returned to the house. Then Quinta spoke to them.
“She says that she’s sorry. They usually don’t behave like that,” Jeremiah explained.
“It’s alright.” Chalice laughed as Jeremiah walked over to help her to her feet. Bunejab addressed the crowd, and from what Chalice could discern, introduced them. Most were interested in the new guests, some were suspicious, but to her surprise, none of them appeared to be angry. Their introduction to the village seemed to be going well, that is, until the wolves arrived. 
Suddenly, piercing shrieks of terror burst from the crowd as the Chinuka frantically scuttled back to their huts. Chalice turned toward the path from which they had just come and spotted a large pack of enormous wolves. They were pure white with flecks of grey in their tails and ears. Grey flecks also covered their muzzles and encircled their eyes of ice-blue. They were beautiful if deadly. She realized that it must have been the same pack that had been tracking them along the trail. She kept very still. Moving her eyes without turning her head, she noted that the whole pack was standing back in the depths of the trees that surrounded the village. They were just lingering and watching, not moving, as if waiting for something. Then she saw the one. He must have been the leader. He was the largest, with the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen, that stared, not just at her, but into her and she felt something strange. It was almost a kinship.
“Chalice, come on! What are you doing?” She felt a tug on her arm and knew that Jeremiah was beckoning her to go with Bunejab who was gesturing toward the rock cliff. Jeremiah was trying to control the horses at the same time without much success. Then she heard noise issuing again from the village. The male Chinuka had emerged and were brandishing small clubs, spears, and crossbows in an attempt to defend their village against an attack. Many of the wolves growled and snarled at their advancement. Chalice stepped forward and motioned with her left palm for the Chinuka to halt. Then, slowly, stealthily, she approached the leader, extending her right hand. A glint of sunlight flickered from the blue diamond on her ring to the eye of the wolf.
“Chalice, what are you doing?! Are you crazy?! Come back here!” She could hear Jeremiah pleading with her as if through a tunnel in the distance. She wasn’t sure if what she was doing was crazy or not. She had no idea how she knew that she wasn’t in any danger. She just knew. The wolf did not move as she drew closer. Its ice-blue eyes peered into her, as if searching for something, as if knowing who she was. As soon as she was close enough, he moved his nose toward her hand and sniffed. With a loud snort, he threw up his head and stepped backwards. Retreating, he turned slowly and trotted back down the path from which they came. The rest of wolves followed suit. It was over.
Strange sounds came from the crowd. It was unlike anything she had heard since first experiencing their spoken language. She turned around and realized that they were cheering. Many rushed up to touch her or seize her hands. It seemed gratitude swept over them like a flood and they were no longer suspicious of her or Jeremiah. She had done nothing, she knew, but to them, she had saved their village. 
In exasperation, Jeremiah stepped up and exclaimed: “You scared me half to death! What was that all about?!”
“I … have … no idea,” she said in total bewilderment.
“How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Get them to leave.”
“I didn’t do anything. I just stood there. There was something about that wolf.” She turned her head to glance back down the path again. They were gone. “For some reason, I knew that they were not here to harm anyone. I don’t know how I knew that though. It was weird, Jeremiah. There is something about this mountain that is strange. It’s a feeling that isn’t present in the lowlands. Can you feel it?”
He glanced around and nodded. “Yeah, a little, but it still wouldn’t make me brave enough to approach a giant wolf, you crazy woman!” he said smiling and wrapping his arm around her. “Come on. Bunejab is going to lead us to our quarters for the night, where we can rest the horses and have dinner.”
The night? she wondered to herself. And yet it was nighttime, practically. The sun had set, and between the shade of the trees and the darkness of the sky, she suddenly realized that there was no sunlight left. “Oh, yeah, let’s go. I’m famished!”
After the excitement had died down and the villagers had returned to their business, Quinta tucked back into the hut and set to tending the children. Following Bunejab’s lead, Chalice and Jeremiah strode down the main path to the base of the cliff. There, they took a sharp right, which led to a large gateway in the rock face. The gateway was not made of wood or of any other material but of the rock itself. The main part of the doors were made of grey rock, outlined with a white vein of crystal … or marble. Chalice squinted at it. She couldn’t really tell what it was but it flowed and looped in an intricate pattern, so complex, she thought, that no human artisan could have designed it. Then, Bunejab waddled through the snow to a white circle embedded to the right of the doorway. He placed his palm on the circle and Chalice gasped. The crystal veins outlining the gateway glowed white hot and split down the middle, allowing the two thick stone doors to thrust outwards, forcing the layer of snow back from the entrance. The path within lay shrouded in darkness. 
They drew near the entrance and stopped at the threshold. Cold air rushing in through the doors blew Chalice’ hair into her face. They watched in awe as Bunejab entered and touched the rock wall on the inside. The white circle on the outside was mirrored on the inside and light surged from it and lit up his tiny face. The light streaked from the center of the circle, across the inner surface of an enormous dome, in thousands of white veins that marbled the rock wall. The veins glowed and pulsed for a second until they steadied and then bright light suffused the entire dome. They could see everything as clearly as if it were daylight. With heads straight and mouths gaping, Chalice’ and Jeremiah’s eyes met as a silent communication passed between them. The knowledge of the Chinuka was truly amazing, they thought. Then they stepped inside.
A stone path stretched out several spans in front of them from the entrance, extending to the other side of the rock dome. Located at the end of the stone path, was another doorway similar to the one they had just entered. To the left stood a magnificent silver fountain that shone softly in the light. Its three intertwined spouts stretched upwards, curving around one another without touching and curled over at the top to spill water into a silver pool encircling the spouts. The pool was maybe a span in diameter and large enough to supply a constant stream of clear water. Around the fountain, lay a green pasture of soft ground, dotted with maple trees and white daisies beyond which stood another gateway. The right side of the stone pathway was given to the same kind of green pasture but was clearly intended for horses. A stone fence stretched from a large, stone building that Chalice took to be the stable, located directly to their right, all the way to the right of the doorway on the opposite side of the dome. They found that all of the structures in the dome were whole, as if someone had hand sculpted them out of the mountain rock.
“This is how they do it,” Jeremiah said softly.
“Do what?” she asked.
“Grow things. You see the trees?” he said and she nodded thoughtfully. The land keeps the water from freezing. Bunejab’s response to her question that morning popped into her head. The air inside the dome was almost hot compared to the air outside. She wanted to know what was in those silver veins on the wall.
Without a protest from either horse, they walked in slowly. She heard, and felt, the low rumble of the massive rock doors closing behind her. The slow clop of hooves quickened as they came near the stable. It seemed the horses were eager for the food they knew would be there and Chalice was suddenly reminded that they had had very little the day before. Bunejab spoke rapidly to Jeremiah and pointed toward the fountain. As Jeremiah listened, Chalice took his reins, opened the door of the stable, and led the horses inside, onto the soft dirt. She tied them to a hitching post protruding from the right wall and looked around. Seven stalls with silver gates, lined the left side of the stable, and were bedded with soft hay. Each stall opened to the pasture and let in enough light that allowed her to see the back of the stable clearly. Walking toward it, she entered a tack room. In the center was a large stone table. A hayloft hovered just above it. A thick layer of dust covered the table and she brushed it off with a small hand broom that had been hanging from one of the hooks on the wall. Apparently, the room hadn’t been used for some time.
Working quickly, she relieved Sunny and Banner of their burdens and started in on grooming them. Sunny lifted his head in the air and twitched his muzzle when she brushed and scratched his neck and chest. He loved it when she did that. Banner also enjoyed the same treatment. They deserved it, she thought, after the grueling climb they had just done for her and Jeremiah the past couple of days. Then she led them to the stalls and unbridled them. They immediately bolted for the grass outside and began to graze. After placing the saddles, saddle pads and bridles in the tack room, she hoisted their saddlebags over her shoulder with a grunt and struggled toward the door. Jeremiah’s bags were so heavy. What did he put in these bags? Rocks? she wondered. Just then, he appeared in the doorway.
“Here, let me take those,” he said, smiling at her attempt to deliver them. She thought she was doing a pretty good job of it. She was strong enough but she still handed them over to him. I’m not going to break my back over this, she thought. He lifted them in ease with one arm and she marveled at his strength.
“The horses need water,” she said as she knuckled her back. Hearing her words, Bunejab quickly jumped into the stable and ran to fetch two water buckets that he quickly filled with fountain water. He then placed them into the stalls. Taking a small pouch from his pocket, he dropped a small handful of Taluqua leaves into the buckets and then came out to meet them. Jeremiah was passing on the information to Chalice that Bunejab had been telling him.
“… yeah, the green room. It’s just beyond those doors,” he said, pointing to the doors beyond the fountain. “He says that it’s the largest of all the Chinukan villages. When Quinta returns with the fish, they’ll take us there. That is where they select their food for meals.”
“What kind of fish do they have? Where do they keep it?”
“It’s called tsökhí. They keep it stored in frozen, wooden crates located next to the village. The villagers at the top of the mountain catch tsökhí by ice-fishing on Lake Cancha, the frozen lake at the top, and trade it with the village for small crafts and materials, sometimes even for fruits and vegetables that are grown here. Bunejab says it’s really good.”
“Hmmm, I’m looking forward to seeing this room,” she said. Then she felt a tug at her coat sleeve. It was Bunejab motioning them toward the door at the end of the stone pathway. “Okay, Bunejab, we’ll follow you.”
As they walked, Chalice glanced around the dome and couldn’t help but feel a heightened sense of awareness of everything around her. It was an overwhelming feeling of peace and contentment that she realized she had been having ever since they set off from the lowlands. It had been increasing steadily for the past two days and she attributed it to being safely up the mountain, away from danger. When they arrived at the end of the path, she noted thin grooves in the rock wall. She reached over the fence and placed her hand on one of the grooves. Cool air flowed out, chilling her hand.
“Weird,” she murmured.
“Not weird,” Jeremiah remarked, pointing to the top of the dome. “Ventilation.” There were similar grooves at the top but they were wider and closer together. “The cool air flows down through the grooves and the heated air rises. It flows out of the dome at the top. It keeps the air fresh.” Chalice quirked an eyebrow at him. “My parents engineered something similar in our underground tunnel. That’s how I know.” She nodded in understanding.
Bunejab opened the door before them in the same fashion as before. Chalice wondered how it was done. Was it just by touching the circle, then? she asked herself. As in the dome, the circle outside was mirrored on the inside and Bunejab lit what appeared to be a long, wide corridor hewn out of the rock. Along the hallway, doorways were situated several spans apart on each side.
“These are the apartments,” Jeremiah said.
“What’s that?” Chalice asked, as she had been paying attention to the white circle on the wall.
“This is where we are staying tonight.”
“Oh.” She nodded.
They walked in and stopped at the first door to the right. Before Bunejab could open the door, Chalice said: “Let me try!” Then he motioned for her to step forward to the white circle.
“What do you call this?” she asked, as she pointed to it.
“He calls the circles the vellen, or vella, singular, if I’m pronouncing it correctly,” Jeremiah replied.
She placed her palm on the circle and the outline of the door brightened but did not open. She tried again. Nothing.
“There’s got to be a trick to it. Hmmm …” She tried again and was still unsuccessful. Bunejab stepped up and placed his palm on the door. It opened.
Chalice sniffed loudly. “How does he do that?!” It frustrated her when she couldn’t master something immediately. She stood there examining the circle and Jeremiah laughed.
“You can laugh all you want. I will figure this out!” she said in a sassy tone.
He shook his head, smiled, and stepped into the room. Jeremiah placed his hand on the vella inside in the door and after a second or two the room lit up just as the others had.
Chalice let out a frustrated gasp. “How did you do that?”
“I touched it while focusing my thoughts on light and it worked; well not right away, but it still lit the room. I think you have to fix in your mind what you want it to do.”
“I tried that. It didn’t work for me,” she said, frowning. Well, it was sort of true, she had been thinking of an open door, but she probably wasn’t concentrating hard enough. Still, she wondered how it worked. How does it know what you want it to do? she thought silently to herself as she stepped into the room.
The quarters within were spacious and comfortable. The kitchen lay to the left while the sitting room lay to the right. The bedrooms, she assumed, could be found along the hallway that extended from the opposite side of the room. A large love seat of polished wood and down cushions covered with a drape of soft rabbit fur sat opposite two large chairs made of the same material. A low-lying, polished wooden table sat in between them. To the right of the furniture, a large fireplace was carved into the rock, its hearth a half of a pace above the ground, with a small rock bench jutting out from just below it. Split firewood lay in a stack to the right of the bench, waiting to be used. Chalice was amazed to find that the kitchen was almost the same as Grandma Naelli’s, except for the pots, pans and other cooking utensils that hung from hooks all along the walls. They were fashioned out of a dark, glossy material, almost like dark crystal. Tall, stone cupboards with silver doors sat directly below the utensils on both walls. At the end of the right wall, a wide, deep rectangular groove was carved into the rock above a small table that sat below it. A large stone preparation table with four wooden chairs sat in the middle of the kitchen. Like the stable, there was a thick layer of dust on everything in the apartment revealing how much time had passed since its last visitor.
Bunejab rushed into the kitchen and pulled out several cloths from a cupboard. Then, he set about cleaning the rooms. Jeremiah placed their bags on the sitting room table and peeled off his thick coat that he hung from a hook on the wall next to the door. Chalice did the same. She was feeling the warmth, too, as perspiration began to bead on her forehead. Then, they set about helping Bunejab clean. In the bedchambers, the bed frames were made of stone cut from the rock wall and supported smooth, feather mattresses. In one, she lifted the bedcover of soft fur off the mattress and shook it. She immediately wished she hadn’t as it set her into what seemed to be an uncontrollable sneezing fit. Finally, when it subsided, she managed to shake the dust off and finish with the rest of the room. 
The sound of clacking cupboard doors brought her back into the sitting room. Quinta had arrived with the fish and was pulling out a large casserole made of the same crystal as the utensils. She was struggling with the weight of it. Chalice rushed over to help her. The quarters were made for humans, so, for Quinta, everything in it was twice the size it should have been. Standing on a chair, she motioned for Chalice to place the fish, which were frozen rock-hard, into the dish.
“Tsí tsônín grôn zsítsá.”
“I’m sorry?” Chalice asked, not understanding the words.
“Tsí tsônín grôn zsítsá.” Quinta pointed to the rectangular groove in the wall.
Then Chalice understood. She walked over and placed the casserole into the hollow. Quinta dragged the chair over to Chalice and jumped up on it, placing her palm on the white circle next to the hollow. Chalice watched intently as the inside of the hollow brightened slowly to a dull glow and began thawing the fish. It’s an oven! She told herself silently. It was almost like the one in Jillian’s bakery back home except without the fire, of course. She placed her hand inside and felt the pulsing heat.
“I wouldn’t stick my hand in an oven if I were you,” Jeremiah remarked wryly. He stood in the doorway next to Bunejab. She hadn’t even realized that they had finished cleaning and were waiting for her and Quinta.
“Oh, you be quiet. It’s not that hot anyway. I just want to know how it works.”
He laughed and shook his head. “You ready?” he asked.
“Oh yeah, let’s go.” She pulled her hand out of the oven and went to join them. She was eager to see the green room. At this point, with the little time they had to spend there, she wanted to learn as much about the Chinuka as Jeremiah did. Chalice noticed a wicker basket Quinta had brought with her, next to a large pitcher of water and snatched it from the sitting room table. “Do we need this?” she asked and Quinta nodded.
She and Jeremiah followed them out of the doors and into the stable room, along the path that led to the doorway beyond the fountain. Chalice glanced over her shoulder to watch the horses that were still grazing. They must be hungry, she thought. Suddenly she almost ran into the back of Jeremiah who had stopped at the gateway. He stepped up to place his palm on the wall. When the doors opened, she realized that the size of the room they were in could not even compare to the size of the room they were about to enter.
Calling it a room wasn’t exactly correct. It wasn’t just one room. The green room was composed of many domes, divided by thick pillars hewn out of the rock, that spanned many hectares of ground. The same flowing, looping design as the doorways decorated the columns that glowed. They shone brilliantly with the light that came from the marbled veins stretching from the vellen located at each door. Beneath the domes nearest them stood trees of every kind of fruit imaginable, even some that Chalice did not recognize. There were apples, pears, cherries, pineapples, peaches, bananas, lemons, limes and on and on. Interspersed among them were nut trees that provided walnuts, hazelnuts, macadamia and more. Many of them Chalice had never seen in her life. Beyond the trees, lay fields quilted in rich, cultivated soil that provided an abundance of fruits, vegetables, legumes, and herb and spice plants, grown in rows, each labeled according to what was sown. She could see that some of the fields were bare while others appeared fully cultivated. She assumed from this that the Chinuka practiced rotational farming, a method that gave the soil enough time to recuperate from the previous harvest. Another interesting fact about the room was that it employed the same irrigation system that she had seen at the Maehbeck farm — fireclay pipes that extended from the farthest dome, through the crop fields, to the apple trees in front of them.
Chalice handed the basket to Quinta who scurried about quickly, selecting the fruits and vegetables she needed for the meal. She noticed Bunejab went with her and was replenishing his supply of herbs that he stuffed into his rucksack. Chalice walked over to the apple tree and began picking a handful of them for the horses. Jeremiah just stood there watching and analyzing everything in the room. It was all he could do. He was so focused on every detail that, she assumed, would go into his journal later that night.
“Do you hear that, Chalice?” he asked, as she waddled back to him, her arms overflowing with apples. “There is running water somewhere in here.”
“Yeah, I do. It sounds like it’s coming from over there.” Her arms loaded with apples, she motioned with her head toward the back rooms, beyond the fields.
“That’s got to be an underground river or stream.” He paused for a second staring in the direction from which the sound issued; then, lowering his head toward her, he said: “This is just like our farm.” Reaching down, he took some of the apples from her load.
“Yeah, I noticed that too,” she said. He looked into her eyes and she knew they were having the same thought again. The parallel between the room and the Maehbeck farm was stretching chance a little too much. “You think your parents visit them?” she asked.
“Well, I know they don’t, or that is, they haven’t. That’s what I can’t figure.” He glanced down at one of the apples in his hand, his brows creased in thought. She loved watching him with that expression on his face. She could see the wheels turning in his head. He continued: “I’m the only one in our family who ever goes up the mountain and that’s always to hunt. I could never make it up this far; neither could anyone in my family, and we don’t have any of those tea leaves in our house. If we had, I would have found them while digging through the kitchen.” He looked up toward Quinta and Bunejab who were approaching with the basket that was abounding with fruits and vegetables. “Here they come. I’ll ask Bunejab about it tonight. I’m sure he’ll know.”
When they exited the green room, she and Jeremiah fed Banner and Sunny the apples over the fence. The horses were ecstatic about the fruit. Sunny ate his share so quickly that Chalice thought he would choke. The horses seemed content and much less tired. She could tell by their faces that they were happy. Their ears were perked and their eyes were brighter and full of energy. They galloped off, jumping and kicking.
“Look at them.” She laughed.
“Yeah, they like it here,” he replied. “We will have to take some food for them when we leave. There won’t be much for them to eat along the trail,” he added and she nodded in agreement.
Before they entered the apartments, Bunejab touched the white circle on the inside of the stable room and the light in the room slowly dimmed. After a minute or two, all they could see were shadows in a darkness that was slightly brightened by a faint glow from flickering sparkles on the dome. She understood. It simulated the night, so that the horses could sleep. Nice! she thought.
As soon as they were in the apartment, Quinta put Chalice to work cleaning the berries, which were for dessert, and cutting the vegetables that she placed into the casserole. Quinta had already removed the thawed fish and was preparing it, discarding the bones and removing the meat. She shredded it into fine layers that she arranged in the dish with the vegetables. There was cucumber, tomato, squash, peas and a selection of others Chalice didn’t recognize. All of it, Quinta seasoned with ginger and peppercorn, which according to her, aided in digestion. She also had brought cornmeal and milk made from plants and legumes in the green room. Apparently, that was going into the dish as well.
“Jeremiah,” she said, and he looked up from the hearth where he was stacking wood for a fire.
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever seen tools like these?” she asked, holding up one of the cutting knives. It was glossy and sharp and it cut like a razor.
“No, not until we came here. Bunejab says that they are made out of a material found at the top of the mountain, formed during the time when the volcano was active. It is a perfect material for cutting utensils because it keeps its shape so well and it never needs to be sharpened.”
“I believe it!” she said in amazement as she looked at the knife. They were excellent utensils. “What are you smiling at?” She had just noticed that he was snickering at her.
“You, in the kitchen,” he said wryly as he poured oil over the wood.
“Very funny! I can cook … well, as long as someone tells me what to do.”
By the time Chalice and Quinta had the casserole in the oven, Bunejab and Jeremiah had a roaring fire going and four cups of Taluqua tea resting on the sitting room table. Chalice sat down next to Quinta on the settee and immediately reached for her cup. She loved the tea.
“Can you ask Bunejab about the tea?” she asked Jeremiah. “I can actually pay for it if needed.”
“I already asked him. He gave us a small pouch of it, just enough, but not too much. They don’t give out the tea in large quantities in order to protect the mountaintop.”
“Oh I get it, to keep others out.”
“Exactly. He is asking us to be careful with it and use it only when we need to ascend the mountain.”
“Alright.” She felt a slight tug at her left shoulder where her broach was pinned on to her riding dress. Quinta was examining the broach thoroughly. “You like that?” Chalice asked and Quinta nodded. Her soft, dark eyes were wide with interest. Chalice brushed her fingers over the broach, undid it, and then pinned it on Quinta’s cloak. “There, it’s yours, for all you have done for us. It looks good on you.” She smiled and the little Chinuk squeaked and growled softly, content with her new piece of jewelry. 
They talked for a while, the conversation eventually leading to the green room, a subject on which Jeremiah had many questions. He asked Bunejab about the river water and the irrigation system.
“You know, it’s very similar to one used on my family’s farm. I’m sure you’ve noticed that too. Do you know how that can be?”
Chalice noticed Bunejab pause for just a split second with a knowing look in his eye, fast enough to not even be detected, really, but she still saw it. Then he answered.
“What did he say?” she asked.
“He says that he doesn’t know but he can show us where the water reaches our apartment.” 
Chalice nodded vigorously. “Lead the way, Bunejab.”
He led them back to the washroom, beyond the bedchambers, and proceeded to show them how to use it. As soon as Chalice entered, she immediately turned to Jeremiah. The look he gave her in return told her that he knew, too. It was exactly like the washroom in his parents’ house, comprised of everything he had shown her when they were there. The only difference was that this washroom was carved out of the rock but there was definitely a connection. She knew it now. Bunejab was hiding something. She thought it best not to press him, though. They were, after all, in his care for the duration of their stay on the mountain. She communicated the thought to Jeremiah after Bunejab and Quinta left the room to set the table for dinner.
“Yeah, I saw that too. There is something he isn’t telling us. I’m sure we will learn what it is at some point though. I trust him. Don’t you? He did save us, after all. I don’t think he would have done that just to hand us back to the King.” She nodded. She trusted the Chinuk too.
She reached up to brush the back of her hand across his cheek. “You need to shave,” she said in a low voice. “It’s a good thing there is a mirror and washstand in here. Although I like this rough look on you. It’s handsome, you know.” He gazed down at her, taking her hand in his. For a moment, he seemed to lose himself in her eyes, drowning in an ocean of blue. He looked so serious. His dark features paralyzed her and she couldn’t move a muscle. There was a slight flutter in her stomach as her heart beat so loudly that she thought he might hear it. Then he kissed her softly. She could have melted right there on the spot. Smiling, she licked her lips. He tasted like mint. A squeak from the door interrupted them. Chalice started, only to discover that it was Quinta telling them supper was ready. 
“We better go,” Jeremiah whispered and she followed him out the door.
Dinner was delicious. Whichever herbs and spices Quinta had added to the casserole before putting it in the oven blended all the flavors together perfectly. The berries and sweet milk for dessert topped it all off. She had never tasted anything like it. As soon as they were finished, Chalice rose to clean, but before she could even lift a dish, she was halted by Jeremiah’s hand on her arm.
“Bunejab is going to clean up for us. Quinta wants us to change into different clothes so she can wash the others that are dirty. You know, so we don’t have to do it along the road.”
“Oh, alright, thank you Quinta. That is really helpful,” she said and the little Chinuk smiled warmly.
In their respective bedchambers, they quickly dressed in comfortable night clothes. They placed their worn garments in a small sack and gave it to Quinta and Bunejab before they left, saying goodnight and thanking them for the wonderful meal. With the door shutting behind her, Chalice yawned and stretched. She felt as if she were about to fall over. She was so tired.
“I just thought about something,” she said, taking a seat on the chair in front of the fire. “The farm. We left the animals caged when we escaped. They’ll die without food and water.”
Pulling the notebook out of his sack, with a quill and a small ink bottle, he sat down in the chair next to her. “I thought about that too. I asked Bunejab and he said that members in his village will go down to take care of them. So we don’t have to worry.” He opened the bottle, dipped the quill, and began scratching furiously in his notebook.
“You writing about the Chinuka?” she asked, smiling at him. She knew it would be the first thing he did after dinner.
Jeremiah lifted his head from his notebook and looked at her curiously. “Of course,” he replied.
Chalice sat back in the chair, basking in the warmth of the fire, with her feet up on the stone bench. Closing her eyes, she tried to get a firm handle on the events of the day, sorting mentally in her brain everything that had happened and everything that she had learned. The amazing Chinuka and their talents. How did they know so much? The wolves. What was it about that wolf? The green room. What was the connection between it and the Maehbeck farm? And, lastly, the glowing rock wall. How did it work? Her thoughts slowed and drifted to Grandma Naelli’s kitchen, to a memory of when she was little hiding in the kitchen cupboard. She had been playing a game of cache-cache with Papa while Grandma made dinner. She thought he would never find her in her clever hiding place.
“Chalice, supper is almost ready. Where’s Papa?” Grandma Naelli asked as she placed a decanter of wine on the dinner table.
“He’s upstairs,” she replied pulling open the cupboard door and squeezing inside. 
“You two playing again?”
“Yep. He’ll never find me!”
Her grandmother shook her head, smiling. “Chalice, you always hide there and he always finds you.”
“Not this time, Gramma. I tricked him this time. He thinks I’m upstairs.” Chalice said with certainty, peeking out from behind the cupboard door.
“Hmmm, I have a feeling he knows exactly where you are,” Naelli responded knowingly. Chalice silently closed the cupboard door as Papa entered the kitchen.
“Chalice? Chalice? Naelli, have you seen Chalice? She is supposed to be upstairs. Chalice?” Suddenly the cupboard door flung open and …
“Chalice … hey ... Chalice!” Feeling a nudge on her shoulder, she opened her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Jeremiah’s excited face skewed into focus.
“What’s up?” she asked groggily.
“Look at this!” He showed her the notebook he was holding, “When I began page three of my notes on the Chinuka, I found it!”
It was a note, hastily written, mostly scribbles really, but still legible:

Your mother and I had to leave urgently. Took the corridor. We are setting out for the gate. The King’s men are here. They are gathering the villagers in town. Your brothers and friends are with them. Take care of the animals and send this message to

The note broke off. The last part of it was hard to decipher because the writing was so jumbled, as if it was written in haste.
She felt relieved for him. “They are alright then. That’s good to know!”
“I knew Father would have left a note somehow. It was smart. He must have written in it just before they left, then put it back on my bookshelf right where it had been as if it hadn’t been touched. He knew that if I left, I would take it with me. My parents took the same escape route that we did.”
“You know, that’s why their horses were gone. I wondered about that when you mentioned your family bred horses,” she said. He nodded and then pointed to the note again.
“There it is again, Chalice! The gate. What is the gate? And who am I supposed to send this message to?”
She frowned in thought as she gazed into the fire. “I don’t know. Did your father ever mention a gate somewhere?”
She looked over at him and he shook his head. “No.”
“Is there someone in particular that you can think of that he would want you to alert if there was an emergency?”
“Yeah, but they all live in the village so he couldn’t be talking about any of them.”
“Is there anyone you know who is close to your family who lives outside the Auramont Vale?”
“Just your grandparents. Maybe he wanted me to send the message to Sebastian, your grandfather.”
“That could be … but why? Why would he want that message sent to my grandfather? Is there anyone else that you can think of?”
Shaking his head, he said: “No.” Then, pausing to reflect a moment, he corrected himself: “Wait! Yes! There is an older man who used to visit us when I was young. My parents went on a search mission with him for the three years I stayed with you in Canton. They wouldn’t tell me what they were searching for though. You think my father is talking about him?”
Rubbing her temples, she said: “I don’t know, Jeremiah. I don’t know about any of this. What we do know now, though, is that your mom and dad are safe … and so are we, for the time being.” Rising from her comfortable spot she said: “I’m going to bed. Good night.” Putting her hand on his shoulder, she bent down to kiss him on the head. “I’m glad your parents are alright,” she whispered.
“Thanks Chalice. Good night,” he said quietly and touched her hand, his head still bent into his notebook. She wasn’t sure if he was still intent on deciphering the message or if he was trying to hide emotion on his face. From the angle of his shoulders, she guessed it was the latter. If I had a note from Papa right now, I would be feeling the same way, she thought to herself.
Entering her bedchamber, she tried again in frustration to dim the light and yet could not get the vella to work. Finally, she decided she was too exhausted to deal with it and curled up in the fur blanket on the mattress. For a moment, she imagined that the light was dimming by itself, slowly fading out. It was such a strange place. She couldn’t describe the feeling she had here. It was a total sense of well-being, as if everything were right with the world. She knew this was complete nonsense, of course, because not everything was right. In fact, everything was wrong. And yet here, she didn’t fear it. She didn’t fear what was ahead. She had no sense of anxiety. She had the courage to go on and the strength to continue no matter what confronted her. It was a power that didn’t come from her but from something else. She realized just then that she hadn’t been imagining it. The light was dimming. It was almost full dark in her room now, except for the faint twinkle of light from the ceiling. Just like in the stable room, she thought and yawned. Then she suddenly remembered what day it was. It was her birthday. She had forgotten. That’s right! I’m eighteen, she thought. “Happy birthday to me,” she said quietly to herself. She didn’t want to tell Jeremiah so she decided to keep it to herself. She was supposed to have spent her birthday with her grandparents and it made her sad. A tear trickled across her temple as she closed her eyes, expecting to see the marble corridor again, except this night held dreams of neither a corridor, nor a glowing gem. This night, she dreamed of home.




Chapter 7
Trouble in the High Pass

“Here, Tyke, throw it here!” Chalice shouted to Tycho as she strained and kicked to keep her head above the water. It was midsummer and they were playing a game of keep away with a small ball fashioned from bear hide that Papa had made for her. The water was cool and felt refreshing given the noonday sun that beat down upon them from directly above. It lit up the entire cove that was usually shaded by the surrounding maple trees when the sun was nearer the horizon. A beautiful aquamarine color, the small cove formed a current that swirled in a delicate whirlpool created by the inflow of water from the Créonar. It was while fighting this current that she struggled for the ball. In the water, Jeremiah was too quick for her. Working his strong shoulder muscles, he slipped past her and seized the ball. She felt her head go under as she tried to block him, pulled down by a combination of his slipstream and the undercurrent of the whirlpool. Holding onto the ball, Jeremiah turned back to find her. A few moments passed and concern tightened his face. He plunged into the water. At that instant, however, she came up gulping for air, coughing and spluttering. He was right behind her.
“Ha! You’re it again, Chalice!” Kirna exclaimed.
“Dang it! I keep losing. This is so unfair!”
“What’s unfair about it?” Tycho asked.
“He is bigger than I am,” she said.
“He’s bigger than all of us!” he replied.
“Oh whatever!”
Jeremiah, still a little shaken from her disappearance under the water, said: “Why don’t we take a break?”
“That’s a great idea! I’m starving!” Tycho said as he set out toward the bank. He was the first one there. “Chalice, did your Grandma pack those sandwiches again?” 
“Yup,” she replied, pulling herself out of the water. The wet soil squished between her toes as she moved. Regardless of the slippery mud underneath her feet, she was happy to get her footing back. She was much better on land.
They sat down on the bank and she removed the tomato and cheese sandwiches from her pack that Grandma Naelli had handed her before they left that morning. “Have fun but be careful. I want you two back before dusk. Don’t dally home,” she had said as they scampered out the door to meet their friends. As Chalice reflected on Grandma Naelli’s instructions, she handed the sandwiches to the others and they ate hungrily. That’s right. I didn’t finish my chores this morning. That’s why she wants us back early, she thought to herself. She looked out into the sparkling cove and her thoughts returned to the water.
“I’m just a lousy swimmer. That’s all it is. I can’t keep my head above the water,” she complained.
“That’s no excuse to try to pull down my swim trunks!” Jeremiah said.
“Well, it’s the only way I can get the ball from you!” she replied.
“Cheater,” he grumbled under his breath. What a little cheater she is! he thought to himself. All the same, a slight smile perked his lips. He still thought it was funny. 
Tycho was sitting to her right; his dark brown eyes examined her shoulder as he ate. “You fure dat birfmark iv real?” he asked with a mouth full of food.
She smiled at him. “Yeah, it’s real. I know. It’s strange. It looks like a tattoo but it’s not. Papa said I was born with it.” She shrugged.
“Hmmm.” He crammed the last half of the sandwich into his chubby cheeks and stood. She was always amazed at how much food he could stuff into his mouth at once and still be able to chew. Tycho was unlike any of the other kids at school. He was shorter and darker than the rest and a little pudgy around the middle. He insisted that it was still baby fat that he hadn’t grown out of yet. He was hilarious. She loved him, and Kirna, too. Kirna, who had been sitting to his right, looked over at her with her emerald eyes that shone brilliantly in the sunlight and contrasted loudly with her raven black hair that glistened with water.
“He’s going to show us his new move,” she said.
“This oughta be good.” Chalice smirked.
Tycho stood sideways a few paces in front of them. “Okay, here goes,” he said as he stepped forward swiftly with his left foot, balancing his weight on it, as he pivoted and brought his right leg up, swinging it through air in front of him, to attempt a roundhouse kick. Suddenly, he lost his balance and fell backward, his left foot coming out from under him as he crashed down into the soft sand.
Chalice almost choked on the last bit of her sandwich. They were all laughing hysterically. No one else in the world could do that and make it look so comical.
“Smooth move, Tyke! You should try that one in class tomorrow. Shaunta Nym will love it!” she said, as he pulled himself from the ground, brushing sand from his swim trunks.
“Well, I tried.” He shrugged. “I’m still a better swimmer than both of you.” He was right. He was an excellent swimmer, even better than Jeremiah.
“Yes, you are,” Kirna said warmly to him as he retook his seat next to her. She put her arm around his shoulder. “You alright?” she asked and he nodded. Then she looked over at Chalice. “Are we going to Marie’s later?”
“No, Jeremiah and I have to be back early,” she replied, shooting a rueful look at her best friend. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I didn’t finish my chores this morning.” Kirna nodded. Then she leaned back on the soft ground to bask in the sunlight. The others followed suit, except for Jeremiah who sat up peering out into the water, apparently in deep thought, as always. Chalice closed her eyes and lay there, soaking in the heat and loving every minute of it. Moments passed and when she re-opened her eyes, her friends, and the cove, were gone. It took her a moment to realize what she was seeing. Above her was grey stone, veined with silver light that shone down on her face and warmed the room. It was the heat that woke her. Oh right, I’m not at home anymore, she remembered.
She pulled herself out of bed and dragged her feet into the sitting room, where she found her clothes on the divan, freshly laundered. Jeremiah was sitting down at the table, eating breakfast. She smiled and sat down with him. There was hot tea and warm bread with fresh fruit and honey.
“Good morning.” She smiled. “Did they bring all of this for us?”
“Yeah, isn’t it great? It almost makes me want to stay here with them.” He smiled, thinking about the two little Chinuka. Chalice pulled a note from under the breadbasket. It was covered with Chinukan letters.
“What does this say?”
“He wants us to stop by his hut before we set off.”
“Yeah, we should say goodbye and thank them before we leave,” she replied nodding, and filled her plate with food.
After a healthy breakfast, they washed, dressed, and packed their belongings. Jeremiah took a last glance at his notebook before stuffing it into his bag. Chalice let him do the honors of opening the doors on the way to the stable room as she still hadn’t gotten the hang of how to work the vellen. Once under the dome, she immediately noticed the change of light, simulating the morning sunlight. Working silently, they bridled and saddled the horses, attaching their saddlebags. Chalice noticed an extra bag in the tack room that Bunejab had filled with fruit for the horses, and showed Jeremiah, who strapped it to the back of his saddle. Then quietly, almost reluctantly, they led them out the gateway.
As the doors opened, Chalice’ hair and coat flap were brushed backwards as a rush of cold air poured in upon them. She immediately felt the cold, biting chill. On the road again, she lamented silently to herself. They led the horses down the path to the Bea’s hut and Jeremiah knocked softly on the frozen crystal of the window. Bunejab’s little face appeared and he smiled at them, chattering something that they couldn’t hear. In a flash, he was out the door, rucksack in hand and sporting a thick, hooded, leather coat with fur on the inside to add to his own.
“I think he wants to come with us,” Jeremiah said to Chalice.
Bunejab just stared up at them as if they should have known that that was what he had intended all along. He motioned to the horses. He seemed to be in a hurry to get going. Just then, the door of the hut burst open and Quinta stormed out. Bunejab’s little beady eyes widened with fear. He turned slowly toward his wife who jabbered at him so furiously that Chalice thought she was going to explode. Chalice looked a question at Jeremiah.
“She doesn’t want him to leave,” he said.
“Well, that’s understandable,” she replied.
After delivering her husband a long-winded diatribe, Quinta stomped back into the house and slammed the door. They looked at Bunejab, who stood there glancing back and forth, in indecision, between them and the house. He appeared torn and worried. Moments passed and he still couldn’t decide what to do. Chalice felt badly for the little Chinuk and was about to tell him to stay with his family when Quinta emerged again from the hut with a small bundle of food in her hand. She gave it to her husband and kissed him on the cheek. Then she returned to the warmth of her home.
Bunejab stuck the bundle in his sack and whirled around on the spot. He was smiling. He ran up and raised his arms to Chalice who took that to mean that he wanted to ride with her. She leaned down and picked him up, placing him in his usual spot in front of Sunny’s saddle.
“Women!” Jeremiah exclaimed, placing his foot in the stirrup of his saddle.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Nuthin’,” he replied.
“Yeah, right!” she said sassily and mounted.
As they strode back down the path toward the cliff, Chalice glanced back toward the hut. Quinta had stuck her head out of the door and was watching them leave. Chalice wasn’t sure if it was her imagination but she thought that Quinta had a knowing look in her eye. Chalice then turned back around and listened to Bunejab, who directed them to the left at the base of the cliff. Passing the gateway in the rock wall that led to the green room, they rode out onto the trail that led up the mountain.
Five more days passed before they reached the crater ridge at the top of the mountain. During the ascent, the trail proved treacherous. It narrowed in places and was littered with hidden fragments of ice and sleet that threatened to send them tumbling down the mountainside. The air also grew increasingly colder, producing a fierce, blistering wind that forced them to pull up their hoods and don their gloves. Chalice and Jeremiah even had to swath their faces in scarves for protection from the frost, which covered almost every part of them. Each night, they found a suitable place sheltered from the wind, near a water source, even if semi-frozen, in which to clear the snow and set up camp. This time, while preparing the bedding, Chalice dug a shallow depression into the ground for each set of blankets. More knowledgeable about the temperature of the land, she realized this would keep them warmer at night, which became more and more necessary the farther up the mountain they climbed. She also found that the tea they were given proved indispensable in order to fight off the altitude sickness and the frost. Their food, however, was running dangerously low.
Finally, midmorning, on the fifth day, they arrived at a deep pass that was sharply cut into the top of the ridge. From the peak, they could see the entire valley of the caldera, the center of which cradled a great frozen lake dotted with small Chinukan camps of ice-fishers going about their daily work. The white valley and trees that surrounded the lake sheltered small villages, which resembled almost perfectly that of the Beas. The sky was a dark and cloudless blue. A few of its brightest stars sparkled like diamonds through the thin atmosphere. The savage wind whistled loudly through the pass in an attempt to knock them from the mountain. Chalice turned her head eastward from the windswept volcanic peak to peer wide-eyed at the low cloud cover that blanketed the Auramont Vale. Beyond it extended an almost limitless expanse of blue ocean stretching out toward the horizon. The majesty and grandeur of the view was awesome. It was both beautiful and terrifying. What being could have even imagined, much less created, something so magnificent? she wondered to herself silently.
“I never believed I would ever see the top of Mt. Vaassa!” Chalice shouted excitedly at Jeremiah, who could barely hear her due to noise of the wind and the scarf around her face that muffled her words. 
He shook his head. “Me neither!”
She was about to heel Sunny forward when Bunejab shook her arm and pointed to a small path, carved into the side of the ridge, that wound around the inside of its steep slope.
“But this is the way across the top, isn’t it?” she asked him, motioning forward and down the pass. Jeremiah drew his mount closer to the Chinuk. Bunejab chattered something at them and Chalice turned to Jeremiah.
“Did you get that?” she asked.
“Yeah, he wants to show us something.”
She reined Sunny to the left and they proceeded along the narrow ridge. Jeremiah, being as chivalrous as ever, insisted on riding nearer the edge, blocking her from the dangerous precipice. She could see the fear in his eyes, though, as he kept glancing sideways anxiously. She knew he was afraid of heights and had to smile at his courage. Mindful of their unsafe position, with the wind still whipping their cloaks, they traveled carefully along the path. Finally, after a few minutes, Bunejab pointed toward the top of the ridge and they saw them. They were huge, deep, lava caves that dotted the snow. They were naturally molded into the ridge wall by the constant melting and re-freezing of rock during eruptions of volcanic magma when the mountain was active. Bunejab turned away from the ridge to look at Chalice and Jeremiah. He was sad and his eyes sparkled with tears. He chattered something at Jeremiah.
“He says their friends used to live here but they are gone now.”
“Which friends?”
“The ones that protected them from the wolves, I think.”
“Oh, I see,” she said, slowly, nodding and she gave the little Chinuk a small hug. “Don’t worry Bunejab. They’ll come back someday.” She had no idea who or what she was talking about, or even if they would come back, but it was the only thing she could think to say. It seemed to cheer him up all the same. This made her feel better. Turning back in the opposite direction, they vigilantly found their way back to the high pass.
As they descended, Bunejab instructed them to be alert and keep a sharp eye. It reminded her of what Jeremiah had told her before about the Chinuka and their policy of protecting the mountain. As they entered the valley, they found themselves crossing through the thicket of sequoias that wrapped around lake Cancha. The trees were almost completely covered by the snow, frost and ice. Only a few brown and green patches could be seen as they rode. Fortunately, the wind did not follow them into the trees, which allowed them to lower their hoods and scarves. Hours passed and they found themselves very near the opposite side of the valley as the daylight was fading. Chalice was relieved that their passage over the mountain was progressing peacefully. If only it had remained that way.
Suddenly, out of the trees from all sides, sprang a band Chinukan guards dressed in thick, dark, furred cloaks, brandishing spears and crossbows at them. They formed a tight circle around the horses. Chalice froze, not moving a muscle. The largest of them, a dark, rough-looking Chinuk who held a crossbow, chittered angrily at Bunejab.
“His name is Grogan and he wants to speak with Bunejab,” Jeremiah told her.
With a little help from Chalice, Bunejab clambered down Sunny’s side and approached the Chinukan guard. Bunejab appeared to be explaining to him what they were doing and why they were there. 
After a minute or two of listening, Jeremiah said: “Grogan wants us to turn back and return down the east side of the mountain. Bunejab is trying to reason with him but it’s not going very well.” 
Chalice groaned. After all of the effort it took to get there, the last thing she wanted to do was turn back. She considered dismounting and walking over to help, but then she mentally kicked herself. What could I do? I don’t even know the language! Just then, another Chinuk, who looked very much like Bunejab, almost exactly, in fact, ran up and seized Grogan’s arm. Grogan turned to face the newcomer and listened to what he had to say. Then he nodded. They turned to Bunejab and said something in unison. He nodded and Jeremiah’s eyes widened.
“What?” she asked, noting the look on his face.
“That’s Mooky, Bunejab’s brother,” he answered.
Bunejab has a brother?! she thought. There is another one just like him?! She would have laughed at the thought if it hadn’t been for their precarious situation. He continued: “They’re taking us to King Futhark and Queen Svati.”
“Why?”
“I think so he can plead his case to them. We are lucky Mooky is here. Grogan doesn’t seem to like Bunejab very much.”
Walking in front of Grogan and the other guards, Bunejab and Mooky motioned to Chalice and Jeremiah to follow. They complied. Chalice gave a furtive glance backwards. She had a feeling they would be escorted as well and, sure enough, the other guards remained behind them, crossbows and spears aimed in their direction.
“They mean business,” she said to Jeremiah, giving him a sharp look.
“Yes!” he said, nodding strongly.
They passed a small village and soon arrived at the rock face of the caldera ridge. Chalice and Jeremiah dismounted and handed the reins to one of the guards. Here we go! she thought and shot a nervous look at Jeremiah. He patted her shoulder. They turned to follow their escort to a large gateway in the rock that Grogan opened using a vella embedded to the right. The cool rush of air blew past them as the doors opened outwards revealing a long hallway with a bright light at the end.
As soon as they had walked the length of the hallway, they entered an interior dome and could see a congregation of Chinuka positioned on both sides of a wide, red carpet that stretched from the entrance to the throne of the King and Queen, several spans down. Apparently, they had been waiting for them. How did they know? she wondered.
Seeming to read her thoughts, Jeremiah said: “A scout came before us to tip them off.”
“How do you know that?” she asked.
“I heard Mooky say it,” he whispered.
They entered and Chalice noticed that the dome was just like the one in Bunejab’s village, except along the walls, at intervals, there were tunnels, or passages, that extended from the dome and led to other rooms in the mountain. A tiny drumbeat like music could be heard faintly from one of the passages. All in the room were glaring at them. It seemed hours before they reached the end of the carpet. She felt as if she wanted to run and hide under a table somewhere. It was unnerving.
The throne rested upon a raised stone platform, which brought the Chinukan King and Queen to eye level with Chalice. They appeared no different from the other Chinuka except for their cloaks, which were of a thick, dark blue, silky material, striped with white and grey fur. She expected the King to stand and address them, but instead, it was Queen Svati who stood. Then Chalice remembered what Jeremiah had said during their trip up the mountain. Another interesting aspect of Chinukan society is that it is largely matriarchal. It was the Âwásötah who governed them. That’s right, she thought. I forgot.
As the Queen rose from her chair of polished wood, she did not, as Chalice expected, appear angry or hostile. This may have had something to do with the twenty or so guards that stood watch behind the throne. They held finely worked Chinukan weapons. I thought that the Chinuka were peaceful and yet they seem to have all these weapons, she wondered. Then she thought: Well, I suppose they need to protect themselves. Queen Svati gazed warmly in their direction and addressed Bunejab slowly. Bunejab bowed low and slowly responded to her, carefully choosing his words. Jeremiah listened intently to the discussion.
“What are they saying?” she whispered.
Jeremiah whispered back, under his breath: “She wants to know why he brought us here. He explained to her that we were in danger in Branbury and that he wanted to see us safely to the other side of the mountain.”
“What did she say?”
“She told him that the problems of humans are no longer the problems of the Chinuka.”
Chalice looked up. Bunejab apparently had paused, trying to conjure the next persuasive argument to deliver. Then he spoke, very loudly and slowly, so that he was clearly audible to all in the room. As he spoke, there were loud gasps from the crowd. A low buzz of Chinukan murmurs issued from among the congregation. Everyone stirred and some of them stomped out of the dome angrily. Even the Queen held an expression of shock on her face.
“What did he say?” Chalice asked eagerly. She was frustrated. She wanted to understand the language.
“I’m not sure. I don’t know what all the words mean but he said that you are the child of the Elîn’Mörá who will end the Rôi’Státchèn and bring about a return to the First Time and a return of the Naezzi.”
“A return of … what?! The Elîn’Mörá? What is the Elîn’Mörá?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” he replied, shrugging.
A child of the Elîn’Mörá? She wondered if it had something to do with her family. Does Bunejab know something about my family? she wondered. What else does he know?
Just then, the Queen clapped her hands and a guard came running up. She muttered something to him and he rushed out of the room. Then she descended the steps and placed herself square with Chalice, peering up and studying her. Chalice glanced around the room nervously. She didn’t know what to do, so she just stood there. Finally, the guard returned, panting tiredly as he handed the Queen a small box that was ornately hand-crafted of dark, polished wood. Then Queen Svati turned to Chalice and proffered it. Bowing her head, Svati muttered: “Aukâwá,” and something else that Chalice didn’t understand. Chalice looked at Jeremiah.
“She wants you to take it,” he said.
She complied, opening the golden latch on the front and lifting the lid. Inside, on a cushion of cream silk, lay a sharp dagger and a beautifully shaped gem that sparkled in the light of the dome. They were cut of the same material as the utensils that she had used while cooking with Quinta. She closed the box and addressed the Queen, bowing her head.
“Thank you,” she said while deliberating carefully. What the heck am I supposed to do with this? Why is she giving it to me? I hope she doesn’t expect me to cook for her, she thought. She didn’t dare ask about it or say anything else. She just wanted to leave and return to their passage down the mountain.
Queen Svati addressed Chalice once again and Jeremiah said: “She has invited us to dine with them in the hall. There is music and dancing.” He motioned to the passage from which the drumbeat issued. The memory of spiced fish in vegetables that they had enjoyed with Quinta and Bunejab darted through her mind and she was tempted to accept the offer but she still felt uncomfortable among the Chinuka, particularly among those who continued to scowl in their direction. She directed a face at Jeremiah to express her thoughts and he understood. Turning to the Queen he said: “Thank you very much but we really need to pass over the mountain as soon as we can.” Bunejab translated the response.
The Queen nodded, bowing her head in respect to Jeremiah and said: “Hâjyàh zûnlàkû, Státtèkráj.” She then turned to speak to Grogan. Shrinking, he appeared defeated and bowed to her. Bunejab and Mooky smiled at each other, bowed to the Queen and King, and then turned to leave. Ignoring Chalice and Jeremiah, they spoke to each other in rapid Chinukan as they strode the length of the red carpet.
Jeremiah looked at Chalice. “I guess that’s it! We get to go.” They paid their respects to the Queen and King, then followed Bunejab and his brother down the rug and out the door. They did not look back, not even to see that the Âwásötah was watching them keenly as they went. 
While Jeremiah untied the horses, Chalice stuffed the small box into her saddlebag, remarking that there was barely enough space left in it for anything else. After gathering provisions, that Jeremiah stuffed into his bag, and saying goodbye to Mooky, they remounted. Bunejab rode with Jeremiah this time as they headed back to the high pass from which they had come. As they arrived at the trail, Chalice suddenly realized why little Chinuk had been so intent on traveling with them. They would never have made it without him. She looked over at him, nestled in the pommel of Banner’s saddle.
“Bunejab?” she said and he turned toward her, squeaking something in his language. “What is the Elîn’Mörá? Does it have something to do with my family?”
Bunejab paused for a moment before answering. When he was finished, Jeremiah translated, glancing down in suspicion at the little Chinuk. “He says that he made all that up because he had to tell the Âwásötah something that would persuade her to let us pass through.”
“Hmmm,” she murmured to herself, staring at him with narrowed eyes. She knew this couldn’t be true. Why would the Chinuka have reacted in such a way? Why would the Queen have given her the box? She was beginning to notice that there was more to Bunejab than she had previously believed. He is tricky, she thought to herself. And he knows more than he is letting on. For the moment, however, she decided not to press him with any more questions. After all, they had the mountain to descend and their survival depended on staying alert. She would try again later.
“Jeremiah,” she said glancing over at him.
“Yeah?”
“What was that the Queen called you and me?” she asked.
“You mean, Aukâwá and Státtèkráj?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“The are the feminine and masculine form of the word steward, if you are addressing someone in a general fashion. They also mean caretaker or caregiver.”
“Steward? Why would she call us stewards?”
His cheeks turned slightly rosy and he said: “Well, to the Chinuka, we are all stewards, or caretakers, of each other, of other creatures and of the land around us but I don’t think that that is what she meant just then. You see, the names can also mean Master and Mistress, or …” he paused for a moment and then continued, “… they can mean Husband and Wife.”
Then it suddenly dawned on her. “You mean, she thought we were married?” She smiled. She liked the sound of that.
He nodded. “I think so.” He didn’t look at her and was too embarrassed to say any more on the subject although he knew in his heart that they would be someday. So they traveled on in silence, all of them happy to be on their way once again. The crater ridge was steep but their journey proceeded virtually uninterrupted. Once they breached it, Chalice’ worries of having to turn back disappeared and they spent the next seven days descending the mountain.




Chapter 8
White Beauty

He stirred in the darkness of the trees, instinctually tracking the movement paces away with a practiced eye that pierced the twilight. The morning mist slithered in between the Sequoias and settled upon his wet nose, informing him that they were near. The scent was strong this close. They had been stalking it for the past two sunrises since they had left the great frozen lake. He knew the pack surrounded him nearby. Although they were unseen and concealed in the white of the forest, he could feel their presence. The shriek of the Niquilas overhead heralded the coming sun, informing those dwelling beneath that daybreak was approaching. Apart from Nipha, the snow eagles were the only creatures in the Trui’Quirre with keener senses than the Huskamau. For this reason, no Niquila prey was safe and for those small, unfortunate animals, the cry of the Niquila was a warning of impending doom. The Huskamau, however, did not warn. They did not announce their hunt. They went in silently, swiftly, and deadly. Their prey never knew of their presence until it was too late. This rider, however, was not prey. She was something else. She was not a wolf, but she was familiar, just as his father had been familiar. She was just like him. He would never forget. It was his purpose for being there. He was charged with one last duty before he could rest. Just one more task and then … peace ...
Chalice found that the trail on the west side of the mountain was easier and the horses were tiring less because of it. The days were cold and the nights were colder but they had just enough provisions to sustain them. In the afternoon on the fourth day, they halted by a stream to enjoy a late lunch and water the horses. It was the first stream that they had encountered on the west side on which the surface wasn’t completely frozen over. This was a convenience, as they did not have to break through the ice to refill their water skins. Gnawing hungrily on a morsel of bread and cheese, she looked up from her saddlebag and saw her. She was on the other side of the snowy stream. She had come for water as well.
“Jeremiah!” she exclaimed and he turned. Then he saw what held her attention. He didn’t move but stood there gaping as Bunejab waddled up to stand in between them.
“I don’t believe it!” he said under his breath. He turned to her and saw the question in her eyes. “You know which horse that is, right?” he asked.
“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I don’t. Should I?”
“Most people do. That’s White Beauty. She’s also known as Hooves Bane. Maybe you’ve heard the name.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “That sounds familiar. How do you know it’s her?”
“No other horse could survive this high up the mountain. Also, there is no other wild horse in the Realm, at least, not that I know.”
Chalice turned to watch her as she drank from the stream. She was the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. She was pure white with four dark hooves and dark eyes. Her forelock, mane and tail were as white as the snow and they draped down her forehead, neck and rear, blowing smoothly in the cool wind.
“Why is she called Hooves Bane?” she asked, still fixated on the horse.
“Because no one can catch her. She’s too fast. Many people have tried and failed. Some have even run their horses to the point of lameness in the attempt. It’s amazing that she has come this close to us. She usually keeps a healthy distance from people.”
“She’s beautiful!” Chalice murmured slowly. The horse drew its head up, gazing directly into her eyes from across the stream. Suddenly, Chalice’ mind cleared and then she knew. “Nipha,” she said without thought. It was the first word that came to her, as though it was a faint whisper from souls passing through generations of time.
“What’s that?” Jeremiah looked at her curiously.
“That’s her name.”
“What?” he asked skeptically, creasing his brow. “Right! How do you know?”
“I just know.”
“You mean, you just made that up.”
“No, that’s her true name.”
Jeremiah smiled and shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I suppose that means something in Angaulic then? Am I right?”
“Yes,” she replied quietly. Just then, the horse threw her beautiful head back and jumped to her right, tossing snow in the air, and cantered off through the trees.
“So,” Jeremiah said in a patronizing tone. “What does Nipha mean then?”
“It means … Snow … that’s …” She trailed off, mesmerized, watching the horse canter away, wondering what she was and how she had gotten there. Jeremiah decided not to tease her further and turned to refit his saddle, straightening his bag on Banner’s back.
Chalice felt hot breath near her ear and she turned to stare straight into Sunny’s muzzle. He was standing there as if to say: “Hey! What about me? Did you forget me?” She grabbed his reins and scratched his neck. 
“I didn’t forget you, boy,” she whispered warmly to him. Then they remounted and were soon back on the trail.
Three days later, in the afternoon, they reached the base of the west side of Mt. Vaassa where the light was already fading from the height of the mountain that blocked the afternoon sun from the east. All the same, it was blessedly warm and Chalice felt relieved. At last they had made it. At the first crossroad they came to, Bunejab motioned them to the right, and they continued to the next village that lay along the road. Bunejab had said they were going to Woodrock. He had shown them the location on Chalice’ map that morning and she had been anticipating arriving there all day. She was looking forward to a hot bath and a soft bed in a nice inn somewhere. When they arrived at Woodrock, however, Chalice wasn’t sure if they had made a mistake.




Chapter 9
Woodrock

“This is a village?” Chalice looked over at Jeremiah, who shrugged.
“It’s on the map,” he said. “Doesn’t look like much, does it?”
Before arriving in the town square, they had passed several farms along the main road. Protected by the forests that surrounded them, they sat back behind the trees where travelers could only view them from far-off. A distant look was all she needed, though, to gauge what they would find in the village. The town square held an air of melancholy, as everything appeared to be in a state of disrepair. The village consisted of a collection of concentric wooden shacks that had few windows, many of which were either cracked or broken. She assumed that these were shops. They sat side-by-side, almost leaning on one another for support. The wood was worn and splintered with flecks of white or brown in places where the paint had not yet completely peeled off. There were no signs posted above or below any of the shops to advertise their wares. Chalice deduced that the town folk must not have needed signs because they all seemed to know where they were going. She also noticed that small displays were placed in the door-front of some of the shops, meant to attract customers. Many of the milling crowd displayed tired, heavily lined faces and wore dirty, ragged clothes. All of them sported clogs that protected their feet from the dirt and small pebbles that littered the tangled web of streets. Most were on foot although some rode in dilapidated wagons, with squeaky wheels, that carried farmed goods and smelled of horse and dust. In the middle of the square sat a plain, stone fountain that provided a large pool of clear, drinkable mountain water.
As they strode into the square, many of the townspeople glanced in their direction. They stood out like black sheep. Not only were they of finer dress, they were also carrying a Chinuk with them, which was unheard of even in villages close to the mountain. Until this moment, it had never occurred to Chalice that Bunejab might draw attention. The closer they rode, the more Chalice began to itch with that uncomfortable feeling that she had had in the Chinukan throne room. She could feel the glares on her back as they passed the fountain.
“Is it just me or ...” Chalice began.
“No, I feel it too. Let’s get out of here,” Jeremiah interrupted. Bunejab tapped him on the arm and pointed down a path that extended through the trees from the square to their left. They reined the horses in the direction of the path and rode on at a brisk pace, not looking back. After a few minutes, they heard a trickle of flowing water that grew into a wide stream running parallel to the road. A large building appeared on the right side of the road in the distance.
“This way, Chalice.” Jeremiah turned Banner to the left into a thicket that blocked them from view of the building. As they approached, walking along a winding path through the trees, the huge building swam into focus and they could see it clearly from where they were. The sign above the front door read: Woodrock Creek Inn. The inn was nothing like the shacks in the town square. It looked brand new. It was sturdy, freshly painted of dark green and outlined in rusty brown. It stood in between the road and the creek. A sloping mountainside of silver firs adorned its background. The matching stable, constructed in the same color and quality, peeked out from the copse of trees on the opposite side of the dirt road, just across from the inn. Well-to-do visitors and inn workers were bustling about in between the two structures. It appeared that businessmen, and other travelers, who journeyed from Auramont to Culmanoq and back, frequented this inn. For this reason, it seemed, it was in much better condition than the rest of the village. The melancholy she had felt back in the town, however, still lingered. It was a strange feeling that she couldn’t quite explain.
Jeremiah turned to Chalice. “How are we going to get him in there without anyone noticing?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. I’m so dumb, I never thought of it.” She paused, thinking and then said: “What if we wrap him in one of the blankets to hide his face and pretend he’s a child?”
Jeremiah frowned. “Hmmm ... that might work. Let’s try it.”
They dismounted and Chalice removed the woolen blanket from her saddlebag. Jeremiah folded it and wrapped it around the little Chinuk, clipping it in the front with one of Chalice’ hair clips that she had dug out of her bag. He pulled the hood forward just enough so that Bunejab’s face was hidden in shadow. With his face blocked by the cloth, the little Chinuk tried to make his way over to Chalice. It was clear, however, that he couldn’t see where he was going as he headed straight for the tree to her right. Stepping accidentally on a loose end of the blanket, he tripped, and fell forward into the bark of the tree. Bouncing off, he landed on the ground, flat on his face. Chalice gasped and rushed over to help him.
“You alright?” she asked with concern.
Jeremiah let out a sigh of frustration. “Right, okay, this isn’t going to work.”
As she was holding the Chinuk in her arms to lift him to his feet, the solution came. “I’ve got it. You go in and get us a room. Be sure to ask for a stream side room. Tie the horses over there …” she said, pointing to the hitching post, “… but take the bags with you. I’ll stay here with him until you give us a signal. Once we have it, I’ll wrap him in the blanket and carry him in my arms to the back of the inn. There’s no one back there. We can hoist him up with the rope from your bag through one of the windows.”
“Genius!” he exclaimed. “Alright, so, what’s the signal?”
“Uh …” she brainstormed. “Once you have the room key, put the horses in the stable and I’ll watch until you re-enter the inn. After a minute or two, we’ll be there.”
“Uh, okay.” He nodded. “Here we go,” he said walking over to the horses and grabbing the reins. He led the horses across the street and proceeded according to plan. As soon as the horses were in the stable, he disappeared again into the front door of the inn. 
“You ready, Bunejab?” The Chinuk nodded as he was wrapped, once more, tightly into the blanket. Hefting him up onto her shoulder, she inconspicuously walked out of the trees and over to the inn. No one even noticed what appeared to be a young mother carrying a sleeping child around to the back side. Once there, Chalice peered down the river rock foundation upon which the inn stood. Jeremiah’s brown head popped out of one of the windows on the second floor a few spans down. She rushed over and set the Chinuk on the ground.
“Keep the blanket on, okay?” she told him quietly and the portion of the blanket that hooded his face nodded. She smiled.
“Toss me the rope!” she whispered up to the window and the end of a rope fell into her hand.
“Bunejab, I’m going to tie this around your chest and under your shoulders.” As she said this, he raised his arms and she giggled. He looked like one of the ghosts from the autumn costume Festival of the Dead that they celebrated in Canton each year. Once the rope was securely knotted, she gave Jeremiah the thumbs up. Slowly, what appeared to be a little brown ghost rose up into the air in spurts until it disappeared into the window. Jeremiah’s head poked out of the window once more and he held up two fingers, that he flashed at her twice while mouthing the words: “Room two-twelve.”
She gave him another thumbs-up and ran around to the front of the inn. Yes! We did it and no one saw, she told herself, or at least that is what she had thought for in their haste, both of them had failed to see the dark, cloaked figure hidden in the shadow of a large tree across the stream, watching them as they worked.
The front door of the inn flew open and a tall, burly man in a smock with a leather tool belt around his thick waist stormed out, almost trampling Chalice and barely noticing. She flung herself to the side and watched him as he turned and tore off toward the west end of the inn.
“I … I’m sorry my lady …” said the innkeeper who fumbled about in the doorway. He motioned his arms to welcome her in. “I humbly ask your pardon. That’s Jadron, one of our blacksmiths and woodcutters. He’s having a bad day. There have been too many horses this past week needing shoeing and I’m afraid he hasn’t been able to keep up with the demand.” The innkeeper was short and stout, with a small, pointed grey beard and a round, friendly face. He wore a white apron over his brown shirt and britches, and leather brogans on his feet.
“Oh, uh, no, that’s fine,” she stammered. “Really, it’s no problem.” She entered the large dining room, filled with polished wooden tables that sat in rows on the smooth river rock floor. The low buzz of chatter, issuing from the small, scattered groups of seated guests, filled the room.
“Name’s Duncan. Pleased to meet you! Welcome to my inn!” He extended his hand and she shook it. Gesturing with his arm, he said: “This room is where we serve meals. To your left you will find private dining rooms for rent, if you so desire, and to your right, a tavern lounge, where we have music and dancing in the evenings for guests.” She glanced around, looking for Jeremiah. The walls of dark, polished wood stretched to the right and left, opening to wide hallways where men and women strode in and out. There was a door in the opposite wall that she assumed led to the kitchen.
“Will you be wanting a room for the night?” he asked eagerly.
“Actually, can you tell me how to get to room two-twelve? My friend has already rented one,” she replied.
“Oh yes, the tall, handsome boy who was just in.” She nodded and he continued: “You will want to take that staircase to the second floor. Turn right at the top and it should be a few doors down,” he told her, pointing to the winding staircase to her left. She thanked him and excused herself.
Ascending the steps very slowly, she held the rail that was worked in wrought iron and peered behind her at the room she was leaving. She couldn’t understand the huge economic disparity between this man’s inn and the town. What happened to them? Why was there so much poverty in the village? she wondered. She felt badly for the townspeople but she knew there was nothing she could do. Pushing the thought out of her mind, she continued around the winding stairs and the lower room fell from view. Arriving at the top, she walked down the hallway and found door two-twelve. She knocked twice and the door swung open.
“Ah, thank the heavens!” she said as she entered. The room was decent. It held two large feather beds that were separated by a wooden bedside table. A writing desk sat in the corner near the fireplace, next to a stack of firewood. A door to the washroom opened to the left of the beds, near the window. The washroom provided a washtub and a stand with a washbowl filled with fresh water. Plush, white towels, a bottle of soda water and a cup lay to the left of it. Jeremiah was sitting on one of the beds and Bunejab was at the desk, writing in his notebook, propped up on a couple of thick books, with his little feet dangling in the air. She plopped down onto the soft, fur blanket of the opposite bed and sighed happily.
“Chalice?”
“Yeah?” She turned her head on the cushion and looked at Jeremiah. His brow was creased, which told her that he had been thinking seriously about something.
“We need supplies … badly,” he said and she groaned. She didn’t want to return to the town although she didn’t feel much better here either, for some reason. Maybe I am still feeling homesick, she thought to herself.
“Alright. We should go before it gets too dark,” she said and reluctantly sat up.
Jeremiah threw his rucksack over his shoulder and turned toward the desk. “Bunejab, you stay here and hold down the fort, okay?” The Chinuk nodded and returned intently to his notes.
Dragging herself from the warm softness of the bed, Chalice followed Jeremiah out of the inn. They decided not to take the horses as the town was close enough to go by foot. They also wanted to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Although it probably won’t do much good. They’ll recognize us anyway, Chalice thought. How many people in these parts travel with a Chinuk? Realizing that having Bunejab accompany them to Chainbridge was going to prove difficult, and considering the danger of their journey, she turned to Jeremiah.
“You know, if he decides to continue on with us, we’re going to have to hide him at every inn we go to.”
“Yeah, I thought about that too. He seems to be set on traveling with us, though, and I don’t have the heart to tell him to go back home.”
“But shouldn’t he be with his family?” she asked
“Well, yeah, probably,” he replied.
“You know, he will be safer back in his village too,” she added. “He has been so helpful, I don’t want to take him where he’ll be in danger.” 
Jeremiah nodded. “You’re right.” He paused in thought, then continued: “We’ll talk to him about it later.”
“Alright,” she replied and they were silent for the rest of the journey.
A quarter of an hour passed before they found themselves entering the cluster of deteriorating shacks again. As they drew near the center, where the fountain lay, they passed an old woman who was seated under a shop window to their left. She was clothed in dirty brown rags and was seated on a cloth, knitting a garment with yellow yarn. A dirty plate of chicken bones lay to her left and an empty cup sat on her right. The multitude of wrinkles on her face spoke of a life of many hard years and of a future of no promise. Chalice could discern by her straight, unblinking stare and by the cataracts that clouded her eyes, that she was blind.
Chalice motioned silently for Jeremiah to stop. When he halted, she reached behind him and opened the rucksack hanging on his shoulder. Groping for the moneybag inside, she managed to dig out two silver sterlings that she softly placed into the woman’s cup.
“Thank you, sweet princess,” the woman said, without moving her head, staring straight at the shop opposite her. Chalice paused as she straightened, peering down keenly at the woman. How does she know I’m a woman?
“Chalice,” Jeremiah whispered and pulled her over to the side, away from the old woman. “We can’t be giving out our money right now. Our journey is uncertain and we don’t know how much longer it will sustain us.”
“I know, Jeremiah, but look at her. Look at all the people in this town. It’s heartbreaking,” she said quietly. He frowned in thought, as he knew she was right. He was right, too, and she knew it.
“Alright, I understand your point. I’m just saying that we shouldn’t make a habit of it right now,” he replied.
She looked into his brown eyes and nodded.
Just then a tanned, dark-haired woman in a bright yellow dress and sandals appeared in the doorway of the shop to their right. She was collecting a basket of herbs from her display that sat outside the door. She seemed to move with the grace and air of a swan on a still pond. As she straightened, she looked at Chalice and smiled. She was very beautiful, with large, dark eyes and red lips. She contrasted loudly with the town around her. As she looked closer, Chalice noticed that she had a small scar just under her right eye. 
“Hello,” she said warmly. “I am Jezebelle. Are you new to our town?” Her voice was low, cool, and smooth and she spoke with a strange accent. Jeremiah turned, startled to hear a voice suddenly behind him.
“Oh … uh, yes, we are,” he said. “I suppose that’s pretty obvious, huh?”
“Yes,” she said as she smiled. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, you can, actually. We need to find …” Jeremiah continued to list the supplies they needed and asked the woman where they could be found in the village.
 “You will need to hurry. The shops will be closing soon.” Pointing to the opposite side of the square, beyond the fountain, she said: “In that direction, you can find fresh bread, fruits, and vegetables. Further down, there is a shop where you can buy cured ham and other meats. For ink and lamp oil you will need to go …” 
Chalice noticed that the lady’s hands and fingers were stained with a yellow powder. Her mind wandered from the conversation as she stepped into the doorway of the woman’s shop and looked around. It was a spice shop. She is a spice lady, Chalice thought. She had never seen one before, only heard about them in the stories that Grandma Naelli used to read to her when she was little. A blend of aromas met her nose and she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She was mesmerized. All around the shop were fresh herbs of every kind, shape, and form. They were everywhere, hanging from the ceiling, along the walls and in buckets that lined the middle of the dirt floor. On shelves behind the counter were jars of many-colored spices ranging from cumin to paprika to coriander. A bottle of yellow turmeric lay open on its side, spilling out onto the counter. Suddenly, she felt a nudge on her shoulder and she turned from the shop. It was Jeremiah.
“I’m going to go hunt these things down. You want to stay here?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah, I’ll wait here,” she said snapping out of her daydream. “Hey, this is a spice shop. Do we need spices or herbs?”
“No, I have enough. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Okay,” she said and turned to enter the shop. She began perusing one of the buckets that held fresh basil and parsley. Basil was her favorite herb. It held such a clean, crisp smell. Grandma Naelli used it in almost everything that she cooked.
“Is there something in particular you like, my dear?” Jezebelle asked as she returned to the counter and straightened the bottle of spilled turmeric.
“Oh, no, I just like the smell. It reminds me of home,” she replied and walked over to the counter to look down at the small, yellow pile. “Where do you get these spices?”
“They come from the dry climate of Maliya,” Jezebelle responded as she scooped up the pile in her hands and smelled it. “I was just examining this bottle to make sure it is pure. Sometimes the Marchiri buy tainted spices without knowing and trade them off to people who are none the wiser.”
“Oh.” Chalice nodded. She knew of the Marchiri. They were the traveling merchants that came to Canton twice a year to trade goods. Papa had traded wine with them for various items they needed, which included spices that Grandma Naelli had used in her cooking. She wondered if they had ever been given tainted spices, so she asked: “How can you tell if it’s pure or not?” 
Jezebelle smiled at her warmly. “You learn by experience. You can gauge a spice’s pureness by your senses but you have to be trained in the art of spice-making by someone who already knows. I learned the art from my mother. She was a spice lady too. It is a secret art and for some of my people, a sacred art. Not all women can become proficient in the trade. You have to have the right touch, for it is your touch that relates to the spices and if your touch is just right, the spices will know and respond. And if you are lucky enough to have the touch of power, then power is what you will receive in return.” 
Chalice cocked her head, quirking an eyebrow. “Spices have power?” She was finding this a little hard to believe.
Jezebelle noted her query and smiled. “Yes,” she said softly. “You see, each spice is unique and has its own power and effect on the body. It comes from its own plant and has its own method of cultivation. There are several ways to tell if a spice is pure. For example, take turmeric.” She showed Chalice the powder in her hands. Chalice watched and listened carefully. She found Jezebelle’s voice to be very calm and soothing. “Locked within these fine granules is the power to heal the body, inside and out, but they must be handled properly. The bulbs of the plant must only be picked during the breath of dawn, before first light. They are dried and finely ground into the spice, just so, to extract the full potency of the plant. To test its purity, you hold turmeric in your hands and watch how quickly it dyes them yellow. Then you smell and taste it. It must be bitter enough and slightly peppery. You spread it on an area of your skin that is lacking in either health or youth, and it will rejuvenate that skin, giving it a warm, healthy glow. If the turmeric passes these small tests, then it is pure.”
“It sounds complicated.”
“It is and that is why only certain women from my culture can become skilled in the art.”
“Do you come from Maliya then? Is that where you learned it?”
“Yes, that is where I grew up, in a small village near Lake Savarani. We grew the plants there.”
“Must have been nice!”
“It was. So, where do you come from?” Jezebelle asked and Chalice paused for moment, studying her. She wasn’t sure if it was wise to give out this information. Jezebelle continued: “You said that the smell of the herbs reminded you of home.” 
Oh that’s right, I did say that, didn’t I? Chalice thought to herself. She usually didn’t trust people but for some reason she felt comfortable around this lady. So she said: “From Canton. My grandmother used to hang herbs from her wall too.”
“How wonderful!” Jezebelle said in mild surprise and blew the turmeric from her hands, brushing them together several times to remove the fine grains still clinging to her palms. “Tell me, does she have the same beautiful blue eyes that you do?”
“Umm … no, she doesn’t.” Chalice thought this was a rather strange question. 
Jezebelle seemed to sense her reservation and said: “I ask because I have a broach that will go perfectly your eyes. I don’t ever wear it and it is virtually worthless around here. Poor farmers don’t really care for jewelry.”
“Oh,” Chalice said, realizing that she had been overly skeptical of the woman. “Where is it?”
“I will get it.” Jezebelle responded as she glided to the door that led to the back room. After a few minutes, she returned with a sparkling blue gem inlaid in a golden pin. She handed it to Chalice who examined it in her palm. It was gorgeous. The gem was a sapphire, marbled with thin waves down the center that resembled mother of pearl. It reminded her of the sea.
“You don’t want this? Are you sure?” Chalice asked. It seemed odd that the woman would want to part with such a fine piece.
“Oh yes, I never wear it and it will look much better on you.” She smiled. “Really, take it. I don’t want it.”
“Alright.” Chalice pinned it to her dress. “Thank you!” she said gratefully.
“You are very welcome, my dear,” Jezebelle said as she smiled.
Just then, the sound of footsteps caught their attention and Chalice turned to see a young woman in a dark green riding dress with raven black hair and bright emerald eyes, standing in the doorway. Chalice’ jaw almost hit the floor. She knew exactly who this young woman was and a rush of shock mixed with relief and happiness flooded her emotions as she moved forward to greet her. It was Kirna.
“Chalice!”
“Kirna!”
Each squealed loudly and rushed forward in a tight hug that revealed how much they had missed each other.
“I’m so glad you are alright! What are you doing here?” Kirna asked ecstatically.
“I was just about to ask you the same question!” Chalice responded.
“Well, Tycho and I left the night of the raid. Before the King’s men got to our house, mother and father sent us off on horseback. We were studying together that night when they rushed us out. They thought we would be safer here with my cousin on his farm. We were on the road for a long time. How did you get here? We’ve been worried to death about you for the past six months!”
“Papa sent me to Branbury at the same time. I’m surprised I didn’t see you on the road.”
“Oh, well, we kind of got lost. We didn’t have a map. We had to ask directions every time we stopped for the night. But you made it to Branbury on your own??? That’s a dangerous journey, Chalice! How did you get here?” 
“I know it’s dangerous but Papa told me I had to go. I met Jeremiah in Branbury. You remember him, right?” Kirna nodded and Chalice continued: “Well, he and I have just spent the past two weeks traveling over the top of Mt. Vaassa.”
Kirna looked stunned. “How …”
“It’s a long story. I can’t wait to tell you and I want to know everything that has happened and what you saw when you left. Where’s Tycho? Is he with you?”
“No, he stopped at Windon’s farm, a friend of my cousin. He had some goods to deliver in the wagon. Windon had a tough harvest this year so my cousin is helping him. Tycho rode with me for most of the way, though, and I’m supposed to meet him in about fifteen minutes back on the road. I came to town to get some bread for dinner tonight. The reason I came in here is because I thought I had heard your voice from outside. At first, I thought maybe I was just hearing things but then you kept talking and so I came in to see. I’m so glad I did!”
“Hey! Eat dinner with us. We’re staying at the Woodrock Creek Inn in room two-twelve. Meet us there in an hour, okay?”
“Okay. I can’t wait to tell Tycho you’re here! And with Jeremiah! We’ll see you then,” Kirna said and hugged Chalice before she left.
This was so great! Her two best friends were here and she was finally going to hear about what happened to her hometown. She turned back to Jezebelle who had been arranging spice jars on the shelves and said cheerfully: “Thank you again for the beautiful broach! Have a good evening!”
“You, too.” Jezebelle smiled. “Have a wonderful evening.”
Chalice ran out to search for Jeremiah but she didn’t have to look far as he was striding back over the square holding a paper bag in one hand and his rucksack over his shoulder. It was bursting at the seams. She rushed forward elatedly to tell him what had just happened. He was both surprised and excited to hear the news.
“… and so we have to get back quickly because they are meeting us for dinner at the inn,” she finished. She shivered and pulled her cloak tightly to her body. She noticed it was growing late and darkness was slowly starting to creep in.
“Okay,” he said as they walked. “Did you have a good conversation with Jezebelle?”
“Yeah, I learned about where her spices come from and about how to tell if a spice is pure or tainted.” He looked down at her and smiled. She continued: “She also gave me this broach.” She motioned to her dress.
“Wow, that was nice!” he said as he examined it. “Yeah, she was helpful, wasn’t she? It would have taken me forever to find those shops if she hadn’t pointed me in the right direction.”
“So you got everything?”
“Yup, and then some,” he replied.
As soon as they returned, they went directly to their room to pack their supplies and wash for dinner. When they arrived, they found Bunejab still sitting at the desk, writing in his notebook next to a crackling fire, whose flames danced merrily in the fireplace. Chalice went into the washroom to brush her hair and rinse her mouth with soda water.
“Bunejab,” Jeremiah said. “I got you some food in town. Here.” He handed him the paper bag. “So you won’t go hungry tonight.” Bunejab smiled and chittered. “You’re welcome,” Jeremiah responded, patting him on the shoulder. “Chalice and I are meeting some friends for dinner downstairs. When we get back, we will need to talk to you about something. We’ll see you in a little bit.” The Chinuk nodded and they left the room.
Descending the staircase, Chalice saw the innkeeper near the door talking to a tall, thin man who was in a dark, hooded cloak. She thought it was strange that he kept his hood up. She could barely make out the grey beard and long nose of his face. Then the man parted from the innkeeper to sit at one of the tables by himself in a dark corner of the room. From the corner of her eye, she could see, or rather feel that he was watching her. His face was still shrouded in the shadow of his cloak.
At that moment, the innkeeper took note of them and said: “Well, hello again. I see you have found your young man.” 
“Oh yes, thank you, we were just in town doing a little shopping.” She smiled warmly at him. His expression of apprehension puzzled her. “What is it?” she asked.
“Hmmm, if you need anything, just ask me or my wife. We can have someone here go get it for you. There is no need to enter the village,” he replied.
“You mean, you supply your guests with provisions they need?” She thought this was a little strange.
“Oh, yes. Our guests don’t usually visit the village,” he said and gave a light cough. “They don’t like to.” 
“Why? Is it dangerous?”
“Sometimes. There are some strange folk in these parts. You know, pickpockets and brigands and the like. They live in the mountain and have been known to come this way.” Chalice wondered: How come we didn’t run into any on the road then? The expression of surprise must have shown on her face because he said: “Not to worry, my lady. We have protection here at the inn. Our strongmen keep an eye out for us.”
“Oh. Right. Well, we didn’t run into any when we were in town,” she said. And actually had a pleasant visit there, she thought to herself silently. She had a feeling that the purpose of the innkeeper’s offer was purely financial. “Also, we were easily able to find exactly what we needed in town, thanks to Jezebelle.”
“Jezebelle?” he asked.
“The spice lady,” she told him, surprised that he didn’t register the name. It seemed to Chalice that she was a woman who was not easily forgotten.
He scratched his chin and said: “Hmmm, she must be new.” Pausing for a moment, he looked at the door. “That’s odd,” he said.
“What’s odd?” she asked curiously.
“Well, no one really moves to Woodrock, just through it. For years it has been more of a crossroad than anything.”
“Oh … well … maybe she’s not new. She seemed to know the town really well.”
“Hmmm … maybe …” Just then, they both turned as the inn door opened slightly. A brown head popped in from the outside and surveyed the room. Once its dark eyes fell upon Chalice, Tycho jumped to hug her. He still looked the same as he had when he was young, with his dark skin and chubby cheeks, although he had grown out of most of his “baby” fat, as he called it.
“Jeremiah, hey man! How the heck have of you been?” he said as he reached out to shake his hand.
“I am doing well. Long time no see, Tyke! How are you?” Jeremiah responded, laughing. Kirna also walked up and hugged both of them.
“Friends of yours, my lady?” the innkeeper asked.
“Oh yes. Master Duncan, this is Kirna and this is Tycho,” she said and he shook their hands. “They will be having dinner with us tonight. Is that alright?”
“Of course! Of course! Right this way.” He showed them to a table in the middle of the room and they sat down. Continuing, he said: “Tonight’s choice is chicken cacciatore in a tomato and herb mushroom sauce on a bed of noodles or beef burgundy served with fresh vegetables and sourdough bread.”
“Wow! That sounds great!” Tycho said and to the innkeeper’s surprise added: “I’ll take both.”
“Still has the same appetite, huh?” Jeremiah asked the girls.
“Oh, yes!” they said in unison.
After they had ordered, they broke into excited conversation. Chalice and Jeremiah sat back as they listened to Kirna and Tycho who were eagerly relating their story. Chalice flitted a glance at the hooded man again in the corner of the room. He had lowered the cowl of his cloak but his facial features were still hidden by the shadowed corner. He had been brought a supper with a goblet of wine and was now dining by himself. That man is odd, she thought to herself. He appeared to be watching her but only in intervals. Apparently, he was surveying the room. Maybe it’s just my imagination. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, she told herself. The mention of the Pandretti Inn and Winery pulled her from her thoughts.
“Yeah, the last thing we saw from the trees was the men gathering all of the villagers. Many of them were trying to resist but it didn’t do any good,” Kirna said.
“What do you mean?” Chalice broke in. “Didn’t they put up a good fight?”
“They tried but from what my dad told us, and from what we saw sneaking out of the village, our people didn’t stand a chance. It was awful, especially for those who had families to protect. I have never seen fighters like that, Chalice. It was disturbing.”
“Did you see my grandparents?” Chalice asked eagerly.
“No,” Kirna replied. Chalice sighed sadly and Kirna continued reassuringly: “But that doesn’t mean that they didn’t make it out alive. We left right when the fighting had started so we didn’t see much actually.”
“But we did see many of our classmates,” Tycho broke in, “like us, fleeing the village on their parents’ orders, either by carriage or horseback, with their younger siblings. I think most of the young people of Canton escaped unharmed.”
“Yeah, it was very organized, as if they had it planned a long time in advance, which is strange,” Kirna said. “You remember the days leading up to it don’t you, Chalice? It was almost like they were expecting an attack like that.”
“Yeah, I do. It is weird!” Chalice knew what Kirna was talking about. She did remember. All of the older adults, including her grandparents, had been acting very strangely right before the attack. A noise caught her attention and she looked up at the serving maids who had arrived with their plates and a tray of four glasses of milk. “But why would they be expecting it? And why would the King target Canton and then Branbury?” Jeremiah looked at her and she knew what he was thinking. She was grateful that he chose to keep silent about it.
“Branbury? What happened to Branbury?” Kirna asked.
As they ate, Chalice continued to recount her experiences after leaving Canton, arriving at the village, and meeting up with Jeremiah that night. Kirna and Tycho listened intently to her as they ate. She decided to conveniently leave out the part about the book they found. She didn’t want to think about that just yet. She paused to eat her food and they were all silent for a moment. Just then, she noticed a large group of rough-looking men enter the room from the tavern and sit down at the table next to theirs. The serving maids approached them and they ordered. She also noticed, from the corner of her eye, that the strange man was still there, drinking his wine and monitoring the room from where he sat in the shaded corner. Two scruffy farmers from Couzon, who were passing through Woodrock, sat dining at the table on the other side of them. One was young and the other was older with grey hair and missing teeth. Honing in on the two men, Chalice caught bits of their conversation.
“Yeah, I tell ya, he dun shed he shaw da White Beauty runnin’ tru da trees lasht week. A ghosht in da night.”
“Aw, he’s ravin’. There aint no White Beauty. She’s a myth.”
“He shwears itchda trute.”
Just then, Tycho looked up at them. He had finished both his plates first and was patting his stomach. “Aah, that was great. Best meal …”
“You’ve ever had. Yes, we know,” they all said in unison and he smiled. Tycho always said the same thing after every meal.
“So, Chalice, what happened after that? Why did you two leave Branbury?” he asked and she was just about to answer him but stopped suddenly, and in a split second, tensed when she saw one of the rough-looking men at the table next to theirs pull a knife from the back of his belt. She noticed that he had been glaring in their direction and could sense that the knife was meant for them. Then it all happened at once. Moving faster than her conscious thoughts could follow, she dropped her silverware and jumped onto her chair. Running over the table, sending chicken, beef and milk everywhere, she leapt up and flew through the air in a right foot side-kick, knocking the man firmly into the wall. Unconscious, he fell to the floor. She whirled on the spot, and with a knife hand to the throat, collapsed another one who was towering over her. She knew all of the pressure points and all of the tender vulnerabilities of the human body. Moving through the forms that she had learned from her Shaunta, she watched her friends from the corner of her eye. Kirna was quick, jumping up and round-housing the nearest thug that had lunged for her. Tycho was slow, as always, but jumped into the fray as soon as it registered in his brain that they were being attacked. Jeremiah, who was never a fighter but tall and muscular all the same, utilized a chair that he smashed over the head of the one nearest to him. All the other guests in the dining room ran for their lives while the inn’s strongmen shouldered in to help. The fight seemed to be going well, until … 
A bright grey light exploded from a corner of the room and Chalice spun around to find the source. Before she could see anything, however, she felt a sharp pain on back of her head and her knees buckled. Next thing she knew, the floor was rushing up to meet her and then … darkness.




Chapter 10
Benjamin Graeystone

“Is she going to be alright?”
“She will be fine. I traced the injury. There is no permanent damage. It will heal.”
A sigh of relief and then: “Good.”
Two voices echoed down a white marble hallway, Jeremiah’s voice and the voice of another that Chalice did not recognize. How did they get here? Which room were they in? This was her place. She had been coming here ever since she was a child. No one knew of it except for her, at least, that is what she had thought.
“Come on, Chalice. Wake up.” There he was again. Where was … wait! I’m dreaming. I need to …
Chalice woke and Jeremiah’s handsome face materialized in front her. She was lying on a canapé in a strange room. Jeremiah was kneeling at her side. “Hey! How are you feeling?” He wiped his sleeve across his forehead, which was beaded with perspiration. “Man, you gave me a scare,” he said. He was shaking and worried.
“Let me see her,” the deep, unfamiliar voice said behind him and Jeremiah moved to the right to reveal the strange, cloaked man that she had seen in the dining room. He stood there in front of her, only he was no longer wearing his cloak. He was old, with lengthy grey hair, a white beard, and bright, grey-blue eyes. The lines of his tanned face were etched deeply into his skin. His age was in stark contrast with his clothes that were newly sewn of a fine material. Dark trousers and a fine shirt fashioned of brown silk hung on his thin body like a drape. Kirna and Tycho were seated behind him in plush green chairs next to a snapping fire. Tycho was nursing a blackened eye with an ice pack.
“You!” Chalice cried out and sat bolt upright, glaring at the man. She immediately wished she hadn’t as her head was throbbing in pain.
“Relax. I’m here to help you,” he said calmly and she wondered if that were true. She glanced around at the others. They seemed to be comfortable around him. “Don’t worry, everyone is alright. I took care of the situation down in the dining room. Although you were putting up a pretty good fight,” he added, smiling at her. 
“You should have seen it, Chalice!” Kirna broke in excitedly at the same time as Tycho. They were both speaking at once about what had happened after she had been knocked out. She strained to listen. She couldn’t register everything they said, especially in her condition. She gathered, from the words she did hear, that the attackers were seized by an invisible force and pinned up against the wall, unable to move and frightened out of their wits. “He is Terravailian!” Kirna exclaimed, motioning toward the old man. Chalice was not impressed. She wanted to know who he was and why he was staring at her the whole time during dinner. She scowled.
“Sit back and rest. You have just sustained a severe blow to the head. I’m sorry I distracted you. I’m afraid it was my fault you were knocked out. In any case, your attackers are gone and they won’t come back. I made sure of that,” he said.
Chalice stayed exactly as she was, sitting upright, trying to not fall back. She was being stubborn and would not show any weakness. “Who were they?” she asked. Jeremiah, who sensed that she was unstable, sat down next to her, holding her in place.
“Brigands. They were after your money, well, at least that is what they said, but I can’t be sure if they weren’t working for Dar’Maalda. Therefore, we can’t stay in Woodrock for very long. In any case, news of what happened tonight will spread quickly so we will have to leave tomorrow morning.”
“Wait a minute! WE? You mean you want to come with us? Why? Who are you?” she demanded. She was unsure of this man. She didn’t trust strangers. Papa had taught her better. “Why would a Terravailian be so interested in a group of Naeon?” she asked suspiciously, rubbing her temples.
“Good question. It is good that you are suspicious. I’m sure you get that from Sebastian.” She looked up at him in disbelief. How did he know of her grandfather? The old man sighed. “You probably want some answers, I would imagine.”
“Yes, that would be nice!” she said wryly.
He smiled. “You are just like your father. You look very much like him.”
“You know my father???” she asked anxiously and tried to stand up but immediately fell back down on the cushions, swaying. Jeremiah caught her in mid-air. “My head is pounding!” she said, rubbing her temples again.
“Jeremiah, is Bunejab with you?” the old man asked.
“You know him???” It was Jeremiah’s turn to be surprised.
“Who is Bunejab?” Tycho whispered to Kirna who shrugged her shoulders.
“Yes. Please go tell him I need him … and tell him to bring his medicine bag with him,” the man said and Jeremiah rushed out of the room immediately. He then turned to Chalice and said softly: “I could heal you but I get the impression that you would not let me if I tried. Bunejab can give you something that will work just as well … probably better.”
Still confused, Tycho asked again: “Umm, who is Bunejab?”
“He is a Chinuk and an old friend,” the man responded.
Kirna’s eyebrows shot up. “A Chinuk?? In the lowlands? How odd!”
“He helped us travel over the mountain. We couldn’t have done it without him,” Chalice responded, still massaging her head. “Jeremiah and I had to sneak him into the room so we wouldn’t draw attention.” 
The old man smiled. “Yes, I saw that. That was very clever.”
She looked up at him. “I thought no one saw us.”
“I had just arrived and I saw you from the other side of the stream. That is how I knew it was you. I knew he would be with you,” he answered.
“But the Chinuka never come down this far. I’ve never heard of one who associated with people,” Kirna said.
“Well, he is sort of odd for a Chinuk but he does have their talents in the medicinal arts. He is very skilled in many ways and has bailed me out of a few tight spots in the past.” 
Just then, Jeremiah and Bunejab burst into the room and before Chalice knew it, the little Chinuk was handing her a warm drink with a powder he had mixed into it. She took it thankfully. She trusted him. Everything he had done for her helped her in some way. She had no reason to believe this time would be any different. And it wasn’t. The potion took effect immediately, relieving the pain and vertigo. It was amazing. She noticed that Jeremiah had brought his bags in with him. He set them on the floor next to the canapé as he reclaimed his seat.
“Thank you, my old friend,” he said. The little Chinuk smiled and chittered at the old man. “Yes, you did. Thank you for seeing that she arrived here safely,” he replied and Bunejab nodded.
“Seeing that I arrived here safely? You mean … that’s what he has been doing all this time? Delivering me here? Why didn’t he tell us?” Bunejab was digging into his rucksack again, pulling out some type of green, leafy material, and handing it to Tycho. Apparently he wanted Tycho to use it for his eye. Tycho, who was struck dumb by the fact he was seeing a Chinuk for the first time in his life, fumbled as he took the material and wrapped it around the ice.
“He was asked not to, just to see that you traveled unharmed over the mountain.”
“What’s going on? Who are you and who is my father?” she demanded.
The old man was removing a pipe from his pocket that he lit by borrowing a bit of the fire from the hearth. Then he took a seat on a folding chair near the canapé and crossed his legs. Behind him, Bunejab had climbed up onto the bed, taking a seat in the background to watch and listen. Jeremiah studied the old man and frowned in thought.
“Are you Ben Graeystone?” he asked and the man nodded. “Now I remember! I thought I recognized you. Nice to meet you again.” And with that, they gave each other a slight bow of the head. Chalice looked a question at Jeremiah and he said: “He is the one who visited my parents when I was young, the reason I came to stay with you and your grandparents for three years.” 
Jeremiah knew him. She immediately felt comforted by this and relaxed. Jeremiah looked over at the old man again. “They never told me where they went or what the mission was all about. What were you doing with them all that time?”
“We were looking for Chalice’ father. I found a lead and came to ask your parents for help. I needed their skills and knowledge. I also needed their expertise in the Chinukan language. I wasn’t familiar with it at the time. We searched in vain because we didn’t find him but we did discover some crucial information. Now that Chalice is here, I am hoping she will be able to help me find him. I have been looking for him, and waiting for her, for nineteen years.”
Chalice turned to Jeremiah who met her inquiring stare. She then turned an eye to the old man and asked politely: “Who is my father, Master Graeystone?” Given her treatment of him earlier, she thought a little respect was due.
“Please, call me Ben.”
“Alright, Ben. Who is my father?”
Ben hesitated for moment and then said slowly: “Your father is King Duquaine, the Rightful King of the Realm and a scion of the Ielierian.” Chalice’ heart sank. She hung her head again and rubbed her temples. Her head was no longer hurting but she knew what being a daughter of the King meant and she didn’t want to believe it.
Jeremiah laughed. “I told you, Chalice! I told you!”
“Why do you think I can help you find him?” she asked curiously.
“Because of your prophecy.”
“My prophecy? What are you talking about?” She knew what he was talking about but she still asked the question. Not the book! Please not the book! she thought silently to herself.
“There is a book with the sign, or you could say the sigil of your amulet,” he said and Chalice pulled out the pendant from under the neck of her riding dress to examine it. “It is also the mark on your shoulder.” How did he know that??? Releasing her pendant, she listened in amazement. She was starting to wonder if this stranger knew more about her than she did. “It’s the sign of your birthright,” he added.
“He is talking about the Delphaline, Chalice,” Jeremiah broke in. “You are so determined to deny it!” Shaking his head, he pulled the book out of his saddlebag and placed it in her lap. Silently, she placed her hand on the front cover. Kirna and Tycho just sat there gaping. They couldn’t believe it. 
Jeremiah couldn’t understand why she looked so sad. A young woman discovering that she is princess shouldn’t make her sad, should it? He turned to Ben. “I’ve always thought that it was just a book of stories. What is it then?”
Ben puffed a ring of smoke and said: “Common knowledge, for those who know about it, is that it is just that, a book of stories, but, in reality, it is much more. It is a book of prophecy written by the first and only Terravailian seer, who lived a long time ago, during the Ice Age. Every entry in that book is a prophecy. There are many of them that have been fulfilled and some we are not sure about. When a prophecy is about to take place, a child is born that will fulfill it. Chalice is one of those children. Her story is the last and marks the end of the era of prophecy. No one is certain if there will be any more or if there will even be a need for it.” 
Chalice was suddenly reminded of what Bunejab told his Âwásötah. “Ben, what is a child of the Elîn’Mörá?” 
“How did you hear about that?”
“We heard it when we were taken before the Chinukan King and Queen,” Jeremiah answered. “That is what Bunejab told them, that Chalice was a child of the Elîn’Mörá. It is why they let us pass over the mountain. He also said something about the Rôi’Státchèn and a return to the First Time. What does that mean?”
“Hmmm, I would like to hear more about that visit later but for the moment, let’s stick to the conversation at hand. Chalice is a child of prophecy. This is what the child of the Elîn’Mörá is. The Chinuka have their own prophecy about a child who will bring about an end to the Rôi’Státchèn and a return to the First Time. The Rôi’Státchèn, or the Way of Peace, is the period of time that the Chinuka have been isolated from the world. The First Time is the era when they aided humans during the Haeliad. They taught them how to live and showed them how to survive in the world outside. In return for their help, the Terravail created the underground dwellings that you must have seen in Chinukan villages. These dwellings allowed the Chinuka to live high up in the mountains. This was helpful whenever there was a war and they needed to escape to a safe place. Unfortunately, it was war, involving the Terravail, that led to the Rôi’Státchèn. A return to the First Time means that the Chinuka will open their doors to the world of humans once again. Not all of them are looking forward to it, however.”
“How do you know so much about them and their villages?” Jeremiah asked.
Ben smiled knowingly. “I have a way of getting there. I am the only one of the Terravail who does.” Jeremiah’s eyebrows shot up in interest. Then Ben said: “I will show you sometime.”
“I am looking forward to that!” he said. “Bunejab also mentioned a return of the Naezzi. What is that?”
“Ah, the Naezzi,” he said sadly and examined his pipe for a moment. “It is a sore subject and a sad one. Let’s not talk about it right now. No one knows what happened to them or even if they are still alive.”
Finally, breaking her silence, Kirna asked: “What is a child of prophecy? What does that mean exactly?”
“A child of prophecy is a child that is marked from birth.”
“You mean, a child with a birthmark?” Tycho asked and Ben nodded. Then Tycho suddenly shot up from his chair, removing the Bunejab-treated ice pack from his eye. Not surprisingly, his eye looked much better. “Really?? I’ve got a birthmark. On my arm. See!” he said eagerly and showed Ben the strange mark on his forearm that looked like a chicken with a huge head. “Am I a child of prophecy?” he asked and Chalice snorted. Really, Tycho could make you laugh in any situation.
Ben smiled and said: “No, unfortunately not, Tycho. They are marked with not just any birthmark but with one that is distinct and identical to one of the entries in the Delphaline.”
Chalice leaned over and showed Tycho the inscription at the end of her prophecy, next to her name. 
“Yep, that’s your birthmark alright,” he said and shook his head in awe. “Wow! So your dad is the Rightful King!” He sat back down and put the ice back over his eye again.
“Well, wait a minute!” Kirna broke in. “None of this makes any sense. How is Chalice going to help you find her father? What does the prophecy say?”
Ben turned to Chalice. “You want to read it to them?” Nodding, she acquiesced, reading it slowly and clearly. When she was finished, he said: “Nobody really understood the passage until Duquaine went missing and Chalice was born. Parts of it are still difficult to decipher because it is so cryptic. It leaves many questions. However, I am hoping the answers will come with time.”
There was a brief pause. Chalice drew breath and then finally spoke. “How is it possible that my father is King Duquaine? From what Jeremiah told me, the Queen died and her children were taken. So how is that possible?”
“That is a good question. Not many of the Naeon know that Duquaine remarried shortly after the death of Queen Miria. The reason that not many of them know that is because he married a Naeowoman who was working for the royal family in the palace. She was Queen Miria’s best friend and a second mother to her children.” 
Chalice inhaled deeply, raising her eyes to the ceiling, then nodded in understanding. She knew why something like that would be kept silent. Jeremiah read her body language and then frowned at Ben. 
“I don’t follow,” he said.
“You understand, don’t you Chalice?” Ben asked her.
Nodding, she said: “It’s taboo, Jeremiah. The Terravail and the Naeon do not intermarry. They’re not allowed to.” 
Jeremiah’s face froze. He looked as if someone had just shot an arrow through his chest. “Oh, I didn’t know that,” he said quietly. 
He knows, she thought. Now he understands.
“Yes, well,” Ben continued. “The people weren’t happy when he married Alaenia and kept silent about it but they still loved him. He was … he is, the best King the Realm has ever had. The only fault or weakness he had was his trust in people, in particular; his trust in someone he considered to be his best friend.”
“Dar’Maalda,” Chalice growled. Anger filled her as she logically pieced it together.
“Exactly. Ever since the Haeliad, the people of the Maaldanese islands have been at odds with the people of the Realm. They have always considered themselves separate and distinct, not taking part in any treaties or trade agreements. It evolved this way due largely to the geography of Naeo’Gaea and the separation of the islands off the west coast from the Realm. Duquaine befriended Dar Maalda, the leader of the Maaldanese, in hope of healing that break between the two societies. As you know, it didn’t work. It has been the only thing he ever failed at doing. The only bad decision he has ever made. Unfortunately, it was a critical mistake. Dar’Maalda betrayed him and seized power. Ever since the night of the coup, Duquaine has been missing.”
“And Alaenia? My mother, I assume.”
Ben nodded. “Yes. She was out of the palace with her guard that night visiting the town folk. She did that frequently. She liked to get out of the palace to be among the people. A palace servant came running to inform her of what had happened. She had no choice but to flee the city. So she traveled to Canton, her home village, where she had grown up. She lived with a good friend of hers, Marie Bierna. 
Chalice turned to Jeremiah. “Do you remember her, Jeremiah? We used to go to her cafe.” 
Jeremiah nodded in recognition. He was holding his head down, staring at the ground. He was thinking and his expression was sullen.
“Yes, she did have a cafe there,” Ben said, nodding. “Anyway, Alaenia kept to herself, hidden, rarely going outside, in order to protect your grandparents and her friends in the village. Even though she wanted to return to Ielieria to find the children, she knew that Dar’Maalda would send men looking for her. At that time, she didn’t know that she was with child … you. When she realized she was going to have a baby, she stayed with Marie until you were born. Dar’Maalda eventually did order a search, but his men didn’t find her in the village and so they moved on. After you were born, she had Marie contact me. When I arrived in Canton, she showed me your birthmark.”
“Is that how you know all of this? My mother told you?” She was still wondering about Ben. Who was he really? Why would my mother contact him?
“Yes, she told me everything she knew. I then left Canton to visit Nathaniel, who confirmed that the last child of the Delphaline had been born.” 
“Why didn’t my mother stay with me in Canton?” She had always wondered why she was left with her grandparents, not that she ever regretted living with them, she loved her grandparents, but she had always been afraid that her parents hadn’t wanted her. For that reason, ironically, she also wanted to avoid the question. What if they didn’t want me? she thought. She knew he would eventually get to the subject and it was better that she brought it up first. Jeremiah looked up at Ben, listening intently.
“Well, I encouraged your mother to remain hidden with her baby due to the war raging at the time. Everyone did. The Realm was a turbulent and violent place during this period. Many died. I assured her that we had people looking for the King and the children but she insisted on leaving you with your grandparents and returning to Ielieria. With Sebastian and Naelli, she knew you would be safe from Dar’Maalda’s reach, especially since you were a secret. I think she believed that staying with you would put you in danger. She struggled with the decision. It is not easy for a mother to leave her child behind. After she left, she was never seen again.” 
Jeremiah turned to look at Chalice with a soft expression on his face and her throat tightened. She stared down at the floor. A torrent of mixed emotions stormed inside her. All her life she wanted to know about her parents and who she was, and now, she didn’t want to know. She wanted to return to the past, to her life in Canton when the four of them were kids, sitting on the banks of the Créonar, eating sandwiches in their swimsuits. Life was so simple back then. All the same, she was happy that she hadn’t been unwanted. It was quite the opposite. Her mother had left her there to protect her. It seemed logical that since she had never known her mother, it shouldn’t matter to her. But it did. Logic knew nothing of human emotion. It could not tell you anything about your heart. She wished she could have known her mother. There was a lump in her throat and tears wanted to push through her cool outward composure, especially when Jeremiah put his arm around her to embrace her. She fought the tears off furiously, with a rage against Dar’Maalda that was starting to build inside her. She would not let them come. Finally, in a gruff voice, she managed to choke out the question that she’d been waiting to ask. 
“What kind of person was she?”
“She was the kindest, most selfless person I have ever known. She was always pleasant to be around and could find the best in every person she met, even in Dar’Maalda, and that’s hard to do,” he said over his pipe with a raised eyebrow. He reminded her a little of Papa. Then he said: “Nobody disliked Alaenia. Everybody loved her.” He sensed that she was troubled. “Do not feel badly, Chalice. She is probably still alive. It is more than likely, I would say. It is law for the Terravail, when they come of age, to swear an oath to the Ielierian. Part of that oath requires them to protect the royal family. This is how we know that your family has to be alive. If Dar’Maalda had killed any one them directly, he would be dead.”
She raised her head and looked at Ben. A glimmer of hope beamed through the darkness. “How do you know that?” she asked, eagerly.
“It has to do with Terravailian power. It’s long and complicated. I will teach you more about it later.” 
She nodded. The torrent was calming to a faint trickle. She relaxed and said: “I have siblings then?”
“Yes, you have two living half sisters. The oldest is Miaela. The other is Shanira. They are a few years older than you. They were just children when you were born. You also have a half brother, or should I say, you would have had a half brother but he died before you were born. His name was Braywin. He was the oldest of the three. He had just come of age and was studying something very dangerous during his training. I don’t know what it was, and Alaenia didn’t know either, but it is what killed him. It was his death that set off the whole series of events that lead to where we are now.”
Jeremiah removed his arm from her shoulders and sat forward on the canapé, elbows on his knees, staring at Ben. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Miria was devastated by her son’s death. She wanted to know what killed him. To her detriment, she found out. Alaenia had tried to stop her but Miria was mad with grief. She had to know,” he said as he shook his head, looking down at his pipe and sighing deeply. “Duquaine was always a strong man but the death of his only son and then of his wife just shortly after that was more than he could take. He renounced his daieoden, shelving it in a secret place. He didn’t want to have anything to do with it after that, or his ability. Then he married Alaenia, a Naeon.”
“What is a daieoden?” Chalice asked curiously. It was something she had never heard of before.
“A Terravailian’s daieoden is a crystal that he or she wears at all times. The daieoden are the stones through which the Terravail get their abilities. Without them, they cannot use their power.”
Jeremiah nodded thoughtfully. “So, renouncing it would have left him extremely vulnerable. Is that how Dar’Maalda was able to seize control?”
“Precisely.”
Jeremiah continued: “And then he married Chalice’ mother. Is that the reason why those who had been loyal to the Ielierian sided with Dar’Maalda during the battle with Davinthore, because they didn’t like the marriage between Duquaine and Alaenia?”
“Yes … and no. By renouncing his power and marrying Alaenia, Duquaine broke an unwritten rule. The people didn’t like it but they were still loyal to him. They revered him. But when he disappeared and Dar’Maalda challenged the King’s younger brother in battle, Davinthore’s blunders caused many to lose faith in the Ielierian. I’m sure Dar’Maalda played into it as well, using propaganda against the royal family. The Strelzi, the King’s bowmen, were the only ones who kept the faith. They were close to the ‘Duque’, as they called him, and never broke their fealty.”
“Ben, what do you think of Davinthore?” Jeremiah asked curiously, as this was a subject with which he was familiar.
Sadness shadowed Ben’s face. “He was always weaker than Duquaine, both physically and mentally. But knowing him personally, I am puzzled, and for many reasons, saddened, at the outcome of the battle. His choice to go on living with the humiliation of defeat is even more puzzling. There is something not quite right about it. His only flaw was that he wasn’t very strong-minded but his heart and his loyalty to the Realm were always in the right place. The mistakes he made during the battle confused everyone. Like Theodore, he was an excellent battle leader and together, they could have easily defeated Dar’Draaqua and his men, regardless of their strength. It’s been years and I haven’t been able to contact him in Avielia.” 
A thought struck Chalice. Theodore? She remembered what Jeremiah had told her. Theodore Darren. That’s right, he was the battle leader. And yet Ben was talking about Theodore Darren as if he knew him. Then she asked: “How do you know my family so well?”
He smiled at her warmly. “I will tell you about my history someday but for now, I have much more important information to teach you.”
“Alright.” She nodded. Tilting her head, she asked another question. “Who is Dar’Draaqua?”
It was Jeremiah, this time, who answered. “Vlaadren Dar’Draaqua, the leader of the Draaquans. They call him Vlaad. We saw him, Chalice. Do you remember? The morning we left Branbury. You wanted to fight him, remember?” he said smiling and shaking his head.
“Oh yeah,” she said, nodding slowly.
Ben’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s a good thing that you didn’t! Vlaad comes from the island of Draaqua and he is Dar’Maalda’s right hand man. Nothing gets done without Vlaad knowing about it. There are five Maaldanese islands: Maalda, the big island, Draaqua and Bruuqua, the second largest, and Baston and Chierian, which are the smaller islands. The Draaquans follow Vlaad, which is why he is so important to Dar’Maalda. They are not just fighters like the Cantonese. They are a cult of killers, trained practically from birth.” Kirna and Tycho, who had been silent this whole time, looked at each other with wide eyes. They knew exactly who the Draaquans were.
Then Kirna burst out with: “And you wanted to fight them, Chalice?!”
Chalice shrugged. “I didn’t know who they were.”
Ben continued: “Before Dar’Maalda seized power, no one in the Realm did either. It wasn’t until shortly after that, that they showed themselves. Around that same time, Canton became a fighting village. They were smart enough to know that the Realm was going to change drastically and so they began to train themselves and their young. Today, they are tough and skilled fighters but they are no match for the Draaquans, who possess Terravailian power. In the past, the Draaquans have killed many people. During the battle, they played a major role in the betrayal of the Ielierian.”
Chalice could feel the anger brewing again. She shook her head in exasperation. “My family was betrayed by their own people!”
“Believe me, those who defected back then woefully regret it now because they had no idea what kind of person Dar’Maalda is. He is ruthless and cruel. The Realm now is a different world than it was under Duquaine. Once, a person could travel unmolested from one end to the other. That is not so anymore.” He examined his pipe again and regret shadowed his face.
“You know, I’m still wondering why the Terravail and the Naeon are not allowed to marry,” Jeremiah said. He was still dwelling on the subject.
Ben looked up from his pipe. “Well, in the past, officially they could, but traditionally they never have. Originally, I believe it was because the Terravail and the Naeon were not interested in it. Later on, it developed into an unspoken, unwritten law that came to be called the Covenant and marriage between the races was socially frowned upon. For that reason, it is very rare to find a mixed couple. It happens maybe once in several hundred years but even still, those unions rarely produce children.”
Jeremiah frowned. “Why not?”
“Because of the nature of the two people. They are both human but they are vastly different from each other and it has everything to do with Terravailian ability. Because of it, there is a huge gap between the two worlds, not just geographically but also culturally. They live very different lives. If you have ever been to a city on the west coast, you will see how different it is from the Naeonic villages of the east.”
All of a sudden, a memory came back to Chalice. An image of white towers with golden spires gleaming in the sunlight formed in her mind. Papa had taken her to Ielieria once, when she was five. From the fragments of the memory, the city was very different, in every way possible. 
“Also, because of their power, the Terravail have sustained a higher socioeconomic position in the Realm than the other races. I’m not saying that it’s right, because I know there is prejudice on both sides, just that it naturally evolved this way. If a Terravailian chooses to marry a Naeon, he or she has to renounce their position, along with their ability, and move to the east. The problem is, because of their nature, the Terravailian will always be pulled back. For reasons I will teach you later, they cannot live without their daieoden.”
“Can’t the couple live in the west then? Alaenia did,” Jeremiah asked.
Ben shook his head. “For a Naeon, it is very difficult, almost impossible, to live in the west. Alaenia was a rare case because of Miria. Miria was born in Canton, to a Naeonic family, the Biernas.”
“She was Marie’s sister?” Chalice asked in surprise.
He nodded. “Yes, her twin sister, in fact. Alaenia and Miria were childhood friends. Miria first started showing Terravailian signs when she was young. That can happen. It is also another thing that is very rare, especially if one has a twin that does not. She met Duquaine when she went to start her training. They fell in love and married. Back then, he was the Duque of Quaine, or more properly, of Iel Quaine. That is where he gets his name. The Strelzi still call him the ‘Duque’. They were with him then and are still loyal to him today.”
That stirred a memory in Chalice. “The Duque of the Gate? There it is again, Jeremiah! The gate,” she said. That word kept cropping up. She wanted to know what it was.
Ben quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “Sebastian taught you Angaulic then?” 
“Yeah. Show him your father’s note, Jeremiah.” Jeremiah removed the notebook from his bag and read it slowly to them. Then he handed it to Ben.
Reading the note again silently in his hand, he said: “So they escaped. Good.”
“He tells me I’m supposed to send the message to someone but I don’t know who.”
“Don’t worry, you have just done it.”
“Oh, okay.” Jeremiah frowned at the old man. Does he know something about my family as well? He wondered.
Chalice couldn’t wait any longer, so she asked: “Ben, what is the ‘gate’?”
“The gate is the entrance to Portalis, the portal city to the underground and the Resistance.” There was a loud collective gasp throughout the room. Chalice thought that the word Portalis sounded familiar. Where had she heard that before? Sensing their astonishment, Ben’s eyebrows shot up over his pipe. “You didn’t think that we were just going to sit back and let Dar’Maalda take over did you? There is a Resistance and he knows about it.”
“This keeps getting better and better!” Tycho exclaimed excitedly, sitting up in his seat. He had taken the ice off his eye permanently and you could barely tell now that anything had been wrong with it.
“So the underground cities still exist then!” Chalice said. I knew it! she thought. She had known the underground cities were still there. Papa could never fool her very well. She knew when there was something that he was hiding. She had always been good at ferreting out information by reading a person’s body language. “I knew Papa wasn’t telling me the truth. He said that he didn’t know when I asked him. Where is this gate?”
Ben nodded. “Oh yes, they still exist. They are alive and well, in fact. There is a lot Sebastian didn’t tell you, for a good reason. It is the same reason why I can’t tell you where the gate is located. If someone were listening in on our conversation, it could be disastrous. I will be able to show you where it is someday but I can only tell you what you need to know for now. There is information that is so secret we dare not speak of it above ground. Up here, walls can have ears. I am risking enough as it is.”
“Well, wait a minute!” Tycho broke in, apparently ignoring what Ben had just said. “The gate would be located in Quaine. I’m assuming that’s a city somewhere?”
Chalice shook her head. “No Tyke, it’s not on my map.”
Ben looked at Chalice keenly. “Good observation, Chalice. No, you won’t find it on any map that is in print today. The name of the village was changed a long time ago. Long enough that the people’s memory of it has faded and the location has fallen into obscurity. All this time, it has been kept that way. The Duque of Quaine became a title. Your father held that title when he came of age and like all of his predecessors before him, he did not live there. He oversaw the group of people that protect it. Now, even the title has changed and Duquaine kept the name.”
Chalice was concentrating on what he said. Something wasn’t adding up. “Wait a sec! If it has been kept hidden all this time, then there is another reason besides the Resistance for the secrecy.”
Sharpening his stare, he studied her with an eye. “Another very good observation! You are a smart young woman, Chalice, but let’s not talk about it until we get to Portalis, alright?” he said and she nodded. She had assumed that that was where he intended to take them.
Kirna and Tycho exploded with enthusiasm. “We’re going there???”
“Yes, that is the plan. We need to get Jeremiah back to his parents and Chalice needs to begin her training. I think now it is necessary for you two to come along as well, for your protection, and because I have taught you too much already to let you return to stay at your cousin’s house. I was hoping to avoid involving you, which is why I didn’t introduce myself right away in the dining room, but when the men attacked, I didn’t have a choice.”
“I’m glad you did involve us,” Kirna said, looking over at her best friend.
“Wait a minute!” Jeremiah protested. “Chalice and I are going to Chainbridge. Our families were taken there and I’m not going to let my brothers or my friends remain captive.” They too had set out with a plan and he wasn’t willing to change it just because Ben had fallen in with them. They recounted the events of the night Chalice had arrived at the farm and what they had set out to do.
After they were done, Tycho was gaping at them in disbelief. “Umm, let me get this straight,” he said. “You want to travel all the way to Culmanoq just to storm a huge fortress, teeming with trained killers who want us all dead, and walk out the front door with hundreds of prisoners? Gee ... what could be more fun?” he asked sarcastically. Jeremiah’s face twisted into a wry smile.
Ben shook his head doubtfully. “You’ll never get past the gate ...” he said, frowning down at his pipe in thought, “... but there might be a way. We can talk about it later. Not here. There is a village a day’s ride northeast of here called Cedarwood. It is on the way to Chainbridge. It is a safer place than Woodrock, with less poverty and less crime. Granted, no place above ground is safe but it will still serve us better. I have friends there with whom we can stay.”
Chalice thought about the village and how impoverished it was, so she asked: “Ben, why is this village so poor? It is the exact opposite of Canton and Branbury, as well as almost all of the villages I passed along the road to the Trui’Quirre.”
“Because of the taxes,” he replied. “You traveled directly east from Canton didn’t you?” She nodded and he continued: “Dar’Maalda has a tendency to tax the Naeon heavily. He is very hard on them. However, the villages in that area of the Realm where you traveled, along with Branbury, produce goods that are valuable to him such as tobacco and wine, fine silks and furniture, along with many other items that he uses. As long as they make an annual contribution to him, he leaves them alone. Villages on the other side of the Trui’Quirre, to their relief, are protected by the mountains and rarely see a tax collector. It is too far away from the west, for one thing, and too many have died trying to cross the middle passes.”
Chalice felt a jolt of pride at that. She had done it after all. Although, it still hadn’t been easy. Ben puffed a ring of smoke and continued: “The coastal villages do, however, receive a less-than-friendly visit every so often from a royal trading vessel, a name of convenience. As you can imagine, they do not visit to do any of the trading, just the taking. This is why these villages keep a stash of stored goods at all times.”
“Yup. ‘A few bushels a day, keeps the tax collector away.’ That’s a saying in Branbury,” Jeremiah added.
“Yes.” Ben nodded in recognition. “Anyhow, villages like Woodrock have never been of any particular use to him. Before he came to power, Woodrock was a thriving community of trappers that received frequent visits from the Marchiri who were interested in the fur trade of the east. Over the years, because of taxes, business declined and people began to leave. The ones who have stayed are mostly the poor farmers who have nothing else other than their hands and their land, at least, for now. Dar’Maalda has given them no mercy, leaving them in abject poverty.” Chalice’ face twisted with a scowl. He noticed her expression. “Yes, you are starting to see what kind of a man he is.”
The courage she had felt in Bunejab’s village came back to her. It steadied her resolve. With eyes narrowed, she said fiercely: “I can’t wait to free the people at Chainbridge. It will be a slap in his face!”
“We’re not there yet,” Ben said and smiled at her. He was impressed with her spirit. “We will be soon, even though I will have to change my original plan. The best plans have to change if it becomes necessary.”
Jeremiah noticed Bunejab on the bed. It struck him that he had been silent through the whole discussion, not even asking one question. “You knew about all of this, didn’t you, Bunejab?” he asked wryly. Bunejab nodded at Jeremiah with a wide smile. Jeremiah turned to Ben. “How did he know to bring us here? And how did you even know Canton and Branbury were attacked?”
“Did my grandfather send a pigeon to you?” Chalice asked. A memory came into focus of Papa running to the birdcage right before she left Canton. “It was the last thing I saw him do.”
“Yes. I was on my way to Canton. I was coming to collect you, to begin your training. Once I received the message from Sebastian, I realized that I had to change my course and head toward the Auramont Vale.”
“What did his message say exactly?”
“It said that Dar’Maalda had found out about the prophecy and sent his men to raid the village, looking for you. The village was burning, so Sebastian sent you to Nathaniel’s farm, where he thought you would be safe, I’m sure. Then Nathaniel would have shown you the book to teach you about your family. In the note, he mentions that he also sent the same message to Nathaniel. Here. You can read it yourself.” 
He handed her the letter. She recognized the cursive writing immediately. An emotion stirred inside and she felt the lump in her throat again. Now she understood what Jeremiah must have felt that night he found the letter from his father. Papa’s note read:

He knows. They are here. Do not come. The village is burning. I’m sending the child to Nathaniel in Branbury. He still has the book. Sending him this message as well.

“Can I keep this?” she asked.
“Certainly.” he said, understanding her wish. At the moment, it was the only thing she had of her family. He continued: “I sent a letter to Bunejab, asking him to make sure that you arrived and to report back to me. After I received his return message explaining what had occurred in Branbury, I realized that the letter for Nathaniel must have been intercepted. So I sent Bunejab another pigeon telling him to see you safely here and to not reveal anything until I found you. I wanted to make sure that no word of this leaked out or fell upon ears that were not meant to hear.”
Chalice shook her head in frustration. “You know, Ben, what is ironic about all of this is that Dar’Maalda is not even looking for me.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that? Of course, he is.”
Jeremiah intervened. “No, she’s right. The morning we saw the Draaquans, Vlaad yelled to one of the men, ‘the Fierian wants him alive’. They also said they were looking for him when we saw them in the forest, remember Chalice?
She nodded. “Yeah, I do. Ben, are you sure that Dar’Maalda found out about the prophecy? Maybe he is looking for someone else.”
He paused for a moment. He was deliberating seriously, staring at the fire. Finally he said: “No, it’s almost certainly you. From the network of informants we have working in the white palace of Ielieria, we know that he learned about a child of Duquaine and Alaenia in Canton who can defeat him. The fact that he is looking for a young man is interesting. What this tells us is that he must not have read the prophecy. He must have heard about it some other way, probably through his spies.” 
Chalice looked a question at him and he explained: “He has spies that infiltrate almost every village in the east. He knows that members of the Resistance are hiding here. In any case, it seems he knows that there is a person who is a threat to him but he doesn’t know that it’s a young woman. And Sebastian’s note only says: ‘the child.’ I’m assuming the letter to Nathaniel said the same thing.” Ben smiled wryly again, examining his pipe in thought. Shaking his head, he said: “Naturally, Dar’Maalda would think that it would be a man. In his twisted worldview, only a man could be strong enough. To find out that he is being challenged by a young woman will be a great insult to him. We must keep this a secret as well. This can work to our advantage.”
Chalice liked this idea. The less Dar’Maalda knew about her, the better. She looked at Ben. She still wondered about something. “Ben, why have you been waiting for me for so long? I have been in Canton this whole time. You could have easily come for me a long time ago.”
“No, I could not have. You cannot be trained until you come of age. In the Terravailian world, that is when you turn eighteen. And your training will be different than the others. With you, we will really be testing our knowledge of Terravailian power. You are eighteen now, I presume.”
She nodded. “Yes, but unlike what you said about Queen Miria, I haven’t shown any signs of possessing special powers. I would know, wouldn’t I? And I certainly don’t have a daieoden. So, I must not be Terravailian, only Naeon, like my mother. ” She was still trying to find a way around this. She didn’t want to accept her place in the Terravailian world. By this time, Jeremiah had risen to stretch his legs, and had gone to the window. He stared out of it silently. She wondered what he was thinking.
Ben shook his head. “You were raised as a Naeon, Chalice, but you do not yet know what it means to be Terravailian. The fact is that you are both. That is what your prophecy means: ‘Born of the blood by one half.’ You are the only known mixed-blood that is alive today, probably the only one that has ever lived. Can you imagine what kind of reaction that might elicit among the people? So you can see why I’ve waited this long to come for you and why we have kept you a secret, not just because of who you are but also because of what you are. You are the Raie’Chaelia, the True Princess of Ielieria, and the only known Terravailian-Naeon to exist. It is a fact. At some point, you will have to accept it.”
She sighed and finally, she nodded.
“This is so cool! My best friend is a princess!” Kirna exclaimed.
“No. It’s not, Kirna. I don’t want to be a Terravailian Princess.”
“Why not?” Kirna frowned in surprise.
Chalice flitted a glance out of the corner of her eye at Jeremiah. He was still at the window. With her head down, she fingered the symbols etched onto the brown leather cover of the Delphaline and said quietly: “Because.”
Ben noticed her reluctance and said softly: “You can choose, Chalice. You can choose not to fulfill your prophecy. If you want, you can walk away from it. It is written in the Delphaline.” Jeremiah turned away from the window and listened to them sharply.
“Yeah, I know, the freedom to choose,” Chalice said and nodded. Kirna looked confused and Chalice showed her the small passage at the beginning of the book.
“You know,” Ben continued, “there have been those who have chosen another path and events of the world still progressed in the proper direction without them, or at least, we assume. We can never know what would have happened.” 
And that was it. She knew. Really, she had known since Branbury. She had to choose. It was a choice between the love of her life and her duty to the people. How heartbreaking life could be! It was almost a cruel joke. She stared at the floor in deep thought.
“It’s a hard decision to make, I know,” Ben said, mistaking her melancholy. “The passage doesn’t say that you will live through it, only that you will find and return your father. So, I will give you time to think about it. Maybe it is a good thing that we are going to Chainbridge. There, you will be able to see firsthand what you are facing.” He paused and then continued: “If you do choose your prophecy, then we can begin your training.” He stood up and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Think on it.” Then he turned to the others. “We have an early start tomorrow. So I think it is time to retire for the night. Kirna, Tycho, I want you two to meet us at dawn at the inn’s stable, saddled and ready to go.” They stood up and nodded. He continued: “And be sure to speak of this to no one! Do not tell your cousin why you are leaving or who you are leaving with. I say that for his protection. The less he knows, the better. Remember, there are spies everywhere. Take care riding back to the farm tonight.”
“Alright,” Kirna replied.
Tycho turned to Chalice. “Well, good night there, child of prophecy,” he quipped. Chalice rose from her seat to hug them goodbye.
Taking Chalice’ face in her hands, Kirna said strongly: “You brave woman!” Chalice smiled at her. Regardless of everything they had learned that night, it was comforting to have her best friends with her. They gave her strength. She hugged her best friend and then the two left.
“Bunejab will stay with me tonight. We’ll see you two in the morning,” Ben said.
“He is coming with us then?” Jeremiah asked.
“Yes. He has accompanied me on many journeys. We will need him on ours.” Then he turned to Chalice. “It in is an honor to finally meet you, Chalice. It has been a long time.”
“The honor is mine,” she said and smiled. “And thank you. I forgot to thank you for helping us downstairs in the dining room.”
“Don’t mention it,” he replied. Then Chalice and Jeremiah collected their things and left.
The walk back was silent. Jeremiah was still sullen. When they entered, Chalice removed her bed garments from her bag on the small table next to her bed and went into the washroom, shutting the door in silence.
Jeremiah dressed quickly into his nightclothes. Placing his bag under his bed, he thought about the moonbow and the shooting star they had seen that night on the mountain. Careful what you wish for, you may just get it, he thought to himself. He found himself staring out the window again.
Chalice came out of the washroom and joined him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
She didn’t have to ask him what he meant. She knew. “I didn’t think it applied to me,” she said. It was a lie but what else was she going to tell him? That she had been lying to herself?
“I know what you will choose, Chalice. I know you.” 
She gazed at him softly, unable to ease his pain, unable to reassure him that he was wrong.
He spoke again, quietly. “I don’t care about the law, I will never leave you.” She reached up to stroke his cheek and he lowered his head, peering into her eyes. Suddenly, a dark movement from outside of the window caught her eye. She could see two figures in the shadows, made by the window light of the tavern that shone from the east side of the inn. 
“Jeremiah … look.” They watched as a cloaked man and a woman dismounted their horses next to the stream, to allow their animals a drink. After a minute or two, they led them around to the front of the inn. “Who would be arriving here this late?”
“I don’t know. Should we tell Ben?” he asked.
“No. I don’t see how anyone would know we were here. Not this soon.” 
“You’re probably right,” he said and shrugged. “We better get to bed. We don’t have much time to rest tonight. Goodnight,” he said softly.
“Goodnight,” she replied, sliding into her bed. She stared up at the dark ceiling. Her mind would not shut down. Her thoughts and emotions roiled over one another. The decision she had to make stewed in her gut, though she had already known what she would decide, the moment she accepted who she was. Jeremiah was right. He knew her. Finally, the turbulence inside her abated and she fell asleep.




Chapter 11
Jezebelle’s Gift

Chalice awoke to the clicking of the bedroom door lock. She realized with a start that someone was trying to break into the room. She shot up and slid out of bed without a sound. The image of the two riders in the night formed in her mind. Nudging Jeremiah, she saw him open his eyes and hear the noise. He understood. Before she could move, he was in front of her, holding a jug from the bed stand, pushing her back toward the washroom. They were positioned behind the door, hidden and silent. Suddenly, the noise stopped.
“Here Nolan, try this one,” a woman’s voice whispered. The clicking recommenced and then the lock snapped. As the door slowly opened, Jeremiah gently pushed Chalice back with his left arm and, with his right arm, he raised the jug just above a dark head that appeared behind the door. CRASH! It shattered over the man’s head, knocking him to the floor. He was large and corpulent and his fall shook the whole building. Chalice heard the woman in the corridor running away from the room. Before Jeremiah could stop her, she jumped over the man’s body and bolted out of the door. By the moonlight from a window at the west end, she glimpsed the dark profile of a cloak disappearing around the corner into the stairwell. She moved to pursue the woman but halted to footsteps coming from the other direction. There are more of them?! she thought suddenly and spun in place, prepared to fight but was immediately relieved. It was Ben. The sound coming from their room had woken him, along with many other guests at the inn. Doors flew open and light flooded the hallway.
Ben raised his hands. “Don’t strike. It’s just me.”
“Ben!” she exclaimed.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Two people just tried to break into our room. The woman got away but Jeremiah managed to knock the man unconscious.”
“Show me.” As they turned toward the room, wearied faces stared at them in alarm from open doors of the other rooms. 
“Don’t worry. You can all return to your rooms. The situation is under control,” Ben said and they complied immediately. They seemed to recognize him from the evening before and apparently did not want to cross paths with him again. He followed Chalice into the room where Jeremiah was studying the unconscious man by lamplight. The enormous man was scruffy and smelled of tobacco and alcohol. 
Ben shut the door behind him. “I placed a seal on this door last night before going to bed. It woke me the second it opened.” He knelt down next to Jeremiah and began to rifle through the man’s pockets. He pulled out a small sack of coins from the man’s inner coat and poured a handful of gold coronals into his palm. 
Chalice noticed that they were different than her coins. It seemed they were engraved with the flame of Maalda. She reached down and plucked one from Ben’s hand to examine it. “These are odd. I’ve never seen coins minted this way.”
“You’re right. Most coins of the Realm are minted with the star of the Ielierian.”
“The star of the Ielierian? Is that what that is? I always thought it was just a wheel or something.” Chalice had never known what the symbol was. All she had ever known was that all the coins used as currency in the Realm were engraved with a circle that contained five lines, equidistant from one another, extending from the center of the circle to its perimeter, shaping what appeared to be a wheel. 
“No, it is not a wheel.” Ben smiled at her comment. “It is a star that is the sigil of your house, Chalice. The coins you carry are the ones that were minted while your family was in power. These coins, however, were minted by Dar’Maalda. Most people of the Realm quietly refuse to use them for that reason and so the coins usually have little value unless they are secretly sold to a smith to be melted and re-minted. This is something I am happy to say that Dar’Maalda has no control over. In any case, the fact that this man is carrying them tells me that he is an agent of the white palace.”
As Chalice handed the coin back to Ben, she could tell that he was worried. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
He paused thoughtfully and said: “I am wondering how he knew so quickly that we were here?” He dumped the coins back into the sack and returned it to the pocket of its owner. Rising to his feet he said: “We’ll have to figure that out later. Now we must hurry. They know where we are. Gather your things and get ready to leave. We are going now. We will have to meet up with your friends along the road.”
They swiftly collected their belongings and readied themselves for the road. In minutes, they were headed down the stairs. Halfway down, they met the innkeeper who was dressed in grey night robes, holding a lantern. His face shone with concern.
“I heard a noise. Is everything alright?”
Ben answered: “Master Duncan, we will be leaving early. A man and a woman attempted to break into one of our rooms. The man is still there, unconscious.”
“Oh my … my apologies! I am so sorry! I will be sure to take care of this immediately. Are you certain you want to …” 
Ben interrupted him firmly: “Master Duncan, for your own safety and that of your establishment, be on the lookout for strange visitors. Make sure the inn’s strongmen are alerted and ready.” 
“Not to worry, Master Graeystone. We have always managed to weather the roughest of storms here.” He chuckled as if the thought of it amused him. “Will you be needing a stable boy to help you prepare your horses?”
Ben moved past him and motioned the others to follow, irritated that the man was not heeding his warning. “No thank you. There is no time. We must leave now. Be sure to remember what I told you.” 
“I am so sorry for what has happened during your visit here. I hope to have your patronage again someday. Take care on the road.” And with that the innkeeper rushed up the stairs, not noticing Bunejab who darted behind Jeremiah’s shadow to avoid being seen.
Almost as soon as they reached the stable, they had the horses saddled and bridled and were on the road toward the village. The morning air was cold and damp with the dawn’s early light slowly replacing the darkness of the night before. A cool breeze ruffled Chalice’ hair as the sound of the wind through the trees met the clop of their horses’ hooves. Their intention was to meet Kirna and Tycho along the road to the periphery but, suddenly, in the distance, they heard rapid hoof beats issuing from a path within the dense thicket of trees to the right. Whoever the riders were, they were forcefully driving their steeds with abandon. Within seconds, the dark outline of Kirna and Tycho swam into view, riding two red-brown quarter horses, their faces stricken with terror.
Kirna reached them first. Gasping and out of breath, she managed to force out, in between gulps of air: “There are men … about ten of them … Draaquans we’re pretty sure … they burned my cousin’s farm … they will be here anytime.”
“This way.” Ben lifted the cowl of his cloak and heeled his mount into a gallop toward the back of the inn and over the shallow creek. Bunejab, who was seated in the front of his saddle, held tightly to the horse. The others followed quickly behind. He led them through the dense forest of silver firs that decorated the steep mountainside behind the inn, sloping upward from the stream. They crested the slope in a matter of minutes that, to Chalice, seemed like hours. Suddenly, they heard a huge explosion in the distance. Ben halted his mount at the top of the slope and turned.
“You smell that?” he asked, sniffing at the air. They did. It was an awful stink of burning flesh and charred wood. The strong smell permeated the clear mountain air. All of them reined their mounts in the direction of the inn. They could see it from their bird’s eye view, hidden in the shade of the trees that shrouded them. The sun’s first light was peeking out over the horizon and illuminated the terrible scene below. Many dark shapes scurried in the road, running for their lives as a ravenous blaze engulfed the inn.
“Oh no!” Kirna cried in dismay.
“Master Duncan! What will he do?” Chalice asked, turning to Ben.
Ben shook his head in grief. “I warned him. I feel badly about it, too, but there is nothing we can do. Take a good look, Chalice. Remember this,” he said gravely as he motioned downward toward the inn with his hand. “What you see here, this is the mercy of Dar’Maalda.” Then he turned to Kirna. “Kirna, your cousin?”
“He ran to a friend’s farm nearby. They didn’t see him.”
“Good, at least he is still alive.” He paused, sighing, as he glanced down at the inferno below, then said reluctantly: “We need to press on. Follow me.” 
He reined his mount to the right and continued along the ridge. Ben’s stallion was a silver grey Appaloosa, strong and sturdy, with a lustrous coat. The others were amazed at the uncanny ease with which he rode his mount through the dense mass of trees and vegetation that blocked the trail. It was clear that he had made this journey before. He rode swiftly, making it difficult for the others to follow. Yet, they managed. Hours passed and they found themselves descending the other side of the ridge into a wide valley of heath land dotted with eucalyptus trees. A few hours after midday, they stopped by a small river for rest and water. It was uncomfortably warm, but the strong, cool breeze of the valley and the cold water of the river refreshed them and quelled their thirst. A hawk’s cry resounded in the distance.
“What river is this?” Kirna asked as she bent low to plunge the mouth of her water skin into the water. Chalice, on the other hand, had pulled out her map and was searching for their position.
“The Vayiesan,” Ben responded. “It is narrow and shallow here but grows much larger toward the northern estuary formed by the river and the Aeolian Sea. It is fortunate for us since we will need to cross here to head west.” As he said this he held a strange object to his eye that he had extracted from his saddlebag. It appeared to Chalice as an elongated eyeglass, with grooves along the tube that allowed one to fold it flat for storage. With it, Ben was scanning the horizon along the trees from which they had just come.
“Yeah, here it is,” Chalice said, pointing to a fold on her map. Kirna walked over to study it with her. “And Cedarwood should be just over here.” She moved her finger to the left of the page.
“Kedra’Paola,” Kirna said, pronouncing it awkwardly.
“Yep, that’s it,” Chalice responded.
“I’m starving! What do we have to eat?” Tycho had just taken a large draw from his water skin and was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Here, Tyke.” Jeremiah pulled out a portion of bread and cheese from his bag. “Eat sparingly right now, alright? We need to ration what we have.”
Tycho frowned down forlornly at the small morsel that Jeremiah had given him and shrugged. “Alright.” He sighed. “Bummer. Well, if anything, at least I’ll lose some weight.” 
Kirna motioned to Chalice with her fingers in a sign language that they had shared since they were children. They had developed the language together during school classes so that they could talk back and forth without their Shaunta knowing. Yeah right, the hand signal said. Chalice could not help but giggle. Kirna knew him too well.
Tycho frowned. “Hey! What did you just tell her? Stop that you two!” They giggled even more as he glared at them.
The whole time, Jeremiah had been studying Ben. “Ben, what are you doing?” he asked.
“Curse it!” Ben removed the glass from his eye.
“What’s wrong?” Jeremiah asked and a hush fell over all of them.
“They are still following us.” He stared angrily in the distance toward the ridge. “How can that be?!?” he asked in exasperation.
“You can see them?”
“Here, Jeremiah, look. Just there.” Ben handed him the looking glass and pointed him in the direction of the riders. Jeremiah required only a second to spot them – dark shapes that moved noiselessly through the trees along the ridge in the distance.
“You’re right! Even with this looking glass you can still barely see them but they’re there.”
“And they’re following us. They have to be. There’s no one else out here. How ...” Ben paused and turned to the others, speaking in a stern voice. “Before I found you, did you meet or talk to any strangers besides the innkeeper? Did anyone give you anything?”
“Why?” Jeremiah lowered the eyeglass and looked curiously at him.
“The Terravail have ways of tracking people using small objects. It would be something you would carry with you, like a coin or a ring.”
Jeremiah shook his head. “I talked to a lot of strangers in town when I was shopping but I gave them all exact change. So, I didn’t receive any coins not even from the innkeeper.”
“What about you three?” Ben inquired of the others and Kirna and Tycho shook their heads.
Chalice quickly scanned her memory of the past few days. All that came to mind was the blind woman on the mat. “Well, we did meet an old blind woman in Woodrock but she didn’t give us any coins. It was the other way around. We gave her money.”
“Are you sure? She didn’t slip anything into one of your pockets?”
“No, she was blind … although …” Chalice paused.
“Although what?”
“Although she did call me princess and at the time I wondered how she knew I was a woman. Maybe she wasn’t blind after all. I’m certain she didn’t give us anything though. She was sitting on a cloth, knitting.”
“She called you a princess?” Ben asked curiously and Chalice nodded. “That’s interesting.” He glanced downward and furrowed his brows. “Well, if she wasn’t truly blind and was working for Dar’Maalda, we know now that she would not have been looking for a young woman. She would have been looking for a young man but that’s still interesting.” He scratched his chin in thought.
 “What do you mean? You think she knew Chalice’ true identity?” Jeremiah asked, incredulous. “That can’t be possible. Not even Chalice knew who she was at the time.”
Ben shot him a sharp look. “You think so? You would be surprised at what the blind can see, Jeremiah.” Turning to Chalice he said: “When did this happen?”
“It was when we went into town to get supplies before dinner. We saw the old woman right before we met … right before …” she stammered as her face lit up. Her chin dropped and it dawned on her. “It was her …” she said in a low, angry voice.
“Who? Right before you met … who?” Ben asked eagerly.
“Jezebelle!”
“Jezebelle? Who’s Jezebelle?”
“The spice lady that we met in town. No wonder she was so nice to us. She helped us find the shops we needed to buy supplies and while Jeremiah went off looking for them, I had a conversation with her in her shop. She gave me this.” Chalice removed the broach from her shoulder and handed it to Ben.
“That’s right! I forgot about that,” Jeremiah added.
“I thought it was odd that she was giving me such a fine piece of jewelry. It didn’t occur to me at the time. I should have known, though, especially when Master Duncan didn’t recognize her name,” she said regretfully, shaking her head.
“Are you talking about that lady that was behind the counter in the shop?” Kirna asked and Chalice nodded.
Ben held the stone in his closed palm and shut his eyes. The stone on the cord around his neck glowed a soft grey and light shone all around it. A few moments later, he nodded. 
“Yes, this is just what I thought. It is a daietych. That spice lady you met was one of Dar’Maalda’s spies. This is how we were found so quickly.”
Kirna broke in: “Of course! In the shop you told me where you and Jeremiah were staying and you even gave me the room number. Remember Chalice?” 
Chalice looked at her. “It’s also how they knew where you and Tycho were,” she said and Kirna nodded.
“That’s right. I told you where we were staying, didn’t I?” She paused. “I just wasn’t thinking. I was too excited to see you and I just wasn’t thinking of it.”
Ben looked sternly at all of them. “There’s no way you could have known or even suspected but let this be a lesson. Be wary of strangers, don’t accept anything they give you, and certainly be careful what you say around them!”
“Whaffa daiefik?” Tycho asked through a mouth full of food as he walked over to Ben to look at the blue stone.
Ben smiled at him. “A daietych is an object that can only be made by a Terravailian. It consists of the same material as a daioden except for one difference. The daietych contains another material as well and the two crystalline substances are folded in on each other, forming the object.” He held the broach so Tycho could see it clearly. “This other material is imbued with power that allows the daietych to serve a certain function, that function being whatever its maker wants it to do. In this case, the mother of pearl embedded within this broach has been sealed with a tracking power so that whoever holds the broach can be tracked by the creator of the object. That person will be able to feel where the object is at all times. This is how they have been able to follow us.”
Tycho stuffed the rest of the bread into his mouth and held out his palm to Ben. Ben handed him the broach and Tycho examined it closely. 
“I have an idea. Jeremiah,” Ben said.
“Yeah?”
“Can you find me a bundle of sticks and few long, thin strips of eucalyptus bark?”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.” He handed his reins to Chalice and ran off toward a knot of trees in the distance.
Chalice felt like she had a rock in her stomach. Is it my fault? she wondered. It was, after all, because of her actions that the destruction of the past couple days had occurred. She hung her head and said to Kirna: “Your cousin’s farm and now Master Duncan’s inn. I feel terrible.”
Seeming to read her thoughts, Kirna comforted her. “It’s not your fault, Chalice.” She put her hand on her shoulder to reassure her. “You didn’t burn them. They did. Ben’s right. There’s no way you could have known.”
Chalice glanced up at her best friend and fiery vengeance shone in her eyes. “I would like to see Jezebelle again someday. Next time I meet up with her, I will remember at what price her gifts come.”
“That’s the spirit!” Kirna smiled and hugged her.
After a few minutes, Jeremiah returned with the bundle of sticks and strips of bark. Ben gathered them together and assembled a tiny makeshift raft, intertwining the sticks with the strips. He placed the broach on top and rolled the layer of sticks over it, making a small wooden cylinder that gripped the stone inside. With the last strip, he tied the bundle tightly together and tossed it into the water. It bobbed up and down a few times before settling on the surface and moving north with the current of the river.
“There. That should get them off our trail. It will lead them north while we travel west. We need to move on now. The horses have rested enough.” Ben mounted his steed and clicked the young horse into motion. “Tycho, did you get enough to eat?” he asked, smiling at the young man.
“Well, no, but I’ll live,” Tycho answered, scowling.
“Awe, poor baby,” Kirna said in a patronizing tone and smiled at Tycho as she stroked his hair, brushing past him to mount her horse.
They crossed the river slowly. It was narrow and shallow but the current was still strong and the river bottom was strewn sparsely with sharp rocks. Finally, they reached the opposite bank and after passing through the forest thicket that lay on the other side, the ride to Cedarwood progressed smoothly. Within hours, they entered the Cedarwood forest. The shadows were lengthening and the air was cool and calm due to the late afternoon hour. The forest offered a clear, broad path on which they rode side by side, slowing their mounts to a walk. After many minutes, the path wound upwards around a large, steep hill. As they moved along it, Chalice glanced toward the sky to see tall, grey spires of an enormous fortressed castle peeking out from beyond the tall cedars that blocked it.
“Who lives here?” she asked Ben, pointing toward the towers. The others were gaping in the same direction.
“The Farahs. They are dear friends of mine. They are a very old and wealthy family. Their castle used to be a Naeonic school until it was shut down eighteen years ago by Dar’Maalda. Now, it is used in secret as a shelter for those in need of help and as we are in need of help, it is a fitting place for us to rest. We’re almost there.”
“A Naeonic school that was shut down? Why?” Jeremiah asked curiously. Chalice was certain he would have been interested in attending.
“Think about that question for a moment, Jeremiah. Why would someone like Dar’Maalda shut down a school?” Ben responded.
“Because he doesn’t want young people being educated unless he is in control of it?”
“Precisely. After he won the battle against the Royal Legions, he shut down Cedarwood University because he knew that the denizens of this area were too loyal to the Ielierian. Since then, many other universities have been shut down as well. The ones that are still functioning are being run under his tight rein. Fortunately, he cannot control everything that goes on in the smaller Naeonic villages. There, children are given an education by their parents and elders.”
“That’s right! In Canton, we attended school with our Shaunta,” Kirna added.
Ben nodded at her comment and then looked up. “Ah, here we are,” he said. They had arrived at a tall, stone wall that surrounded the entire fortress. Chalice noted that the shape of the wall around the castle was odd. Instead of extending straight out to a corner, it was angled to the left about fifty spans down and stretched out into the trees.
“The shape of this wall is strange,” she remarked.
“That’s because this is a bastion fortress,” Ben answered and seeing the question on her face, added: “A star fort. The outer wall around the structure is built into the shape of a star for better protection.”
“Oh, right, I see.” She nodded although she had no idea what that meant. A wide gap in the wall was given to a massive, wrought iron gate, large enough for several wagons to pass through side-by-side. Above the gate, hung a large bell under an arch that supported it. A thin rope that stretched from the bell to the wall, hung from a hole carved into the stone next to the gate. Ben pulled it twice and the bell rang loudly.
“Now we wait for Charleton,” he said.
“Charleton?” Tycho asked. “Is he the doorman … or actually, I should say, the gateman?”
Ben smiled wryly in amusement. “Yes, Tycho, he is the gateman, among other things.”
As they were waiting, Chalice’ skin itched and she knew immediately what the strange, unreal sensation was that she felt. She glanced upward and there it was.
“Jeremiah!” she called out.
He didn’t miss a beat. As soon as he saw her gazing toward the sky, he unlaced his bow and nocked an arrow. His reaction was so swift and his skill so practiced, the arrow was loosed before anyone knew what was happening. It flew true, right to its target and the red falcon plummeted from the sky, landing a few paces away down the path. Ben’s face tightened in alarm. They all dismounted and led the horses over to the fallen bird to find that the arrow had pierced its chest. It was dying quickly. Chalice noticed that the red color of its feathers and its eyes began to fade into a tawny brown as its life drained away. She stretched out her arm to reach down.
“Chalice, no! Don’t touch it!” Ben shouted but it was too late. When her finger met its wing, she felt a powerful jolt that shook her entire body. She fell to the ground. Darkness engulfed her and she saw two red, gleaming eyes that burned into her fiercely with an indescribable hatred. She knew the eyes could see her and it filled her with dread. She did not want to look at them but she could not turn away.
“Chalice! Chalice!” a terrified voice said and she woke suddenly, afraid of what she would see. But instead of eyes that were red and hateful, she was soothed by those that were brown and tender and desperate to see hers. She was lying on the ground in Jeremiah’s arms. The expression on his face calmed her and she immediately forgot about what she had seen. Her whole body felt as if she had been hit by a falling boulder. She tried to move and get up, but couldn’t. Fortunately though, she could still speak.
“I can’t … I can’t move, Jeremiah,” she said weakly. Her voice was shaky. Jeremiah lifted her from the ground, cradling her in his arms as he walked. Other faces swam into view, those of Ben, Kirna, Tycho and Bunejab. They were all there. 
“What was that, Ben?” Jeremiah asked, trying not to show any fear or worry and wishing Chalice would learn to be more cautious.
“I don’t know and that is what bothers me. I have never seen anything like this before.” He placed his hand on Chalice’ head and his stone glowed softly. Chalice felt a warm sensation rush through her like hot tea as it flowed down and heated her body. Ben frowned and then said: “I can’t heal this. I don’t know what it is. Come on. We need to get her inside, quickly.” As soon as he had spoken, the enormous gate behind them opened and a handsome, dark-haired, young man in fine clothing emerged.
“My Lord? My Lord Graeystone!? Is it you?” The young man paused in shock. “It is you!”
Lord Graeystone? Chalice wondered. Her thoughts were slow and she tried to focus. He is a Lord?
“Charleton! Charleton Farah! My good man, we need help. First we need to get this young lady to a bed where she can rest and receive treatment. The horses need to be tended and we need to sup before anything else. I will explain everything.”
“Absolutely!” He turned toward the gate and shouted. “William! Tremmon! Make haste! We have guests and their horses need to be stabled.”
Two burly men in smocks came running. They were both large, muscular and smelled of horses. Charleton continued giving instructions. “Please, place their belongings into the quarters of the North Wing, into Lord Graeystone’s apartments.”
“One moment,” Ben said to them as he removed a large cloth from his bag and wrapped it around the dead bird, lifting it into a sack that he attached to his saddle. “Please be careful with this. Thank you,” he told the men politely.
 “Here, let me escort you into the North Wing. Come. This way.” Charleton motioned to them and they all followed.
Cradled in Jeremiah’s arms, Chalice peered upwards to the towering turrets that reached high into the cedar tops. The castle was immense, made of smooth, dark grey Tusquaran stone, handcrafted by the Musquoni, the Tusquaran masons of the east. Dark green ivy curved along every wall and the structure held a patina of a bygone age, an age of chivalry and of noblesse. As they entered the angled bailey within, a young, beautiful, raven-haired woman ran to meet them, breathless. She wore a dark green, velvet, evening dress with lace at both the neckline and the cuffs.
“Wha … what’s happening, Charleton?”
“Naeren, get mother. Tell her we have new guests for tonight. This young woman is ill. I’m taking them to Lord Graeystone’s quarters.” The young woman glanced down at Chalice with concern. Her eyes were as dark as her hair and her face was fair, smooth and oval. It carried a touch of confusion as she darted back across the bailey and ascended the short staircase to the main entrance of the manor house.
Charleton led them to the left, around to the north side of the castle. They entered through a thick wooden door into a long hallway. An open door to their left revealed the plush and sumptuous apartments of the North Wing. The enormous room through which they passed was a large dining and sitting room, with a huge table, polished and gilded, that lay along the length of it. At the opposite end, a large, grey marble fireplace blazed with warmth. A circle of settees and small polished tables sat in between.
They quickly moved through, into a bedchamber that offered a large canopied bed, draped with grey silk, supporting a feather mattress. Jeremiah gently laid Chalice on the bed and covered her with a blanket. As soon as they were settled, Bunejab quickly got to work. He placed his medicine bag on a table nearby and shuffled through it.
“We will need a cloth, a basin of hot water, and a goblet,” Ben told Charleton who immediately left the room to collect the items requested. “How do you feel, Chalice?” he asked, taking a seat in a chair next to the bed.
“Like I fell from the Praeceps.” And she did. She felt like ten years of her life had been wrung out of her. She was unable to move and barely able to think.
“That good, huh?” joshed Tycho, in an attempt lift her spirit. “How do you always manage to get yourself into these situations? What are we going to do with you?” he asked, shaking his head with a smile. Kirna and Tycho had taken a seat on the opposite side of the large bed. Kirna was looking at her, trying not to show that she was worried.
Chalice managed a weak smile. “I don’t know, Tyke. I need … to be more careful,” she muttered through heavy, laborious breath.
Just then, a tall, beautifully elegant woman entered the room. She was dark of hair and eyes and dressed in a wine red evening gown. She bore a striking resemblance to the young woman they had seen in the courtyard. Her grace and air immediately caught everyone’s attention and she greeted them warmly. 
“Hello, friends, be welcome to Farah Manor.” Then the elegant woman turned around to gaze tenderly down at the face of her old friend and said, shaking her head in disbelief: “Benjamin Darren. I don’t believe it. I thought we would never see you again.”




Chapter 12
The Life of the Terravail

“Sieren!” Ben exclaimed and stood up, gazing into the kind face of their new hostess. They embraced in a tight hug.
“It is such a relief to see you! I’m so glad you’re here. Is Jor with you?” he asked.
Benjamin Darren? Chalice was confused. She looked at Jeremiah who understood her question and shrugged.
Sieren glanced back toward the door. “Of course. He will be along soon. We have instructed the chef that we will be dining in your quarters, if that is alright with you.”
“You honor me, Sieren.”
“No, you and your guests honor us, Benjamin.” She moved toward the bed and took a seat next to Chalice. “How are you, my darling? I am Sieren Farah. Sasha will be here soon with your hot water.” 
As soon as she had said it, a young, slim woman in an apron, with light brown hair tucked in a bun, appeared in the doorway with the items requested and set them on the table next to Bunejab’s medicine bag. Bunejab rushed up, dipped the cloth into the basin of water and placed it on Chalice’ forehead. In a matter of minutes, he had a goblet of warm liquid, treated with medicine, that she was sipping gently, with Jeremiah’s help. At once, her consciousness cleared and the leaden chains that had been gripping her body seemed to fall away. Her breath came more freely and she found that she could move her head. During this time, the others were in conversation with Sieren. They were introducing themselves and relating the story of what had taken place outside the courtyard. Chalice was curious about this elegant woman with whom Ben was so familiar. She wanted to know more about these people and their friendship with him. She had a feeling it would tell her more about Ben himself.
“You say it was a falcon?” Sieren asked. “But there are no falcons indigenous to these parts. The only falcons that I know of are …”
“Maaldanese,” Ben interrupted. “Exactly.”
Sieren nodded. “Ah, of course. The Naie’Ielian.” As she said this, there was a collective gasp from Jeremiah, Kirna, and Tycho. Sieren grinned wolfishly and continued: “Here, we are not afraid to call him by what he rightfully is, a false king, among other names that I will not repeat out loud. We are protected behind these walls.” Chalice could tell by the tone in her voice that she had no love for Dar’Maalda. “We are also protected by our status. As long as we keep providing him with the goods that he needs, he is kept at bay. Granted, we do get palace visitors from time to time but they do not stay long, only long enough to complete their business. We do not need to worry about them. There are many secret rooms and corridors in my family’s castle to protect the people here that we help.”
“The people you help? Like who?” Kirna asked.
“Those who are in need, like people who have lost their homes, their jobs, or their families because of his cruelty. What they have lost, we replace, whether it is a roof over their heads or a job or those with whom they can find fellowship, if not their real family. Unbeknownst to him, we especially help those who take part in the Resistance. That is our first priority. That is why we are honored to have Benjamin with us again. His role is central to the Resistance and its mission. So we are happy to help him and, what’s more, we are able to provide these services right under Dar’Maalda’s nose, without him even knowing.” She smiled mischievously at Chalice who smiled back. She liked this woman. She was elegant but tough.
“What is the mission of the Resistance?” Tycho asked.
“Why, to restore the old kingdom, of course. I have not given up hope that our glorious King Duquaine is still alive. We will find him.” She turned to Ben. “But enough of this. What of you? Why have you come, Benjamin? What can we do for you?” Just as she said this, a tall, handsome, fair-haired man in his middle years opened the door and the smell of roast duck and honeyed ham wafted in from the dining room.
“Darling, dinner is served.” When the man saw Ben, his expression immediately became one of joy and surprise. “Benjamin!” he exclaimed as he strolled over to embrace his guest. “You’re alive! We were worried that ...”
“Don’t worry, Jor,” Ben interjected. “They will never get me.”
“How long has it been?” 
“A long time! And I have much to tell you.” 
“I am looking forward to hearing it! Come. We will catch up over supper.” Jor’s deep voice filled the room as he spoke. He was a man who definitely had an air of authority and charisma, Chalice thought.
“Yes, we need to let this young lady rest and recover,” Sieren added softly and moved to meet her husband. All but Chalice and Jeremiah rose from their seats and followed the Farahs.
“Would you like me to stay here with you?” Jeremiah whispered to Chalice as he held her hand.
“No, I’m fine. Go and eat. You need it.”
“You want me to bring you some on a tray?”
“I’m not hungry,” she said as her stomach growled. It wasn’t true. She was starving but she didn’t like the idea of being spoon-fed like a baby. It was too embarrassing. “I just need to rest. I feel better though. At least I can move now, somewhat. Whatever Bunejab gave me did the trick.” She wasn’t lying about feeling better but she was still very weak. Whatever had struck her from touching the falcon would take a while to heal, she knew.
“Alright,” he said and stroked the damp cloth across her forehead. Placing it aside, he blew out the lamp, and then left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
“Thank you, Jeremiah,” she whispered and closed her eyes to listen. The scraping of chairs and the tinkle of silverware on plates echoed from the other room. The aroma that met her nose made her mouth water but she ignored it and concentrated on the conversation.
“Ah, Aruvian duck in Maliyan spices. What a feast!” she heard Ben say.
“This is the first time I’ve had the chef make this since she …” Sieren’s voice paused and then added reluctantly: “… was here. I’m sorry Benjamin, I forgot that it was her favorite, not yours.”
“Don’t be sorry. It is my favorite too,” Chalice heard Ben say. Who are they talking about? she wondered. She had the impression that the apology had to do with more than just a favorite dish. 
“So Benjamin, why have you come to visit after all these years? What do you have to tell us? It must be important,” the deep voice of Jor asked.
“It’s a long story but I suppose that it began with the book of prophecy.”
“The book of prophecy? I thought that was a myth,” she heard Charleton say.
“I don’t think so, Charl. Let’s listen to what Lord Graeystone has to tell us. I’m sure he has a very good reason for his visit,” Naeren responded.
“I am sorry. Please continue.”
“Don’t be sorry, Charleton. You are correct. To popular culture, the book is a myth. This is exactly what the Council has wanted the people to believe in order to protect the book itself. But in truth …” 
Chalice listened carefully as Ben unraveled the same tale he had shared with them the night before. Slowly, his voice began to echo in the distance down a long white hallway in which she strolled, to the winding staircase in front of her. Lifting her foot, she placed it on the first step and ascended. At the top, she led herself out into the courtyard through the short hallway and found the salty morning breeze touch her face and hair lightly. Sea graels cried above as the sun peeked over the horizon, coloring the sky in a dark peach. She drew in a deep breath and gazed out at the golden water through the embrasure. She had been here so many times before and it was always the same. Walking through the white corridor, ascending the steps to the courtyard, and seeing the morning sun. She knew that her quarry lay behind her but she could never turn to see it. It always lay just beyond her grasp. Suddenly, voices echoed down the hallway from where she had come. She strained to listen. A woman’s loud gasp caught her attention.
“I remember this. You were talking about it with Nathaniel before you left last time. So she is the one? I should have known. She looks just like him. I was right, Benjamin. You truly do honor us. Whatever you need, you will have it.”
“Thank you but all we will need for now is a safe place to stay for a few days.”
“Of course.”
A deep voice cut in. “You know what this means, Sieren?” the voice echoed through the hall. “We are getting close.”
“Yes, Jor, we are but she still has to accept it. After speaking with her last night, she has shown no sign of wanting to take her rightful place in the Terravailian world.”
“She will,” a familiar voice responded. Jeremiah! Chalice knew that voice. Is he downstairs in the corridor? I need to find him. She raced down the hallway and began to descend the staircase. The voices were getting louder the closer she came.
“What I’d like to know is how the secret got out. How did Dar’Maalda know? And how did he know that she was in Canton?” 
“I don’t know. It is troubling because it could mean that there is a traitor among the members of the Resistance, however impossible that may seem. The oaths have protected its secrets this long but someone may have managed to find a way around them. It has already happened once.”
“Or maybe one of his spies infiltrated the circle. That is also possible and more likely, I think. The missing Onyx was an entirely different problem, wasn’t it?”
“Hmmm … yes, it was. It still is.”
Just as she reached the lower level, the voices stopped and there was no one in the hallway. The silence stretched on as she searched for them. She peered into the quarters both to her right and left and saw no one. Then she suddenly felt a tug on her shoulder …
“Chalice.” She opened her eyes to see Jeremiah sitting on the bed next to her. Supper was over and he had brought her a glass of milk and buttered bread. “Here. This may help you sleep,” he said, proffering the food.
Finding that she could move again, although with difficulty, she pulled herself into a sitting position and took the glass from him. She felt much stronger and refreshed. The milk was cool and the bread was warm. As she drank and ate, her hunger abated. A small fire was growing in the fireplace across the room as the others had come in from the dining room with a nightcap to join them. Chalice tried to get out of bed but Bunejab rose from his chair and pushed her back, chittering something in rapid Chinukan.
“He says you need to stay in bed. I think he is right,” Jeremiah told her as he took a seat in the chair next to the bed to write in his notebook. She frowned. She hated being sick.
“Yeah, you need to get used to this, Chalice. Lounging in a castle, eating, drinking and having people serve you all day. Man, that’s the life. I want to be a Terravailian princess!” Tycho snorted with laughter. He and Kirna had taken a seat at the end of the bed.
Jeremiah glanced up from his writing and pointed at Tycho with the quill in his hand, a wry smile on his face. “Somehow, Tyke, I don’t think that’s what it entails, actually.”
Ben, who was sitting in conversation with the Farahs near the fire, smiled over his pipe and said: “Jeremiah is right. Terravailian life is very different, especially for an Ielierian.” Chalice studied him for a moment. She wondered what he meant by that.
“Ben, what does it mean?” she asked curiously. He quirked an eyebrow in question and she continued: “You said to me last night, ‘you do not yet know what it means to be Terravailian.’ What did you mean?”
At this, he sat up straight and said: “You want to know?”
She paused and then said: “Yeah.” He moved to take a seat on the large bed. The others were silent and listening intently. They were all watching him.
Ben nodded. “Very well, then. Where to start? At the beginning, I suppose. That is usually the best place to start.” He paused for a moment to tap his pipe and then continued. “Did Sebastian teach you the general history of Naeo’Gaea and of our ancestors before they lived underground?”
“About the Ancient World? Yeah, of course.”
“And you know why they built the underground cities?”
“Because of the Ice Age, yeah.”
“Alright, I will begin there. The original cities that were constructed were not like the underground dwellings that you saw in the Chinukan villages. You see, life underground for the ancients was very different than for the races that came after them. They relied solely on their special talents, knowledge and craft to survive underground and their life was hard. Thousands of years passed this way when suddenly there was a period of time that was marked by a great change. It all started with the wellsprings, after the landquake had destroyed many of the subterranean tunnels and cities. The wellsprings were originally the water source for each city, usually marked by an ornate fountain that was built above it to provide water for the people. For example, in Portalis, the wellspring is marked by the Castalian fountain. You will eventually see it when we get there.” She nodded and he continued. 
“Anyhow, after the quake, the water … changed. That is the only way I can think to describe it so that you will understand. As the water changed, the land and those who drank from the wellsprings changed. The world transformed and the people of the underground cities slowly began to develop abilities in different ways from one another. This transformation eventually led to the three different races that we know today. It is also how Naeo’Gaea got its name. The name translates to ‘New Land’, which is indicative of the land’s rebirth and its subsequent shift from the Ice Age.”
“I see. So, why did the water change?”
“We believe that it had something to do with the velarium.”
“Velarium? Is that the material that was introduced to Naeo’Gaea during the Ice Age?”
“Yes.”
“Is it the strange material that we saw in the walls of …”
“The Chinukan villages?” Ben interrupted. “Yes.”
“What is it? How does it work?”
“It is an element with a very unique internal structure. As for how it works, we have no idea, just as we really have no idea how life works. You see, velarium is a crystalline element that is not just part of the land like iron or bronze, it is also a living element. It grows and changes and responds to human thought and consciousness.”
A material that was alive? Chalice was finding this a little hard to believe but then it suddenly made sense and her face lit up. “Of course! That is how the vellen work!”
“That’s right. Very good,” Ben said, nodding. “With a touch of your palm, you can will the vellen to do what you want. The velarium in the wall can sense your thoughts and will respond in kind.” Chalice had a sudden flashback of what Jezebelle had told her. You have to have the right touch, for it is your touch that relates to the spices and if your touch is just right, the spices will know and respond. She concluded that if this element was in the water and the land, then it must also be in other things as well, like plants and spices. Then she thought about how she had failed to open the door when they visited Bunejab’s village.
Frustrated, she said: “Well, the vellen didn’t work for me. I must not have the right touch.”
Ben smiled. “It takes a few tries. In the future, your daieoden will help with that.”
“My daieoden? I don’t have one.”
“Ah, but you do and you have yet to find it. You see, when a Terravailian child, such as yourself, is born, her daieoden begins to grow near a wellspring. It grows and develops through time just as that child grows and develops and when she turns 18, her stone is ready to be used in her training.”
“How do I find it?”
“You will be pulled to it just as you are pulled to water when you are thirsty or to food when you are hungry. You can feel when you are near it. You will know. It is a tingling sensation that flows through your whole body. Usually when the Terravail come of age, they travel on a mission to find their stone. Most find it this way. Some find it before that, during periods of travel with their parents.” Chalice remembered the voyage with Papa to the Capital when she saw the Palace of Ielieria for the first time. She remembered the colossal monument of white marble and gold that sparkled so brightly in the sunlight with its banners flowing in the breeze. She also remembered that she didn’t need to go with him at the time, as it had been a business trip. She had asked him if she could stay home with her friends but he had insisted that she accompany him. She had always thought that that had been strange. She listened carefully as Ben continued. “Some never find it and some find it very late in life. I remember the story of one man, old Jedidiah Graham, who finally gave up searching for his stone and settled on the outskirts of a Naeonic village as a farmer only to discover it on his 100th birthday in a small cave near an unmarked wellspring that he used to water his crops.” Ben chuckled, shaking his head. “Go figure. He had been pulled to it after all and had just never realized.”
Chalice cut in: “You said that the daieoden are the crystals through which the Terravail access their power. So these stones, they are made of velarium, then?”
“Yes, so are the daietycha, in part.”
“So how do the Terravail use their power through their stones?”
“There is a great power in our multiverse that binds everything together and makes everything work. It flows through all things — all elements, all living creatures, all heavenly bodies in space, and all worlds. Throughout the ages it has had many names but we call it the avie. It flows from a source that has also had many names. The daieoden, being made of velarium, are a Terravailian’s gateway to this power. A Terravailian and her stone are one. She feels everything around her through it. She develops her ability through it. When she dies, her stone dies with her. It is alive with her and it dies with her. It is part of her being and part of her soul.”
“So what does it mean exactly when you say ‘her ability’?”
“Each Terravailian has either one very strong ability, or talent, in a particular area, or many moderately strong talents in many different areas. It depends upon the person and her uniqueness. For example, some of the Terravail are very gifted at reading and controlling the weather, while there are others who are gifted at healing. Some have a very small talent in all of them. You get the picture.”
“I do.” She nodded.
“Occasionally, there will be someone with a very unique gift – an ability to do something that no one else can do.”
“So you are wondering what my ability will be as a half Terravailian. You think it may be unique?”
“Exactly. With you we will be testing a new area of Terravailian power as there has never been anyone like you.”
“Right. You said that last night. I remember but I’m still wondering, what does it mean to be Terravailian? Does it just mean that I will have a stone and will be able to access power through it? Because if that’s it, I already knew that.”
“No, it’s not just that. There is more. Because of our stones, we also have a special connection to the land that other creatures in Naeo’Gaea do not have. The velarium that is part of the land around us, that you saw in the Chinukan village, for example, is one with the velarium of our daieoden. Even though physically separated, the element itself is one in being and because of this we are ‘At One’ with the land and everything that is joined to it.”
“The At One? You mean the Na’Veda?”
“Yes, that is old Cantonese for the At One or the One Knowledge. Did you learn that in your studies?”
“Yes, our Shaunta taught us that but he said that all creatures can experience this.”
“He is right. They can, but the Terravail experience it without effort and many times more acutely than any other creature in our world. To be truly At One, to fully experience the Na’Veda, as I’m sure your Shaunta told you, the other races have to concentrate, or meditate, on it.” Chalice nodded and he continued: “They also have to be ready, that is, mentally ready. The Na’Veda comes to them. They do not find it on their own. Both the Naeon and the Quaie’Miren feel this connection to the land but compared to the Terravail, their connection is very weak. It was the same way with the ancients. So you asked, what does it mean to be Terravailian? It means that you could sooner chop off your own leg with an axe than cut down a tree or dig a mine. You could sooner place your hand in a smith’s furnace than smelt iron or steel. You cannot alter or change or harm the land in any way. Whatever the land feels, you feel as well and just as profoundly and you feel it in both your body and your soul. This is how we are different when compared to the other races and what they experience. It is like comparing a sword cutting you in half to a small splinter in your finger. This is what it means to be Terravailian. The word Terravail in Angaulic literally means, ‘respect for the land.’ In my opinion, what it really means is our ‘at-oneness’ with it.”
“But you mentioned old Jedidiah being a farmer. How could he farm if he couldn’t do any digging?”
“Farming is not harming the land. Digging on the surface to plant crops that grow and are harvested is a natural process. I’m talking about actions that are unnatural, that harm or destroy the land or anything directly connected to it like cutting down forest trees or mining for gold and silver and other metals.”
“But if the Terravail can’t cut wood, dig mines or culverts, or make metalwork, among other things, then how do they build homes or channel water or make tools that are needed every day?”
“That is a very good question. This is exactly why we need the Naeon and why the races have been kept pure. They provide us with the essentials that we need, although we do have some abilities to create these things on our own.” 
Chalice was beginning to understand the relationship, and the gap, between the two races and why it was necessary. She was also beginning to see how this could foster prejudice and resentment between them. So she asked: “So if we need them so badly, what do we do for them in return?”
Ben glanced down at his pipe and sighed. “Well, now, nothing. Under Dar’Maalda, the Naeon supply us with what we need and in return, they are not destroyed. He seems to be under the impression that they owe it to us.” Ben scowled. “Under the rule of the Ielierian, the Naeon relied on the Terravail for protection, medicine, education and aid in other areas.” He shook his head in frustration. “And I am ashamed to say that, as of now, we have failed them. I fear their anger toward us is merited.”
Chalice thought that this was a bit unwarranted. “Well, from growing up in Canton, I know that they don’t really need help. The Naeon are quite able to function on their own.” 
“Yes, that is true, to a certain degree, but they are not flourishing the way they used to. What you have seen in Woodrock should be living proof of that.” She nodded, remembering her experience in the village. She had to admit that he was right. She listened carefully as he continued: “Before Dar’Maalda stole power, the young Terravail who came of age would enter training and there they discovered their abilities. If their talents lay in a certain area, they could become Agavae, if they were male, or Sorosi, if they were female.”
Chalice recognized the words in Angaulic. “Caretakers?” she asked, suddenly realizing that they had the exact same meaning as the words she had learned in Chinukan. Jeremiah was looking at her and she knew that he was thinking the same thing. She said: “The Chinuka have something very similar in their language. I just learned it. Jeremiah taught me.”
“Aukâwá and Státtèkráj,” Jeremiah interjected, as he scribbled in his notebook.
Ben nodded. “That’s right. We inherited the language of stewardship from them. In fact, I learned this from your parents, Jeremiah. It was the Chinuka who taught us about our duty as stewards during the First Time, when they showed us how to live on the land again. They taught us about the delicate balance of life and how all living things are interconnected and interdependent … and, how the land itself is also a living thing. The Naeon and the Terravail used to work together to maintain that equilibrium. If it was disrupted, say if too many trees were being cut down or if too many animals were hunted and killed, the caretakers would feel it and put an end to it in order to restore balance.”
“So, what exactly did these caretakers do for the Naeon?”
“When the Terravail had completed their training, those who chose to be Agavae and Sorosi went into the service of the King and traveled the Realm in pairs, one male, one female, tending to the needs of the Naeonic villagers. This was their calling. Some aided in childbirth and healed sickness, disease, and injuries while others were able to control the weather, say, for example, if crops needed to be watered and there was no rain or water source nearby. Others were able to re-enrich the soil if it had been depleted of nutrients because of non-rotational farming, or they could increase the fertility of seeds, plants and wildlife if they were diminishing. And still there were others who had abilities in maintaining the peace and settling feuds among the people. And of course, the most important, I think, were the educators, or the Terravailian scholars that we call the Readers who visited Naeonic schools and colleges to supply them with insight and knowledge.”
Jeremiah looked up from his notes. “The Readers? What kind of knowledge?”
“The Readers are those who have special abilities in discovering hidden truths of our world and of our multiverse and teaching it to others. There have been many notable Readers among the Ielierian, for example, Lavoan Todorine who coined the Star of the Ielierian, and Raegalia Svadir, who unveiled the true nature of our multiverse and changed the name. Much of what we know today about our world and about the ancient world comes from the Towers of the Readers, which were scattered among the Terravailian universities. All education of the Realm was provided through these universities, many of which have been shut down, you remember, as we discussed earlier.”
Jeremiah nodded. “Right. I remember. So, why are they called the Readers?”
“You two have a lot of questions!”
“Well, we need a lot of answers!”
“Fair enough,” Ben replied and continued: “They are called the Readers because in the same manner that we ‘read’ from books to learn, the Terravailian Readers ‘read’ from the avie to discover information about the world.”
Chalice was still thinking about the ‘caretakers’ and asked: “So these traveling stewards, they must have been able to tell if they were close to a lumberyard, a mine, or a forge, right?”
“Correct and this is why life as an Agavae or a Sorosi was not easy. It is also why they traveled and did not stay in the east permanently. They could feel the damage being done.”
“By feeling it through the land?”
“Yes, through their daieoden.”
“What if a Terravailian hasn’t found her stone yet, can she still feel it?”
“Yes, even if the stone is far away, the Terravailian still has her natural connection to the land. Why do you ask, Chalice?”
She was beginning to piece together all the events of the past few months and the way she felt since leaving Canton. “Well, it just makes sense, that’s all. Growing up, I would have never felt it since Canton is largely a trading village where lumberyards, stonecutters and smithies are all located far away along the periphery. After leaving Canton, I felt strange at times while traveling along the road. I thought that it just had to do with what was happening at the time, that it was maybe homesickness or something. Now I realize that it was different because it went away when we ascended the mountain to the Chinukan camp. In the guest’s quarters of Bunejab’s village, I felt something that was quite the opposite. It didn’t make sense to me at the time.”
“Ah, yes. It is peaceful there.”
“This feeling, it came from being inside the rock cliff then?”
“Yes, because the Chinuka have always lived in harmony with nature, not against it. It was this harmony that you felt.”
That’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard! Chalice thought silently to herself. Yet, somehow, she knew it to be true. It was difficult enough for her to believe in a living element that could listen to people but the land itself communicating with them was beyond what she could have imagined. It would take some time for these concepts to sink in but she knew she would have to experience the Na’Veda before fully understanding it. She could hear the voice of her Shaunta in the back of her mind. You cannot make it happen, Chalice. It will come to you when you are ready. Now she understood why he focused so much of this training on her and not on the others in her class. Because he knew. She had always thought growing up that he was such a strange old man. Now she knew why.
Chalice glanced down at Jeremiah, who was writing furiously in his notebook. She had to smile. She knew he was recording the whole conversation and the information they had just learned. Then suddenly he looked up at Ben and asked: “Ben, not to change the subject but, what is the Council? You mentioned it during supper.”
“Yes, I did. The Protegerial Council of Portalis. It is the body of representatives, both Terravailian and Naeon, that maintains and protects the underground world. Normally, they meet twice every year for two weeks to discuss issues. Since Dar’Maalda seized power, they have met a good deal more than that. You will learn more about it when we get there. Your parents will teach you.” Jeremiah nodded thoughtfully, as if finally receiving a long-awaited answer. So this was the secret society to which his parents belonged, Chalice thought. Jeremiah returned to his book and made a note.
Chalice was studying Ben. She was still wondering about who he really was and how he knew so much about her family and about Jeremiah’s. 
“Ben, I have another question.”
“Yes?”
“What is your real name? Is it Darren or Graeystone?”
He nodded. “I thought you might ask that. My paternal surname is Darren. Graeystone is my adopted surname as you can see by the color of my stone.”
“And the color of your eyes,” she added, glancing up. “Is that a coincidence?”
“No, a Terravailian’s stone is usually the same color as his or her eyes.”
“I see.” She nodded. This made sense to her as the eyes, she believed, were the window into the soul. “And your paternal surname, Darren, does it have any relation to Sir Theodore Darren?”
He paused, with a strange look on his face, and then finally nodded. “Yes, he was my son,” he said softly.
She suddenly remembered what he had said the night before about Sir Darren’s last battle: I am puzzled, and for many reasons, saddened, at the outcome of the battle. So this was the reason, she thought. Sir Darren had been his son.
“And you have a wife too?”
“Yes, Loreaine of the Ielierian. She was the sister of your grandfather, Kieyavin, who lived seven generations ago. She died trying to free your sisters.”
“But I thought you said the Ielierian were protected by oaths.”
“They are but it is the Ielierian way to choose death before defeat. She chose to die instead of being captured.”
“Oh.” She looked down at her hands, thinking. It finally struck her how old he was and how he knew her family so well. She suddenly had a great deal of respect for him. This was a man who knew what it was to suffer the loss of loved ones. She lowered her head in shame for having asked and said: “I’m so sorry. You lost your family.” Then she looked at him curiously and added: “And after all this, you are still loyal to my father?”
He smiled at her warmly and said: “Always.” She smiled back, amazed by his faithfulness.
Jeremiah was looking at Ben as though he had just met him. “I’m sorry, Ben. I had no idea.”
“Don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago.” Ben smiled and looked down at Jeremiah’s notebook. “Did you get all the information you need? I notice you have checklist there.”
“Well, most of it but I am still wondering about something.”
“What’s that?”
“Jor mentioned a missing Onyx. What is that?”
“That’s right. He did. The Onyx stone is a daietych that went missing from our possession about the same time that Duquaine disappeared. I felt that there was a connection between the two events so I went in search of it, with the help of your parents, when we went looking for him. We didn’t find the stone, only a string of betrayals that led all the way back to Dar’Maalda. One of the Council members and his whole family disappeared as well. Now, we believe them to be dead although we never found any proof. I am still convinced, however, that the stone had something to do with the King’s disappearance.”
“Why? What does it do?”
“No one knows. It is a daietych that was created around the same time that the Delphaline was written, which was a long time ago. Its original maker, I’m sure, knew its purpose but he, or she, never recorded it anywhere. This Terravailian, it is believed, was someone with one of those unique talents that I mentioned. Through time, many of the Readers have studied the Onyx, trying to trace its power to figure out what it does, but so far, none have succeeded.”
“You know, Ben, we may have it!” Chalice exclaimed. Ben stared at her in shock and she continued: “The Chinuka gave us a box with a stone and a dagger in it. I had no idea what it was but I accepted it anyway. Queen Svati seemed eager for me to have it.”
“Where is it?” he asked.
“In my bags. Jeremiah, can you get it for him?”
“Sure,” he said as he set down his notebook and quill and moved to retrieve the box from her bag. Chalice continued explaining to Ben what had happened to them during their time in the Chinukan camp. He listened to her keenly as Jeremiah brought him the box and opened it. Ben took the stone out and laid the box onto the bed. He studied it as they told their story.
“And you didn’t think to ask what it was for,” he commented.
“Well, no,” she responded. “I just thought it was a gift or something. To be honest, I was more concerned about leaving without running into any more trouble.”
“The importance of it didn’t occur to us at the time,” Jeremiah added. “I asked Bunejab about it later on but he said he didn’t know.”
Ben looked at the Chinuk, who shook his head in agreement. “Alright. I can tell just by looking at it that it is not the Onyx. The Onyx is a dark stone made of layers of various shades of velarium and emerald. This stone is made of something else. I will need to take it into the study to examine it. May I?”
“Of course!” Chalice said. “You don’t need to ask. Here, take the box with you.” She suddenly felt exhausted and lay back, settling her head on the pillows and releasing a deep breath.
Ben got up, taking the box and replacing the stone. 
Sieren rose from her chair. “It is late and we should let Chalice get some rest,” she announced to everyone in the room. “I will show you all to your chambers for tonight.” And at that, they all rose from their seats and said their goodnights.
“I’ll be along in a minute. I just need to finish this,” Jeremiah told Sieren, motioning to his notes. She nodded.
Chalice lay there as her eyelids began to close and she was asleep before she could even tell them goodnight. After finishing his notes, Jeremiah just sat there, watching her draw in the deep, long breath of sleep, wondering what dreams she was having, and wishing he could be there with her. He reached up and brushed a lock of golden hair from her cheek with his finger. How different they were from each other. How different her world was from his own. All this time, he had never known. Now he knew that the separation between them was irreconcilable and, yet, he didn’t care. Why do I trust my foolish heart? Why do I listen to it? he asked himself. He knew the answer. It was because without her, he was lost. Without her, there was nothing. Finally, he grew weary, kissed her forehead silently and retired to his chambers.




Chapter 13
A Secret Passage

Chalice awoke to a flickering light. It was coming from the door crack of her bedchamber. She had been having a wonderful dream about a huge banquet in a grand hall with everyone she knew around her. She wished she were back in the dream. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she knew she needed to eat. Slowly, carefully, she got out of bed and groped for her lambskin. Sliding it on, she left the bedchamber to find the fire still burning in the next room. The room was huge and the fire provided the only light to guide her but it was just enough. 
I have to find food, she thought to herself as she let her nose guide her. She could still smell the remnants of dinner. A long hallway opened on the left side of the dining room and stretched into the darkness, dimly lit by the wall lamps that dotted the corridor along its length. She could detect the scent of a kitchen nearby and saw light from underneath a doorway ahead to the right. She was still a little tired and weak but strong enough to walk. Arriving at the door, she could hear the clanking of pots and pans as they were being scrubbed and scoured by the kitchen maids. She raised her fist to knock, then stopped. Down the corridor, just a few a paces to the left, firelight glimmered out of an open door and she heard faint voices coming from the room. As she approached, the voices became louder and she recognized them. She entered what appeared to be an enormous study, similar in design to that of Maehbecks’ house but much longer and wider. A roaring fire blazed on the hearth to the left, at the end of the room, and the clock on the wall above it shown midnight. She could hear the clear voices of Ben, Jor and Sieren issue from a closed door on the right. She thought she might ask Sieren if she could have a midnight snack but hesitated before knocking as soon as she heard the topic of conversation.
“This is not a daietych,” she heard Ben say.
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know but it has no velarium. It is pure obsidian.”
“What is obsidian?”
“It is a dark, crystalline material that the Chinuka shape into tools. It is very strong.”
“So, it’s just an obsidian stone?”
“No, it is not just that either. It contains some kind of power and a lot of it, a sort with which I am not familiar. This stone was not made to do what the daietycha do. It was made to hold something.”
“It’s a container?”
“It appears to be. When I trace it, it glows red hot from within its center but I can’t read it. It is not a power I can control. It’s of a different essence, I think. Odd. I will need to take it to the Readers. There may be one of them that studies the elements that will know what it is.”
“And the dagger?”
“It is made of the same material but what its purpose is, I can’t say. I’m hoping they will know more when we get to Portalis. There may be something in the library there that can help us as well.”
“How are you planning to get there?”
“By boat … but there’s a complication.”
“What’s that?”
“I will have a whole village of people with me.” 
“A whole village!?” Jor laughed. “Yes, that does complicate things doesn’t it?” 
“Ben, why are you going to have a whole village with you?” Sieren asked curiously.
Ben started in about their plans to go to Chainbridge to free the prisoners. As he spoke, Chalice studied the room. At the other end, near the fire sat a beautiful darkly polished cedar desk and a raised relief globe on a tall stand to the right of it. The length of the room was almost completely given to bookshelves with sliding ladders. In between the bookshelves on the walls, polished wooden panels supported candelabras that were nailed into place. A bit of light would be good, she thought. She decided that a candle would do and strode over to the wall.
“So how are you going to do this Ben? Do you need help? If so, we can send our men. There’s no need for you to do this on your own.”
“Thank you, but no. That many people might attract unwanted attention and it won’t be necessary. I used to teach at Chainbridge. I know that place like the back of my hand. I know a secret entrance, too, and I know exactly where the prisoners will be. It’s the only place in the whole castle that will hold them. It’s just a matter of going in at night, disabling the guards, if there are any, and freeing the villagers. We can lead them back out the passage. It should be easy.”
“If you say so. We trust you, Ben, but … once you are all out, how are you going to hide, much less guide a whole village of people to Portalis?”
“Hiding them is easy. It is a simple matter of bending light. Transporting them … well, that is another matter. There is no velarium in the ground anywhere nearby so I can’t make a transport. This is another reason why I am here. I will need your help once again.”
“But how … oh, I see! You want to use our merchant ships at the dock in Auvergny.”
“If that is alright with you.”
“Of course! You can have as many as you need.”
When Chalice had reached the candelabra, she reached up and tugged one of the candles. It wouldn’t budge. She pulled harder, to the left, up and then to the right. She suddenly let go as the whole candelabra shifted slightly in the direction she had just pulled. She thought she had broken it until she heard a soft click and saw that a portion of the wooden wall panel to the left opened up. She pulled it back and peered down a winding staircase into darkness. A secret passage! she thought. Sieren had told them about this. She glanced up and found another candelabra on the opposite wall. She rushed over and grabbed a candle from it, which slid out of its socket with ease. Making her way to the fire, she lit it and went back to the secret door. 
Suddenly, she heard Sieren say: “The papers you will need to procure our ships are in the study, Ben. Here, follow me; I will get them for you.” Chalice heard their footsteps approaching the door and suddenly understood her precarious position. She realized that there was no way she would be able to explain what she was doing. For them to find her there, sneaking around their castle, with a lit candle, in front of a secret passage, would be an insult. So she did the only thing that she could do. She jumped into the doorway and slowly closed the wooden panel until she heard the soft click of the candelabra shifting back into place. A movement to her immediate left caught her eye. She discovered that it was a latch from inside the doorway that was attached to the candelabra on the other side of the wall. She realized, to her relief, that the noise had come from the latch shifting with the candelabra, closing the door. Then she turned to descend the staircase. She was too curious not to explore what lay beneath. She heard the others in the study and quietly stepped with care so as to not make any noise along the way that would alert their attention. 
The stairs seemed to spiral forever but she finally reached the bottom. The room below appeared to be a study similar to the one above but slightly longer and more narrow. The light of her candle did not reach the other end but she could see bookshelves, a small closet, and a long, polished wooden table that stretched down the length of the room. On the table were scattered papers and what appeared to be a collection of maps. She approached the table cautiously. As she moved closer, the candlelight reached the other end of the room where she could make out a door to a bedchamber and another staircase that led upwards, she supposed, to another room. Letting her curiosity get the best of her, she glanced down at the table top and saw a huge drawing of a meadow and a stream, surrounded by trees, cradled in a small dell between two hills and a towering rock cliff. She shuffled the paper to the left, to see those that lay beneath. One had what looked like a measured layout of a huge city and the other was what appeared to be a diagram of a network of small tunnels and large corridors. There were markings and names written all over the papers.
Suddenly, she heard faint footsteps coming from the top of the staircase and her heart skipped a beat. Here they come again! she thought. Panicked, she peered back down at the papers and names flashed in her mind as she frantically studied them — Portalis, Castalian fountain, Reader’s Tower, Narvoq, Xiron, Chaeopira, Gesheriq, and Barenthren.
“We think you should see them, Ben. It’s important.” The clear voice of Jor echoed from above. They were getting closer, she realized, and there was no time to escape to the staircase at the other end. She cursed herself for being such a curious fool and swiftly bolted for the closet. She opened it quietly and quickly ducked inside just before their candlelight reached around the last turn of the staircase. The closet was small but there was just enough room for her to stand. Realizing that her candlelight would give her away, she blew it out immediately and slid behind a cloak hanging from a hook. She placed her ear as close to the closet door as she could and listened. She prayed that they wouldn’t open it. Then she heard footsteps entering the room.
“Here they are. We thought this would be the best place for them. This is the map that reveals the location of Portalis. This one concerned us the most,” Sieren said.
There was a long silence and then she heard Ben say: “Yes, well almost. You have to know the general location already to be able to decipher it but, yes, I see what you mean.”
“Here are the others that detail the layout of Portalis itself as well as the underground cities that are connected to it.”
Again there was a long stretch of silence as she heard the shuffling of papers. “Yes, these are quite thorough. What is this over here?”
“This, we think, is the diagram of the palace of Maalda because the one underneath it, here, is a map of the islands.”
“But Ben ...” Chalice heard Jor cut in, “... what is interesting about this diagram of the Maaldan palace is this. You see? Just here.”
“Hmmm, what is that?” Ben asked.
“We don’t know, but there is obviously something huge located right on this spot just outside the castle wall, important enough to be marked on the map.”
“Where did you get all of these?” Ben asked again.
“We confiscated them from a Searcher and interrogated him. He said that they had been in his family for generations.”
“Hmmm … a Searcher for the cup? Are you sure?”
“Well, that’s what he said. Why?” 
“These maps belong in the Archive.” The Archive? What is the Archive? Chalice wondered silently as Ben continued: “This is how I know. You see this inscription on top? That is a special sign of the Readers. And here is the serial number, right here. This tells me that these were once catalogued there. This is another thing that worries me. How can these have been taken out?”
“I don’t know. I just put them down here so that they would be safe and that you would have access to them if you ever came to visit again. I’m sure you will want to take them with you now that you are returning to Portalis.”
“No. Our journey ahead is too dangerous. If something went wrong, they could fall into the enemy’s hands. It’s a good thing you confiscated them before they did. Thank you! They can stay here for now. They will be safe enough. This castle is a fortress so I’m not worried. I’ll come back for them later.” Ben paused and said: “I would like to write down these serial numbers, though.” Chalice heard a shuffling sound and the scratching of a quill on paper. Then Ben said: “Sieren, Jor, if you find any other maps or documents with these marks, please keep them down here, alright?”
“Of course!” Jor answered.
“Alright, time to go back up,” she heard Sieren say. “Our tea will be ready by now and we need to get those procurement papers prepared for you.”
“After you, darling,” Jor said.
Chalice heard them leave the room and ascend the staircase back to the study. She waited an extra minute just for good measure and then let out the long breath that she didn’t even realize she had been holding. They were gone. Slowly opening the closet door, it suddenly occurred to her that there was another problem. It was pitch black and she couldn’t see a thing! She moved very slowly and carefully, groping her way to the staircase at the other end of the room. She had no idea where it led but she was sure that if she took the other one, she would find Ben, Sieren and Jor in the study talking until the early morning hours and she couldn’t wait that long. She was still hungry and weak. She made her way slowly up the staircase, groping carefully along the sides, until she found a door. She felt for a latch, similar to the one she had seen at the other end, and gently shifted it to the left. It moved silently until she heard a soft click. The door panel opened in a narrow crack and all she could see beyond it was darkness. She crept as silently as she could into the room, in case it was a bedchamber. She didn’t want to wake anyone this late. Then she suddenly recognized the open door, the flickering light, and the bed where she had just been sleeping. It was her room! The other staircase led back to her room! Then it struck her — not her room, Ben’s room. Of course. It was for his use when he came to visit, she realized. It only made sense that he would have to have direct access to a secret study that he could use — a secret study where Sieren could hide maps of Portalis to keep them safe.
Placing the candle into her bag, she decided to leave the room once again in search of food. What a fiasco! she thought. This time, she would just stop at the kitchen and not let her curiosity go wild again. This time, she told herself, she would stay on track – no detours, no interruptions, just straight to her target. She was determined and as soon as she passed through the doorway, she jumped with a start.
“Chalice! My dear, what are you doing out of bed?” Sieren exclaimed. She had been standing just outside the study speaking with a kitchen maid. “You shouldn’t be up,” she said as moved brusquely down the hallway to meet her.
“I’m just so hungry,” Chalice said.
“Of course! You must be famished. I will have Sasha bring you a tray.” She moved toward Chalice and offered to take her coat. Chalice acquiesced, as they both re-entered the bedchamber where she found herself once again in bed. She noted how motherly Sieren was, taking her coat and boots, placing them aside with her bags, and tucking her in.
“I’ll go tell her now to bring you a tray. You stay in bed.”
“Okay, goodnight Sieren.”
“Goodnight, darling.”
Chalice couldn’t help but feel a little pang of guilt at that after having sneaked so furtively around her home. Well, it was true that she hadn’t intended to but all the same, she felt it was a little dishonest. If it hadn’t been for my stupid curiosity! she thought. It was her weakness. She told herself that she would have to work on it.
After a few minutes, Sasha arrived with a tray of food, that she set on the bed next to Chalice. She lit the lamp on the bedside table, wished her a goodnight and left the room. It was the honeyed ham and roast duck that the others had had that evening. There were vegetables, peas, warm bread with butter, and a large glass of milk. She dug into it rapaciously, as if she hadn’t eaten in months. The nourishment immediately gave her strength. It was just the sustenance she needed and so she lay back on the pillows with a full belly, satisfied, and closed her eyes. Suddenly, she remembered the candle she had taken from the study. She realized that in the morning they would notice a missing candle from the candelabra. So she told herself that after they had all gone to bed, she would sneak back in and replace it. This was what she had intended but before she knew it, she was again fast asleep.




Chapter 14
The Cedarwood University

A few days passed before Chalice was fully recovered from her illness. Sasha tended to her meals and clothing while the others were enjoying themselves around the castle. She had insisted that she was well enough to join them touring the castle, riding in the woods and playing games, but Bunejab wouldn’t have it. He ordered her to remain in bed, taking medicine everyday until she was back to her normal strength again. She was miserable because it was quite boring. The only excitement was in her evening visits with the others, who regaled her with tales of their adventures. On the third day in the late afternoon, Jeremiah came to see her, taking his usual seat in the chair next to the bed.
“I was doing really well until Tyke accidentally knocked me in the back with his polo stick and I fell off Banner,” Jeremiah said, pointing to the part of his back where he had been hit. He had grass stains all over him and was telling her about the polo game they had played after lunch. The story about Tycho didn’t surprise her. She was sure he hadn’t meant to do it but Tycho was always clumsy. She never told him that, though. 
“My shin is all bruised, see …” Jeremiah said as he pulled up his pant leg and showed her a huge black-and-blue mark that ran along his shin.
“Ooh, that looks bad.” She winced.
“Bunejab said he would give me something for it after dinner so I’m not worried.” He paused. “Are you well enough to join us tonight?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think so.” She knew he had been waiting for her to recuperate so he could show her around the castle. From what he had told her, there was plenty to see — the playing fields next to the enormous stables, the array of archery walls where he had been practicing that morning, the garrison, the gatehouse, the storage rooms and everything else in the bailey, the cistern from which water was channeled into the castle, the classrooms, the workshops, the grand library, which was almost as large as the grand hall, and finally the towers, walls, and battlements with creepy arrow slits, murder holes, and machicolations that gave her goosebumps. “Where are the others?” she asked.
“They’re still putting the horses away and cleaning up. Everyone joined in the game, even the servants and the guests. Well, everyone except for Bunejab. He was on the sidelines with his bag in case anyone got hurt.”
“You did.”
The side of Jeremiah’s mouth quirked in a crooked smile and he shook his head. “This isn’t serious. After I fell, I decided I had had enough and left for the stables. He tried to give me a poultice for it when I walked off the field but I told him I wanted to head back to the castle.” He paused, glancing around. “I like this castle. It’s a great place. I’ve never known people like the Farahs before.”
“Yeah, they are really nice,” she said, suddenly feeling another pang of guilt for what had happened the other night in the secret study. She knew she needed to tell someone and she trusted Jeremiah.
“What’s up?” he asked with concern. Apparently the feeling of guilt had shown on her face.
“I have something to confess,” she admitted as she studied her hands. “I woke up in the middle of the night ...” She proceeded to tell him the story and he listened carefully.
“Where is the entrance?” he asked, glancing around the room.
“Right there.” She pointed to the left, where the wooden wall panel sat between the armoire and the writing desk. He walked over and nudged the candelabra to the right. It shifted with a soft click and the wall panel cracked open. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised but he was still jolted when he saw it. He pulled the door open all the way to peer down the staircase.
“Wow, you’re right!” he said, then slowly shut the door and walked back to the bed.
“So … you think I should tell them?” she asked.
“I think you should at least tell Ben. The apartments on this wing seem to belong to him.”
“Well, yeah, I agree with you but the truth is that this part of the castle doesn’t really belong to him. It belongs to the Farahs. I feel like I should tell them.”
“Well, you can tell all three of them. I would make sure you are not around the others when you do, you know, just in case.” 
She nodded. Seeing a puzzled expression on his face, she asked: “What is it?”
“It’s strange, Chalice. You say that this castle really belongs to the Farahs and it’s true that it has been in their family for generations, yet they act as if they don’t own it. They act as if everyone else has a special right to it.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
“You’re right. I noticed that too when we first arrived. They are very different, aren’t they?”
“They are.” He nodded. They suddenly heard voices drifting from the corridors outside. “Here come’s Tyke.”
Jeremiah was right. He was the first to pop his head into the door. “How ya feelin’?” His eyes smiled with humor and cheer. Kirna followed right behind him as they took a spot on the bed next to Chalice.
“Good!” She smiled at him. It was always good to see Tycho. He had a way of lifting her from somber thoughts.
“I suppose Jeremiah told you all about the game, huh?”
“Yes, he did.”
“His team still won regardless. You should know that!”
She smiled wryly. “I believe you.”
Just then, Ben walked in to inform them that dinner would be ready soon and they nodded. He took a seat next to the bed.
Tycho continued: “I fell off my horse, too, at the end. I felt something brush my shoulder and I lost my balance. That never happens!” Chalice looked over and met Kirna’s eyes. Kirna shook her head at her as if to say, ‘forget it’ and Tycho continued: “It was strange because Ben was right next to me and he was on the other team. Hmmm …”
“What are you insinuating Tycho?” Ben raised an eyebrow. “That I pushed you?” He shook his head. “I was too far away.”
“Yeah, but you are Terravailian.”
Ben smiled. “Using your power in a game is cheating. Even if I had wanted to, I could not have used it to knock you off your horse.”
“Oh, give it up Tycho! You fell of your horse because that happens all the time!” Kirna broke in.
“Nuh uh!” he said defiantly and she rolled her eyes. 
Just then, Charleton walked in with a small cup in his hands. He shook it at Tycho and it rattled. “Do you know how to play jags?” he asked.
“Yeah!” Tycho answered excitedly and jumped up from the bed. It was his favorite game. Jags was a game of triangular dice that Tycho loved to play but only if he could win, which he usually did. The game consisted of seven matches and whoever won the most matches won the game. The two young men sat down on the seats near the fire and began to engross themselves into their first match.
Chalice looked at Ben. “What do you mean, Ben?” she asked.
“What do I mean? About what?”
“Why couldn’t you use your stone to knock Tycho off his horse? Not that you would but I’m just asking. Why? What do you mean?”
“The Terravail cannot use their power to harm or kill another living creature.”
“Why?”
“Because it is a violation of the natural order. The avie is the power that connects and nurtures all living things. We cannot use it to kill or harm them. You see, we cannot use that which creates and maintains life to destroy it.”
“So it cannot be used in battle then?” Jeremiah asked.
“It can, just not directly. For example, it can be used as a shield to protect something or someone. Or it can be used to start fire, winds, rain, or thunder and lightning, all of which can serve as tools in battle, not to destroy but to defend. If you try to use it to destroy something that is alive, it will not work. For example, if an enemy attacks you with arrows, you cannot create lightning to strike them down but you can create a shield of air or a heavy rain or fire that will render their weapons useless. You see?”
“So battle with the Terravail is a matter of strategy and cunning?” Jeremiah added.
“Exactly. Very good! You learn quickly.”
“Thanks!” he replied. 
“It is also a competition of who has the greatest power. One side may have a brilliant strategy but if they don’t have enough Terravailian power to execute it, they will lose. It’s very complicated.”
“So, for example, what would you do if …”
As Ben and Jeremiah continued to talk about battle strategies, Kirna told Chalice about the castle. During the time that Chalice had been bedridden, Sieren and Jor had given them all a historical tour.
“… and they took us to the oldest tower in the castle. Sieren calls it the astronomy tower. She said it was perfectly intact when they built the castle except for a few minor blemishes. In fact, this castle is a reconstruction of one that existed anciently. It was in ruins when they first found it,” she said.
“Really?” Chalice was amazed. She had always believed that nothing was still standing from the ancient world and yet the castle stood as proof that there was.
“Yeah, it had strange marks and cuts in the walls and no one knows what they mean, at least that’s what Jor said,” she continued: “There were also these weird instruments that looked similar to the eyeglass that Ben has. They were up on the top of the tower.”
“I can’t wait to see it!” Chalice said excitedly. “Was Jeremiah with you?”
Kirna smirked. “Yeah, of course, he was the one asking all of the questions.”
Chalice smiled. She could picture the scene in her head. He was so predictable.
“You coming to dinner with us tonight?” Kirna asked.
“Oh, yeah, of course.” 
“I win!” The shout startled them and they turned their heads to see Tycho throwing up his hands in triumph. Apparently, he had won the match.
“Not quite.” Charleton laughed at him.
“What do you mean?!” he asked, nonplussed. “Swords trump clovers!”
“Yes, but hearts trump swords. See?” Charleton responded, pointing to one of the dice.
Tycho looked down and frowned. “You’re right. Dang it!” he said in frustration. “Alright, we’re playing again. My turn to go first.”
“Sorry Tycho, but you will have to play later. It’s time to go get ready for dinner, I think,” Ben interrupted, nodding toward the door where Sasha stood. She was motioning for them to come. Chalice smiled at Kirna. They both knew that if Ben let him, Tycho would play all night until he won.
“Okay,” he said reluctantly and picked himself up from the chair, staring at Charleton. “But as soon as dinner is over, we’re coming back!”
“You’re on!” Charleton replied, laughing.
“We’ll see you in there, Chalice,” Kirna told her and with that, they all rose from their seats and headed out of the room.
“You want me to close the door?” Jeremiah asked her.
She nodded. “Please. I need to change too. Thanks!” she said as he shut the door. She slid out of bed and felt a shiver from the cold marble floor underneath her bare feet. A chill ran up her spine. She shook it off and headed for the armoire that Sasha had filled for her with dresses of every design and color. She chose a light blue dress with sashes of white silk around the waist. Then she slid on a pair of matching slippers below it. It was true. She always wore blue but it was her favorite color. Tomorrow, she would wear a different color, she promised herself. She washed her face in the washroom and ran the comb through her hair several times until she had the right curl and bounce to it. 
After she had finished getting ready, she made her way out to the dining room, where the others were already seated in front of a feast of rack of lamb with potatoes, salad, peas and beets. She hadn’t really noticed before how stunning the dining room was. The first thing that caught her eye was the height of its ceiling that stretched far up in the air. The walls were adorned with arras and tall mirrors that hung under beautifully arched stained glass windows. The faint light of dusk was fading outside and a warm fire gleamed cheerfully in the fireplace. Stand lamps, positioned at intervals along the walls, radiated soft light, and the clock on the wall chimed six. Jeremiah moved her seat back as she approached. Bunejab was next to him. He was seated in a chair that appeared to be specially made for him to sit at the table with the others. He stared at her and she was suddenly worried that he might insist that she return to her bed. To her relief, he did nothing of the sort. Chalice sat down and settled her shoulders into the chair.
“How are you feeling dear?” Sieren asked.
Chalice smiled gratefully. “Really well, thanks to everyone who has taken care of me these past few days.”
“It is good to have you here with us tonight. We have been waiting for you to get better.” She passed Chalice the plate of peas. “Here, would you like to start?” And with that, they all passed around the dishes and filled their plates with the delicious meal that the chef had prepared for them. The conversation was light and mostly focused on the game that they had played that day. Chalice, however, was still curious about what Jeremiah had said regarding ownership of the castle, so she decided to ask.
“Sieren?”
“Yes?”
“Jeremiah and I were talking about something that we were noticing here. Something that is very different from anything we have ever seen.”
Sieren furrowed her brows. “What’s that?” she asked.
“Well, your family owns this castle, right?”
“Correct.”
“For a long time?”
“Yes,” Sieren responded and Ben cocked his head to listen. He wondered where she was going with the topic.
“And yet, you call these apartments Ben’s quarters. Jeremiah told me that you treat the rest of the castle as if it belongs to everybody else, even those who are staying here for only a short period of time. I was just wondering why that is. I know it’s a weird question.”
Sieren smiled warmly as if she had been asked the question many times before. “Because it does belong to them as much as it belongs to us. Officially we own it, but we do not really own it, not in the way you think.” 
Chalice frowned in confusion. “I don’t follow.”
Sieren continued: “You see, to us, we consider ourselves the overseers of the castle and its grounds. We say we ‘own’ it but it is a different sense of ownership. You have all pretty much grown up under the law of the Naie’Ielian, which assumes that people own the land and everything on it and can do with it as they please but the natural law, and the law of the Terravail, as taught to them by the Chinuka, is that we do not own these things. It is quite the contrary. The land owns us. We, and everything we create, belong to it. Long after we are all dead and gone, the land will still be here, caring for and nurturing future generations, and not just generations of people, but generations of all the creatures that share this world with us.” Sieren shook her head in disgust. “The Maaldanese are very ignorant to think that they can own anything. They are a very proud and arrogant people. Someday, they will learn the truth.”
“Truth? What truth?” Chalice asked curiously.
Jor cleared his throat and said: “Darling, maybe we should change the subject.” He was looking at Sieren with a stern expression on his face.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You are right. I get too worked up over this subject.”
Naeren, feeling the awkwardness of the situation, took the opportunity to redirect the conversation. “Chalice, Kirna says you are interested in seeing the astronomy tower. Am I right?”
Chalice realized adeptly that she had touched on a subject that was taboo and so she didn’t press it further but instead said: “Oh, yeah, I would love to see that.”
“Maybe we will have some time after dinner,” Charleton added.
“That would be great!” Chalice said as Jeremiah and Kirna beamed at her. “What is the astronomy tower? If you don’t mind me asking.” At this point she was almost afraid to ask too many questions, in case she stumbled upon a topic that they couldn’t discuss, but Sieren answered without hesitation.
“It is the tower room in which we observe and map the star constellations.”
“Star constellations?” Chalice asked.
“They are groups of stars in the sky that we observe at night. We are analyzing how they shift in the sky in a constant pattern throughout the year. In fact, it is very fascinating. Through our studies we are beginning to learn that the stars have other shifting patterns that take hundreds of years to cycle.”
“Why?”
“Why do they shift?”
“No, I mean, why do you study them?”
Sieren put down her knife and fork and leaned back slightly in her chair. “Well, the main reason is because we have studied the stars and their motion in the heavens ever since this castle was constructed. It was part of our official curriculum when it was a university. We have, or I should say, ‘officially,’ that we had many fields of study here, but the origin of this particular discipline started when my family first built the castle over a thousand years ago. They chose this site because of the ruins that lay here. It was obvious that a large fortress had been built here long ago but they didn’t know who built it, why they built it or when. So they studied it. They eventually sent out for Readers to come examine the remains. They found that it was older than anyone had thought. They couldn’t place an exact date on it, mainly because our modern calendar is so different, but they believe it was constructed sometime during the Golden Age of the Ancient World.” 
Chalice was transfixed on Sieren, drinking in every word she said. She found the ancient people to be the most fascinating subject in the world, mostly because no one really knew much about them other than they existed and were very intelligent. The fact that they had been so powerful and yet did not possess even a shred of the abilities of the people of the New Millennium was amazing to her.
Sieren continued: “The only tower that was still complete, apart from a little weathering on the outside, was the astronomy tower. Its style on the outside was the inspiration for the rest of the structure that my family built, with the help of the Musquoni. The Readers made drawings of what the ancient castle had looked like and my family used that as a guide. The astronomy tower, however, only needed a few touch-ups but other than that, not much was done to it. The tower is significant not just because of that but also because of the mysterious inscriptions all along the inside of it. They puzzled even the Readers and to this day have not yet been deciphered. It was obvious, however, that they had something to do with the sky and the heavenly bodies that move within it, both at night and during the day. And thus began this unique field of study and why we call it the astronomy tower. The word astronomy literally means star-arrangements.”
“Why do you think it has something to do with the stars? What do the markings say?”
“It’s not really so much what they say as where they are positioned.” Chalice looked confused and Sieren said: “I will show you later. You will understand when you see it.”
Chalice nodded. “I’m looking forward to it!” 
She was so excited to see the tower that she proceeded to wolf down her supper in haste. Jeremiah frowned.
“Hey, slow down there champ! You’re going to choke yourself.”
“I wanfa getch fo fa fower,” she said with her mouth full of food.
He grinned widely. “Well, you won’t get there if you choke to death.” She smiled at him and her stuffed cheeks puffed out.
“You look like a crazy chipmunk, Chalice,” Kirna remarked.
“Yeah, a crazy Terravailian chipmunk,” Tycho snorted.
After supper, they rose from the table and Sieren showed them down the corridor to the inner courtyard of the castle. It was enormous. It was surrounded on all sides by walls stretching up as far as the seventh floor. Windows, terraces, and floral arrangements jutted out from them on every side and ivy laced the length of it. Sieren explained that the inner courtyard had been used for graduation celebrations when the castle was a university but now it was used for festivals and holiday parties for all the guests and servants, and for all those who lived nearby.
“Even the Haeliad,” she said. “This is one of the few places a person can still celebrate the winter holiday and not have to worry about retribution.”
“We celebrate it in Canton ... or at least, we did.”
Sieren noted her sadness and said: “And you will again.”
“Why did Dar’Maalda place a ban on the Haeliad?” Jeremiah asked.
Ben answered: “Because the Maaldanese did not participate in it, the original one, the Egress, and they were not guided by the Chinuka the way we were. The Maaldanese came from a different place. No one is sure where, as they hold their secrets tightly, but we think it may have been from one of the lost cities.”
“The underground cities?” Chalice asked.
“Yes, that’s what we think, but we have no proof of it. It is just something we suspect.” She nodded.
When they had reached the steps that led to the foyer, Chalice noted two marble statues, of a man and a woman, that sat on each side of the entrance. They were large, regal and statuesque.
“Who are they?” she asked.
“They are my ancestors. They are the two who began this huge project that eventually became Farah Manor, the Cedarwood University.”
“Wow!”
They silently entered into the grand hall where they stood frozen to the spot. If she had thought that the chambers in Ben’s quarters were large, they did not even compare to the grand hall that she saw before her. There were tables lined up in rows on the floor, and great tapestries hanging from the walls, in between tall, arched, stained glass windows. In the front on a dais stood a podium with a long table and seats in the background.
“What is this for?” Chalice asked.
“For castle meetings.” Sieren winked and Chalice understood suddenly that Sieren was still very much running a university without the King’s consent.
“Oh,” she said, “so where do all the meeting attendants stay?”
Sieren smiled knowingly and said: “In the chambers that I mentioned before.”
“Oh, I see.” Chalice smiled back at her, thinking of the secret study and bedchamber that she had discovered on the first night. When they left the Grand Hall, they walked a corridor that led to a doorway. They entered and ascended a long, spiraling staircase. It was much longer, Chalice thought, than the staircase she had been down the previous night. Finally, when they were all breathless and practically couldn’t manage another step, they entered a huge circular room. Before Chalice had a chance to examine it, Sieren led them up a small set of steps that brought them to the top of the tower. They found themselves on a huge platform with an incredible view of the trees, the castle grounds and the night sky. It was very dark and the stars shone brilliantly. Chalice felt goosebumps on her arms from the chilly breeze that whistled through the cedar tops.
“They are bright, aren’t they? The moons’ cycles are at the equinox right now. Perfect for studying the heavens,” Sieren explained.
Chalice knew that the lunar equinox meant that each moon was in between its cycle. Neither Chauma nor Maana could be seen at this time. They were both on opposite sides of their world, balancing each other out and leaving the blackest darkness, providing a very small window in which to see the night sky at its best. She noticed the large apparatuses sprawled across the middle of the terrace and asked: “Are these the instruments you use to view them?”
“Why of course! We call them lunarscopes. We initially designed them to view the moons but now we have made them powerful enough to image the entire night sky. Would you like to see?”
Nodding eagerly, Chalice moved forward and placed her eye to the narrow end, as she had seen Ben do with his eyeglass. 
CLACK. Starting, Chalice looked to her left and saw Tycho holding on to one end of an instrument, a piece of it lying at his feet. Kirna was shaking her head at him despairingly.
“Oops,” he said sheepishly to Jor who was peering at him through the darkness. Apparently Tycho had been trying to open the lens cap and had dropped it on the ground.
“Here Tycho, let me help you,” Jor said as he moved to pick up the cap. He had been helping Naeren and Charleton, who were using a larger lunarscope to view the sky on the eastern side of the terrace. The instrument was so big it took three people to turn it.
Chalice smiled and returned to her viewing. Sieren moved the device in a westerly direction and suddenly, Chalice could see, to her astonishment, a small sphere with ovals surrounding it.
“What is it?” she asked.
Sieren smiled. “We just found it. It is different than a star. It is a world, we think, that is similar to our own. We have called upon a couple Readers to come analyze it for us. They are the only ones who may be able to make sense of it.”
This comment sparked Ben’s interest. “Who did you contact?” he asked.
“We contacted Marcus, who passed on the message. Was that alright?”
“Of course.” He nodded.
“Come, let me show you the room below. Really, it is the most fascinating.”
As they re-entered the lower room, Sieren and Ben placed their lamps in the middle of the large circular chamber so that they could all see the walls. All around them, in three hundred and sixty degrees, were markings of what looked like groups of dots, in distinct patterns along the wall. Above them, strange inscriptions were etched into the stone. In between the groups of dots, the walls were cut through to the outside, in peculiar shapes that Chalice could not make out. As she moved closer to the markings, she could see that each dot was actually made of five lines extending out from a central point forming what appeared to be a star.
“I understand now!” She looked at Sieren. “I see why you said it was obvious that the astronomy tower had something to do with the stars. These are clearly stars,” Chalice said and pointed to one of the five-spoked symbols.
“Yes.” Sieren nodded.
“This is interesting,” Chalice noted.
“What is?” Ben asked. 
“If you draw a circle around this, you get the star of the Ielierian, like on our coins.” Ben and Sieren glanced at each other instantaneously and then suddenly looked away when Chalice turned her head toward them. It was slight but she had caught it. She realized that she must have touched upon another taboo subject.
Sieren, however, responded to her comment serenely. “Yes, we believe these stars to be constellations that the ancient people recorded and used for various purposes. They were important to them for some reason, either religiously or epistemologically. We think that these star constellations placed here serve as a clock, or a calendar, or maybe even a map. We’re not sure. You see, the light, when the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, at different parts of the year, touches these constellations through the slits in the wall on the opposite side of the tower, illuminating them in different ways. It creates an illusion of light and shadow that forms pictures on the wall but the cuts are hewn in such a way that only one picture shows at a time, only at a certain point in the year and only when the sun sits on the horizon. The picture overlaps its corresponding constellation, connecting the stars in that constellation with light. These pictures don’t make sense to us though. We don’t know what they signify. We think whoever designed this was trying to tell us something but since we have lost the ancient tracks of the sun and stars in the sky throughout the year, we will never know what it was.”
“I can see why you think that maybe this was a calendar or a clock but why a map?”
“Well, we believe that at certain points of the year, these constellations could be seen on the horizon just before sunrise or right after sunset, depending on where this spot, that is, this site of our castle, was located in the ancient world in relation to the night sky.”
“Oh, I get it,” Chalice said, “the constellation on the horizon matching the constellation on the wall. It would give you the location of the castle relative to the positions of the stars back when the castle was built.” Sieren nodded and she continued: “So these groups of stars, have you found their location in the night sky?”
“That’s what I asked her,” Jeremiah said.
Sieren smiled. “I don’t mind answering it again. For some, Chalice, we think we know their location but for others, it is very difficult because there are so many stars in the sky, it is hard to tell where these constellations fit. They could fit in literally thousands of different places.”
“It’s like a huge jigsaw puzzle.”
“Exactly, and what makes it even more difficult is that we are just now learning that these star patterns shift in cycles that last hundreds of years. We can’t be sure if that was also the case back then, either.”
“How do you know that? Is it because your family has mapped and measured them for over a thousand years?” Chalice asked.
“That’s right,” Sieren said.
“That’s a lot of work!”
“It is.”
“So why is it that the star patterns shift positions?”
“It has to do with the motion and rotation of the sun, moon, and even the land that we sit on right now …” Ben interrupted, looking sternly at Chalice, “But we don’t have time right now to go over it. If you want, Chalice, you can come back and study astronomy here, but right now we have to go over our plans for Chainbridge. Sorry, but we have more pressing issues at the moment.”
Reluctantly she conceded and said: “Alright.” Then they all followed Sieren back down the stairs to the Grand Hall and the corridor that led to Ben’s apartments.
As soon as they were all back in Chalice’ bedchamber, Sasha rekindled the warm fire and laid a tray of tea out for them. Tycho and Charleton recommenced their game of jags, while Ben sprawled large sheets of paper over the table in between the settees and examined them. They were maps. Chalice wondered where he had gotten them as the vision of the secret study flashed in her mind. Ben picked up his tea cup and took a sip, pointing to a line on the map.
“We will take this trail. Not many know of it so it will be safe enough. We will have to cross the river Kedros here.” He moved his finger to the left on the map and Jeremiah’s eyes followed.
“Which means we will have to cross by bridge or ferry,” Jeremiah said.
“That’s right. The Kedros is very much like the Canterine. It is deep and wide enough for ships to sail along it. Fortunately for us there is a bridge right here where the river is the most narrow. It is only a couple of hours away on horseback. It is an old bridge but I’m sure it is sturdy enough to cross it.”
Ben’s comment pulled Tycho’s attention from the game. He looked up and his eyebrows rose. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Don’t worry, Tycho. It should be fine. I would prefer to take this route rather than the main Culmanoq road that leads to Northbridge near the sea. Too many people travel that route. Even if I tried to hide us, we would probably be seen.” Tycho nodded and turned back to his game.
“Has anyone given any thought on how we are going to free them?” Kirna asked. As soon as she had said this, Ben continued with the explanation that Chalice had heard the night she found the secret rooms. They listened intently, interested in what he knew about Chainbridge and its underground passages. He showed them the layout of the fortress on a paper that he had stretched out on the table. The underground passage was marked in with ink.
“Here is the library on the lowest level, or what used to be the library. I’m sure it is quite different now. Anyhow, it is the only place in the whole structure with the potential to hold that many people,” Ben said, pointing to the location on the map. “We will take them out here and lead them to Auvergny, which is just over the hill, where the ships will be docked. I will be able to hide us until we reach it.”
“And everyone will be able to fit onto the ships?” Jeremiah asked.
“Yes, there will be plenty of room,” Sieren responded. “No need to worry about that.”
“Now, all you have to worry about is when you want to leave Farah Manor,” Jor said, turning to Ben.
Ben drew breath to reply but Chalice interjected: “Although I would love to stay here longer and learn more about your beautiful castle, I really want to find my grandparents and the others that are with them. Who knows what conditions they are suffering right now. We don’t have the luxury to stay here for very much longer.”
Ben gaped at her, surprised by her assertiveness. He knew that she was right and everyone realized that that was all that needed to be said. No one disagreed.
“We will leave tomorrow then, right after breakfast,” Ben added. Then he bent down and picked up the wooden box that contained the strange dagger and stone. “Chalice, here, you will want to place this in your bags. Seeing as how Queen Svati placed it in your care, it would be doing her an injustice to take it from you. Be careful with it. We need to take it to the Readers for analysis.”
“Of course,” she said.
“So you don’t know what it is?” Tycho asked. At this point, he had apparently lost all interest in his game with Charleton and was listening to the conversation.
“Well, yes ... and no. I know what it is to a certain degree but I don’t know its purpose,” Ben answered. “Only a specialized expert of the elements will be able to understand it and explain it to us. In any case, if Bunejab’s Âwásötah gave it you, there must be an important reason.”
Jeremiah looked up. “Ben?”
“Yes?”
“What did you do with that bird?”
“The falcon?”
“Yeah. Did you examine it too?”
“I did and I found nothing,” Ben answered gravely. “Whatever it was before, whatever power it possessed that harmed Chalice, we may never know. Now, it is just a plain falcon. Dead, but still just a falcon.” Jeremiah nodded, his face tight with concern and his brows furrowed in thought. Ben continued: “I know. It’s disappointing. From what you told me about your experience with that bird, I’m certain there is a connection to Dar’Maalda. The kind of power it possessed is very deadly and I have never seen it before. It is disconcerting because it is hard to fight against an unknown. If I could have examined it alive, I may have been able to see into his power and that kind of knowledge would provide us with the ability to thwart him.” Ben paused and shook his head. “Let’s not think about it for right now. We need to focus on what we need to do in the next few days.”
Jeremiah nodded and rose from the chair. Ben collected his papers and placed them in his bag while the others finished their tea and replaced their cups. Sasha came to straighten the room and collect the tray as the others said their goodnights and retired to their bedchambers. They had had a full day and they all knew it was time to continue on their journey.
Lying in bed, Chalice couldn’t sleep. She pondered the dangers that lay ahead. She refused to accept that any harm would come to the people that she loved. She certainly refused to accept that any harm would come to her, either. Defiantly, she promised herself that after everything was over, she would return to the Farahs indefinitely and study astronomy. She would solve the riddle of the mysterious tower. She would.




Chapter 15
A Narrow Escape

Jeremiah woke to a ray of light beaming in through the arched window onto his bed. As he lay there, he examined the red, green and yellow pattern of light that colored the duvet, painting the picture from the stained glass above. Thoughts of the past week raced through his mind. Chalice is right, he told himself. They needed to leave. It was good that they had been allowed to stay there while she recovered but now it was time to move on. He was concerned about his family. The more he learned about Dar’Maalda, the more he worried. Drawing breath, he pulled himself from the sheets, dressed, and freshened up in the washroom. The aroma of eggs, bacon, and fresh coffee drifted into his chambers from the kitchen down the hallway and his stomach rumbled. Ben had told them to be ready before they sat down to eat and he was glad he had packed everything the night before.
Arriving in the dining room, he discovered that the table had already been set for breakfast. He was the first one there. He was always the first one awake but then again, he had always kept early hours. He decided to let Chalice wake on her own. Although she was fully healed, she still needed as much rest as she could get before they left. He sat down and the servants immediately brought in the dishes of food and pitchers of coffee and juice. After a while, the others slowly began to emerge from the hallway to join him. Soon, they were all seated, except for Chalice, and eating vigorously, excited but nervous for the journey ahead. He was even surprised to see Naeren and Charleton there as well.
“We wanted to come have one last sit-down with you before you go. It has been so much fun having you here,” Naeren said to them.
“I wish we could stay longer,” Chalice voice echoed from the doorway. No one had heard her open the door but there she was, standing straight-backed and beautiful, he thought, in her blue riding habit. “I do plan on coming back,” she said and smiled at Naeren, taking a seat next to Jeremiah.
“We definitely look forward to another visit from you!” Charleton said to them. “You especially, Tycho. We need to finish our game of jags.”
Tycho smiled weakly. “Of course,” he replied. By his rueful expression, Chalice could tell that he was not looking forward to the game. He must have been losing, she thought as she and Jeremiah exchanged a wry look.
“Naeren, Charleton, how are the new children doing?” Sieren asked.
“They are doing surprisingly well despite the fact that their parents are dead,” Naeren replied, shaking her head in disgust. “One of them wouldn’t eat but we finally managed to get some food into her. Sasha is taking care of them today.”
“That is good news,” Sieren said, relieved. “Sasha is very good with children. With her, they will heal quickly.”
“What happened, Sieren?” Ben asked.
“A small village in the periphery was attacked a couple of days ago. The children were found yesterday evening wandering in the forest, foraging for food. We were informed this morning that they had been brought to the castle for care.” Chalice was shocked. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“What happened to the rest of the villagers?” Ben asked.
“We sent out a party of our people to see to the damage control. We will find out more in a few hours.”
“And the attackers?”
“They haven’t yet been found but we have a suspicion. Only Dar’Maalda’s men could be this cruel.” She paused and looked at Ben. Her features shown with concern. “Are you sure you want to leave today, Ben?”
He frowned in thought. “We have to. If we take the trail I suggested, there shouldn’t be any trouble.” He saw that she was still looking intently at him. “We will be careful, Sieren,” he said and that seemed to comfort her.
“Alright, if you say so.”
Chalice was confused. She couldn’t understand the reason for all this reckless hatred and killing of the Naeon. To her, it was completely senseless. She put down her knife and fork, sighed, and settled her shoulders back in the chair.
“I don’t get it, Ben. Why are they so cruel? Where does all this hatred come from?”
“From their leader, I imagine,” he answered.
“But why is he so evil? People aren’t born evil. They become that way. So what happened to him?”
“No one knows, Chalice. If we knew that, we would be one step ahead of him. If we knew that maybe we could have stopped him early on and none of this would have ever happened. We can never be sure what causes him to behave the way he does.”
“Well, I mean, what is he going to do? Kill everyone in Naeo’Gaea? He can’t!”
“You don’t understand, Chalice. He will raze every city, every village, and every farm to the ground if he has to in order to find you. He won’t stop.”
“This man is crazy!” She said, exasperated. “Why do his people follow such a lunatic?!” 
“That is a good question. Perhaps because he is a powerful leader. I don’t know. Not much is known about the Maaldanese. What we do know is that they are very different from the rest of races in Naeo’Gaea, regardless of being Terravailian themselves. They are a proud and independent people. We also know that none of them are Naeon but we don’t know why. All we know of their culture are the glimpses of it that we observe from those who have taken over the west.”
Suddenly, Chalice felt a sharp pain in the side of her head and lifted her hand to massage her temple. It surprised her. She had never had a head pain like this before.
“What’s wrong?” Jeremiah whispered.
“My head.” She grimaced. “It hurts.”
Ben stared at her, his expression serious. “What does it feel like?”
“A splitting headache. It’s a sharp pain, right here.”
“As though someone is sticking a knife into the side of your head?” Ben asked.
“Yeah, that’s exactly it,” she said as she rubbed her head. Jeremiah had his arm behind her, holding her steady.
Ben looked alarmed. “We need to leave,” he said and began to rise from his chair when, just then, Tremmon ran in from the hallway that led to the outer courtyard. William followed close behind him.
“What is it Tremmon?” Jor asked.
“Sir.” He panted. His face was pale and he was covered in sweat. His chest was rising and falling as if he had run the whole way from the outer wall. “There are men at the gate, demanding that we let them in.”
“Who?” Sieren asked.
“The King’s men, Madam.” Kirna gasped and Tycho looked as if he were ready to bolt for the door.
“Don’t panic!” Ben commanded. “We are still safe in here.” He turned to Chalice. “Chalice, don’t focus on the pain. Concentrate all your thoughts on something logical, like a game or a mathematical equation.” She looked a question at him. “Just do it!” he said and she nodded.
“Which one is in charge?” Sieren asked.
“Ronaan,” William replied.
“Right, Ben, you know what to do,” Jor said and Ben nodded. Then Jor and Sieren rose from the table. “Our men will meet you on the north side with your horses. We will stall the men as long as we can. When you get to Auvergny, send us a pigeon.”
“And Ben,” Sieren added. “Be careful!” Ben nodded. She and Jor hastened out of the room. Charleton and Naeren stayed behind to hug them goodbye and then scurried hurriedly after their parents.
Ben turned to address the others. “Grab your things, quickly, and meet me in Chalice’ bedchamber.”
They all rose from the table and rushed out of the room. Chalice staggered to her room as she tried to concentrate on the game that she played with Jeremiah as a child. She could barely make it to the door. Before she knew it, he was there at her side with his bag over his shoulder, helping her into the room. In a matter of minutes, they were all in the room with their bags, waiting for Ben. He ran in, holding a lantern and made for the candelabra on the wall, the one, Chalice knew, that would open the doorway to the secret passage. He jerked it to the right and the door sprang open. Kirna and Tycho gasped in surprise.
Ben lit the lamp. “Follow me,” he said and they carefully descended the staircase behind him to the lower floor. Before they reached the study, Ben turned to the left and entered the bedchamber that Chalice had passed the night she had discovered the rooms. It resembled in every way the chamber above except for a wooden door on the right side of the canopied bed. He led them to the door and opened it. A long corridor stretched deeply into the darkness. There were cobwebs everywhere.
“This hasn’t been used in a while,” Ben said as he brushed the webs aside and entered. “It will lead us to the north side of the castle. That is what Jor meant.” They all struggled to keep up with him as he rushed down the corridor. Bunejab squeaked as he fell behind and Jeremiah picked him up with one arm, carrying him as they went.
“The north side? You mean, outside the castle wall?” he asked.
“Yes. You might recognize something like this, Jeremiah. I had your father dig one similar to it on your farm.”
“You did? I never knew that. We have definitely used it.”
“Yeah, just recently actually!” Chalice panted as she ran, trying to keep up. “I’m getting used to this, I think.”
“How is your head, Chalice?”
“Fine. The pain is gone.”
“Good. I thought it would be.”
“What was that, Ben?” she asked.
“I’ll explain later.”
They ceased talking. They were feeling the fatigue as the grey stone hallway seemed to stretch on forever. It took them a good half of an hour to reach the end. Chalice hoped that the Farahs had been able to distract the men long enough. She was sure they had. They seemed practiced at this sort of thing. Finally, they arrived at a staircase that led straight up to a trapdoor above them. They ascended and Ben fidgeted with the latch. It clicked and he pushed on it but the door would not budge.
“Here, let me try, Ben,” Jeremiah said, setting down the Chinuk and nudging by everyone to the door. He was strong and although he placed his whole weight against it, it still would not budge.
“Oh curse it!” Ben growled and banged on the door with his fist. Suddenly, they heard hoofbeats above and loud, swift scraping that continued for a few minutes. Then the door sprang open. William’s profile appeared as the sunlight shone down, blinding them.
“I’m sorry, Ben!” he exclaimed. “We were standing on the door. We didn’t know where it was. It was completely covered with dirt. You know, this passage has not been used since the last time you were here.”
“It’s alright, William. I understand,” Ben answered. “Here, lend us a hand, would you?”
William reached in and helped them out of the corridor into a small clearing. Four other stablemen were there, holding their horses steady. The huge grey wall that surrounded the castle lay just behind them. Ben thanked them and jumped onto his mount, placing Bunejab in the front. The others followed suit and they darted toward the trail that he had showed them on the map. The morning air smelled sweet and Chalice relished the breeze that blew her hair as they galloped along the road. She had been indoors for too long, she thought. Ben drove his steed fiercely, determined to put as much distance between them and the King’s men as he could. There were sections of the trail that were not blazed well, which slowed them at first but after a few hours, they could hear the sound of swiftly rushing water and knew they were close to the river.
The horses shot out from the forest trail into a glade that ran the length of the Kedros. The bridge lay just ahead and as they approached, Chalice’ heart sank. She knew that there was no way they would be able to cross. What lay ahead of them was the oldest, most dilapidated bridge she had ever seen. Constructed of dark wood, it spanned the width of the river and was so frail, it appeared to sway with the wind. It was cracked and rickety and small gaps spanned the length of it where missing boards had crumbled and fallen away. The horses halted at the edge and Tycho spluttered.
“Yeah right, Ben! We’ll never be able to cross this!”
“Have a little faith, Tycho,” he said and paused, tilting his head. “Although, the bridge is a little worse than I thought it would be. Hmmm ...” He scratched his chin. “Let me cross first. I will make sure it stays sound.” And at that Ben clicked his mount into motion and proceeded over the bridge. The four of them were struck dumb when it not only supported the weight, but discontinued to sway in the wind the second the Appaloosa’s hooves touched the boards. Then, when the horse’s hoof touched thin air where a board was missing and did not fall through, Chalice knew that Ben was using his stone.
“He is stabilizing it for us. See?” she said, pointing. They watched Ben intently as he carefully made his way across. 
When he reached the far end, he shouted: “Alright, your turn now but only two at a time.”
Chalice looked at Kirna and Tycho. “Go.”
“Not without you, Chalice.”
“No Kirna, go!”
Kirna saw the stern expression on her best friend’s face and did not argue. Then she and Tycho heeled their mounts forward. Tycho was glancing anxiously on both sides of the bridge and swaying in his seat. Kirna had to grab his shoulder to steady him so that he wouldn’t fall.
“Don’t look down, Tycho! Just focus on Ben,” Chalice shouted. She knew he was not coordinated or balanced, especially if he was high above ground. This was why she had insisted that they go first. She wanted to make sure they arrived at the other side safely before she and Jeremiah crossed. Finally, after what seemed like hours, they reached the west end and Chalice clicked Sunny into motion. He stalled. He did not want to cross. She clicked him again, digging in a firm heel and he moved, reluctantly and slowly, dancing around the missing boards of the bridge. Chalice didn’t blame him. She had to admit that it was a bit unnatural walking on thin air. They had advanced a few paces when suddenly she felt a flame burn near her left cheek. A burst of fire had flared up next to her, just missing her head. She turned quickly and saw three black riders in the distance, just south of them, galloping along the river’s edge. A sound explosion erupted in her face and almost knocked her off her saddle. Jeremiah grabbed her and pulled her back into her seat.
“Get back!” Ben shouted in fear. “Get back! I can’t hold the bridge and shield you at the same time.”
At that, she and Jeremiah reined in their mounts and scrambled backwards toward the east end of the bridge. As soon as they were on the bank, the bridge collapsed in a tangle of splintered wood.
Ben continued to shout at them. “Follow the river toward Northbridge. I will shield you as long as I can. When you get to the first ferry, take it. We will be there. Go! Quickly!”
They nodded and immediately bolted northward. 
“But they can’t harm us from that distance,” Chalice shouted as the horses galloped at full speed. She knew the riders were too far away to reach them with arrows and she also knew that they could not use their power to hurt them.
“They can’t,” Jeremiah shouted back, “but they can use fire and other distractions to push us in the direction they want us to go. If they create a ball of fire or an invisible shield and we run into it ourselves, that is our fault. It is a strategy they use in fighting.”
“Did Ben teach you that last night?”
“Yeah.” He glanced back at her. She and Sunny were falling behind.
“Come on, Chalice. Keep up!”
“I’m trying!” she said, exasperated. “Sunny is not a thoroughbred, Jeremiah.”
“Just do the best you can!”
She tried to keep Sunny in line with Banner but she knew he could not hold a gallop that fast for long. After a while, he began to tire and slow, which caused the gap between her and the black riders to shorten. Jeremiah noticed and led them into the line of trees, which had grown closer to the river. He hoped the trees would provide a little protection and allow them to escape. He was wrong. The black riders gained and the attacks recommenced. Chalice was happy that Jeremiah was a safe distance ahead of her. He was free of the explosions and fire that erupted all around her as Sunny dodged left and right. After a few minutes the eruptions began to taper off. The moment she thought that they had lost them, her head hit an invisible barrier that she hadn’t sensed in front of her. She let out a cry of pain and found herself falling to the ground. Jeremiah heard and looked back, faltering. Chalice whole body jolted as she slammed into the hard soil below. Then the world went black and she knew no more.




Chapter 16
The Quaie’Miren

WHACK! “Where is he? If it is not you, then who is it?”
Chalice opened her eyes and could barely make out the scene in front of her. She was lying sideways in the dirt of a tiny forest clearing, her hands and feet bound in rope behind her. Pain racked her whole body, especially her head. It was early afternoon and the leaves in the thick tree branches above rustled with the wind, blocking out most of the light. She wondered how long she had been knocked out. A fire blazed in front of her, heating her face. On the other side of it, two large, dark-haired men in black mail, cloaks and black leather boots were towering over Jeremiah and beating him savagely. One of them held Jeremiah’s broken bow in his hand. Apparently, he had been using it to hit him. Jeremiah was on his knees, his hands and feet bound like hers. He was stripped of his clothes save his britches, which hung on him loosely. His face and torso were badly bruised and blood ran from his nose and mouth. Chalice couldn’t stand to see him like that. She cursed herself for not being able to escape the riders. It is my fault! I was too slow. She cursed herself again for being weak. If only I had listened to my Shaunta and practiced more, meditated more, she thought silently to herself. I could have sensed that barrier. I could have avoided it. She heard the voice of her teacher in her head. It will come to you only when you are ready. Now she realized that she would never be ready. It was over. They were captured.
“I told you, there is no man that I know who has that mark,” Jeremiah spluttered through a mouth full of blood.
“Liar! You will tell us, disgusting Naeon.” The man on the right kicked him hard in the stomach and Jeremiah doubled over. Then, all of the sudden, he seemed to straighten unnaturally, an invisible force holding him up. Chalice thought that it was fortunate that he was so muscular, otherwise that one kick would have broken several ribs. The man turned to the third black rider who had been busy shuffling through Chalice’ bags hanging from Sunny’s saddle. Sunny was tied to a tree and the whites of his eyes shone with fear. The third rider was holding the wooden box that Queen Svati had given her and was examining its contents. He was older than the other two, with touches of silver in his dark hair.
“Nerrick, give me that knife. This is not working,” said the man holding the broken bow. The man named Nerrick lifted the sharp obsidian dagger from the box and proffered it. The other man threw down the bow and grabbed it. Then he turned toward Jeremiah and held the dagger to his throat. Chalice panicked. No! They’re going to kill him!
“He is not lying,” she shouted angrily at him. He turned, glowering at her and pulled the dagger away from Jeremiah. Jeremiah fell to the ground in a heap. He was exhausted and broken.
“No! Chalice, no!” he screamed, spitting blood from his mouth.
“What does this pretty little thing have to say?” the man sneered in a patronizing tone as he swaggered toward her with an air of overconfidence. Convinced now, by Jeremiah’s protest, that she had the information he wanted, he asked: “Do you know who it is little one? Can you tell us? We will spare your friend if you do.” He was lying, she knew, but she didn’t care. He was very young and had dark brown hair and eyes. He was extraordinarily good-looking for someone so cruel. She hated him. She hated all of them. If only she were unbound, she would tear them apart. She felt herself being lifted from the ground by an invisible force and set on her knees in front of them, as Jeremiah had been.
“He is not lying to you.” She glared furiously into his dark eyes. “There is no man with that mark.”
“And why should we believe you?” he asked, lifting her chin with the tip of the dagger.
“Because I have it,” she replied and he froze, his face becoming ice, gaping at her in shock and disbelief. She cocked her head to her right. “On my right shoulder. Take a look if you want.” She didn’t care if they saw. She didn’t care if they knew. All she wanted was to divert their attention from Jeremiah.
“Chalice, no!” Jeremiah murmured again, weakly, unable to move.
With a worried expression, the man removed the dagger from her chin and slit the fabric of her dress, exposing her right shoulder. He stepped back in abject horror. The other two were behind him, gaping. 
“It can’t be,” he muttered to himself. “Is this a joke?”
“No, Rhaene. It’s not a joke,” Nerrick said, shaking his head. “That’s it. That’s the mark.”
“It is and you can choke on it, Draaquan,” she said defiantly, shooting them a freezing look. The rage had built up inside her and she was so angry, she didn’t even care if they killed her. If she was going to die, she wasn’t going to die a coward.
Provoked by her words, unable to accept what he was seeing before him, Rhaene unsheathed a large sword from the scabbard on his belt. The sound of metal on metal rang out, shrill and piercing. It was a huge scimitar with a filagreed hilt of fine gold and silver. In a flash, he slashed the blade across her shoulder. She felt the sharp pain of cold metal sear through her flesh and a warm trickle of blood down her arm. Then he raised the sword just above her neck and in a swift movement, brought it slicing down through the air.
This is it, she thought and closed her eyes. I’m going to die. She could hear Jeremiah struggling on the ground, muttering something incoherently.
“No, Rhaene! No, we cannot kill her. The oaths. The Fierain is still unsure.” Chalice opened her eyes and saw the other man, who resembled Rhaene and who had been silent the whole time. He was gripping Rhaene’s arm tightly with both hands, holding it in frozen motion. The blade of the scimitar was a finger’s width away from her throat.
Rhaene’s face shone with fury. “Jaden, do you realize how angry he will be about this?! Do you want to be the one to tell him?!”
Nerrick interjected: “Rhaene, our orders were to deliver the child alive. We will turn her over to Vlaad. He will know what to do. He is the only one who really knows how to deal with the Fierain.”
“Let’s at least cut her tongue out. That will teach her some respect,” Rhaene said as his lip curled in a snarl.
“No,” Nerrick replied. “She may have information we need. Vlaad will want to torture it out of her before he kills her.”
“I thought we had to bring her alive.”
“We have to deliver her alive to Vlaad. Those are our orders. Knowing him, after he gets what he needs from her, she won’t be alive for very long,” he responded sharply and glanced down at Chalice in disgust. “He will find a way to dispose of her. I’m certain of it,” he added disdainfully and then raised his knee above her wounded shoulder and brought his foot down on it as hard as he could, knocking her to the ground. She did not cry out. She did not squirm. She refused to show them that she was in pain. She would not give them the satisfaction.
“Where did you get that?” the man named Jaden asked Rhaene.
“Get what?”
“Vlaad’s sword.”
“Jez. She asked me to take it to him. She treated it with toxins.”
Nerrick looked sternly at Rhaene. “Jez? You mean, Jezebelle. You are too familiar with her, Rhaene. Be careful. Don’t get to close to Vlaad’s mistress. She is dangerous.”
“I’m not worried,” he replied smugly as he re-sheathed the sword.
“You should be. I’ve seen this happen before. There is a reason why we call her the Black Widow.”
Rhaene’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
But the reason why, Chalice never found out. Ululating cries pierced the forest silence and, out of nowhere, a cloud of deadly arrows rained down upon the men, drilling through their mail and driving into their flesh. Rhaene stumbled and dropped the dagger. He had been stuck with several arrows that were protruding from his shoulders, chest and legs. He staggered clumsily toward his mount. The others had been injured as well but not as badly. They too were hobbling toward their horses to escape. They could not see who or where their attackers were. Chalice immediately rolled over to reach Jeremiah. She covered his broken body with her own in order to shield him from the falling weapons. Many of the arrows, she saw, bounced off an invisible wall and fell into the trees. The more that rained down, the weaker the wall became until it was no longer deflecting arrows. By that time, however, the Draaquans were gone.
Chalice just lay there, shaking, her body draped over Jeremiah, protecting him from whatever this new threat was. Then she heard what sounded like hundreds of soft footsteps and felt something cold cut her bonds. A strong hand turned her over onto her back and she looked up. She saw two large, beautiful blue-green eyes, tanned skin, and long blond hair.
“Hi!” the woman said, leaning over her and smiling. “I’m Ardenne.” She had a strange accent that Chalice couldn’t place. She was young, tall and strong and wore the strangest clothing she had ever seen. It was silver, thick and leathery but scaled, like fish skin, and it was form-fitting, covering her whole body. Her feet were protected by soft crocodile boots and she wore gold rings on her fingers and ears. A large leather sack was strapped to her back next to her quiver and she held a large bow in her left hand. Her bow was made of a hard, white material that was carved with lines that spiraled down the length of it. There were two blond men who resembled her, standing just behind, in similar, but looser fitting, clothing. All around her, people of the same ilk were running around the camp, scanning the surrounding country, and scouting for the missing Draaquans.
Chalice was speechless. This was the last thing she expected. She opened her mouth to introduce herself but nothing came out. Then the woman smiled again and said softly: “Are you alright?” Letting out a deep breath, she said: “We found you just in time. We almost didn’t.”
Chalice nodded. “My friend ... my friend is badly hurt. He needs help,” she stuttered as she attempted to sit up. She fell back and groaned. Every muscle in her body was sore. Ardenne bent to one knee and lifted her into a sitting position. 
“You are hurt, too, I see,” she said motioning to her shoulder. Ardenne removed the bag from her back and took out a cloth and a water skin. The water skin appeared to made of the same material as her clothing. Then she began to clean the wound. Chalice tried not to wince as the woman wiped the cloth over the cut. 
The two men behind Ardenne strode over to Jeremiah and cut his bonds, gently laying him flat on the ground. Then they immediately set to work, treating him with water, salves and cloths that they had pulled from their strapped leather bags. Chalice looked at them uneasily.
“Don’t worry, Chalice. They are my twin brothers, Aeron and Aden. They will be very careful with him,” Ardenne reassured her and Chalice stared at her in confusion. 
How does she know my name? Chalice wondered. “Who are you?” she asked curiously.
“We call ourselves the Quaie’Miren.” 
The Quaie’Miren? The Lost Ones! Chalice’ jaw dropped in disbelief. Ardenne pointed to her mark. 
“What is this?”
“My birthmark.”
“That’s a birthmark?”
Chalice wiped the dirt from her face with her left hand and said sadly: “Yeah.” At this point, she didn’t really consider it her lucky charm anymore.
“This cut is sliced straight through it. You see? Right here.” Chalice glanced down and noticed that after the blood had been removed, the cut was sharp and almost perfectly horizontal, connecting the ends of the two upper lines of her birthmark. “We have been looking for you all day,” Ardenne continued. 
“Why? How?” Chalice couldn’t find the right question. She was so confused and so shocked at meeting these people that she had only ever heard of in stories. They acted as if she should have been expecting them and yet she didn’t even know them. “What is going on?”
“You called us.”
“Huh? How? I don’t know what you mean. How could I have called you? I don’t even know you.”
Ardenne froze for a moment and studied Chalice with a puzzled expression. Then she suddenly grinned and shook her head slightly. “He was right! For once, he was actually right! I don’t believe it!” she exclaimed in amazement. “He said that you wouldn’t know what you did.”
“Uh, who? What did I do?” Chalice was completely lost. Did I miss something here? she thought to herself.
“Our Prophet. I will explain everything but first we need to get you two treated and brought to our camp. There you can rest and have something hot to eat and drink. Kirna will be anxious to see you.”
“Kirna?! You mean my best friend Kirna?” Chalice asked and Ardenne nodded. “You know her?”
“We found your friends just before we found you. They have been worried sick,” Ardenne said and Chalice breathed a sigh of relief. Thank the heavens!
“Denni,” her brother said softly and Ardenne turned her head.
“What’s up, Aeron?” She looked around. “Where’s Aden?”
“He went to get a couple of tree branches. Hey ...” He motioned toward Jeremiah and said in a whisper, so that Chalice couldn’t hear: “Her young man here, he’s in pretty bad shape. He’s got some broken bones. Something else is wrong as well but we’re not sure what it is. We will need to carry him. Do we have enough shagreen to make a stretcher?” 
Aeron, of course, was unaware of Chalice’ sharp hearing. Hold on, Jeremiah! Hold on until we find Ben, she thought. She could feel the tears swelling in her eyes and she fought them off furiously. Ardenne looked at her pityingly.
“I think Lexi does. He’s over there,” she answered her brother. She pointed to a lanky man with light ginger hair who was crouching on the ground, examining the obsidian dagger that Rhaene had dropped.
“Whatcha got there, Lexi?” Aeron asked him.
“An obsidian dagger. Strange. Ardenne, did you drop a dagger?” He placed his finger along the edge and immediately withdrew it, a drop of blood forming at the tip.
“No, I’ve got my knife right here. I don’t have a dagger.” She placed her hand on her leather belt where her knife and sheath were attached.
“That’s mine,” Chalice said. “Please, I need it.”
He looked up at Chalice. “Man, this thing is razor sharp,” he said as he sucked his finger. “Where did you get this?”
“A friend,” she answered. She decided to keep the information to herself for now. She didn’t know these people and didn’t want to tell them too much.
“Do you have a sheath for it?” he asked.
“It goes in a dark wooden box. It should be over near my horse, just there. It may be on the dirt somewhere.” She gestured toward Sunny and the man scanned the ground.
“I see nothing.”
“Try my bags.”
He reached over and stroked Sunny on the neck to calm him. Then he shuffled around her bags for the box. “Nope, not here.”
She let out a loud sigh of dismay. “They took it!”
“This box, it was important?” Ardenne asked and Chalice nodded.
“Yes.”
“I have a sheath for this if you want,” Lexi said to Chalice, holding up the dagger.
“Thank you! That would be really great.” She smiled weakly. She was trying not to show her regret at losing the box and the stone inside of it.
Lexi nodded and unbuckled an empty leather sheath from his belt, placing the dagger inside. Then he tied two leathers straps together, that hung loosely over the hilt, to hold it in position. Just then, Aden returned with two branches that he began to strip with a carving knife. Aeron laid out a long square of tough fabric along the ground and stretched it taut, placing stones in the corners. Within minutes, Ardenne’s brothers had a makeshift stretcher upon which they gently laid Jeremiah, covering him with a small blanket.
“This wound does not want to stop bleeding,” Ardenne said as she patted Chalice’ shoulder with a cloth. Each time, the cloth came away covered in crimson. She frowned at Chalice shoulder and pulled an ointment from her bag. It stung when she applied it and Chalice grimaced. 
“I’m sorry but it’s necessary. This is the only thing that will block the flow of blood until it congeals on its own.” She was right. The blood flow stopped and she wrapped the shoulder with a bandage.
At this point, many of the others had returned to the clearing. Two of them were untying the horses and leading them over, while another doused the fire.
“They are gone. We can’t locate them,” one of men said to Ardenne.
“Damn!” She scowled. “I was hoping to take them out. When we get back to camp, we will need to leave for the ship immediately. They will be back soon with more men.”
“I don’t think there’s any way they could have survived that. They were riddled with arrows,” Chalice said.
The man looked down at her. “That?” he said, pointing in the direction of the riders. “That was nothing to them. They can heal themselves quickly and be ready to return within minutes. When Draaquans are in groups of three or more, they are very hard to kill.”
Ardenne looked softly at Chalice. “Can you ride?”
“Of course!” she said. She was still in pain and felt a little unsteady but it wasn’t going to keep her from riding on her own. Ardenne helped her up and she took Sunny’s reins, wincing as she mounted. Lexi placed the newly sheathed dagger into her saddlebag.
“Here you go,” he said. “Just untie the straps when you want to use it.”
“Okay, thanks so much!” Chalice replied.
“Follow us. Try and keep up, alright?” Ardenne said.
“Sure.” Chalice frowned at that. She was surprised. They were on foot. She wondered how they could possibly outrun her on Sunny, but soon she found out. As they set off, she was astonished at how fast they could move. Even the two who carried Jeremiah were in line with her the whole way, keeping him perfectly steady. They were amazingly graceful on foot. They traveled for a half of an hour and when they finally exited the thicket of trees, she could see their camp that was spread out in a small glade. The Kedros roared in the distance. Dozens of tents dotted the clearing in a circle and woodsmoke drifted from the center. Kirna was crouching near a huge fire, stirring a pot with a wooden spoon. She glanced up and saw Chalice. Dropping the spoon into the pot, she ran as fast as she could. Tycho followed behind.
“Chalice! We have been looking for you all day! We feared the worst.” Kirna glanced down at the stretcher and placed her hand over her mouth in shock.
“Is he going to be alright?” Tycho asked.
“I hope so. He was beaten pretty badly.” Chalice surveyed the site anxiously, screwing up her eyes. “Where are Ben and Bunejab?”
“They’re still gone. They set out in the opposite direction with another party of Quaie’Miren. They should be back soon.”
Tycho pointed to her shoulder. “What happened to you?”
“It’s a long story.” She looked tiredly at her best friends. “It’s been a nightmare!”
“I can imagine!” Kirna said. “Here, come over near the fire. We’ve got some food ready.” 
Chalice dismounted carefully and one of the men took Sunny from her as she strode over to the center of camp with them. She took a seat slowly on a rock, wincing. She watched Ardenne’s brothers attentively as they carried Jeremiah into one of the tents. Kirna spooned soup into a wooden bowl for her. It was hot with spiced vegetables and smelled fishy. She took a couple bites and then set it down in her lap. It was delicious but she didn’t have much of an appetite. She was too worried. They listened to her keenly as she told them of her experience since she had parted with them at the river.
“You shouted at them?” Kirna’s eyes were wide.
“I had to do something,” Chalice said as she took another small bite of soup. “They were going to kill him with my dagger. All I could think of was keeping their attention on me.”
“So they know now?” Tycho asked.
“Yes.” She nodded regretfully. “They were so angry about it, they sliced my shoulder. They also took the box.”
“The box you got from the Chinuka?”
“Yeah, but I still have the dagger. He dropped it when the Quaie’Miren attacked. His name was Rhaene.” Her face darkened. “I will remember him.”
“You’re lucky they didn’t take your life as well, Chalice,” Kirna said.
Tycho spluttered in disgust: “Yeah, no kidding. These guys are vicious!”
Kirna scowled. “They’re more than that. They’re monsters.”
Chalice looked up from her bowl at Ardenne. She had just walked up to address them.
“We’re leaving as soon as the other party gets back. I have instructed the men to begin packing. My father’s ship is waiting for us.”
“Ardenne ...” Chalice began.
“Don’t worry, Chalice,” Ardenne interrupted, as she knew exactly what she was going to say. “I will have Master Graeystone take a look at him before we leave.” 
“Are you the leader of the Quaie’Miren?” she asked.
“No, not yet,” Ardenne said and smiled. “I am the leader of the group that was sent to find you. My father ordered me and my brothers to lead the operation.”
“Who is your father?”
“The Prophet.”
“You have a prophecy too? It seems like everyone has one these days!” Tycho said sarcastically.
Ardenne smiled and shook her head. “No, not a prophecy, just a prophet. The Prophet leads the Quaie’Miren. We are always lead by one. When the Prophet dies, another assumes the role.”
“Hmmm, I didn’t know that.” Is it safe to go with them? Chalice wondered to herself silently. After all, she really didn’t know them but given that they had just risked their lives to save her and Jeremiah, she assumed that they could be trusted. Also given their circumstance, it appeared that they had no other option. She would ask Ben what he thought when he returned. She squinted when she saw a figure of a silver horse in the distance. It was Ben’s appaloosa. She stood bolt upright, spilling her soup, and ran toward him, ignoring her muscles that screamed in protest. When he spotted her, he spurred his horse into a gallop. As they approached, she could see Bunejab bouncing on the saddle in front. She shouted for them to hurry.
“Jeremiah is hurt!” she cried out loudly and ran toward the tent. “This way!”
When they reached it, they dismounted and Ben handed his horse’s reins to Ardenne’s brother, Aden. As soon as he entered, Chalice heard him let out an angry oath and saw him bend on his knees toward Jeremiah, who was still on the stretcher. Placing his palm over Jeremiah’s forehead, he closed his eyes and his stone glowed a soft grey. After a minute, he said: “This is bad. He has internal injuries as well as fractured bones. If I had gotten here any later, there would have been nothing I could do.” He looked up at everyone in the tent.
“Can I ask you all to leave, please?” he said politely. “Except for Bunejab,” he added.
Chalice was indignant. She felt that she had a right to be there and did not want to leave. “What are you going to do?” she asked pointedly.
Ben looked at her calmly. “I’m going to heal his internal injuries first. The bones will have to be healed later.”
“Why?”
“Because the Naeon body can only handle so much healing at a time. It needs to recuperate and it is an exhausting process for the patient because it requires energy from the body. If I heal all of his injuries at once, he will die. If he was Terravailian, and had access to the avie through his stone, it would be different.”
“Master Graeystone, we don’t have time,” Ardenne broke in. “We are already preparing to leave for the ship.”
“Why?”
“We were not able to kill the three riders. They escaped.”
He nodded. “That is a problem.” Frowning, he said: “Alright, we will do what is necessary for right now and finish the healing later, on the ship. We’ll work as quickly as we can.”
“Why do we need to leave the tent?” Chalice asked stubbornly.
“He has injuries all over his body, Chalice. We will need to undress him. Bunejab needs to stay because he has medicine for the cuts and bruises.”
She blushed and said: “Oh, I’m sorry, alright.” Then she turned to leave. “Ben ...” she added.
“Yes?”
“Be careful.”
He nodded. “Of course,” he said reassuringly and they all left the tent.
Chalice paced nervously outside the entrance as the others finished packing up camp. Kirna and Tycho helped douse the fire and load the Quaie’Miren’ bags with supplies. They were placing the last of their belongings into their saddlebags when Ben came out with Bunejab on his heels. Chalice rushed over to him with an anxious question on her face.
“He will be fine but it will take a while for his body to heal. We have him wrapped in blankets for now. He will have to stay on the stretcher until we reach the ship.”
“Is it safe, Ben?” she whispered. “I mean, to go with them?”
“I don’t know but we don’t really seem to have any other choice at the moment. Without them, we’re not going to be able to get very far given Jeremiah’s condition and I’m not going to leave him behind,” he answered her quietly. “Besides which, they have already helped us quite a bit.”
“But why? Why are they going to this much trouble to help us?”
“I guess we’ll find out.” He shrugged and walked over to Aden for his mount.
She gestured to Aeron and Aden, who gently carried Jeremiah out of the tent. She watched him as he just lay there, motionless, with his eyes closed, draped in blankets. Soon the Quaie’Miren men had the tent packed and were ready to go. Those with horses mounted and a loud whistle from Ardenne announced their departure. Then they all set off for the Kedros and the Quaie’Miren ship.




Chapter 17
The Morning Dawn

The Morning Dawn was the most beautiful ship that Chalice had ever seen. It was anchored and moored to a large pier that stretched deep into the Kedros and it swayed gently with the motion of the water. It was huge, with a thick keel that stretched from the bow to the stern, made for slicing quickly through water. She didn’t know what it was exactly. It wasn’t a frigate or a brigantine. It wasn’t exactly a galleon either, but it was definitely a multi-decked, sailing warship and its color matched that of the sky as it was lit by the sun at dawn. It had a white outline and a polished white wooden rail. Rigging lines stretched from the rail to the three masts that supported white, furled sails. Watertight ports, scuttles and covered oarholes dotted the hull and a white carving of a sea creature decorated the bowsprit. The creature was long, sleek, and powerful, with its strong jaws savagely baring sharp teeth in a rictal snarl. It appeared to be leaping out of the water and striking whatever poor, unfortunate soul that happened to cross in front of the ship.
The sun was setting and light shone softly from the east, illuminating the world on one side. Two of the ship’s afterguard lowered a plank from a large hatch in the hull while the Quaie’Miren men secured it on the quay. Chalice watched as Ardenne’s brothers carefully ascended first, with Jeremiah on the stretcher. Then she dismounted.
“They will take him to one of the cabins on the stern deck,” Ardenne said. “You will have your own cabin there, too, close to mine. I will show you.”
“And our horses?”
“They will be taken below the main deck into the cargo hold. There are stalls there with water and hay. Don’t worry, it is a very secure place for them.” 
“Okay,” Chalice replied and then jumped suddenly when Ardenne let out a loud, high pitched whistle. Chalice noticed that she was good at that. 
“Irad! Jacob! Will you attend to our guests’ mounts please?” she shouted as two large, dark-haired men came running. 
Chalice glanced back at the others. Kirna and Tycho had been riding in the back of the party with Ben, in conversation the whole way from the campsite. Chalice, on the other hand, had chosen to stay in front with Ardenne and her brothers in order to keep an eye on Jeremiah. One of the men ran up to her, to offer assistance as the other approached Kirna. She undid the buckle on the strap of her saddle bags and threw them over her shoulder. Then she ascended the plank with Ardenne and Kirna.
“What kind of ship is this?” Chalice asked.
“She is a Quaie’Miren sea cruiser, capable of performing independent missions at great distances.”
“Do you usually travel far?”
“We travel all over. Originally, we set out from the northern sea to the Kedros for trade with villages in Culmanoq. Then we came here after my father gave us the search order.”
“So, is it a trading vessel or a warship?”
“Both. Our ships need to be able to travel long distances and be self-sustaining at the same time, capable of inflicting damage on a foe and making swift, clean getaways.” Chalice looked a question at her and Ardenne continued: “You see, we do not pay taxes and this is not our first encounter with the King’s men.”
“Oh ... right.” Chalice nodded. She believed it. No one in their right mind would attack the Draaquans if they weren’t absolutely certain they could get away quickly. “Where do you usually make port?” she asked curiously.
“Everywhere and nowhere.” Ardenne smiled and, seeing the question on Chalice’ face, added: “We live on the sea. When we make port to trade, we usually do it where there are no royal customs houses, mostly in the east.”
“Oh!” she said, surprised.
Kirna pointed to the bowsprit. “What is that? Is that a real animal? It looks frightening!”
“It is. That is a sculpture of a requin that my brother carved for the ship.”
“What are Requin?”
“They are water predators. Every creature of the sea fears them. The last part of the initiation into the Silver Mariners is to come face-to-face in the water with a requin and defeat it. We take the dead creature on board, skin it for the shagreen, which becomes the initiate’s fighting attire, and then proceed to clean and gut it for the celebration that comes afterwards. It makes for good eating. We use every part of it. At sea, we waste nothing. We can’t afford to.”
“What are Silver Mariners?” Kirna asked.
“We are a special group of the Quaie’Miren who are trained to become fighters, both on land and on sea to protect our people from those who would do us harm. My father sent us to find you.” She paused for a moment as they reached the hull of the ship and a tall man offered his hand to help Ardenne onboard. He had raven-black hair and oddly dark blue eyes, almost the color of the northern sea after a storm.
Ardenne smiled warmly and took his hand. Glancing back at the girls, she said: “I am pleased to introduce to you Darion Coquille, my shipmate and sea partner.” They had no clue what that meant, but all the same, they both nodded a greeting at him, which he returned in kind.
“Pleased to meet you!” Chalice said politely. “Are you the captain?”
“Of this ship?!” He laughed and shook his head. “No, I am the quartermaster, actually.”
Ardenne peered into his eyes, and, putting her hand on his cheek, said: “No, he is not the captain of the ship. He is captain of my heart.” Then Chalice suddenly understood what she had meant by sea partner. The two stared at each other for a moment as a silent communication passed between them. It reminded Chalice of her and Jeremiah, when they spoke to each other silently. Then Ardenne turned to help Chalice and Kirna onboard. They could immediately feel the movement of the water underneath and knew they were no longer on solid ground. Ardenne continued: “Darion is a Silver Mariner too, like me and my brothers. He stayed behind with a few others in our group to protect the ship. The captain of this ship, actually, is my father, the Prophet, Samus Marin. My mother’s name is Winnivere. You will meet them shortly.” Just then Ben, Bunejab, and Tycho walked up and were helped onboard. Ardenne introduced them and Darion nodded.
“So these are the ones you were sent to retrieve?” he asked Ardenne.
“Yes, can you believe it? He was right this time! He was even right about her not knowing what she did,” she said, motioning toward Chalice.
“I don’t understand,” Chalice said. “What did I do?”
“You sent out a calling thought,” Darion answered.
“A calling thought?” Chalice asked as she looked at Ardenne.
“A mental signal of distress. You must have sent it unknowingly and my father felt it. He knew you were in this area nearby. So we docked and came to search for you. He also knew that finding you was very important for some reason but he didn’t know why.”
“How could I have done that and not known?”
“In the past,” Ben cut in, “some of the Terravail have been known to have that gift, Chalice. It is the gift of telepathy. This is a valuable lesson for you actually. You are beginning to learn your own abilities and that is the first step in your training.” 
“You are Terravailian?” Darion asked Chalice.
“Yes, well, sort of.” Seeing the curious expression on his face she said: “Half Terravailian, that is.”
He gave her a weighing look, furrowing his brows. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Eager to change the subject, Ben turned to Ardenne. “Ardenne, can you tell me where your brothers took Master Maehbeck, the young man on the stretcher?”
“I can do better. I can show you. Come, I will take you above board,” she said and he nodded. Then she turned to lead them through the passageway of the lower deck. It was narrow and the bulkheads were made of finely polished wood. It led to a ladder that they ascended to the main deck. The ship was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. The quarterdeck stood just a few paces higher from the main deck and the helm could be seen, its polished wood gleaming from the slanted rays of the eastern sunlight. Young men and women in modest attire whom Chalice took to be deck hands, scuffled this way and that, manning the decks and shouting directions to each other as they prepared the ship. A gentle breeze brushed Chalice’ hair into her face. She quickly tucked it back behind her ear. The combination of shouts, polished wood and ocean smell made her think of being out on the open sea with nothing but the water, the wind, and the stars as guides.
Suddenly, out of the din, a young, blond, boy seaman, who resembled Ardenne, ran up to them excitedly. “You’re back!” he exclaimed.
“Yes, I am.” She smiled down at him. “Lofty, can you do me a favor?” she asked and the boy nodded. “Make sure all guests and crew members are on board and the cargo secured, including the horses, before we weigh anchor and set sail. I’m making you sailing master for this evening.”
“Sure thing, Denni!” he said, knuckling his forehead, and ran off shouting for the boatswain and all hands on the main deck. He seemed very eager to help. 
“That is my little brother, Brennen.” She smiled and continued to lead them to the cabins on the stern deck. “He is the only one who can really go aloft when we are having problems with the rigging or the sails, or if we need someone in the crow’s nest to see far distances with an eyeglass. That is why we call him Lofty. He loves sailing,” she said with a smile. “Ah, here we are.” They had ascended the stern deck that stretched out in front of a row of cabins. Motioning in the direction of each cabin, she said: “Master Graeystone, Master Maehbeck is in here. Your cabin is there and the others are down this way.” Ardenne nodded to him and continued to walk down the deck. 
Chalice, Kirna and Tycho followed her as Ben and Bunejab entered Jeremiah’s quarters. Are they going to finish healing him then? Chalice wondered silently to herself. Ben seemed to read her mind because he turned before shutting the door and said: “Chalice, Bunejab and I are going to take care of the rest of Jeremiah’s injuries but we will be along soon to see to your shoulder.” She looked a question at him and he pointed to her shoulder. “Your bandage is soaked in blood.”
She looked down, and to her astonishment, found that he was right. The bandage that Ardenne had made for her was completely red. She hadn’t even noticed. She jostled her arm forward and back and felt a sting of pain. She found that the bandage was wet and sticky. Ugh, yuck! she thought. She nodded and Ben shut the door as they continued to follow Ardenne to their quarters.
They arrived at Chalice’ cabin first. Ardenne opened the door and motioned for Chalice to enter. “Here you are. There should be a lantern hanging near the bedside table and a washroom to your right. You may want to light the lamp first as it is very dark within the cabins, especially at night, and the sun has already begun setting for this evening. If you are up for it, my family would like to invite you all to dinner tonight.”
“That would be wonderful!” Chalice said, her stomach rumbling.
“Great! After you are finished washing up, we will meet you just below on the quarterdeck. Right there.” Ardenne pointed to the deck just below them, where the helm stood.
Chalice nodded. “Alright. Thank you,” she said and shut the door behind her. Ardenne was right. It was very dark in the cabin. She strode over to the table and lit the lantern. Light flooded the room and she could see how small the cabin actually was. The biggest piece of furniture in the room was the bed, which was fairly large. It consisted of a feather mattress, covered in soft fur blankets and tucked into a large, polished wooden bed frame and headboard. A wooden chest lay at the foot of the bed where she placed her bags. The bulkheads were darkly polished wood, decorated with paintings of islands and sea creatures that she had never seen in her life. Some of the creatures were very small and others were so large, they looked as if they could swallow a whole ship. She made a mental note to ask Ardenne about them. She wondered if the islands and the creatures really existed like the creature carved on the front of the ship.
All the sudden, she heard a loud whistle, which drowned the noise from outside, and then felt the ship lurch powerfully underneath her feet. She fell back onto the chest and was pinned against the wooden frame of the bed. She realized that the ship had set sail and she could feel the swift motion of the massive vessel underneath her. Everything in the room seemed to shift in the same direction. It was no surprise to her why the Quaie’Miren were so eager to return to the river. This was a fast ship!
After the acceleration of the ship had eased, she sighed, slid off her boots, and massaged her feet. It felt good to sit down and finally remove her dress. It was dirty, sweaty and torn all over. She unbuttoned her riding habit and peeled it off. This is ruined, she thought, tossing it into the corner of the room with her right hand. She winced slightly as a small pang shot down her arm from her sore shoulder. Standing there in her silk shift, she shivered. It was cold. So she proceeded to the washroom, where she found a large, lidded bowl of hot water, a wash towel and soap. There was also a brush and soda water for her teeth. Then she set to work, brushing and cleaning, digging out all the grit and grime off her skin and out of her hair. It was an arduous task as she was finding it hard to move. The adrenaline rush she had felt from the events of the day was wearing off and real pain was starting to set in. After she was done, she heard a knock. Re-entering the bed chamber, she pulled a soft blanket from the bed and wrapped herself in it. Then she opened the door. It was Ben and Bunejab.
“Oh, it’s you. Come on in.” She let them in and shut the door. She noticed that Bunejab was rubbing the back of his head. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“When the ship set off, he fell off the bed and hit the wall,” Ben said.
“Oh, I’m sorry! You alright?” she asked, looking down at the Chinuk, and he nodded. Then she glanced up at Ben. “How is he? Can I see him?” Ben knew who she meant.
“He is fine. It is best if we let him rest. Maybe we can stop in and see him after dinner.”
“Okay,” she said. Bunejab chittered something at her in rapid Chinukan and she looked at Ben.
“He wants you to have a seat so he can take a look at your shoulder.”
“Oh, alright,” she said and sat down on the bed. Bunejab jumped up beside her with his bag. He proceeded to unwrap Ardenne’s bandage until it was completely removed. She felt hot liquid drip down her arm and he placed a dampened cloth over the wound to keep it from flowing. It stung badly. Chalice winced as Ben hissed loudly. She looked down and saw that her cut was angry, red, and full of puss and was still bleeding profusely.
“There is something wrong with your wound, Chalice,” Ben said as he moved toward her and, without asking, placed his right hand on her forehead. She closed her eyes and felt a warm sensation rush down her neck, into her shoulder. Ben stepped back and shook his head. “I don’t know what it is. Your body is trying to heal itself but something is blocking it.” Then Chalice suddenly remembered what Rhaene had said about the sword that he had used to cut her shoulder. Jez ... she treated it with toxins.
“Ben, I forgot to tell you something,” she said. Then she told him who Jezebelle really was and what she had done to the sword. Ben nodded in understanding.
“I see. Alright, I can try to heal it if you want but it might not work and I am not a skilled herbalist like Bunejab. He may have something better for it. He has medicine that can act as antidotes to certain poisons.” She looked up at him and he shrugged. “It’s up to you,” he said.
She thought about the little Chinuk and how he had healed her before. Although she was sure of Ben’s ability and trusted him, she said: “I’ll let Bunejab do it.” Then Bunejab smiled proudly and set to work, cleaning, treating, and bandaging her shoulder. He managed to spread a salve over it that stopped the bleeding and soothed the sore redness. After he was done, it felt much better.
“Will I be able to wear my dress over it?” she asked and Bunejab nodded. Ben looked at her and she said: “We are dining with Ardenne’s family tonight. We’re supposed to meet her on the quarterdeck.” He nodded. Then Bunejab handed her a small packet and said something.
“They are herbs,” Ben siad. “He wants you to put them in your drink tonight. They are painkillers.”
“Oh, alright.” She reached up and placed her hand on Bunejab’s head. “Thanks, Bunejab!” she said and he smiled. His ears twitched and his nose flushed with a rosy color.
“So, I guess we will see you on the quarterdeck,” Ben said as Bunejab finished placing the last item into his sack and jumped off the bed. Chalice nodded and they left. She pulled out of her bag a fresh white slip and a rose-colored evening gown that Sieren had given her and slipped them on. Then she grabbed the lantern from its hook and left the room. The night was cool and the fierce wind from the speed of the ship brought a chill. She wished she had taken her cloak with her as she walked down the planks. The evening was also surprisingly calm compared to the noise on the deck when they had set sail. The only sound came from the wind and the splashes of water as the ship moved through it. Those present on deck were the night watchmen and Kirna and Tycho who were already waiting. As she walked, light from her lantern flooded the deck, revealing all the rigging and gear necessary to sail a ship. It seemed so complicated to her. She hoped that one day she would learn how it was done. The thought of sailing the sea intrigued her. As she approached, Chalice thought that her best friend looked beautiful in a brilliantly green evening gown that she, too, had gotten from Sieren. Kirna smiled at her.
“Your shoulder looks much better. Did Ben heal you?”
“No, there is something wrong with the wound. It has to do with the sword that cut me. It was poisoned. Bunejab seems to think he can heal it, though, so I let him bandage it for me,” Chalice said, looking down at her shoulder. When she looked up, she noticed a curious expression on Tycho’s face and asked: “What’s up, Tyke?”
“I’m just wondering about this Prophet we are going meet. Ardenne and her brothers keep talking about how he was right for once. I mean, about finding us.”
“Yeah? So?”
“Well,” Tycho said, frowning, “if this is the first time he has ever been correct about something, then how can he be called a prophet? A prophet who can’t predict the future? That’s kind of a contradiction, isn’t it?” he asked, smirking. Kirna scowled at him. “Well it is!” he snapped.
“Given that they just saved us, Tycho,” Kirna retorted, “it’s probably a good idea to watch what you say about them on their ship!” Then she popped him on top of the head and he winced.
“He is right,” a soft, female voice suddenly said behind them. They all jumped and turned to see Ardenne. Apparently she had been there for some time. Damn! She is stealthy! Chalice thought as not even her acute hearing had sensed her walk up behind them. She noticed that Ardenne had taken off her fighting attire and had changed into a beautiful ocean blue gown that was laced with pearls along the back. “My father is rarely correct when he makes assertions. That is why we were so surprised to find you. He is supposed to be our Prophet who reveals information to us that he sees through his gift but so far, he has only been right once.” She smiled, not mockingly but more lovingly ... or was it pityingly? Chalice couldn’t tell but it was obvious that Ardenne loved her father despite his failings.
“And yet you still honor him as a prophet?” Tycho asked.
“I understand your point, Master Bendeban, and yes, we do. We have to. Our culture, our beliefs, and our ways, these things are all that we have. You see, we cannot settle within the Realm. We have never been able to because we are so different. We don’t fit in and we don’t own land within the Realm, not even under the old King, which is one reason why we refuse to pay taxes. Also, we do not have the gifts of the Terravail or the talents of the Naeon and do not have your longevity either. Our lives are much shorter and fleeting compared to yours. We need our customs and traditions to survive. It is the core of our existence. Without them, we would not know what to do.” Tycho held his head low in shame for having asked the question. Chalice had never realized how they were treated by the other races. She had never known. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live their life. Ardenne continued: “We have always been outcasts since the Haeliad because of the way we are. That is why we are called the Lost Ones by some.” She nodded, seeing the surprised expression on Chalice’ face and said: “Yes, we know what you call us. It does not offend me. And the Haeliad is also a day that we celebrate as well. We honor it because it brought us back to the ocean and islands that we love. A beauty that can never be replaced with anything made from humankind.”
“The islands?! The Maaldanese islands?!” Tycho asked in alarm.
“No, do not worry. We are not Maaldanese. Not anywhere close. There are islands that no one in the Realm or in Maalda know of. We call them the Karahali after our first Prophet who discovered them. That was her name.”
“Her name? I thought the prophets were all men,” Chalice asked in surprise.
“No, whoever has the gift, whether male or female, is the one who assumes the position when the Prophet passes. It is usually the son or daughter.”
“And in your case, who will take your father’s place?”
“My brothers say that it will be me. I seem to possess the same talent that my father has, only more strongly ... and I should hope so.” She smiled and winked. Chalice smiled back and Ardenne continued: “You see, no one knew where to find you when we set out but I used my ability and we found you just in time.” She paused and her brows furrowed. “Although, it was odd. All morning, I couldn’t feel anything and then all of the sudden you were there, as bright as day, in my mind. At that moment, we turned northward and found you.”
“That’s interesting!” Chalice said. “I had just woken up. That morning, I had taken a pretty bad fall off my horse and was knocked out. I think the Draaquans had taken us north intending to deliver us to Dar’Maalda by boat. Then I woke up when they were ...” She paused, not wanting to think about what happened to Jeremiah. “Well, right before you came, that is. It seems you really do have the gift.”
Ardenne nodded. “Yes.” She smiled. “It is hard to believe given my father’s track record.” Then Ardenne glanced toward the ladder of the stern deck. “Ah, here they are.” Ben and Bunejab were approaching. “Shall we proceed?” She pointed to the cabins below the stern deck, underneath the ladder they had just descended. “This is where we will be having dinner. My parents’ quarters are there.” They followed her down the planks toward the aft of the quarterdeck, where they stood facing the captain’s cabin. “This is what we call the ‘Bridge.’ It is the cabin from which the ship is commanded. It is also my parents’ dining quarters. Their sleeping quarters lay to the right of the Bridge, just there.” She pointed to her immediate right where the lamplight revealed a wooden door. Then she moved her hand back and grabbed the latch of the bridge, opening it. A rush of warm air blew at them and they saw five figures, in elegant clothing, seated at a large table next to the rear window of the ship, toward the back of the room. They stood as Ardenne entered with their guests. Chalice already knew three of them. Two had carried Jeremiah to the ship. The inside of the bridge looked much like the cabins above, although larger and much more ornately decorated, with many various paintings of the same sea creatures that Chalice had seen in her cabin. There was also a model of a large fish with a long, flattened, swordlike snout, attached to a board on the wall. She examined it as they entered.
“Ah, they are here!” Aeron said. “Mother, this is Chalice Pandretti ...” Aeron proceeded to make the introductions as they were welcomed to the table and given drinks. The woman at the table was tall and beautiful and looked just like Ardenne, but more mature, with small lines of age on her face. The other four were men: Ardenne’s brothers, Darion, and an older man who was short and round, with chestnut hair and brown eyes.
“I am so pleased that we found you!” the Prophet said to them. He was a soft-spoken man with kind eyes, Chalice thought, but there was something odd about one of them. His right eye was lazy and seemed to drift down toward his nose, giving him a distinctly cross-eyed look. Chalice knew immediately that Tycho had noticed, too, as he was holding his hand over his forehead, scratching his brow, peering down into his lap as if in concentration. He was trying to keep a straight face while pretending to be thinking about something. Kirna, Chalice knew, was giving him a reproachful kick in the leg under the table. The Prophet, completely oblivious to all of this, continued to address them: “I am looking forward to hearing about your journey here but for now, you must be famished.” He turned to his wife. “Winni, did Lofty tell the cooks to make enough for eleven?”
“Yes, of course, Sam. That is what I was telling him a half an hour ago, before he left. Were you not listening?”
“Oh, I’m sorry! My mind must have been on something else,” he said and she smiled as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Just then the door opened and four cabin boys entered, bringing in with them trays of food and the savory scent of bouillabaisse, freshly grilled fish in lemon butter, fresh vegetables, and bread. They set the trays on kickstands that they had carried with them in the crook of their elbows and proceeded to serve the meal to each person individually. Everything looked wonderful. Chalice immediately placed the packet of herbs that Bunejab had given her into her cup of hot water and nursed it slowly. As she did, she felt the dizziness and pain wash away. She noticed that he was watching her, seated on the other side of Ben who sat to her right. She smiled at the little Chinuk and he giggled, turning away, embarrassed. It was odd but he seemed to be very at home with the Quaie’Miren and they treated him as if he were no different than anyone else in the room. They showed not even a hint of surprise at seeing a Chinuk.
“This smells delicious!” Kirna exclaimed, sniffing the warm fumes that rose slowly from her plate.
“So, what are we eating?” Tycho asked curiously.
“Xiphias, in lemon butter and fresh vegetables,” Aden answered. Tycho looked a question at him and Aden pointed to the model fish on the wall.
“Oh, I see,” Tycho said, glancing at the wall and then back down at his plate. “You catch this?” he asked and Aden nodded with a mouth full of food. “Where do you get the vegetables?”
“Usually, everything we make, use, and eat, we get from the sea.” Ardenne interjected. “Goods that can only be procured by land, such as fruits and vegetables, we get from our kin on the islands. Sometimes, however, we get them from trade with the people of the Realm. Those of us who do not like the sea stay on the islands. They are called the Karahali Quaie’Miren. Our entire fleet meets there once a year for conference where we discuss economic and political issues. That is generally how it works.”
“So these islands, where are they exactly?” Tycho asked.
“Deep into the Aeolian sea, toward the northeast.”
“You sail into the Aeolian?!” Chalice asked with wide eyes. She knew that the Aeolian sea was the most dangerous in the world because of its violent storms and winds. She had learned, from the trading ships that stopped in Canton, that many trading vessels had been lost by sailing too deeply into it.
“The weather does not harm our ships. Our people have been sailing the sea since the Haeliad and the design of our vessels goes back all the way to that time. Ours are the only ships in the world that can sail the Aeolian. We are lucky to live on the Morning Dawn. She is the fastest and the most weatherly. It is easy to sail this sea with her.”
“Is this how you are able to escape Dar’Maalda? By sailing where his men cannot go?” Kirna asked.
“Yes, exactly.”
“But they are Terravailian,” Chalice said in confusion.
“And?”
“They can control the weather.”
“Chalice,” Ben interrupted, “it would take an enormous amount of Terravailian power to calm the weather over the Aeolian sea. Starting a wind is one thing because it can build upon itself but stopping a wind is very difficult. Stopping winds like those would be nearly impossible. You would need all the Terravailians alive to do it and it would still be very challenging.”
The Prophet was looking intently at Ben. “Master Graeystone, being Terravailian yourself and a member of the Realm, do you have any idea of the King’s intentions regarding the Gulf of Paelianna? The reason I ask is because we are interested in gaining access to the port cities in Maliya for trade, and entrance into those waters is still too dangerous because of the large Draaquan presence. Without it, it is very difficult to obtain Maliyan spices.”
Ben frowned in thought at the remark and scratched his chin. The news about Draaquan ships in the gulf puzzled him. “Well, I don’t know what his plans are but I do know that his intentions cannot be good. You see ...” Everyone ate slowly as they listened to Ben describe the King and the age-old conflict between the Maaldanese and the people. It was clear that the Marins knew nothing about the Realm and its internal problems. He explained how events surrounding these issues had led them to where they were when the Quaie’Miren found them. Lastly, he told them about the Delphaline, the prophecy, and how it related to their journey.
The Prophet nodded. “Ah, that was it. In the past two decades, we have noticed a big change in the Realm, at least in those areas where we do business. Not to worry though, Master Graeystone. We will set our heading for Auvergny once we are out in the open water. It would be best to arrive there just after dark. Your mission in Chainbridge will go more smoothly under the cloak of night, I think,” he said and Ben nodded. “And you say that you have ships in line for the journey back? You will not need us to wait for you?” Ben nodded again and the Prophet looked over at his wife. “You know, Winni, I knew that our mission this time was important. The last time I had this feeling was when we went looking for the lost ship in the gulf.” Turning to Ben he said: “That was an important mission as well, but unfortunately it wasn’t a successful one.”
“Well, it wasn’t there,” Aden said.
“Yes, it was. You just didn’t find it,” he replied sternly to his son and glanced down at his plate to cut a morsel of fish. Everyone turned to Aden as he shook his head in response and mouthed silently, “It wasn’t there!”
“It was there, Aden!” the Prophet said again loudly, still looking down at his plate. Aden jumped. He hadn’t been expecting that his father knew he was still contradicting him. 
“We believe you, Father,” Ardenne said kindly.
Chalice saw the expression on Tycho’s face and she and Kirna almost exploded into a fit of giggles. She wished Jeremiah could be there with them. He would have appreciated the humor.
“So ...” Tycho cut in cautiously, “which ship wasn’t there ... uh ...” Pausing, he looked at the Prophet and wisely added: “or should I say, was there, but wasn’t found?”
“The lost ship of Paelianna,” Aeron interjected.
“Oh, okay,” Tycho replied, nodding, and then paused. “Uh ... what’s that?” He asked as he glanced around in confusion at everyone who appeared to know what he didn’t.
“You don’t know the story?” Ardenne asked and Tycho shook his head, shrugging.
“If it makes you feel any better, Tyke, Kirna and I don’t know it either,” Chalice whispered to him and he smiled.
“Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘Paelianna, Iel Aelia D’Avaria’?” Ardenne asked and Tycho shook his head. Chalice, however, recognized the phrase but couldn’t remember where she had heard it. Ardenne continued: “She was the first Terravailian Queen of the Realm and the only monarch who was ever familiar with our people.”
“Yes, she was the first Ielierian to rule on the land after the Haeliad,” Ben interrupted. “She was one of your ancestors, Chalice.”
Ardenne nodded in agreement and continued: “She originally gave us lands on which to live but soon we discovered that our differences with the rest of the Realm made it difficult for us to belong to it, so we took to the sea. We built ships on which to live and they were so fine, she commissioned us to build a fleet for her. In return she paid us handsomely and let us trade freely with the people of the Realm and sail where we chose, not hindering our headings in anyway. Paelianna was wise and kind to everyone. She was a great Queen. Unfortunately, she loved a man who was not of the same character. His name was Dar’Baren. They say that love can blind a person. In her case, the blindness was complete. Dar’Baren was obsessed with wealth and power and would do anything to get it. He asked her hand in marriage with every intention of seeing her dead and taking over the Realm. She had no clue, of course. Outwardly, he appeared to be everything she thought of him, handsome, wise, kind — in short, a good husband and ruler — but secretly, he was developing a weapon that he could use to kill, destroy and conquer anyone who stood in his way. When she found out about it and about his plans to usurp her throne, she was devastated. She soon realized, however, that she had to do something about it before he could use the weapon on her and her family. So she had him imprisoned and executed. This set off a series of events that led to the First War of the Realm, and eventually, to her death. You see, Dar’Baren had followers and they wanted revenge. They also wanted the weapon that he had created. She took the weapon, a few trusted advisors, and the best crew that she possessed and set sail for the Great Maelstrom, a huge oceanic whirlpool that, at the time, consumed the gulf that is now called the Gulf of Paelianna. Now, the storm is mostly dormant. We only see it flare up once every several hundred years and even then it doesn’t last long. Anyhow, she had intended to throw the weapon into the maelstrom to dispose of it and head back home but those of his followers who had ships, pursued her. The chase ended in a battle at sea in which they all perished, dragged down into the deep, stormy waters of the gulf, never to be seen again.”
“It was shortly after this, Chalice, that your family instituted the oaths that now protect them,” Ben interrupted once again and then turned to Ardenne. “Pardon me, Ardenne. Please, continue.”
“No worries, Master Graeystone. Anyway, her lost ship is still out there somewhere. Most believe it to be too far deep into the ocean to be found but my father believes that the current carried her ship to a shallow part of the gulf, near the Blue Coral Reef, where divers can reach it. This is where we went looking. Our mission was cut short, however, by hostile Draaquan ships that chased us out of the gulf. Since then, we have not been able to return.”
“What a sad but beautiful story!” Chalice said and then she suddenly remembered where she had heard the name. Jeremiah had said it when they were in Branbury. Oh yeah, and Paelianna. That’s another favorite. It’s about a queen who dies to save her people. It’s a great story. A bit sad, though. There was something that struck Chalice’ curiosity, so she asked: “And the weapon, what was it?”
“No one knows,” Ardenne responded, shaking her head. “All we know is that it was very dangerous ... and evil. No opponent of Dar’Baren on which it was used ever survived. It was lethal.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that it’s gone!” Tycho added.
“Yes,” Ben interjected, nodding, but his expression remained disconcerted.
Chalice waited until the others were occupied in conversation and then whispered: “What is it, Ben?”
“This bothers me,” he murmured back.
“What does?”
“The Draaquan ships in the gulf. I want to know what they are doing there.”
“You think they may be looking for it?”
“They could be since they cannot use their power directly as a weapon. For a long time, they have been looking for other means to subdue the people. The only problem is that no one knows what kind of weapon Dar’Baren made or how to use it, so their presence there may not actually be related to that at all. Most likely, they are protecting their economic interest along the coastline. The Maliyan spice trade is very lucrative. I am not surprised that the Quaie’Miren would like access to those cities. However, we can’t be sure of what Dar’Maalda is planning. I am glad that the Prophet brought this to my attention.”
“So Dar’Maalda is looking for other weapons? I don’t understand, though. He is King. He already has control.”
“Yes, he does, but it is not complete and he knows that. There are those who still defy him secretly like us; for example, the Resistance, and if they decide to move against him, he wants to be able to have a sure victory. Especially now that he knows about you, he will be even more aggressive in his search.”
She turned away from Ben. Her face was pale and a chill ran down her spine. She set down her knife and fork and stared into her lap. She was no longer hungry. It was hard to imagine a man like Dar’Maalda with such a deadly weapon. Having control of the Draaquans was bad enough, wasn’t it? We need to hurry! she thought. We may be running out of time. Caught up in her thoughts, she heard the voice of Samus Marin telling them about another sea adventure that turned out to be a failure. She looked up and caught a glimpse of Aden rolling his eyes.
“Chalice dear,” Winnivere said, “do you not like the food? If not, we can bring you something else.”
“Oh ... no, it’s delicious. I’m sorry. I’m just not very hungry.” She paused and then said: “Would it be alright if I can tray this and take it to my friend? We are going to visit him after dinner. I know he will be hungry.” Ben raised an eyebrow at her. He hadn’t yet said that visiting Jeremiah was a definite thing. She didn’t care, though. She would go see him even if Ben said that she couldn’t.
“We will do better. We will save that for you, for later, and make him a fresh tray. How about that?” Chalice smiled and nodded. Then Winnivere motioned for one of the boy seamen to fetch a fresh tray of food for them as they finished up with their meal. Afterwards, they all thanked the Marins for their gracious hospitality and rose from the table. The boy returned and handed the tray to Chalice, who took it gratefully. They left with Ardenne and her brothers following behind. 
Once outside, Ardenne tried to justify her father’s behavior. “My father, he is stubborn but he is also very keen on exploration.”
Aden scoffed. “Denni, are you kidding? That’s putting it way too lightly. Dad always has us off on some hair-brained adventure that he thinks was revealed to him by his ‘sight’ and it always ends in disaster! It’s lunacy!”
“Not this time, Ade,” she said to him, shaking her head.
“On that, I will have to agree,” Aeron added.
“You two are ganging up on me again!” Aden turned toward Chalice and the others. “They do this to me all the time,” he said wryly. Chalice could see the wide grin on Tycho’s face. He liked them, she could tell. She had to admit though, that she liked the Marins too, just as much as he did. They were so odd.
Then Ardenne turned to Chalice. “Chalice, I wish we could join you in Master Maehbeck’s cabin but we need to meet with my little brother and set a course for Auvergny. Is that alright?”
“Oh, absolutely. Thank you, again, for everything!” At that, they said goodnight to one another and departed. Before she knew it, they were up on the stern deck in front of Jeremiah’s cabin door. Ben opened it and Chalice followed behind with the tray. Jeremiah was awake, lying on the bed, his body covered with blankets up to his chest. 
“Hey!” he said and smiled at them weakly. He looked so tired but she could tell that he was glad to see them. He raised himself up slowly on the pillows behind him until he was in a semi-sitting position. All the blood was gone from his wounds but his face and chest were still a mass of bruises and cuts, and his lip was swollen and split. Chalice scooted past the others and sat down on the chair next to him. Placing the tray on the bedside table, she picked up the soup bowl and spoon.
“We brought you some dinner,” she said, proffering it to him.
“Thanks!” He took the bowl and ate slowly. Kirna and Tycho took seats on the other side of the bed and Ben, lighting his pipe from the candle in the lamp hanging next to the bed, sat down with them. Jeremiah asked: “So, how was dinner?”
“It was fun. We learned the story of Paelianna,” Chalice said.
“Ah, Paelianna, the Queen of Courage,” he said softly.
“Iel Aelia D’Avaria,” she added and he looked her. “That’s what that means, the Queen of Courage,” she said.
“Oh.” He smiled.
“You know the story?” Tycho asked.
“Yeah, I do. My mom read it to me when I was young.”
“Oh okay, good, well anyway ...” Tycho proceeded to tell Jeremiah about the Marins and their idiosyncrasies, and also about their adventure looking for the lost ship. When he described the expressions on the faces of Ardenne and her brothers as their father told the story of Paelianna and location of her ship, Jeremiah snorted with laughter and then immediately clutched his side, wincing. Apparently, he was still feeling some pain.
Ben looked with concern at him. “How are you?” he asked.
“Better but still sore and weak.” Chalice did not want to stare at him. She could barely bring herself to look at his bruises. Every time she did, she felt guilty and tears wanted to break through her calm composure.
Ben nodded. “It will take a while but you should be fully recovered in a few days, a week at most. Bunejab will be here soon with more salve that you can use tomorrow. He is in my cabin mixing it now.” Ben shook his head, sadly. “They really did a number on you, didn’t they?”
Jeremiah nodded. “Yeah.”
“Kirna told me what happened.” Ben sighed. “So they know?”
Jeremiah knew exactly what Ben was referring to and nodded again. “Yeah, they do now. They thought it was me at first. When they couldn’t find the mark, they tried to beat the information out of me.” Chalice lowered her head to stare at her hands. She needed something on which to concentrate so that her thoughts would not drift to what she had witnessed in the clearing. She couldn’t yet deal with the guilt she felt and the tears that wanted to come.
Ben shook his head and looked at Chalice. “What happened is my fault. I should have chosen another route over the river, but all the same, Chalice, you shouldn’t have told them. You should have remained silent.”
She looked up at him indignantly, her eyes flaring. “They were going to kill him.”
“You should not have told them,” he said again calmly, but sternly, emphasizing each word.
“And let him die?!” Her voice was rising and her eyes blazed with anger. She couldn’t help it. It was easier to be angry than sad. She shook her head defiantly. “No way!” she spat. Kirna and Tycho just sat there in silence, watching, afraid to interrupt.
Ben paused and studied Chalice for a moment. He was beginning to sense the relationship between her and Jeremiah. She is so much like her father, he thought silently to himself. He realized that there was nothing he could do to convince her so he gave it up. 
“Well, what’s done is done. There’s nothing we can do now to change it.” He paused, then said: “By the way, what did they say when they saw the mark?”
“Nothing really. They were speechless, actually,” Jeremiah said and shook his head with a wry smile on his face.
“What is it?” Ben asked curiously.
“It wasn’t what they said. It was what she said.”
“Which was?”
“She told them to choke on it.”
At this, Ben’s eyes went wide and he burst out in a deep, hearty laugh, releasing all of the tension that had built up over the course of the past few days. After a few moments his laughter dissipated and he drew in a deep breath. “Chalice, you are too much like Duquaine. He always had a sharp tongue, too.” He shook his head. “And I’m not sure if that is a virtue or a curse.”
“A curse, I would say,” Jeremiah interjected. “She almost got her head cut off.” Ben’s eyes widened and Chalice could feel all of them staring at her. She looked down at her hands again, to hide her eyes.
“Kirna told me about her shoulder but not about this?”
“The young one, I think his name was Rhaene, he was going to kill her but the older one stopped him. He mentioned the oaths and that Dar’Maalda was unsure of something.”
Ben looked down to tap his pipe and nodded. “Hmmm, yes, that is something. I didn’t think of that.”
“What?” Jeremiah asked.
“Well, he is not sure if the oaths will hold for her. She is only half Terravailian.”
“Oh, that was it.” Jeremiah nodded. “He also said their orders were to give her to Vlaad so he could ...” He paused and swallowed. Chalice could tell that he was having trouble saying it so she finished the sentence for him.
“So he could torture information out of me and then find a way to ‘dispose of me.’ Those were his exact words.”
Ben nodded and his expression was serious. “And he would have, too.” He looked at Chalice. “You can thank your lucky stars that the Quaie’Miren showed up when they did. You probably shouldn’t have mouthed off.”
“Well, at the time I thought I was going to die anyway, so it didn’t really matter. I wasn’t going to give in to their bullying. I would never die like that.”
Looking at her in disbelief, Ben said: “You have the heart of a true Ielierian, you know that Chalice? Stubborn to the end.” He shook his head. “To ... the ... end,” he said.
She smiled weakly. She didn’t want to tell him about the stone but he would find out anyway. “Ben, there’s one more thing,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“They took the box.”
“With the stone and dagger in it?”
“Just the stone. I still have the dagger. Rhaene dropped it when the Quaie’Miren attacked.”
“What else did they take?”
“That was it,” she said, shaking her head.
He leaned back and let out a deep sigh. “Damn! I was hoping to have that examined. It holds a kind of power, a great deal of it, and no one seems to know what it is or what it does. The only ones who would know are in Portalis. Now we can’t bring it to them.” He puffed a ring of smoke. “I will have to ask our network of spies in the white palace to see if they can spot it or possibly get it back. In any case, Dar’Maalda won’t know what to do with it. If the Chinuka don’t know and I don’t either, he definitely won’t. We can at least rest assured in that.”
Just then the door opened and Bunejab stepped in with a small jar in his tiny hand. He walked over to Jeremiah and proffered it.
Taking the jar of salve, Jeremiah said: “Thanks, Buney!” Then he yawned widely.
“Alright, well, it’s probably time for us all to go to bed,” Ben said.
Catching the yawn from Jeremiah, Tycho said: “That is ... aww ... a good idea.” He and Kirna both had rings of fatigue under their eyes. As they rose from the bed to leave, Chalice did not budge. She took the empty bowl from Jeremiah, who had finished eating, and placed it back on the tray. Ben looked at her knowingly. He knew that she was not going to return to her room tonight.
“Good night, you two,” he said.
“Good night,” Jeremiah said and his head was turned away from her to watch them as they left. Chalice did not know what it was — having all of them gone at once or finally being alone with Jeremiah once again, or both. She could not stop the torrent of tears that surged behind her eyes. They came out in full force, flowing down her cheeks. When the door clicked shut, Jeremiah turned toward her.
“You know ...” He broke off, stunned, when he saw her face.
“It was my fault,” she cried. “It was all my fault. I was too slow. I ...” She couldn’t finish her words as she gasped for breath in between sobs. He looked at her with an expression of such tenderness that she couldn’t speak at all. Then he reached up with his hand, caressing her face with his palm, and stroked away the tears from her cheek with his thumb.
“Hey now, none of that. It wasn’t your fault, Chalice. It wasn’t your fault at all.” The tears kept falling, spilling down her cheeks onto his hand and into her lap. She just let them fall. She didn’t care. She didn’t need to be tough around him. He knew her. He knew her strengths and her weaknesses, and he still loved her, everything about her. Her tears were for his pain. They were for her pain. They were for her grandparents, for the villagers, for the Farahs and the children who lost their parents. They were for the blind woman in Woodrock and for all the people in her father’s kingdom. All of the stress that she had experienced up to this point, that was built up inside her, let loose all at once and she didn’t fight it this time. She laid her head on the side of the bed, up against his chest and he stroked her soft, golden hair.
“I don’t want to do this anymore, Jeremiah. I don’t want to see people suffer anymore. I want it to end.”
“I know,” he said soothingly. “I know.” Then he stroked her head and let her cry until the tears abated and they were both asleep.




Chapter 18
The Voyage to Auvergny

Chalice woke to a gentle nudge. She opened her eyes and saw again the blue-green eyes of Ardenne, just as she had the day before. She straightened and stretched and found that she had a painful kink in her neck from having slept in the chair at Jeremiah’s side all night long. Ardenne raised her finger to her lips for Chalice to stay silent. Then she placed a covered plate and a cup of milk on the tray next to Jeremiah. She picked up the empty bowl and motioned for Chalice to follow her. Then they made their way silently out of the room.
On deck, Ardenne smiled at her. “I thought you would like to have breakfast.”
“Yes, I am hungry,” Chalice said. “Thank you for waking me. I need to stop by my room first and dress if that’s alright.”
“Sure, I’ll come with you and keep you company,” she said as they made their way to Chalice’ cabin. In the room, Ardenne sat down on the bed as Chalice removed a dress from her bag and entered the washroom.
“How do you like your accommodations?” Ardenne asked.
“They are nice!” Chalice responded. “I was wondering about the creatures in the paintings when I first got here. Are they real?”
“Yes, they are. The small ones here, in the painting of the ship, they are called the dauphain. They are intelligent water mammals that live mostly in the waters near the Karahali.” Chalice walked out of the washroom, brush in hand and was stroking her hair as she studied the painting. The creatures that Ardenne was referring to were the smaller, bottle-nosed, whale-like mammals that were depicted as swimming underneath the front of the ship. One was jumping out of the water into the air. The ship, she thought, appeared to be the Morning Dawn. Ardenne continued: “Many of them explore the other seas as well. They travel with us at times, playing in the wakes of the ship. They provide protection by fending off the requin when we need to swim in the water. They are also our guides when the stars are not visible.”
“How is that?”
“They know the seas instinctually. When we need their help, one of us who has the ability, tells them. You see, they can communicate telepathically like you and me. Actually, there are many creatures in the wild that can. People just aren’t usually aware of it.”
“Does that include land creatures as well?”
“All creatures, on the land, air, and sea.”
“Hmmm, I didn’t know that,” Chalice said as images of the wolf and the white horse on the mountain swam into her mind. Had I been communicating with them without knowing it? She wondered silently to herself. “What are these over here?” Chalice motioned toward a painting of whales with the forward-pointing, spirally twisted tusks swimming in beautiful, aquamarine water.
“Ah, the narvhal. They are the life-givers of our people. They are the reason we are able to survive. They are mammals too. When one has reached the end of its life, it swims into the northern sea where it dies. We collect the bodies of those that have passed as they float on the surface. If we don’t collect them in time, the bodies sink and are given to nourish the sea. When we collect one, we use every part of the whale for food, cloth, tools and oil.”
“Really?” Chalice asked. She was beginning to understand how much there was to know about life at sea. She had no idea how many different creatures there were in the vast oceans. As she walked back into the washroom to change, her stomach growled.
“So, what’s for breakfast this morning?”
“The usual — fruit, hot bread, butter, and honey.”
“Is that what you brought Jeremiah when you woke me?” 
“Yes, I thought he would be hungry too. I’m sorry he isn’t able to come to the dining cabin with us. I will have Lofty see to his meals until he is well enough to join us.” She paused for a moment and then asked: “This young man, he is your sea partner?” 
Chalice poked her head around the corner of the door and smiled. “My sea partner?” she asked and returned to the washroom to slip on her blue dress. “Yeah, something like that I guess, for now that is, until we are on land again.”
“No, I think maybe you misunderstand. A sea partner is not temporary. He is for life. A shipmate can be temporary,” Ardenne said. Chalice poked her head around the corner again and looked a question at her. Ardenne continued: “A shipmate is someone you are particularly fond of but do not know well enough to be sea partners. If that feeling dissipates over time, you are no longer shipmates but if it grows into a stronger connection, he becomes your sea partner and his relation to you is for life.” 
“So what do you do when you decide to become partners?”
“There is a small, secluded island located off the shores of the Karahali. We call it Minos. When two people become one, they spend a month there together alone — swimming, fishing, building a small hut to stay warm at night ... you know, that sort of thing. They are not given any materials for survival, only the clothing they are wearing the day they row out together, so that they have to live off the island for a month.”
“Why do they have to do that?”
“It is a test. It is to see if they can do it and not break from each other.” 
Fully dressed, Chalice came around the corner and said: “You’re joking?!”
Ardenne smiled and shook her head. “No, I’m not,” she said.
“What if it doesn’t work out?” 
“Then they can row back to the main island at any time. It is not far. Sometimes, it doesn’t work for some but that is very rare. Usually, when that happens, the two were not a good fit for each other to begin with and made a hasty decision to become partners. You see, it is not hard to do. We are taught survival training early on in our education so living on the island is easy. A couple’s month there together is more of a retreat than anything.” She looked up at the painting of the islands and sighed. “I enjoyed my time there with Darion. There is a fresh water spring in the middle of Minos, so we did not have to search for water. All we had to do is make shelter, fire, and tools for fishing. We also had to know which plants we could and could not eat. It was easy ... and relaxing. The rest of the time we just enjoyed being together, swimming with the dauphain, hiking up the mountain, and exploring the island.” Ardenne paused as she studied Chalice. “That is a beautiful dress!”
“Oh, thank you!” Chalice said. “My friend Sieren Farah gave it me. She is wonderful. You would like her. Someday I hope to introduce her to you.”
Ardenne smiled. “I would like that.” 
Chalice nodded and walked over to pick up her cloak, wrapping it around herself. She thought about what Ardenne had said and realized that she had been describing the Quaie’Miren version of courtship and marriage. “You know, I’m not sure if I could call Jeremiah my sea partner, actually.”
“So he is your shipmate then? You are fond of each other but do not know each other well enough to be sea partners.”
“Well, yes and no.” Ardenne creased her brows in confusion and Chalice continued: “We are fond of each other and know each other very well, since childhood, actually, but we are not married.” When Ardenne still appeared not to understand, she explained: “Marriage is what we call it in our culture. When a couple gets ‘married,’ that is akin to them becoming sea partners, except when you get married, you don’t have to spend a month on an island together. It is just a matter of going through a simple ceremony where you make vows to each other in front of friends and family.”
“Oh, I see,” Ardenne said. “So you two will get married?”
Chalice opened the door and sighed. “Well, no, we won’t,” she said sadly. “We can’t.”
Ardenne looked at her in shock. “Why not?” she asked. She couldn’t see the logic in that at all.
“Our culture is much more complicated than yours. Your life is the sea and the sea is simple,” Chalice said and they left the cabin.
Ardenne furrowed her brow as they walked along the planks to the lower deck that led to the bridge. “Well, I have to disagree with you. Life on the sea is anything but simple, so to counterbalance that, we keep everything else as simple as possible. This includes our relations with one another. If you belonged to us, you and he would already be sea partners. You two are the very definition of it. Only a sea partner would spend the night with you in the same cabin. If you need, we can move your things into his room.”
At that, Chalice flushed. “Oh ... no, that’s alright. I’m fine where I am, thank you.” She liked the idea though. It was so simple and true. Shouldn’t life be that simple? Shouldn’t it work that way? “You know, Ardenne, you may not think so but you are lucky to be Quaie’Miren.”
Ardenne smiled and opened the door to the dining cabin. Immediately the smell of warm bread and honey made Chalice’ stomach rumble as she rushed in and found that Tycho, Kirna, Ardenne’s brothers and Darion were already seated at the table. Before she knew it, she and Ardenne were seated with the others, enjoying breakfast and light conversation. Then, suddenly, they felt the ship jolt to the left as the wind howled outside. Water and juice spilled from the glasses on the table as the vessel quickly steadied itself.
Ardenne looked up from her plate. “Ah, we must have hit open water.”
“Or it’s Ol’ Shimeara!” Aden added jokingly with wide eyes, feigning to be frightened. Ardenne rolled her eyes and her brothers laughed. The others looked a question at her.
“It’s an old Quaie’Miren fable,” she scoffed, “meant to explain the wailing winds of the Aeolian.”
“Who is Shimeara?” Kirna asked.
“Shimeara was a Prophet who lived long ago. She met a man while trading in Var’Baden and fell in love. She spent time on the land while they courted and was considering giving up her title to her brother so that she could stay with him. Then, after a while, she felt a painful longing to return to the sea. Knowing that he could never live his life on the ocean and knowing that he would outlive her as well, he let her go and stayed behind. After a few months, he became so heartbroken that he built a boat and went looking for her, sailing deep into the Aeolian. But the storms of the Aeolian are ruthless and his boat was swallowed up by the waves. When she returned to Var’Baden to see him, she was told that he had sailed away to the Karahali to find her. So she set out looking for his boat. She never found it. Her whole life, she never married and never gave up looking for him. When she died, her title passed to her younger brother. It is said that, to this day, her ghost still sails the sea, looking for him, wailing for her lost love.” Ardenne rolled her eyes again and continued: “So, when one hears the sough of the wind out at sea, that is supposed to be Ol’ Shimeara.” She frowned. “It’s a stupid fable if you ask me. It’s really more of a bedtime story for kids.” 
Aden laughed at his sister. “Yep, you’ve always been the hopeless romantic, Denni!” he said sarcastically. Even Aeron and Darion had to smile at that.
“If you mean that I prefer sticking Draaquan scum with my arrows to save people like Chalice and Jeremiah, then you’re right Aden!” she retorted defiantly.
“That is something I meant to ask you about, Ardenne,” Chalice said. “I noticed that your arrows easily pierced their armor. How is it that your arrows are so effective?”
“Well, first of all, our arrows are tipped with obsidian arrowheads, which is the sharpest and strongest material that you can find. Also, the arrows’ shafts are shaped out of whale bone, which makes them very strong. Our bows are longbows made from the tusks of the narvhal and they can send an arrow whistling swiftly through the air at great distances. Up close, they can pretty much penetrate anything.”
“Where do you get the obsidian? I noticed that you have obsidian knives as well.”
“Well, where did you get your obsidian dagger?” Aden asked.
“From a friend.” Chalice answered, still wanting to keep that information to herself. She trusted them but she didn’t want to give up any secrets out of respect for the Chinuka.
“And would that friend happen to be a furry creature who lives high up in the Trui’Quirre mountains and looks like Bunejab?”
“How do you know that?”
Aeron grinned. “Because that is where we get ours.”
“How? The Chinuka do not trade with people anymore.”
“They don’t trade with the people of the Realm but they do with us,” he said. Chalice arched an eyebrow.
“We have goods that they want,” Ardenne interjected. “Things from the sea like certain kinds of fish, shells, and even the shagreen that they use to make their drums. They are big on festivals and dancing. We meet with them high up in the mountains when we have goods to trade and when we need to make more arrows.”
“Jeremiah will be interested to hear about this,” Chalice said, thinking about his broken bow. “Do you sell your bows and arrows?”
Ardenne nodded. “Yes, we do but they are very expensive, mostly because they are very expensive to make, not just because of the materials but also because of the process by which we shape them. We have actually sold many to the Strelzi.”
Suddenly Chalice, Kirna, and Tycho looked up and said in unison, “The Strelzi?! Where?!”
“We meet with them in the north,” Aeron said. “We don’t know where they come from.”
“Oh, I see.” Chalice had to admit she was a little disappointed. She was hoping to find out more about her father’s bowmen. “So how is it that you make these tools?”
“The knives and the arrowheads are shaped for us by the Chinuka, so this saves us a lot of time. Only they have the means by which to shape obsidian. No one else does, apparently. The arrow shafts take time because they are shaped from bone by the use of our knives that we get from the Chinuka. The bows take even longer. The narvhal tusk, when it is extracted from the animal, is very tough and unbending. We have to let it soak for a time in the liquids extracted from the animal’s stomach so that it will become supple enough to carve notches at the ends and to bend into the perfect bow shape. The string we use to tie the ends is made from the tough hide of the narvhal after it has been set out in the sun to dry. All in all, it is a fairly long process and it has to be done for each bow.”
“We may buy one from you,” Chalice said excitedly. “Jeremiah is a hunter and he fashions his own tools as well, like you, but unfortunately, the Draaquans destroyed them.”
“I am sorry to hear that. I think we may have some for trading, some that are newly made and have not been used yet. I can check in the cargo hold. I’m pretty sure I saw a few of them.”
“That would be great!” Chalice said. She was excited. When Jeremiah was better, she would go tell him. She knew it would be something that would make him happy after all they had been through. They continued on in conversation until breakfast was over and they were all sufficiently fed and watered. 
After they left the cabin, Ardenne gave them a tour of the ship. Once outside, they found that they were indeed out on the sea, sailing westward, with the coastline to their left, way off in the distance. The sun still sat just over the horizon in the west and shot a golden streamline over the water, reaching the ship. The ocean water was a gorgeous blue and sparkled with light in every direction. The speed of the Morning Dawn amazed Chalice. The Quaie’Miren were truly the greatest master shipbuilders that lived in Naeo’Gaea and she felt honored to have been able to meet them. 
Ardenne introduced them to each and every deck hand and explained their function on the vessel. It seemed overwhelmingly complicated to Chalice who soon forgot all the minute details that were shown her. Tycho, however, took to it like a duck to water and was soon helping the crew. During the down time, he took out his cup of jags and taught everyone how to play. He absolutely loved it this way because, he being the teacher and they the students, he always won. His preoccupation with helping and teaching the crew gave the girls time to walk on the deck and talk for the rest of the day. Ben, it seemed, spent the day visiting with the Prophet and his wife while Bunejab climbed the ratlines into the masts with Lofty and swung from the rigging, performing acrobatic flips for everyone to see. At night, after dinner, Lofty sat up on the boom of the main mast and played the flute loudly while Bunejab, who had constructed a few makeshift drums out of shagreen and some small empty brandy barrels, played the drums. They danced, laughed, and played games until everyone became too tired to move. Then, they slowly made their way back to their bedchambers for the night and fell asleep.
And so the days and nights passed in this fashion for the remainder of the week. Chalice was sad that Jeremiah had to remain bedridden the whole time but she knew it was necessary. His meals were taken to him by the serving boys and Bunejab brought him new salve everyday that he had mixed for his bruises. Bunejab also took care of Chalice’ shoulder every night before dinner, taking off the bandages and checking the wound, only to reapply medicine and re-wrap it. It was still not fully healing, which seemed to vex the little Chinuk, but the bleeding had mostly stopped and the soreness was gone. 
During the day, Chalice wished Jeremiah could have joined them while they promenaded around the ship and learned about the life of the Quaie’Miren. He was missing out on so much, she thought. Then it occurred to her that that must have been the way he had felt when she was sick at the Farahs’ castle. No wonder he came to visit me every evening, she thought. Unlike him, though, she did not go back in to see him. A conflict was brewing inside her and she didn’t know what to do about it. Until now, their relationship had largely been kept secret. She was surprised that Ardenne had been so keen to notice it. To Chalice, it was such a personal thing. She wanted to see him but she knew the social ramifications of their relationship. Did she care? She wasn’t sure. What she could be sure of, however, was that the King wanted her dead. What would her death do to Jeremiah? Would it devastate him? Should I let him get close to me, knowing the dangers? Or should I stay away ... stay distant? She didn’t want to think about it. In the end, she convinced herself that he would need peace and quiet so that he could rest and recover. After all, he had been in very bad condition when they arrived, she thought. 
The morning of the seventh day at sea, Chalice walked into the dining cabin and found Ardenne seated with her family, Ben and Bunejab. A new bow and a quiver full of arrows was on the table next to her. A dark leather belt lay next to them. Chalice sat down, staring at the weapons.
“This is for you,” Ardenne said, handing the belt to Chalice. It resembled Ardenne’s belt, with a sheath for a knife and a leather pouch fashioned on the sides. “And these are for Jeremiah,” she continued, motioning to the bow and quiver.
Chalice jaw dropped. “Really? Thank you! How much do I owe you?” she asked.
“You owe me nothing,” Ardenne responded. “It is a gift in return for the beautiful blue dress that you gave me.”
“Wow! Thank you!” Chalice remembered that she had given Ardenne the dress that she had admired the first day of their voyage. Ardenne had tried it on and it had fit her so well, and looked so good on her, that Chalice gave it to her. Chalice also knew that the dress wasn’t worth even half of what the bow and arrows were worth. Not even close. This was an incredible gift and she knew it. She couldn’t wait to tell Jeremiah. He must be fully healed by now, she thought. I could go tell him.
“I’ll be right back,” she said and shot up from the chair in hurried excitement. She ran out of the bridge and up the ladder to the stern deck. When she reached Jeremiah’s cabin door, she knocked and heard his deep voice echo from the inside. 
“Come in. The door’s open.”
She had missed that voice. She hadn’t seen him since the night she spent in the chair next to his bed. She entered and found him shirtless in front of the mirror, applying Bunejab’s salve to his side. She could see that his bruises and wounds were almost completely gone. He had just gotten out of the bath and his hair and chest were still wet. She froze and gaped as he stood there. The form of his chiseled muscles gleamed in the lamplight. Her cheeks heated and her heart beat so fast she thought it would beat right out of her chest. She couldn’t control it. She had never seen him this way before.
Stammering, she said: “Oh, I ... I’m sorry. B ... Bad time. I’ll come back later.” She quickly turned to leave and almost ran into the edge of the open door.
“Chalice, no, stay,” he said softly as he walked away from the mirror. “Please, stay. I haven’t seen you all week.”
Something made her stop and turn. It was almost as if she had no control over her own motions. Walking in slowly, she shut the door behind her. She hoped that he could not see the flush in her cheeks. She suddenly couldn’t remember why she had come in the first place. All she could think to say was: “You look much better. You can barely tell you were hurt at all.”
“Well, Bunejab’s herbs work miracles, don’t they?”
“Did he heal your ribs too? Or did Ben do that?”
“Ben. It was the strangest feeling too. Like hot water rushing through my rib cage, right where the fractures were.”
“Where were they?”
“Right here,” he said as he motioned to a place on his lower chest. He was very close to her now. It made her heart beat even faster.
She scanned the area with her eyes and reached up to brush her fingers over the bare skin. She felt his muscle ripple as she stroked her hand across. He looked down, watching her intensely as if her touch could heal him all over again. Then she moved her palm over the ribs to the middle of his chest and felt his strong heart pulsing underneath. He laid his hand over hers. His expression was very serious but he spoke softly.
“Chalice, Ben was right. You should not have told them about your mark. Now they know who you are. The most powerful man in the world wants you dead and anonymity can no longer protect you.”
She shook her head. “They would have killed you.”
“You don’t get it, do you? I would rather die than see you in this kind of danger. I would rather die than see you die right in front of my eyes. I couldn’t bear that and it almost happened.” His voice was stern and his words drained away all of the stubborn anger inside her. Peering deeply into his dark eyes, she realized that she had been wrong. She hadn’t been thinking about how he felt during that day in the forest clearing. She had only been thinking of herself. She reached up to stroke his cheek.
She felt his fingers caress the back of her neck, brushing her blond locks and moving her closer. She breathed him in. He smelled clean. It was a mixture of soap, hot water, and a scent that was uniquely his own. She was aware of everything about him, from his wet eyelashes to the drops of water that streamed down his cheek and over the roundness of his lips. His eyes were brown pools that drew her in and she knew that if she let herself, she could get lost in them forever. His arms lifted her from the floor and he pulled her to him as passionately as she pulled him to her. Her hands brushed the back of his neck gently as her mouth melted into his. The moment seemed endless and she could feel eternity in his arms.
Then, suddenly, the door flung open. “Hey, Jer! You got that cup of jags I asked about?” It was Tycho.
Jeremiah was the first to recover, glancing up, as Chalice hid her face in his chest, breathless and thoroughly embarrassed. “Tyke, in the future, do you think you could maybe knock before entering?” he asked politely.
Tycho halted and gaped, not believing what he was seeing. “Oh, uh, oops. S ... sorry dude. I’m sorry,” he stuttered and backed away carefully, shutting the door.
Chalice broke out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter, shaking with mirth in his arms as he held her. He was trying not to laugh, his lips pressed to her forehead. He held her like that until the laughter was gone. Then he said: “By the way, what did you come for?”
“Oh, you know, I forgot,” she said sheepishly and the corner of his mouth quirked into a crooked smile. Then her face lit up. “Oh, yeah, I remember now. I was going to tell you about the bow that Ardenne has for you.”
His eyebrows shot up. “She has a bow for me?” he asked and she nodded.
“Yeah, it’s really nice too. It’s made out of narvhal tusk,” she said and he looked a question at her. Then she told him everything that Ardenne had taught her about the narvhal and the bows. “The arrows they make out of bone, seagrael feathers, and obsidian. That is how their arrows were able to penetrate the Draaquan armor so easily. The arrowheads are obsidian.”
“Where do they get it?”
“From the Chinuka! Apparently, the Chinuka will trade with them when they want special things from the sea that only the Quaie’Miren have.”
“They do? That’s interesting. I never knew that,” he said as he made his way to his bags and pulled out a shirt. “Okay, hold on. Let me finish getting ready and I’ll be right there.”
“Alright, we’re in the main cabin on the lower deck. They call it the Bridge. It’s just below us,” she said and left the room. Out on deck, she brushed her hand down her dress and it came away wet. She realized that it was from holding him. That’s not obvious or anything, she thought to herself. I better stop by my room and change. She did this quickly, and in a few minutes was back in the dining cabin downstairs with the others.
She noticed immediately that Kirna and Tycho had arrived and were watching her keenly as she entered the room. She pretended not to notice Tycho snickering in the corner and sat down next to Kirna.
“I went to tell Jeremiah about his gift. He will be down in a minute,” she said to Ardenne. “He’s just changing.” At this point, she could no longer ignore the blatant stare that Kirna was giving her and so she turned and signed with her hands, Tycho told you, didn’t he? Kirna, nodded, giving her a wry smile. Don’t smile at me like that, she signed again.
I’m just happy for you, that’s all, Kirna signed back. So when did it happen? 
Chalice looked a question at her. Just now, her hand signal said.
No, I mean when did you and he discover ... you know?
Oh that. I’m not really sure. I think we have always felt this way, since childhood. We just didn’t realize it until now.
Tycho and I always wondered about you two but you were so good at hiding it. So we assumed you were always just good friends.
Chalice looked down at her hands and didn’t sign this time. Instead, she said softly: “No, we are much more than that.”
Kirna paused, a concerned expression on her face. “But, you remember what Ben said ... you know, about ...”
Chalice interrupted her. She knew what Kirna was going to say. “I know, Kirna. I know. I don’t want to talk about it right now. Who knows what is going to happen in the future or how this will all end.” And if I will even survive it, she thought silently to herself but didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to worry her best friend. She knew very well that there was a good chance that she wouldn’t survive.
“Right ... okay,” Kirna responded, nodding to her friend to show her that she understood. Just then, Jeremiah entered the cabin and everyone greeted him.
“It’s good to see you up and about, Jer! How are you feeling?” Tycho said as Jeremiah took a seat next to him.
“Excellent,” he said. “I feel great! And I’m hungry!” he added, as plates of food were handed to him. “Thank you!” He ate ravenously. As soon as they were finished with breakfast, Ardenne passed the bow and arrows down to Jeremiah and explained how the tools were crafted. Jeremiah examined each tool and shook his head in disbelief. “This is fantastic, Ardenne! Thank you!” Chalice knew he would be happy. Just then, he flitted a glance at her and she blushed. She suddenly had a feeling that he was happy about more than just the new bow.
“You want to go outside and try it out?” Ardenne asked.
“Absolutely!” he said and with that, they all rose from the table and went out on the quarterdeck to the side of the ship. 
“Here Jeremiah, use this arrow,” Aden said and handed him an arrow that appeared to be made out of cheaper materials than the ones in his quiver. “You don’t want to waste yours.” Jeremiah took it and Aden showed him how to strap the quiver to his back and hold the longbow straight to shoot. 
Suddenly, Tycho jumped and pointed to the water. “Hey, look! In the water, just there.” They all did and saw a pod of dauphain swimming along with the ship, racing each other and jumping out of the water. Lofty and Bunejab scrambled up the ratlines where they could get a better view and Bunejab chittered excitedly. “What are they?” Tycho asked.
“They are called dauphain,” Ardenne said. She proceeded to tell him what she had taught Chalice the first day. “I know a couple of them in this pod,” she said peering down into the water. “That one, he is my favorite. His name is Squirt. I can tell by his coloring and by the way he swims, always in the front.”
Tycho turned away from the rail and looked at her. “You know them?” he asked incredulously and Ardenne nodded, smiling knowingly. Then she did something very odd. She backed away from him slightly as he said: “So, why do you call him Squirt?” Just then, the dauphain sucked in a gulp of water and blew it forcefully out of his airhole. The water shot straight up, far into the air, and then right down onto Tycho’s head, drenching him all over. Everyone just about fell on the deck laughing hysterically. Sopping wet, with water dripping into his eyes, Tycho scowled and said: “Uh ... nevermind.” He looked over the rail and saw the animal leap out of the water, flip, and give a loud squeak. “Very funny, Squirt!”
“He does that to everyone,” Aeron laughed. “If he squirts you, that means he likes you.”
Tycho smiled and shook the water from his hands. Then he proceeded to walk toward the ladder of the stern deck. “I’ll be back. Gotta go change. I will definitely keep an eye out for that one in the future,” he added wryly as his boots squished down the planks.
After recovering from their laughter, the others watched as Jeremiah nocked an arrow with his new bow.
“Aim high and far ... like this,” Aden positioned Jeremiah’s arms just so. “We don’t want to hit them,” he said motioning to the dauphain.
“Okay, how about now?”
“You’re good. Go!” Aden said and they all heard the soft THUP as the arrow was loosed and cut swiftly through the air, straight out into the sea. It shot so far, that they could barely see it when it hit the water. Jeremiah was ecstatic. He wanted to shoot more but didn’t want to waste the arrows. He thanked them again and took his new gift back to his cabin. Aden then gave him a tour of the ship and the day proceeded as usual with Jeremiah assisting Tycho in helping the crew and playing games during the down time. And at night, after dinner, as usual, they played music and danced until they were all too tired to continue and then went to bed.
In the middle of the night, Chalice awoke to a sudden jolt. The ship had run into some heavy winds and was adjusting to them. She had been dreaming of the white corridor again. She closed her eyes and tried to fall back into the dream. When she found that she couldn’t, she rose from the bed, slipped her cloak over her shoulders, and stepped outside to the wooden railing overlooking the quarterdeck. Maana, the dull moon, looked like a fingernail in the night sky just over the watery horizon and the stars shone brightly around it. It made her think of the time she had spent at the Farah’s.
“They are beautiful, aren’t they?”
Chalice turned to see Ardenne, in a dark night cloak, her blond hair blowing in the wind. Ardenne moved up to the railing next to her. 
“Yeah, they are,” she replied.
“They guide us during the night,” Ardenne added and then glanced sideways at her. “Can’t sleep either, huh?”
“Yeah, the ship’s movement woke me.”
“The winds are getting stronger,” Ardenne said. “During these past few days, we have been heading deeper in the Aeolian, away from the coast.”
“Why?”
“To avoid being spotted. It will take us longer to get to Auvergny but we will we get there more safely, I think.”
“Oh, I see,” she said looking out into the stars. “So, you must be familiar with star constellations?”
“Yes, we are. The stars not only guide us at sea but they also tell us what time of year it is and where the warm weather will be.”
“Like a clock or a calendar,” Chalice commented and Ardenne looked at her curiously. 
“Exactly,” she replied, nodding. Chalice was thinking of the astronomy tower and its riddle. Could Ardenne decipher it? she wondered. Then Ardenne continued: “During the day, we use our backstaff and the sun. If it is not visible, say if it is overcast, we also have navigational charts and a compass, although the charts are not complete and the compass doesn’t always point to true north. In any case, if these fail us, we always have the dauphain. They know the waters better than any creature.”
Chalice smiled. “Yes, they seem to be very smart. I’m glad we got to see them.”
“So am I,” Ardenne said. “Hey, I’m going down to the bridge to grab a cup of tea. You want to come? It is a special kind of tea and will help you sleep.”
“Sure!” Chalice replied and they strode down the planks.
The tea was good and it made her drowsy. Afterwards, as she lay there in her bed, falling back into the deep slumber of the dream, she made a mental note to herself that she would someday have to take Ardenne to Cedarwood.
Finally, two weeks later, at dusk, the Morning Dawn floated gently into Marego Bay and approached the docks of Auvergny slowly and quietly. The crew had been instructed to remain as silent as possible. The bay was large and as they drew closer, Chalice noticed that the docks were criss-crossed, set up to harbor a fleet of all different types of ships. Ardenne had told Lofty to set the ship at the farthest slip from the customs house that was next to the entrance of the city. He did so and soon they were securely moored. Packed and ready to go, the small band waited on the main deck for Ardenne, who had made sure that they had enough provisions for their journey. After the planks were secured on the quay, Ardenne led them down to the hatch and out onto the plank, which they descended. When they reached the end, she turned to Chalice.
“Your horses are just there, waiting for you.” She pointed to the men on the quay who were holding their reins. 
“Thank you again, for everything! I don’t know what we would have done without you,” Chalice said as she gave her new friend an endearing hug.
“Don’t mention it. We are honored to assist the Raie’Chaelia. If you need us again, just call.”
“If I can remember how,” Chalice said, smiling. She still felt uncomfortable with her title. She didn’t think she could ever get used to being called the True Princess.
“You will remember,” Ardenne reassured her and smiled back as Chalice and the others gathered their mounts from the men and lead them down the walkway.
After a moment, Jeremiah perked up and said: “Hey, I just wondered.”
“What?” Chalice asked.
“What does the word Quaie’Miren mean anyway?”
“It means the ‘Faithful Seers.’” Chalice said and Ben nodded in agreement at her words. 
Jeremiah scratched his chin. “That is a fitting name for them,” he added and Chalice nodded thoughtfully. The evening sun shot long shadows on the wooden planks of the pier, and cries of petrels echoed in the moist air, as they strode down the dock to enter the port town of Auvergny.




Chapter 19
Chainbridge

“There are guards at the gate,” Jeremiah cautioned, squinting.
“You have good eyes!” Ben remarked, lowering his looking glass. “Yes, I suspected there might be,” he added as he glanced down the landing stage that jutted out from the main strip of the pier. The others were hiding in the shadow of a merchant ship that was docked in a slip next to them. He motioned for them to approach. Waves lapped up against the side of the ship as it creaked with movement and masked the sound of their footsteps as they made their way toward him. “I want you all to stick together in a tight circle until we are off the pier and onto the village road. Don’t move too quickly either. If you manage to do this correctly, the guards won’t see or hear you,” he said, pointing to the customs house that stood next to the entrance to the town. Everyone nodded and did as he told them. “Follow me but be as quiet as you can. When I give the signal, you can cross the gate.”
“What’s the signal?” Jeremiah asked.
“I will tug on my right ear, like this,” he replied and showed them. As he strode in front of them with his mount, his stone glowed a soft grey. Then he tucked it deep into his cloak so that no light shone. Suddenly, Chalice felt a strange sensation pass over them. It was like a warm wind that rippled through her hair and down her neck. Then instantly, she could hear nothing, not even the sound of her own breathing. It was almost as if she had gone completely deaf. The unnaturalness of it threw her, but she continued on with the others without faltering.
When they reached the customs house, one of the men in uniform sauntered up to Ben, motioning for him to stop. The man said something to him and Ben pulled out of his pocket the papers that the Farahs had given him. Then the man nodded and motioned toward the door of the customs house. Ben handed him the reins to his horse and disappeared behind the door. 
Chalice watched the guard holding the horse as he looked over his shoulder to make sure that Ben was gone. Then he moved over to undo the strap on Ben’s saddlebag. You scheming thief! she cursed silently. She had to restrain herself. It was all she could do to keep herself from breaking out of the circle and yelling for Ben. She didn’t need to, however, because the Appaloosa, seeming to sense what the man was doing, moved out of the way so that he could not reach the saddle. The man tugged on the reins and scolded the horse but it did him no good. The horse continued to dance around, thwarting every effort he made. Chalice giggled quietly as she looked at the others who were laughing as well. The horse was making a complete fool of him.
Just then Ben emerged from the small building and the man stood still, abandoning his attempt. Chalice could see that Ben was holding the papers that were stamped with the custom house seal of approval. Although he hid it well, his face was pale and she could tell that he was worried. As the man handed the reins back to him, Ben motioned for the other guards to approach. When they circled around him, Chalice saw him tug on his right ear and she nudged Jeremiah, who motioned the others to follow. Slowly, carefully, and soundlessly, the five of them moved past the circle of guards and set out into the streets of Auvergny. When they were a safe distance ahead and blocked by a stone statue, they stopped and waited. Ben was walking brusquely, guiding his horse in their direction, not looking back. As he drew near, Chalice could hear sound come back to the world and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Something is wrong,” she said to the others.
“What do you mean?” Kirna asked.
“I can tell by his face,” she replied. “Something happened in that customs house.” Just then Ben had reached them.
“Chalice, Jeremiah, pull the cowl of your cloaks up and hide your faces. Do it now!” he said sternly and they lifted their hoods.
“What’s going on, Ben?” Jeremiah asked.
“There are drawings of you two posted on the walls in custom houses of every port city in the Realm. There is a bounty on you, alive or dead.”
“How do you know this?” Chalice asked.
“There are two posted on the wall in there and they are good likenesses of you two,” he said, pointing back toward the pier. “I asked about them. I had to skirt around the subject carefully so as to not cause suspicion, but that’s what I learned. And how the news traveled this quickly, I have no idea.”
“Well, wait a minute, how are we going to get back, especially with ...” Chalice broke off.
“That’s right Ben,” Jeremiah finished for her. “How are we going to escort an entire village of people through the entrance and past those guards? Isn’t that going to be a little obvious?”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan to deal with the guards. There are not many of them so it will be easy. Just follow my instructions and it should be fine ...”
“Isn’t that what you said when we left Cedarwood?” Tycho interrupted.
“Tycho, I’m not in the mood right now,” Ben growled warningly, in a low voice. Then he placed Bunejab in front of his saddle and mounted his horse. Tycho shut his mouth immediately, mounted, and followed Ben with the others.
“Ben, you know that guard who was holding your horse?” Chalice asked.
“Yeah.” 
“He was trying to get into your saddlebag.”
“Did he manage to take anything?”
“No, your horse kept moving out of the way.”
He grinned and patted the horse on the neck. “Good boy!” he said. “Yep, that’s why I named him Dancing Clown. He has been trained to do that with strangers.”
Chalice smiled. Smart horse! she thought as they continued on down a narrow alleyway to the right. The cobblestone street, wet with moisture from the coastal air, glittered in the moonlight. The shop windows along the alleyway were dark as businesses had already retired for the evening. The sun was set and the only lamplight streamed from broken windows of a tavern ahead where an annoying clamor broke the silence of the dark. A chipped wooden sign just outside, hanging lopsided on its chains, read The Fisherman’s Tale. The six riders passed by it unnoticed, as the men inside were engaged in drink, music and dance. It appeared that nothing on the outside could interrupt the ruckus within. As they rode the length of the road, they noted that every street block had some sort of tavern or inn sporting loud music and carousing men. They passed by several horse carriages and wagons along the way and after a few minutes, were close to the edge of the town. Out of the corner of her eye, Chalice thought she had seen a shadow peeking out from behind a building, but when she looked again, there was nothing there. I’m jumping at shadows, she chided herself silently. I need to calm down.
The buildings and cobblestone streets eventually gave way to dirt roads and lush countryside. Cottages dotted the hillside sparsely as the road stretched up a steep hill. As soon as they had crested it, they saw the profile of a small mountain in the distance, contrasted with the light of the moon rising just behind it.
“There it is,” Ben said.
“What?” Chalice asked. “That’s Chainbridge?!” She couldn’t believe how enormous it was.
“Yes. The mountain is its base and the fortress covers the entire top,” Ben replied. “At this point, we need to get off the main road. We will cross over there into the trees.” He pointed down the road to the right and heeled his mount forward. They followed. As they drew nearer to the trees, Chalice could see in the moonlight the huge chains that held the massive bridge in front of the entrance. It spanned a wide, steep canyon that separated the mountain from the hillside. As soon as they entered the thicket of trees, they could barely see where they were going. The moonlight was completely blocked by the dark canopy overhead. Jeremiah reached behind his saddle and detached a small lantern that Ardenne had given them. Halting briefly, he lit it with flint and steel from his bag. Holding it up so everyone could see the path ahead, they proceeded through the trees to a winding trail that led down the steep slope of the canyon. It took what seemed hours to reach the bottom and even longer to reach the base of the mountain.
“The entrance is this way,” Ben said and they followed him into a narrow gorge eroded into the mountainside. The steep, rocky cliffs loomed and threatened overhead. The pathway ended in a dark, jagged hole in the rock wall that was large enough for all of them to enter with their mounts. The horses seemed to hesitate as they were heeled forward into the darkness.
Once inside, they found themselves in a large cave whose various tunnels seemed to stretch out in all directions, winding deep into the mountain. It was very dark and Chalice noted that there wasn’t a trace of velarium within the cavern walls. Ben dismounted and motioned for the others to do the same.
“Tycho, light your lantern,” he ordered. Tycho tried but his hands were shaking too badly to light the oiled candle inside it. Ben could tell he was nervous. “Here, let me do it,” he said and his stone shone softly. A flame shot up from the wick and the lantern burned brightly. “Bunejab will stay here with you as we go into the mountain. He’ll climb the rock wall just outside and keep watch for unwelcome visitors. We need someone to stay with the horses. Can you do that?”
“Sure. So, what happens if he sees someone?”
“Then come get us immediately.”
“Okay ... uh, Ben ...” he said and paused.
“Yes?”
“What happens if you don’t come back?” he asked soberly. His voice was a little shaky and Chalice and Kirna could tell that the stress was starting to unsteady him.
“We will!” Ben said with steely resolve and Tycho nodded. Then they all handed their reins to him, patting him on the shoulder and Kirna gave him a tight hug.
“We will be back,” she reassured him.
“Kirna, grab your lantern,” Ben commanded and she complied. Lighting it with his stone, he set off down the first tunnel to the right. Chalice, Kirna, and Jeremiah followed. After a few minutes, the tunnel became very wide and wound round in dizzying directions. At a certain point along the path, Chalice felt very strange. It was an achy hollowness that tingled deep within her stomach and throughout her body. Am I getting sick? she wondered. Or is this just nervousness? Am I finally succumbing to the stress like Tycho? Then all the sudden, it stopped and she shrugged it off, continuing down the tunnel with the others. The path sloped upwards, turning into an exhausting climb that seemed to last for hours. Finally, it leveled off and they reached a stone wall. A long, metal bar was set into the stone in front of them, horizontally across the width of a door.
“Jeremiah,” Ben said, “I need your help with this. It’s heavy. I could use my stone, but I want to make sure that we can move it manually, just in case I am not here to close it.”
“I can do it, Ben,” Jeremiah said as he set down the lantern and moved to the door. His muscles strained tensely as he pushed with all his strength. Slowly, the stone slab shifted and opened. They knew immediately that the prisoners were near as the smell of rotting corpses, fetid water and human excrement drifted into the corridor. Nausea gripped Chalice like a vise and she almost vomited. She had never smelled anything like this in her life. It was disgusting and she knew that her people, including her grandparents, were in there. That fueled her anger toward Dar’Maalda even more.
Pinching their noses, they reluctantly entered the corridors of the once-library that was now a series of wrought iron cell blocks holding prisoners. Following Ben’s lead, they walked along the passageways looking for anyone familiar. Mostly they saw ghostly shadows in dark corners of the cells where the light from the torches that dotted the prison walls did not reach. They recognized no one.
“Good Lord!” Ben said in revulsion. “This place has completely changed. These cells used to be nooks that held bookcases and desks. Now look at them.”
Suddenly, a male voice issued from the darkness. “Jeremiah?” Jeremiah halted and turned the lantern to the right as Ben continued on down the corridor and around the corner.
“Toby? Is it you? We found you!” he exclaimed when he saw his best friend who had approached the bars. Jeremiah could faintly see figures shuffling in the darkness behind him and heard someone cough softly. Tobias looked ghastly. He was wearing dirty brown trousers and a torn cotton shirt. His eyes looked like dark holes sunken into his sallow face. Under normal conditions, Tobias was tall, strong and healthy, but now he appeared much thinner and malnourished, as though he had lost a lot of weight in a very short period of time. “What have they done to you?” Jeremiah asked sadly, shaking his head.
“You don’t want to know,” Tobias replied. “Mostly they have just been working us to death, literally.” He paused and then said: “Jer, how did you get in here? Do you know ...” he cut off just then as Chalice stepped into the light.
“Toby, this is Chalice,” Jeremiah said, introducing them and handing the lantern to her. Then he fidgeted with the lock on the cell door.
“Do you know that they are looking for you two. They have your pictures,” Toby warned.
“We know,” Jeremiah said as he and Chalice nodded. 
“Then what are you doing here?! Are you crazy?! If they catch you ...”
“They’re not going to catch us!” Jeremiah interrupted him. “We came to get you all out of here.”
“How? There’s no way out!”
“Yes, there is,” Ben’s voice echoed down the corridor as he turned around the corner to join them again. “We are going out the same way we came in.”
“Toby, this is Ben Graeystone,” Jeremiah said. “He ...”
“You all need to leave now!” Toby interrupted. “There is ...” His words were cut off as a noise issued from the corner where Ben had just been. He pivoted around and saw the dark figure of a man emerge. Before the man could react, however, an arrow whistled past Ben and drove into the man’s chest, the force of it knocking him back toward the wall. A loud crack and a thud resounded in the chamber. Then the figure lay motionless.
“... a guard,” Tobias finished as he glanced over at Jeremiah who was holding his bow.
“Ardenne was right about those bows,” Chalice said in amazement as Jeremiah re-strapped it to his back.
“Are there any more of them?” Ben asked as he pointed to the unconscious man on the floor.
“No, not down here,” Tobias shook his head. “They don’t like to come down here. They work in shifts and the next shift is in a couple of hours”
“Alright, I will keep an eye out for the next one. In the meantime, we need to start getting everyone out. Do you know where they keep the keys?”
“No, they are locked away somewhere and the only person who knows is right there,” Tobias said, pointing to the guard on the ground.
 “Wonderful!” Ben replied, frustrated. “Alright, I will have to open the cell doors myself. When I do, proceed quietly out and down the corridor to the end. Take a left and then the first right. A secret doorway at the end of that hallway is open. Enter it but tread carefully. The passageway is dark and very steep in some places.” Tobias nodded and Ben’s stone glowed a soft grey. The lock clicked and dark figures within the cell swam into view as they made their way toward the door. They looked like the dead walking. A pretty young woman with disheveled red hair walked up in a dirty, torn country dress. She was shivering and coughing.
“Seychelle! What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Jeremiah asked and she nodded.
“She has a fever,” Tobias said. “There are many down here who have fallen ill. Some have died. The Draaquans just leave them down here. They don’t care.”
Ben’s face contorted with rage and disgust. “Alright, those who are well will have to help those who are sick. Leave the dead. There is no time to take them. We need to move quickly in order to get everyone out before daybreak. Those of you who are not helping someone who is sick, grab a torch from the wall if you can. We will need the light.”
At this point, prisoners in nearby cells began rising and approaching the edge, holding onto the bars. A low murmur echoed down the corridor as Ben tried to silence them.
“Ben, you know, it’s going to be very difficult for them to make it to the docks. It’s far, even on horseback,” Chalice said.
“We have to try, Chalice,” he replied. “Even if we lose some along the way, we still have to try.”
She nodded and handed the lantern back to Jeremiah. Rushing into the cell, she took off her lambskin cloak and wrapped it around the young woman. “Here, this will keep you warm,” she said. “I’m Chalice.”
“Thank you, Chalice,” the young woman said weakly. “I’m Seychelle, Toby’s fiancee”
“Fiancee?!” Jeremiah exclaimed and whipped his head around toward Tobias with a wry smile. “You finally proposed. By the way, you picked a really romantic setting!” he said sarcastically.
“Well, we thought it was the end,” Tobias replied. “But, hey, at least I was dating.”
He said it in such a way that it made Chalice turn toward the two. “What do you mean? Jeremiah has never dated anyone?” She looked over at him and his face was flushed with color as he shook his head. 
“Everyone, we don’t have time for this. Save it for later,” Ben said in exasperation. 
But they weren’t listening. Chalice thought it was odd that Jeremiah wasn’t meeting her eyes. Instead, he turned his head to glance around at the others who were coming out of the cell.
“Toby, where’s Aemis?” he asked.
“They took him.”
“What? Why?”
“They wanted him to show them how to make his powder.”
“His invention you mean? The skyfire?” Jeremiah asked and Tobias nodded. “Why?”
“Because of what it does. It explodes into super hot, multi-colored fire. Aemis originally made it for festivals but with it, they want to make ...”
“A weapon,” Ben interrupted soberly, nodding his head. “Of course!”
“So, it actually works?” Jeremiah asked, surprised.
“Yeah, you bet it does! He was showing us when the Draaquans invaded the village and they saw it. So they have been trying to get him to make it for them ever since. Either he can’t recreate it or he is pretending that he can’t. In any case, they finally became angry and threatened him. I fear they may have taken him away for the last time.”
“Where?”
“Those who are chosen to be ‘disciplined’ are taken to something called the chamber. They don’t come back. I overheard the guard say that it is in the watchtower. He has the key in his pocket.”
Ben groaned. “The watchtower is all the way on the other side of the fortress, Jeremiah. We don’t have time!”
“But Ben, he is my best friend!” Jeremiah pleaded. “Also, if they succeed in forcing it out of him, we could be giving them a potentially powerful weapon. That’s not a good idea.”
Ben paused and nodded. “You’re right. Alright. Kirna, Chalice and I will stay here and guide everyone out while you go get your friend.”
“He’s not going alone!” Chalice protested. “I’m going with him.”
“No,” Ben responded. “You’re staying here.”
“No, I’m not. You don’t understand, Ben. I’m not going to let him go by himself. If Aemis is alive, he may be hurt and Jeremiah will need my help.”
“I will watch out for her,” Jeremiah promised.
Ben scowled when he realized that Chalice was not going to obey. “Stubborn girl,” he growled but conceded all the same, shaking his head. “Alright, Kirna and I will stay. We will try to free as many as we can but we may not be able to get everybody. There are more prisoners here than just your villagers.” Chalice looked anxiously at Ben and he knew that she was worried about her grandparents. “I will try to get everybody, Chalice!” he said and turned back to Jeremiah. “To find your friend, this is where you will need to go.” Ben pulled out the diagram of Chainbridge that he had in his pocket and handed it to Jeremiah. Then he showed them the direction to the watchtower. “You are less likely to be seen if you go this way. These halls are rarely used, at least, they were. They may still be. Take the lantern with you, it will be very dark.”
“There are Draaquans who man the walls at night, Jer. So be on the lookout,” Tobias warned. 
“Yes, be extremely careful,” Ben said and was already moving down the corridor, opening the locked cells and giving instructions. Kirna, who was holding the other lantern, was directing the slow stream of people to the hidden door.
“Jer ...” Tobias added. “The rounds of the night watchmen are predictable. If you time it just right, they won’t see you.”
“Okay, thanks Toby!” Jeremiah replied, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Chalice and I can handle it. You and Seychelle just get yourselves out as soon as possible!” Tobias nodded and placed his arm around his fiancee as they joined the line of escaping prisoners.
Jeremiah walked over to the fallen guard and rifled through his pockets. Removing a large, wrought iron key, he turned to Chalice, the light of the lamp illuminating the right side of his face. “You ready to go into the lion’s den?” he asked.
She looked into his eyes and saw no fear. “I’m ready if you are,” she said, bravely.
“Okay, stay behind me.”
“But I want to go first.”
“No, you stay behind me!” he said sternly and she didn’t argue. She knew that if she pushed it, he would make her stay in the dungeon with Ben and Kirna.
They rushed past the crowd and into the corridor that led to an ascending stairwell. The stairs were steep and were broken into sections, each section divided by a long, flat step that allowed some respite from the grueling climb. At the top, they took a sharp right, into a corridor that led to the path that Ben had shown them. It took forever to cross to the other side of the fortress but they finally reached the last ascending staircase that led out into the courtyard of the watchtower. Before they got to the last step, Jeremiah set down the lantern, pushing it aside, and slowly opened the wooden door. Silently, they crept along a small hallway until they reached the corner, around which Jeremiah peeked.
He turned back to her and whispered: “Chalice, ghost in the graveyard. 3 o’clock.”
She knew what he meant. It was from a game they played as children. The person who was the ghost hid from the others as they left the base to search. As soon as the ghost was spotted, everyone yelled: “ghost in the graveyard!” and had to scramble back to the base without being tagged. If you were tagged, you became the ghost. A fitting analogy! she thought. If I were tagged here, I would become a ghost.
She waited as Jeremiah watched. After a few minutes, he turned to her and whispered again: “The guard walks the wall back and forth and then disappears behind the tower. After a few minutes, he reappears. We can make it to the tower door after his next round. I’ll let you know when.” 
She nodded and they waited. Finally, he motioned for her to follow and they silently sneaked out of the corridor. Stealing down the length of the courtyard, Chalice could see metal weapons of every kind and size hanging on hooks along the walls. Light from the torches glinted off the sharp metal and she shivered. What do they do with those? she wondered but did not want to think about it. Finally, they made it to the tower door and Jeremiah quickly removed the key from his pocket. He unlocked it and turned the handle slowly.
They jumped in and quickly shut the door behind them. Chalice could feel it immediately. It was a darkness that sunk deep into her heart and sucked the life out of her, filling her with dread and despair. 
“You feel that, Jeremiah?” she whispered.
“Yeah, I do,” he replied.
It was same feeling she had had when she had touched the red falcon at Cedarwood. What in the world was this? she wondered to herself as they turned around and saw it. It must have been what Tobias had called the chamber. It sat in the middle of the enormous round room like a plague. It was huge, black and wrought iron with a circular door in the front. A wrought iron staircase behind it spiraled up to the floors above, where they could hear footsteps of men enjoying drink and entertainment. A large wooden table topped with strange instruments sat to its left. As they studied the room, a faint groan from the right caught their attention and they looked over. It was Aemis, in a broken, crumpled heap on the floor. He was dirty and his hands and feet were bound with rope.
They scurried over quietly and bent down. Chalice removed her obsidian dagger from its sheath on the belt that Ardenne had given her, and cut his bonds, freeing his hands and feet. Then they rolled him over. He looked very much like Jeremiah had in the forest clearing that day when they were saved by the Quaie’Miren. Chalice almost growled in anger but restrained herself. After all, he was still alive. He was in bad shape but he was still alive.
“Jeremiah?” he whispered. “Is it really you? Or is this a dream?”
“Shhh, no, it’s me Aemis. We’ve come to get you,” Jeremiah said as Aemis face lit up with what appeared to be a touch of hope. 
“Hi, I’m Chalice,” she introduced herself. “Can you walk?” she asked.
He shook his head. “My right leg is broken.”
Jeremiah looked at her. “We will have to carry him,” he said and she nodded. They stood, pulling him from the floor and propping him up under both shoulders.
“Okay, Aemis, just like the three-legged race at home, with your left leg, step in tandem with my right.”
“I’ll try,” he said and they fumbled to the door. They opened it, peeked out, and found the guard. The cloud covered moon glowed behind him as he strode behind the tower wall and disappeared.
“Now!” Jeremiah whispered. Shutting the door behind them, they scrambled for the corridor from which they had just come.
Turning the corner into the hallway, Aemis groaned. “My firestick! I forgot it! It’s on that table in there.”
“You mean you made one for them?”
“They were going to put me in that chamber, Jer. I’m sorry! I finally gave in. I didn’t want to go in there. When they put you in there, you don’t come back out.”
“Don’t worry about it, Aemis,” Jeremiah reassured him. “What does it look like?”
“It’s a tubular object with a string at the end.”
“I’ll get it,” Chalice said.
“Chalice, no ...” Jeremiah whispered frantically but before he could stop her, she had released Aemis and was speeding back to the door, re-entering the round room.
She ran swiftly to the table and found it immediately. It was the only object fitting the description. It was made of a coarse, strong paper material, topped with a cone. At the other end was, just as Aemis had said, a long string that dangled from a small hole. A wooden stick was glued to the side and stretched out as long as the string, creating a kind of handle. Interesting! she thought and tucked it behind her belt. Then she made for the door and peered out.
The guard was gone. She darted out and made for the corner where Jeremiah and Aemis were waiting. But before she could make it, suddenly, five dark shapes appeared all around her. They had silently dropped down from the floor above like phantoms and landed on the ground, caging her in. She froze as she realized where she was and what was happening. She turned her head slightly and out of the corner of her eye she could see who they were, but she had already known. Draaquans. Three of them, she knew. The other two she didn’t recognize and their eyes gleamed sinisterly with only one intention. Her heart beat uncontrollably and sweat beaded her brow. She didn’t know what would happen to her but she did know one thing. She would die first before she let them catch her. I will not be caught again! she swore silently to herself. 
Then suddenly, blessedly, she felt it. She couldn’t believe it. After all this time, after all the training, after all the pain, sweat and tears, it had finally come to her. The Na’Veda. Time stood still and she became aware of the world as if her whole being enveloped her surroundings. She could sense everything, from the fly buzzing on the east wall, to the sharp dagger hanging from a hook on the west wall, to the Draaquan manning the north wall, who had just reappeared from behind the tower, nocked an arrow and loosed it in her direction. It hung in midair while she held time in her hands. She could feel the fabric of time and space as it moved through her. She could control it, slowing it and sensing events before they happened. Strangely, in the back of her mind, she could faintly see a blue, pulsating gem, as if in her dreams. Then she moved through the forms that she had been taught and timed her motions accordingly. 
The men had no idea what they were facing. Rhaene stood directly opposite her, a few paces away and Nerrick stood to his left, unsheathing a belt knife. The arrow in the air was aimed directly at her heart and she could feel the invisible shield that Rhaene was intending to form around her. She knew exactly where it would be. She bolted for him and sprang toward the shield. The arrow flew right past her, ricocheted off her shoulder and changed direction slightly. Instead of piercing her heart, it pierced the heart of the unknown Draaquan to her left. She bounded off the shield, backflipped, and came down on the shoulders of the one behind her. Clutching his neck in between her legs, she squeezed as hard as she could, cutting off his windpipe. While he was choking, the knife that Nerrick had let fly through the air toward her missed and struck the man below her in the chest. As she drove him to the ground, she saw the sword of the third behind her being unsheathed before it was flung at her back. It was Jaden. 
She rolled off the Draaquan and fell to the right. Flying end over end, the sword passed through the invisible shield that was no longer there, to plant itself forcefully into Nerrick’s chest. He opened his mouth in a soundless yell as blood spewed out. She could sense the fire building in Rhaene, the fire that he wanted to throw at her to force her back into Jaden. She could see it before he kindled it. Faster than thought, she slid into Jaden’s legs, flipped over and drove her right leg into the back of his knees. He buckled and fell forward. Before the fire came, she rolled away at lightning speed and Rhaene’s flame rained down upon him, cooking him and melting his metal armor. He screamed as he sizzled and smoked and Rhaene looked on in horror as his brother died. Then Chalice stood and glared at him. He held a calculating look, wary and suspicious. He couldn’t understand how she could move that fast. He didn’t even see her. How could she be in one place at one time, and then the next moment be in another, paces away? He was perplexed but still enraged. To his surprise, after having just witnessed three of his comrades, and his brother, die within a matter of seconds, he was not about to go near her. Instead, he circled her, cautiously, like a wolf.
“Hello, Rhaene!” she taunted him, smiling.
“I thought you might come,” he growled. “It was a mistake.”
“You mean, what Nerrick said was a mistake? Yes, he was wrong. I am still alive, and this ...” she said motioning to the dead men on the ground, “... this is what happens to those who threaten my people. You can tell that to your precious Fierain, that is, if you live, and if you walk away now, I might just let you.” 
And at that, his temper exploded and his stone glowed brightly. The fusillade of fire blasts, sound explosions, and weapons that were flung at her were overwhelming. He was trying to trap her again in a shield but she managed to dodge each attempt, moving out of the way just in time. The path of a spear, she misjudged, and it nicked her right ear. She reached up to touch the wound and her fingers came away wet with blood. He smiled and continued. In his rage and through the torrent of weapons flying through the air, he failed to see the dagger that was hanging on the west wall behind her, as he flung it in the air. She stepped into its path, blocking it from his view. Remaining calm and peering into his eyes, she ducked to the ground. It flew through the air over her, toward him, lodging itself firmly into his neck. He grabbed at his throat with both hands and choked, falling to his knees, blood gushing through his fingers. Suddenly the fire and explosions ceased and the weapons that seemed to be hanging in midair, dropped to the stone floor with a loud clang. She got up and walked over to him as he was dying. He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe what was happening to him. She placed her foot on his chest and pushed him down. With a loud thump, he fell backwards.
“I told you,” she said, shaking her head. “You didn’t listen.” 
Then he took his last rasping breath and was dead, eyes glazed, still staring up at her. Suddenly, she felt very tired and could barely keep herself from swaying with fatigue. Then it occurred to her that she had totally forgotten the Draaquan on the wall. Spinning around she found him on the ground of the courtyard, slumped over the side of a brandy barrel with an arrow through his gut. She glanced at the corner and saw Jeremiah, holding his bow, and Aemis, almost on his knees, clutching the side of the wall for support. With mouths opened wide, they were both gaping.
“Good shootin’ Jeremiah!” she said.
He blinked. “Uh ... thanks,” he replied as he and Aemis just stared at her, speechless. Jeremiah looked as if he had just met her. His expression brought back the memory that Chalice had of him that night in his father’s study. Who are you? he had asked.
“You ... you just took out five Draaquans!” Aemis exclaimed incredulously, and she nodded as she scurried up to help him. “Holy crap! How the heck did you do that?! Where did you learn to fight like that?”
“I learned it growing up in Canton. It’s called, ‘Rui D’Iel Maene Nue.’”
“What does that mean?” Jeremiah asked curiously as he and Chalice threw Aemis’ arms around their shoulders and picked him up. Chalice used her left shoulder, as her right was sore and wet with blood again. In the fight, her wound had re-opened.
“It means, ‘way of the empty hand.’ We do not use weapons when we fight. Our hands and feet are good enough.”
“You know, the next time I’m in a tight spot, I want you with me, okay Chalice?” Aemis asked eagerly.
She laughed. “Okay, Aemis.”
“Why? You plan on getting into trouble again sometime soon?” Jeremiah asked.
“Well, you know me,” Aemis said.
“Yes, I do!” Jeremiah responded with a wry smile as they raced down the corridor as fast as their legs would carry them. Chalice still felt unusually tired but she shrugged it off and kept going. She had to. They could hear the warning bells as the castle stirred from its slumber. One of the men had triggered an alarm and in a few moments, Chalice estimated, there would be many more men swarming around the fortress looking for them. 
“Let’s get out of here,” Jeremiah said.
“Good idea!” she responded as they opened the door, grabbed the lantern, and sped down the staircase. When they arrived at the bottom, they could hear the tower bells above, resounding in the night air as the fortress came alive with shouts and movement. Miraculously, Ben had been right about the pathway that he had suggested. They met no one along the way to the other end of the fortress. It wasn’t until the last corridor that led to the stairwell of the prison that they were spotted. Suddenly, angry shouts resounded in a hallway to their right as they passed. Chalice whipped her head around and saw a huge group of men speeding in their direction. As quickly as they could, they careened around the corner into the stairwell and made what Chalice thought was the fastest three-legged descent of her life. It took the Draaquans a moment to discover where they had gone as none of them expected that they would head for the prison. This allowed them valuable time to gain a head start down the stairwell. Despite it, though, as they reached the end and entered the prison, the men had gained and were almost upon them.
Chalice stopped and looked back. She was breathing hard and her heart beat frantically.
“What are you doing, Chalice? Come on!” Jeremiah shouted.
“No, Jeremiah, they are too close!” she said in a panic. “They will reach us before we get to the door.”
She looked down and discovered that her hand was holding Aemis’ firestick. Then it suddenly occurred to her what she needed to do. She ripped the stick out from her belt and held it up.
“Aemis, how does this work?” she asked.
“Set it in the direction you want it to fly and light the end of the string.”
Swiftly, she grabbed the candle from the lantern and bolted to the first section of the staircase. She could hear the pounding of Draaquan boots getting closer. It sounded like an army marching to war. Holding the firestick with the wooden stem, she placed it on the step in front of her, lit the string and fire sizzled all the way up to the base of the tube. Then it suddenly shot from her hand, the wood burning her palm, and flew up the stairwell toward the men, with incredible speed and accuracy. She marveled at Aemis’ talent as she watched it go. At that moment, the first Draaquan emerged from the darkness into the torchlight at the top of the last section and glared at her.
“Chalice, get back here, quickly!” Aemis yelled in warning and then she felt Jeremiah’s strong hand seize her left arm and yank her off her feet, back behind the corner. She ducked behind them on the ground and replaced the candle. 
A furious explosion shattered the air and they covered their heads as multi-colored light from the passageway blasted out of the stairwell and into the prison in a searing hot mass of dust and broken bits of stone. The fortress shook and rumbled loudly as huge blocks of rock fell, collapsing the stairwell right where the Draaquans had been. They heard men screaming in pain and raging curses echoed down the now-blocked hallway. Chalice stood up and walked over to the bottom of the staircase, peering up into the dust.
“Wow, Aemis! That really works!” she said, coughing loudly. “That should hold them off for a while.”
“Well done, Chalice! That was satisfying,” Aemis said in a vengeful tone.
“Well done to you, dude!” Jeremiah said proudly to his friend, as he rose to his feet. “That was your invention!”
“Well, it wasn’t meant to be a weapon, but ... given the circumstances ...” Aemis added, attempting to stand up. 
Chalice ran over and helped Jeremiah pull Aemis from the floor. Then they continued down the prison corridor to the doorway. As she glanced around, Chalice could see that the cells were empty and she hoped that Ben and Kirna had gotten all of the prisoners into the passage before the alarm had sounded. Finally, turning the last corner, they saw Kirna standing in the opening with a lantern.
“Oh, thank heaven!” she said, exasperated. “That explosion! What was it?”
“That was Aemis’ firestick,” Chalice replied, laughing. “We managed to stop them with their own weapon.”
“Right on!” Kirna laughed and stepped back as they rushed into the passage, Jeremiah pulling the door shut.
“Where’s Ben?” he asked, as two men that he didn’t recognize approached them to offer a hand with Aemis.
“He is at the front of the queue,” Kirna replied. “He is leading them. He told me to stay back and wait for you. We managed to get everyone but there are many who are really sick,” she said, shaking her head. “Chalice, I don’t think they are going to make it to the ships.”
“Well, like Ben said, we have to try,” Chalice said and sprang into a run along the line of people. Kirna and Jeremiah followed swiftly after her. As they descended the long tunnel, they passed what seemed like hundreds of people, all of them filthy and unkempt men, women, and children. Kirna was right. Many of them were very sick. One woman, Chalice noted, appeared to be clutching a dead baby to her breast. Apparently, she hadn’t wanted to leave it behind. How heartbreaking! she thought as she ran. 
It took forever to reach the end of the line and by that time, they were close to the bottom near the exit out of the mountain. Suddenly, they heard the clop of horse hooves and saw Tycho standing there in the tunnel, talking to Ben with Bunejab right next to him.
“There are large groups of riders out there, Ben,” he was saying with a worried expression. “Bunejab said that they appear to be looking for something and they are close to the gorge.”
“How many?” Ben asked.
“Hundreds!” Tycho said, shaking his head in dismay. “It’s only a matter of time before they find the entrance.”
Ben looked troubled. “We won’t be able to get all these people past them either. There is no way!” he said, shaking his head. “Curse it! We’re trapped!” he snarled in frustration.
“What are we going to do?” Kirna asked, her voice trembling with fear, and Ben turned around to look at her.
“You’re back! Good.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “What are we going to do? I don’t know. Let me think,” he said worriedly and they all stood there, terrified and speechless. They had been relying on him and if Ben didn’t know what to do, that meant it was over. They were caught.
Chalice was starting to feel the nervous sickness again that she had felt when they had first passed this section of the tunnel. She placed her hand on her stomach, and the other she placed on the wall to steady herself as she closed her eyes and hung her head.
Jeremiah held her shoulder gently. “You alright?” he asked softly.
Then, suddenly, she knew. She looked up at the wall and removed her hand. Ignoring his question and ignoring the murmurs of everyone around her, she began kicking it violently, as hard as she could.
“Chalice, there is no use kicking the wall,” Tycho said forlornly. “It’s not going to help and you’re just going to hurt yourself.” The tone of his voice implied that he had given up.
“Chalice, what are you doing?” Jeremiah asked calmly. He was concerned that she was cracking under the pressure and losing control.
“I feel something!” she cried loudly. “I feel something, right here! I felt it when we passed by this spot coming in. It’s this way.”
“What way?” he asked. “There is nothing but a wall.” He looked at her as if he thought she had lost her mind. Then all the sudden the wall cracked where she had been pounding it with her foot and they could hear the noise echo down a large, hollow cavity behind the stone. They all stood there, frozen.
“She’s got a powerful kick!” Ben remarked to Jeremiah, a hint of hope in his voice.
“Umm ... yeah,” Jeremiah said wryly. “Just don’t ever try to sneak up on her. Trust me.” The memory of having been sent flying across his father’s study still itched in his mind. Chalice continued kicking at the wall with all the force she had left. She was exhausted and Ben could see it.
“Stand back, Chalice,” he ordered, placing his hand on her shoulder, and she did. They all did. Then he held his palm to the cracked wall as his daieoden gleamed with light. Suddenly, the stone blocks burst outwards, tumbling into the wide cavern that lay on the other side. Kirna and Tycho had to calm the horses, who jumped and danced around, terrified by the explosion. Jeremiah moved the lantern toward the opening and shed light onto the dirt floor of the passageway that stretched out before them. It sloped gently downward into darkness.
“Look at that!” Ben exclaimed with a jolt of surprised excitement.
“Good job, Chalice!” Kirna burst out, putting her arm around her best friend but Chalice didn’t respond. She had a crazed look in her eye as she grabbed the lantern from Jeremiah and darted through the doorway.
“Wait!” Ben cautioned but she didn’t listen. “Reckless girl!” he growled. “She plunges ahead into the unknown, without a care that she might get hurt!”
“I agree with you!” Jeremiah said in exasperation, as he jumped after her. Ben stayed where he was, motioning the others not to follow them. A few moments passed and they heard Jeremiah’s shout resound in the chamber below.
“Uh, Ben, you may want to come down here and bring everyone with you. There’s plenty of room.”
“Alright, we’re coming!” Ben shouted back. Turning to Kirna, he said: “Kirna, you take them down. I will stay back and usher them through. Once we have everybody, I will need to seal this hole in the wall. Hopefully we can do this before we are discovered.”
Kirna nodded and let Tycho, Bunejab, and the horses go first. Then she motioned to the people in line and they began to follow her carefully down the dirt path. A few spans down, the path became murky, wet and cold. They rounded the huge rock wall and suddenly found themselves in an enormous cavern through which a large stream flowed, pooling into a small pond in the middle. Huge stalactites and stalagmites jutted out from the ceiling and the floor. Some were so big that they met in the middle and formed columns, but that wasn’t what awed them. What held their attention were the glowing, multi-colored gems of all shapes and sizes strewn along the bank and under the surface of the pond and stream. The rushing water shot shimmers of light from the stones, giving the rock walls a pearlescent glow. Kirna looked over and found Chalice slowly crossing the stream, waist deep in water. Jeremiah was with her, holding her steady, to keep her from being pulled under by the force of the current.
“What are they doing?” someone in the crowd asked but Kirna knew and she hushed the crowd.
It took a long time but Chalice and Jeremiah finally reached the other side of the water, where everyone saw what she was after. She bent down toward a beautiful, pulsating gem and removed it from the bank of the stream. She was wet and dirty but she didn’t care. The gem looked like a sapphire that had been finely cut into the shape of a tear drop. It was bright blue and sparkled on every side. She dipped it into the water to wash off the flecks of mud that covered it, then lifted it in her palm and held it in front of her face. Her eyes gleamed as blue light from her stone rose and fell, pulsing with the beat of her heart and illuminating everything around it. Then she suddenly realized the part of her that had been missing her whole life, that she hadn’t even known until now. It was almost as if it was a vital organ inside of her that she couldn’t live without. She could feel its very being within her and she knew now what Ben meant when he had said: For reasons I will teach you later, they cannot live without their daieoden. She kneeled there, motionless, Jeremiah at her side, mesmerized by this huge part of her that she had been living without for so long.
“What is it?” a woman asked.
“It’s her daieoden,” Kirna responded.
“It’s what?”
“Her stone,” she said. “She is Terravailian.” And then Kirna suddenly understood how different she and her best friend were from each other. The fact hadn’t really occurred to her before now.
“She found it,” a deep voice issued from behind her, sighing. Kirna turned and saw Ben standing behind her. He had just walked up with Bunejab.
“Is everyone in?” she asked.
“Yes, but ...” he broke off when a man yelled from the darkness.
“I found something!”
Ben turned his head abruptly in the direction of the man’s voice and shouted: “What is it?”
“I don’t know. It’s some kind of door, I think.”
He bolted toward the man and Kirna and Bunejab followed. Tycho just stood there with the horses, watching, as Jeremiah and Chalice, having risen from the bank of the stream, made their way back across the water.
As Ben ran up, he saw immediately what the man had found. It was a huge doorway, outlined in a silvery vein that formed an intricate pattern. A small circle was located to its immediate right.
“Stand back,” he said and placed his palm on the circle. 
“Are you going to blow up the wall again?” Tycho asked.
“No,” Ben replied as the outline of the doorway glowed brightly and the doors pushed open to loud gasps of astonishment. Cool air blew past everyone and rushed into the darkness. Then Ben stepped in and placed his palm on the inner wall. They all gaped as the enormous room within lit up blindingly.
“It’s here!” Ben said, shaking his head in disbelief. “It has been here the whole time, right under my nose. We finally found it.”
“Found what?” Kirna asked.
“The lost city of Barenthren.”




Chapter 20
The Lost City of Barenthren

“It’s beautiful!” Kirna exclaimed.
The cavernous dome before them stretched far up into the mountain with an immense, thick column of stone supporting it in the center. A spiraling staircase, hewn into the column’s surface, led up the dome and disappeared into the darkness above where the walls were not lit. Along its length, stone bridges extended to tunnel doorways that dotted the brilliantly glowing walls, giving access to other parts of the city. From the entrance, a stone pathway led to a bubbling, golden fountain that sprayed clear water in rivulets, splashing down into a pool at its base. The pathway connected with others that spread in various directions. In between them, soft grass grew quietly underneath green, leafy canopies of trees.
“We’re saved,” Ben said softly under his breath and let out a sigh of relief. Then he motioned everyone to enter.
They led the horses in first. Then people began pouring through the doorway in droves, resting themselves in the shady areas of the grass and staring around numbly as if they couldn’t believe their eyes. Cries of joy could be heard as families and friends were reunited with one another in tearful embraces. Bunejab, who had been next to Ben the whole time, immediately set to work gathering water from the fountain and treating the sick. Children approached him warily, taken aback by the sight of the little Chinuk and when he spoke to them, they giggled and ran away.
“What is that?” Kirna asked Ben, as they stood there and ushered people by the door. She was pointing to the enormous column in the dome’s center.
“It is called the Toros Komun. It is the supporting column of every underground city. Without it, the city would crumble. Although, Barenthren’s column is slightly different than the others I have seen. It’s taller and thinner.”
“How do you know we are in Barenthren?”
“The wellspring fountain. You see the requin?” He pointed.
She studied the water spouts and sure enough, it was sculpted in the same fashion as the bowsprit of the Morning Dawn. “Oh, like on the Quaie’Miren ship,” she said.
“Yes. That is the Requin Fountain, the wellspring of Barenthren. That is how I know.”
At that moment, Chalice walked up with Jeremiah behind her, placing her stone into her belt pouch. “Barenthren. Yeah, I saw the name on the map.” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them and she winced. Oops! she thought.
Ben stared at her in surprise. “What map? Where did you see that name?”
“Um ... I have something to tell you,” she said as he shot her a reproachful glare. She had the impression that he already knew.
“You went sneaking around the Farahs’ castle, didn’t you?” he said knowingly and she gave him a sheepish look. “Alright, we’ll talk about this later,” he continued, “Not now. We need to get everyone settled in first. Then we need to find the green room.”
“Ben,” Jeremiah cut in, “Aemis has a broken leg. Can you ...” He began but Ben quickly interrupted him.
“Show me where he is,” he said. “Chalice, you and Kirna stay here and shut the door after everyone passes through.”
“Okay,” she said and then suddenly remembered the trouble she had had with the vellen in the Chinukan village. Before she could say anything, however, Ben and Jeremiah had already spotted Aemis propped up against the base of a tree and were making their way over to him. He was in a small group with Tobias, Seychelle and what appeared to be Jeremiah’s brothers by the look of them. Jeremiah had found his friends and family so quickly, Chalice thought, and she wondered where her grandparents were. Standing there at the entrance, she kept an eye out but she didn’t see them, nor did she see anyone from her village. They must have already passed through, she thought. There were so many people, she couldn’t spot them anywhere. So she made a mental note to look for them later. 
After the last group entered, she moved to place her hand on the vella and stopped. Just then, as if it had already known what she wanted, the doors immediately began moving inward and the wide gap of darkness outside began to shrink. That’s strange! she thought. Shrugging it off, she turned.
“What am I supposed to do with the horses?” Tycho asked. He was standing off to the right, holding them out of the way of the streaming people.
“Let’s look for a place to put them. There has to be something,” Chalice said as she the took the reins of Banner and Sunny and led them around the Toros Kamun. Kirna and Tycho grabbed the other horses and followed. They stopped at various doors along the way and each time she moved to touch the wall, the door opened before she reached it. It was the strangest thing, she thought. She couldn’t figure it out. Before, she couldn’t get the vellen to work at all but now she didn’t even need to touch them. Weird! she thought.
Finally, they came to a door that opened to the smell of dust, grass and hay. It was, in short, the same smell as the Chinukan stable room that she had been in before. It also had a similar layout except it was much larger, taking up the entire room. Another difference was a stream that ran through the pasture. It flowed in from the left, through a tunnel in the stone next to the fence and out on the other side in the same fashion. Chalice leaned over the fence to peer down the tunnel from which the water flowed and noticed that the trough was a manmade watercourse that purposefully channeled the water into and out of the room. To her surprise, she realized that it had been engineered that way. Opening a door to the left of the fence, she peered into a large room that seemed to be made to hold livestock. She noted that the same stream of water flowed into and out of that room as well. Then she closed the door.
Sighing in relief, she led the horses into the stable, unburdening them of the saddles and bags, which she placed on the stone table in the tack room. As soon as they were released into the pasture, the horses ran, bucking and kicking in play. She remembered how happy Sunny and Banner had been in stable room before and smiled. What a relief it was to be there, away from the dangers that lurked on the land above. After Kirna and Tycho had finished with the other horses, they left the room and saw Ben and Jeremiah approaching.
“How is everyone?” Kirna asked.
“I’ve done everything I can. Bunejab is doing the rest,” Ben responded. “Many of them are extremely malnourished so we need to find the green room soon.”
“The green room?” Tycho asked curiously. “What is that?”
“You’ll see,” Jeremiah said. “It’s pretty cool.”
They searched around, checking each chamber as they went. They found many rooms that had no doors, just archways leading into them, and seemed to have been used as various shops. One was clearly a bakery, with a wide stone oven and utensils for baking. Another was a huge kitchen and dining room combined, large enough to seat and feed a small village. The chamber next to it was a huge round room with a vaulted ceiling and an enormous round swimming pool of hot water located in its center. Tendrils of steam rose from its surface and flowed out of the vents above. Chalice noted that water flowed in and out of the room in the same manner as the stream in the stable room. When she asked why the water was so hot, Ben explained that there must have been a naturally occurring hot spring located nearby. 
Continuing their search, they found a large, oval room that appeared to be a theatre. The stone seats sloped downwards to a stage where plays and musical performances could be held. They didn’t find any musical instruments, however. The only remaining items that could be found were either made of metal, stone, or fireclay, such as the jars and pots that they took with them to fill with food. Everything else had disintegrated into dust, even the mattresses in the apartments. All the stone bed frames were filled with soft sand that had accumulated over the eons that Barenthren had lain abandoned, and thick layers of dust and cobwebs covered almost everything.
Then they discovered doors that opened into strange rooms. One had a tall stone altar in its center. The altar, shaped as a hexagon, was completely flat and bare except for a small, circular basin in the middle. Strange marks and inscriptions were etched into the walls all around it. Another room they found had similar inscriptions cut into the stone and led to a chamber that contained a large sarcophagus. Apparently it was a tomb. Chalice stopped and walked into the vestibule. She recognized one of the markings. It was a circle with five lines extending from its perimeter and connecting in its center. She knew it immediately.
“Ben, why is the star of the Ielierian here?” she asked as she looked around. There were stars all over the walls.
“That is not the star of the Ielierian,” he said and she stared at him. He continued, answering her unasked question: “Well, to us, it is, but when these inscriptions were made, that symbol did not mean the same thing.”
“I don’t follow,” she said, shaking her head.
“Barenthren was one of the cities that was cut off from the underground world after the great quake. After that, the people living here developed separately from the rest of our civilization.” He paused and pointed to the symbol. “You see, this symbol we inherited from the people of the Ancient World. To them, it represented the heavens and the place where souls go after death. That is why you see them in this tomb.” They were all staring at him, listening intently as he continued: “This is the tomb of an ancient king of Barenthren. These texts describe the journey of his soul into the afterlife, a place that they associated with the heavens and the stars. For the ancients, the afterlife was not a place of darkness or death but a place of great light, joy and immortality. They thought that calling people who have passed on ‘the dead’ was a mistake because according their beliefs, the dead are more alive than we are. This antechamber that we are in is a sort of ... chamber of knowledge, if you will. Inscribed on these walls are some the oldest surviving scriptures of the Ancient World, symbols from original manuscripts, which now exist only in fragments. This is knowledge from the ancient traditions of the Golden Age stretching far back beyond our collective memory. It is a link that connects us to the world of our ancestors. We are looking at the legacy of a time long gone, of the people of the Ancient World and of the early Terravail.”
Chalice gasped as a thought came to her. “These stars are very similar to the ones we saw in the astronomy tower.”
“Yes, they are the same, in fact.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
“Because we are not permitted to talk about what is in the underground cities when we leave them. We are made to swear an oath on it.”
“Oh, hmmm ...” That was strange, she thought. “What does this say?” she asked, pointing to a series of inscriptions.
“This part reads, ‘O King, you are gone, but you will return. You are sleeping, but you will wake. You are alive. The tomb is open and the doors of the Gate are drawn back for you. The heavens await you.’” 
Chalice felt a chill down her spine and goosebumps on her arms. The words awakened something within her that had lain dormant for a long time. She had no idea what it was but it was both compelling and terrifying. It stirred within her a sense of duty and was familiar, like a memory that had not yet been made. She pointed to another marking that she recognized. 
“Why is my birthmark here?” she asked, as there was a different set of inscriptions to the right of the passage that Ben had just read. They contained her mark in several places.
“In the Ancient World, that symbol represented a concept that was a combination of enlightenment, wisdom, and knowledge,” he answered. “Today, it means something else.”
“So, both these symbols, they have a different meaning now? They have evolved?”
“Yes, with what we know today through the Readers, they have a completely new meaning.”
“Which is?” she asked.
“Shouldn’t we get going?” Jeremiah interrupted.
“No, Jeremiah, this is important. Please, just be patient,” Ben said and he nodded. “The star of the Ielierian is the symbol for an entity that has no name but has also had many names throughout the ages.” She frowned and he continued: “We call it the Ji.”
“The Ji, what is that?” she asked.
“In their search for knowledge, the early Terravailian Readers, your ancestors, discovered it. It is the source of all things and of all worlds, the source of the entire multiverse. It is the place we come from when we are born and the place we return to when we die. It is also the source from which the avie flows and gives us our power and, as I said before, although we call it the Ji, it is nameless. That is, there is not just one name for it. There cannot be, for all things are born from it, even names. The Ji is the One, or the Omni or Other. Some have also called it God. Throughout time, the sages of the world have had many descriptions for it. There have been those who have attributed human characteristics to it, either by personifying it as one human, a triad of humans, or a pantheon of them. Then there were those who thought it was more abstract and nonhuman, like a great spirit that they attributed to the land or the sky.”
“So they were all wrong then.”
“Well, you might say that. They were all wrong, but then again, they were all right, as well. You see, the Ji will assume the form of whatever a person believes, whatever they are most familiar with or understand, and that is what they will experience when they die.” 
“That’s convenient,” she said, not really knowing how to respond. “But what if you don’t believe in any particular one of those descriptions, like us?” 
“Ah, that is the question isn’t it? We are lucky. We know that the Ji is not describable by language, so we have more control over what we will experience when we return to it. We will make our own heaven, or if we choose to, come back into this world or go into other worlds. It was a difficult concept for people to grasp because many needed to view reality as something solid, something on the exterior, outside of themselves. They felt the need to have something ‘real’ to hold onto. They didn’t realize that the true reality is inside you.”
“But what if you believe that when you die, you cease to exist and you become nothing?”
“Chalice, think logically about that question for a moment. How can you become nothing?” 
“Hmmm,” she said in thought, “I’m not sure.” 
“It’s not possible because there is always something. There is always the Ji. Those who believe in nothing after death are confusing their experiences in the physical world with that of the spiritual world. If we lose our connection to others, or our connection to the land, we feel alone, or cut off, and our souls experience that which we call the nothingness, or the emptiness. This feeling is the result of our spirit, which is profoundly connected to the Ji, experiencing what it is like to be temporarily lost from that to which it belongs. When a person who believes in nothing returns, they are quickly disabused of this notion of nothingness. Does that make sense?” 
“Hmmm, kind of,” she said but still looked a bit confused. “You keep saying multiverse and talking about other worlds. I don’t understand what the multiverse is.”
“The multiverse is the word we use for the synthesis of all worlds that are created by the Ji. You see, from it flows the intelligence that we call life, or the avie, as I said. This intelligence condenses and forms the elements that create our multiverse. From it streams the magic that allows your soul to manifest into this world. Therefore, it is the source of all things and of all worlds. Eons ago, the ancients called our multiverse, the universe, or the One World, since our physical world here was the only one they could see visually, looking out into the stars at night. Thanks to Raegalia’s discovery, we now know that there are a countless number of other ‘universes’, other physical worlds that exist inter-dimensionally right next to ours. Before the Ice Age, the ancients were beginning to wrap their minds around this concept and understand it mathematically, but they had no means of proving it through their own methods. They did not have what we do now, which is the insight of the Terravail.”
“I don’t get it. How do the Readers know this?”
“Because there is a world that connects all the physical worlds together. It runs through all of them and binds them to the Ji. We call it the True World or the World of the Sylphen. This is the symbol for it,” he said as he pointed to her birthmark on the wall.
“But that’s my mark! Wait a minute ...” she said as her brows furrowed in thought.
“Exactly. Now you are beginning to see. This is why this conversation is important. You need to understand what your title means. You see, you are not the Raie’Chaelia because you have a rightful claim to your father’s throne. If that were the case, both your sisters could claim the same thing. No. You are the True Princess because you are connected to this world somehow and what that connection is, we have yet to discover. A part of it, I believe, has already been revealed.”
“Which is?” she asked.
“Your telepathic abilities,” he replied.
“I don’t understand.”
“I mentioned that the True World is also called the World of the Sylphen because there are beings in the True World that can communicate mentally with those in the physical worlds. We call them the sylphen. They are the ones who make telepathic communication possible. They tell us information of happenings in the present, remind us of mistakes we have made, and warn us of things to come. They can guide events and keep a record of history through the collective conscience and memory of humans. The Terravail, like you, have special ways to contact them but all humans, in every race, have a link to them through their connection to the land. The ancients could feel the sylphen as well but they didn’t know what they were sensing. They had a word for it but since this ability didn’t fit the criteria for their particular type of knowledge, given that they placed their faith only into that which they could physically observe, any claim to it wasn’t considered true knowledge or true insight. So they scoffed at it and ridiculed it.”
“Oh, I see.” She paused in thought. She had always believed that the people of the Ancient World were so intelligent and enlightened but in this regard, it appeared that they hadn’t been. There was something else that didn’t make sense to her, so she asked: “So why is it also called the True World?”
“Because it is a place of justice and redemption. It is a place that you go to before you return to the Ji, that is, if you return at all. If you are not redeemed, then you do not. The True World is a reflection of your own true inner being. Not much is really known about it but what we do know is that when you go there, either in a dream or in death, what you experience there is what you truly are inside. For example, if you are someone who likes to hurt other people, then that is what you will experience there, pain and suffering. But if you are someone who is the opposite, then you will experience something completely different.”
Chalice just stood there, staring at the wall, at her symbol etched into it. She reached up and stroked her hand over it. “How do people know this?” she asked.
“Mostly from the Readers but also from those who have died and come back to life.” As he said this her eyes and mouth were wide open with astonishment. “Some have, Chalice. It is a miracle when it happens but it has happened in the past. You see death cannot normally be healed but sometimes, for some reason, people have come back.”
“Whoa, trip on that!” Tycho mused.
Ben smiled, shaking his head. “Instead of tripping on it, Tycho, maybe you could try to learn from it a little.”
“I would, but my brain is full,” Tycho said sarcastically. “Can we leave now? This room is creeping me out.” 
Ben smiled. “Alright, let’s go,” he said, motioning for them to follow. “Chalice, if you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to ask me,” he said and she nodded. They all left the antechamber, except for Chalice who stood there staring at the symbols on the wall. Just outside, Jeremiah stopped and turned. 
“You coming?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she replied and with that she pulled her eyes away from the wall and followed him out the door.
At last, they found the green room. Kirna and Tycho stood there gaping. Like the green room in the Chinukan village, it was enormous but it was wild and unkempt. Various vegetable plants and shrubs were overgrown and deserted, and many crop fields lay barren and untended for years. There were, however, a multitude of different trees that offered a plentiful supply of fruits and nuts. Chalice noted that there was a stream moving through the dome, similar to the stable room. She also noted that this green room sported the same irrigation system of the Maehbeck farm.
“This watering system,” she said to Ben, “I saw it on the Maehbecks’ farm. I also saw it in the green room in Bunejab’s village. There are so many similarities between the Maehbecks’ farm and these underground dwellings. Did the Terravail engineer them?”
“No,” Ben answered. “They are crafts we learned, or I should say, we inherited, from the people of the Ancient World.” He paused in thought. Then said: “Nathaniel shouldn’t really be employing them on his farm, actually. I will have to talk to him about that when I see him.”
“Why not?” she asked.
But the reason why Chalice didn’t find out because, at that moment, Tycho exclaimed, “This is the green room?!” He looked over at Ben and motioned toward the trees. “Can we?”
“Be my guest,” he said, motioning them forward. They scurried ahead with the fireclay pots that they had collected from the kitchen and began to fill them. When they were done, they left the room, made their way back to the villagers, and began to distribute the food. Kirna stopped by the water fountain, where she filled jars with drinking water. The villagers who were strong enough were directed by Ben to the kitchen to collect pots and then to the green room, where they were instructed to gather food for their friends and family. A baby’s hoarse cry caught Chalice’ attention and she looked over to find the woman she had seen earlier in the tunnel who had been clutching the baby to her breast. Bunejab was there, spooning something into its mouth. It’s not dead after all! Chalice smiled. Thank the heavens for that little Chinuk, she thought.
Chalice sat down at the base of the tree, next to Aemis. The villagers of Branbury who were well enough had left the group to head for the green room. Only a few of them remained, huddled around the tree. “How are you?” she asked him. “You look better.”
“Good! I feel so much better. I think everybody does,” he said as he took a bite of an orange that he had just peeled. “It is awful what they do to people. You have no idea.”
“Oh no, we do have an idea,” Jeremiah interjected. “We know what they do, believe me. They don’t just torture people, they terrorize them.” 
Aemis nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. How do you know?”
“We’ve had a few run-ins with them,” Chalice said, looking up at Jeremiah. Just then, her heart skipped a beat when she looked past him and saw a tall, thin woman with long, dark hair who was standing in a crowd of people, handing out fruit. She knew her. She knew all of them. Leaping from the ground, she bolted over and cried: “Marie!” Kirna and Tycho followed her, rushing to their parents and embracing them in a tight hug.
“Chalice!” Marie exclaimed and set down her pot, rushing over to hug her. “We saw you in the tunnel but we didn’t want to interrupt.”
Chalice glanced around furiously, searching for every familiar face she could find.
“There are so few, Marie. Where is everybody?”
Marie shook her head. “When the village was attacked, many tried to fight but they died and the village was completely destroyed. The Draaquans don’t like it when you fight back. Once we realized we weren’t going to win, we didn’t see the point. Luckily we managed get all of the children out of the village before we were brought here. Then we had a few die in the prison.” Just as Marie had finished, the face Chalice had been waiting to see for a long time appeared in the crowd and walked up to her, smiling.
“Hi, honey. I am so proud of you!” Grandma Naelli said. Her grandmother had once been a dark beauty, but age, and the stress of the last six months, had worn on her and now she looked older than ever. Chalice glanced around. Papa was not with her.
She looked at her Grandmother with pleading eyes. “Papa, where is he?” she asked and Grandma Naelli shook her head sorrowfully. Then Chalice knew. It felt like an arrow piercing her heart. No, not Papa! Not him! she thought to herself. “You mean we left him up there?” she asked.
Her grandmother shook her head again. “No, honey, he didn’t make it out of Canton. They caught him at the pigeon cages. They tried to get information out of him and when he didn’t give it to them, they ...” She stopped, unable to continue, tears streaming down her cheeks. Chalice hugged her grandma fiercely. After a long while, she eventually let go and said: “Grandma, you need to get some food and rest.”
“No, Chalice, you do,” Jeremiah said softly behind her. She hadn’t even heard him walk up. “You also need to have Bunejab tend your shoulder. It’s soaked in blood again.” Chalice glanced down and found that he was right.
“What happened?” her grandmother asked.
“Oh, I just got cut,” she replied. “It’s not serious.”
“The apartments are over there.” Jeremiah pointed. “I’ll go get Bunejab.”
“Gramma, this is Jeremiah,” Chalice said. “Do you remember him?”
Her grandmother eyed the young man who towered over her with an expression of wonder. “Jeremiah?! You have grown! And into such a tall, handsome young man!” She reached up and placed her hands on his cheeks as he smiled down at her.
“You want to come with us, Gramma?” Chalice asked her.
Grandma Naelli turned to her and shook her head. “No, not right now. You go ahead. I will stay here with everyone for a while and help those who are sick.” Chalice looked at her in protest and her grandmother continued: “Really, honey, I am fine. I’ll join you later.”
She finally conceded, and giving her grandmother one last hug, she left. After stopping by the stable to gather her bags, she headed for the apartments. Again she found that the doors opened for her easily. Finding an apartment that she liked, she left the door open for Bunejab and Jeremiah. After a few minutes, they appeared with Ben. She looked at him curiously.
“I came for your daieoden,” he said.
“Why?” she asked. 
“I am going make a cord for it so you can hang it around your neck, with your amulet” 
“Oh, okay.” She removed it from her belt pouch and handed it to him. He took it and left. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the little Chinuk. Glancing down she found him standing at her side in anticipation, pointing to her shoulder. She smiled.
“Alright, hold on Buney. Let me get cleaned up first. I’ll be right back.” All she wanted was to get away and have a moment to herself. The idea of soaking in a hot bath was soothing and she was impatient for it. As she left the room, she noticed Jeremiah, who had placed his saddlebag on the stone kitchen table and was pulling out a cloth with a few cooking utensils.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m going to make a stew with some of the vegetables and meat I still have in my bag,” he answered, and as he pulled out a metal pot from the cupboard, Bunejab chittered at him. “You don’t have to help me, Buney,” Jeremiah responded. “But you can if you want to. I would have given you some anyway.”
Chalice’ stomach growled at her. “Mmm, stew, that sounds good,” she mumbled to herself and her face brightened a little at the thought of his cooking. At least it is something to look forward to, she thought. I don’t think I can take any more bad news today. She strode over to the first bed chamber and waited, expecting the door to open before she touched it. It didn’t move. Puzzled, she placed her palm on the vella and it still didn’t budge. Hmmm, okay, this is passing strange! she thought and called for help. Bunejab waddled over and placed his tiny hand on the circle. It opened instantly.
“Thanks!” she said as they entered and he turned on the light for her. When he went to close the door behind her, she stopped him.
“Wait!” she said. “I think I better leave it open for now” She didn’t want to get stuck in the room with no way out in case she couldn’t open it again. Bunejab chittered something at her and went back into the kitchen to help Jeremiah. Then it suddenly occurred to her why she couldn’t open the door. Ben had her stone. She remembered what he had said when she mentioned that she hadn’t been able to get the vellen to work: It takes a few tries. In the future, your daieoden will help with that. Nodding her head, she continued into the chamber and set down her bags.
She found a huge stone bed frame filled with soft sand, a stone writing table and a washroom that she quickly entered. The washroom had all the amenities of the Maehbecks’ house except for wash towels, soda water, and soap. Oh well, she thought. I will have to do without. She peeled off her riding dress and slip that seemed to cling to her body from the dampness of the cold stream through which she and Jeremiah had waded. Turning the left-hand knob above the large metal tub, she filled it with hot spring water, letting it drain at first to clean the dirt that had settled at the bottom. As soon as it had cleared, she plugged the drain with a stone that she had found on the wash table, lying next to a pumice stone that she snatched up as well. 
The water felt good and the warmth seeped into her, relaxing and loosening her muscles and joints. Scooping it into her hands, she washed her face, neck and arms. The pumice stone she used to scratch off all the dirt, grime and dead skin. Then, all at once, crushing grief bore down upon her and she let the tears streak down her cheek and fall, one by one, into the water. Her grandfather was dead, her home was destroyed, and she could never go back. She would never have the home again that she had known growing up. It was gone.
Suddenly, she looked down and noticed a swirl of blood in the water. It had trickled from her bandage that had gotten wet along the edges. So she lifted her right arm and set it on the edge of the tub. She had to be careful so that her bandage wouldn’t get wet and slip off. She knew what would happen if it did. The blood would pour out and she wouldn’t be able to stop it. Then she would have to call for Bunejab and Jeremiah, which would be extremely embarrassing, she thought, without anything to cover her. When she was done, she drained the tub and removed her woolen blanket from her bag. Wrapping it around her, she re-entered the sitting room.
Bunejab had a fire roaring on the hearth that he had made with dry wood from the green room. The smell of fresh herbs in cooking stew filled the room and Chalice’ stomach growled. The velarium in the wall shone softly and the feeling that it gave her was the same that she had had in the apartment of Bunejab’s village, that all was right with the world and that there was nothing to fear. It was almost a false sense of security, she thought, as she knew that just above them on the mountaintop, there were men who were, at this moment, plotting to kill her.
Bunejab waddled up and set to tending her shoulder. As soon as he had removed her bandage, she saw that it was just as she had thought. The wound had re-opened and blood flowed from it freely. He had to apply a treated compress on it immediately. He held it in place tightly for a few minutes. The compress had an herbal smell and when he removed it, the blood had stopped. Then Bunejab cleaned the wound and wiped a salve on it that removed the soreness before he re-wrapped it. Frustrated, he chittered furiously while he was working.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked Jeremiah.
“He can’t figure out why your wound isn’t healing properly. He says he’s tried everything he knows,” Jeremiah answered as he set the table. “I think the stew is ready. Are you hungry?” He removed the pot from the oven and set it on the table.
“For your cooking? Are you kidding?” she said and he smiled. “I’ll be right back,” she added and went to dress into her night clothes which were a small cotton shirt and pants that she had brought with her from Canton. 
When she rejoined them, her grandmother was there. They ate heartily as Jeremiah filled in her grandmother on the events that had happened since the raid on Canton. Grandma Naelli was amazed to discover everything that they had been through and done to get there. She was very proud of both of them and said as much. She was also grateful to Jeremiah for the dinner he had prepared for them. “It’s nice to have someone else do the cooking for a change,” she said. 
When they were finished, Chalice suddenly felt fatigue wash over her. Swaying, she could barely sit up straight. She thought about how they had spent the whole night running through the fortress and knocking down walls. Although she was young and strong, the effort of it, she realized, hit her like a ton of bricks.
“I’m gonna go lie down,” she said. “Thanks for dinner, Jeremiah.”
“Don’t mention it. I think we are all going to get some shut-eye, too,” he replied, cleaning the table. “We’ll see you when you’re up.”
Then she strode into her bedchamber and laid her woolen blanket over the soft sand. Curling up in the nook that the sand had formed underneath her blanket, she fell fast asleep and into the dream.
A soft blue light radiated from the chamber to her left as she walked down the long, white corridor. She did not turn into the room, however, but stayed her course and followed it to the staircase before her. She knew where she needed to go. She had been here many times before but this time it was different. She could feel it. This time she would make it, she thought. She ascended and walked the length of the corridor to the outer courtyard knowing that she would see the rising sun and hear the cries of the ocean birds overhead. When she entered the ward and looked out over the watery horizon, she found that she could turn and finally see her quarry after all of this time. What she saw, she was not expecting.
On the dais at the other end of the ward, she saw a fair-haired man, in white robes, shackled to an altar in chains. What is this? she wondered. Slowly, she walked up and peered down at him. He stared back at her, unmoving. She could see the question in his blue eyes. Who are you? they said. Looking at him was almost as if she were looking at herself as his eyes, she thought, were a reflection of her own. Unlike hers, however, they were sad and haunted, as if all the despair, desolation, and misery of the whole world dwelt inside them. In them, she could sense the feeling of absolute hopelessness and she felt that she had to do something to help him but when she reached down to fumble at the chains, her hand stopped abruptly, blocked by some invisible force, and her fingers could not reach. He was completely bound. 
He looked at her as if to say, “It is no use. There is nothing that you can do.” 
Stubbornly, she refused to accept this and said: “I will help you. I will find a way.” She had no idea who he was or how she would unchain him but she knew she would, eventually.
Then, unexpectedly, the world shifted into darkness and she opened her eyes to see Jeremiah lying next to her, drawing in the deep breath of sleep. He had moved and accidentally nudged her. He must have crawled in with me after I fell asleep, she thought and stroked his cheek. Then she fell back into a deep slumber, not into the dream this time, but into visions and flashbacks of her life at home and of Papa by the fireside. When she re-awoke, Jeremiah was gone and she found herself alone in the room.
I must have slept for a long time, she thought as she felt completely renewed. Yawning and stretching, she rose from the bed and dressed into a fresh outfit. When she found the apartment empty, she left. As she made her way out to the main dome of the city, she noticed that others had settled into the apartments nearby. They had left the exit wide open and she walked out. Proceeding around the Toros Komun, she heard shouts.
“Hey!” someone exclaimed. 
“How’d he do that?” another added. “That’s not fair!” 
The shouts were coming from a group of people near the fountain. Jeremiah was also there, writing in his notebook. She strode up next to them and noticed that, next to the fountain, a line was drawn on the stone with chalk. Two paces beyond it, what looked like a wide ladder with eleven rungs was sketched onto the stone as well. Three members of the large group held what looked like dark red, marble balls. Bunejab stood to the left of everyone, holding three of the red balls as well.
“What are you playing?” she asked.
“Bracketball! You want to play?” the man at the head of the line asked. He was a tall, young man with dark hair and a mustache. He had a comical air about him and his eyes twinkled jovially as he spoke.
“Chalice, this is Jarrod Baquo,” Jeremiah said. “He, his wife Cheyenne, and Royce Fetter own the bakery in our village.” He motioned to each of them. Cheyenne was a petite redhead with blue eyes and wore a blue country dress. The man next to her, who Jeremiah had introduced as Royce, resembled her as though they could have been twins.
“Nice to meet you,” Chalice said, giving a slight bow of her head. “I’ve heard of this game. How do you play?”
“You see this?” Jarrod asked, motioning to the drawing on the ground. She nodded. “Each rectangle is a bracket that has a value in between one and ten. No two brackets can have the same value. We play either with two people, or with two teams, and the object of the game for each team is to roll their three balls into the highest scoring bracket from the boundary line, here,” he said pointing to the line near the fountain. “Once the balls have stopped rolling, the value of each bracket is added up to a total. After each team has rolled, the totals are compared and the team with the highest score wins.”
“What is the value of each bracket?” she asked.
“Ah, that’s the trick,” he said. “That’s why we need the arbiter, which in this game is Jeremiah, because we needed a translator for him,” Jarrod said, pointing to Bunejab. Chalice looked over and the little Chinuk grinned at her, his tiny black eyes sparkling with amusement. “The arbiter keeps score and makes sure that no one is cheating. Each team sets the brackets’ score for the other and tells the arbiter, who keeps a record of it. Then the team who rolls gets three yes/no questions to discover something about the values the other team has placed into the brackets. In answering, the other team can either choose to lie or tell the truth but not both. They tell this to the arbiter as well.”
“So how does that help?” she asked.
“If the questions are skillfully put, you can tell, not only whether or not the team is lying, but you can also tell something about the values of the brackets.” She frowned and he said: “Let me give you an example. Let’s say the team asks, ‘Are the values placed in numerical order?’ and the other team says, ‘No.’ Then you know that they may or may not be in numerical order depending on if they are lying or telling the truth. Then the team asks, ‘Is the sky blue?’ and the other answers, ‘No.’ Then they ask, ‘Is the highest value in the farthest bracket?‘ and the answer is again, ‘No.’ Then you know that they have chosen to lie and that the values are placed in numerical order with the highest value being in the farthest bracket.”
“But that’s not necessarily true,” she said. “Because they sky isn’t always blue. At dawn and dusk it is a golden red, on a cloudy day it is grey, and at night it is black. So in that case, they are telling the truth.”
“Ah, very good! That is correct,” he replied. “That is why you have to be careful in wording your question. In this case, you would need to ask, ‘Is the sky blue during a clear midsummer day?’”
“Ah, I see. So it is not just a game of skill and hand/eye coordination but it is also a game of cunning and deceit as well.”
“Exactly,” he said.
“In that case, count me in!” she said and glanced over at Bunejab. “Buney, you playin’ too?” she asked the little Chinuk and he nodded.
“Yeah, it’s him against all of us,” Jarrod said.
“Isn’t that kind of unfair?” she asked.
“Yes it is!” Jarrod exclaimed. “Because he keeps winning!”
Chalice smiled inwardly to herself because she knew why but before she could say it, an amused voice resounded behind them.
“Well, the Chinuka are probably the most intelligent creatures in Naeo’Gaea and he is smarter than the average Chinuk.” It was Ben. “It’s not what he says that is usually important. It’s what he doesn’t say.”
“Okay, well, in that case, I’m making up a new rule,” Jarrod said. “I’m calling it the Chinukan handicap rule. Jeremiah, write this down …”
“You can’t do that!” Royce interrupted.
“Sure I can! I invented the game,” Jarrod answered.
“Yes, you did but you can’t just make up rules whenever you want,” Cheyenne, scolded him.
“And why not?”
“Because ...” But the reason why, they never found out for Ben gasped loudly and everyone turned to look at him. He was holding one of the balls that Bunejab had handed him and his stone was glowing softly.
“Wait a minute!” he said. “Where did you get these?”
“Over there, in that room with the weird altar,” Jarrod answered, pointing in the direction of the rooms they had discovered.
“These aren’t game balls,” Ben said. “They are oriclae.”
“Uh, oriclae? What?” Jarrod asked.
“I didn’t think there were any left,” Ben said to Chalice, “but when we were at the Farahs’ and you had that headache out of nowhere, I had my suspicions. And the fact that they are here tells me some very interesting things.” He paused and scratched his chin. “Very interesting indeed!” he added. She could see in his expression that he had the answer to something that he had been wondering for a very long time. When he looked up and saw the confused look on her face, he said: “They are a special sort of Terravailian daietych and are very valuable. I’m sorry you all but the game is over. I need to confiscate these.” Everyone groaned with disappointment. They had been having so much fun. Reluctantly, they handed the balls over. Ben, however, didn’t want to interrupt their fun, so he said, “Maybe you can use something else. I saw some oranges in that pot over there,” he said, pointing to a fireclay pot that sat on the grass.
“That might work!” Jarrod said and he ran over to collect them.
Ben turned to Chalice. “Here you go,” he said and handed her stone to her on which he had fashioned a leather cord that held it firmly in place.
“Thanks!” She placed it around her neck.
Then Ben turned to the little Chinuk. “Bunejab, come with me,” he said and the two strode off around the Toros Komun.
Just then Jarrod and Royce strode up with six oranges. “Well, I guess these will have to do,” Jarrod said. “You still playing, Chalice?”
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll take Bunejab’s spot, since he’s gone.”
“You’re going to challenge all of us?” Royce asked with a condescending smile, as if he didn’t believe for one minute that she could beat them at a game she had just learned.
“Yup!” she responded confidently and looked at Jeremiah, who held a wry smile. She winked at him. He knew she could do it. He remembered, from all the games he had played with her as a child, that she was one of the trickiest opponents he had ever known.
“You want to go first?” Jarrod asked.
“You can if you want,” she said and Jeremiah handed her the notebook on which she wrote her values for each bracket, starting with the closest bracket first and ending with the last. The numbers she wrote in succession were one, two, three, four, five, ten, nine, eight, seven, and six. Next to the numbers she wrote, ‘Truth,’ which told Jeremiah that she would answer their three questions truthfully. Handing the notebook and pen back to him, she said to them: “Okay, ask me a question.”
They huddled together in a low murmur for a few minutes, deciding which question to ask first. Then finally Jarrod turned around and asked: “Are your eyes blue?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Are the values placed in numerical order?”
“Yes,” she replied again and a triumphant smile appeared on Jarrod’s face.
“Is the largest value placed in the last bracket?”
“No,” she answered and at that, they rolled their oranges as best they could into the nearest bracket. Jeremiah smiled slightly and tallied the score. By the expression on his face, Chalice knew that he had caught the trick. Then he flipped the page of his notebook and handed it to Jarrod and the others. In a huddle, they muttered softly and scribbled onto the paper. Then they returned it him.
“Your turn,” he said.
Chalice turned to Jarrod. “Is the sky outside blue on a clear midsummer day?”
“Yes.”
“Is the highest score placed in or next to the last bracket?” she asked and there were low murmurs of, ‘Can she do that?’ and ‘Can she ask that?’
“Yes, she can,” Jeremiah said, putting an end to the questioning. “Jarrod, your answer?” he added.
“No,” Jarrod replied.
“Is the highest score placed in or next to the two middle brackets?”
Jarrod turned to Jeremiah. “Can she ask that?”
“Is it a yes or no question?” Jeremiah replied and Jarrod scowled.
Realizing that it was definitely a legitimate yes or no question, he said: “Okay, you’re right. The answer to the last question is no.”
Chalice smiled and rolled her oranges so that each one stopped rolling in one of the first three brackets. 
Jeremiah tallied the score and said: “Chalice wins with a score of twenty-one.”
“What?!” Jarrod and Royce snapped back in unison. “How can she win? Our score was thirty.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Jeremiah responded. “Your total score came to three.” The corners of his mouth were twitching upward and Chalice could tell he was trying not to laugh.
Jarrod spluttered: “Wait a ... what?! How? She said that the values were in numerical order and that they highest score wasn’t in the last bracket.”
“It wasn’t,” Jeremiah responded and showed him the page where Chalice had written the bracket values. Jarrod stared down at the notebook in confusion.
“You see,” Chalice explained, “you asked if the values were in numerical order, which is true. Some of them are. But you didn’t ask if all of the values were in numerical order. If you had, I would have said no.” Jarrod turned to Jeremiah with an indignant glare.
“I’m sorry but Chalice is right,” Jeremiah said, shrugging his shoulders. “You didn’t specify it.”
“Ah, beginner’s luck!” Royce said jokingly.
“That’s not fair!” Jarrod continued to protest.
“What’s not fair?” Cheyenne asked. “Jeremiah is the arbiter and the arbiter settles disputes. What he says, goes. In my opinion, he is a fair judge. That is why we have always selected him as the arbiter.” When Jarrod continued to scowl, she frowned at him reproachfully. “You made the rules, Jarrod,” she added and he shrank back from her stare.
“Hmmm,” he said as his stare lingered frustratedly on Chalice for a moment. “I want the Chinuk back.” Everyone laughed.
Ironically, just as he said it, Chalice felt a tug on her sleeve and looked down to find Bunejab chittering something at her. She turned to Jeremiah.
“He says that Ben wants to see you,” Jeremiah replied to her silent question.
“Oh, alright,” she said. “Lead the way, Buney.”
As she followed him, she noticed that they were headed in the direction of the strange rooms where they had found the wall inscriptions. Bunejab passed the entrance to the tomb and stopped at the doorway to the room with the strange altar that she had seen before. When she peered in, Ben was standing there behind it with one of the dark red balls in his hand.
“What’s going on Ben?” she asked as she entered the room. She glanced back but Bunejab had already left.
“I have something to teach you,” he said and she nodded as she approached the altar. He continued: “The only known oricle that ever existed, until now, was in the possession of Paelianna. She confiscated it from Dar’Baren before she imprisoned him. He had been trying to use it on her but was unsuccessful.”
“Was that the weapon he created then? The one she died trying to destroy?”
“No, unfortunately not. For a long time, I thought it was, that is, until that morning at the Farahs’, when you suddenly had that headache. Now I know that the weapon had to have been something else.”
“I don’t follow,” she said.
“You see, an oricle is very dangerous. With it you can break into somebody’s mind but you have to be strong enough and you have to know their location, that is, where they currently are. When you break in, you can see everything that they can, including their thoughts and memories, and if you are skilled enough, you can control their decisions and actions without them even knowing. However, if someone’s mind is too strong, you cannot breach it. In that case, all the person will feel is a ...”
“A splitting headache,” she interrupted, finally understanding.
“Exactly. I think that’s how they knew we were there at the Farahs’ castle. Also, no one has really known where the Maaldanese came from, until now. We have always believed that they came from Barenthren because of Dar’Baren’s name, which means ‘of Baren.’ But, we had no proof. This discovery has confirmed it. Dar’Baren was, indeed, among the first of the Maaldanese.”
“Oh,” she said. “So what is this?” she asked, motioning to the altar.
“This is a quiosque.”
“A what?”
“An altar on which you can read from the stones. I’m going to show you how to use this,” he said and held up the oricle. The others had been placed neatly in the corner of the chamber.
“Oh, cool!” she said excitedly as he placed the stone in the middle of the altar, into the small basin at its center, and looked at her.
“Alright, I’m going to attempt to break into your mind. If I succeed, this oricle should start to move. At the same time, I want you to concentrate on something and not let your thoughts stray. It has to be something that grasps your attention firmly.”
“Okay,” she said and knew exactly what to do. It was the thing upon which she had been concentrating her whole life. The thing that had sat in the back of her mind, unknown for so long, until now.
“Go,” he said and his stone glowed a soft grey. She looked at her hands and concentrated intensely. After a few minutes she began to feel the sharp pain again, the pain that she had felt at the Farahs’ castle. Ben’s stone glowed brighter and the pain intensified until it was all she could do to keep a straight face. He watched the oricle with anticipation, but it continued to lay still, unmoving. Then, suddenly the pain in her head disappeared and Ben let go of his power. “You have a strong mind Chalice. I couldn’t break it and I was using all my strength.”
“Can I try?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“How do I do it?”
“Just as you were concentrating on the concept to keep me from breaching your mind, you need to concentrate with the same intensity on the person whose mind you intend to breach. Concentrate on them and where they are. Put all your thought into it.”
“Alright, here goes,” she said and closed her eyes. In the back of her mind she saw the blue pulsating gem again, like the one in her dreams. She concentrated on Ben and where he was. When she opened her eyes, her stone was glowing a bright blue. She found that using it was as natural as breathing. She did it without even thinking. After a few moments, the oricle started to spin. It was slow at first but the more she concentrated, the faster it moved, until it became hot and sparks flew from it. Then, suddenly, bright light shot out in all directions and an image formed in its center. She peered into it and saw a young man with a familiar face. It was a face much like her own. She knew it. She had seen it already, although much older, in her dreams. And those eyes, they were hers. She broke off concentration and asked: “Who was that?” The oricle’s light instantly disappeared and it sat motionless in its socket.
Ben sighed in frustration and gave up, knowing he had been defeated. “That wasn’t bad for your first try. Not bad at all.”
“Umm, thanks,” she said, not really interested in how well she had done. “Who was that, just now? That man you were just thinking of.”
“That was your father, King Duquaine, when he was your age. I was the one who trained him back then. Teaching you just now reminded me of that. That must have been what you saw.”
Of course, that was him. She had already known but she still had to confirm it. Piecing information together in her mind, she had an idea, so she asked: “Ben, the World of the Sylphen.”
He raised an eyebrow. “This is a bit off-subject isn’t it?”
“Well, yes, but this world ...”
“Yes?”
“You told me that you can dream yourself into it, right? You said something like that.”
“Yes, I did and yes, you can. Dreaming is a channel through which a person can see into the True World.”
 “But can you actually enter it, that is, can you enter it physically?”
“Go physically into the World of the Sylphen?” He paused and scratched his chin, frowning. “Hmmm, I’ve never heard of that. It doesn’t really seem possible ... and yet ...”
“What?” she asked.
“Well, there is a children’s rhyme that is related to it. I wonder if there is a connection. It goes something like this: ‘Sprinkle fairy dust on an angel’s wing and fly to the land where the sylphen sing. Across the ocean and over the abyss. Through the darkness of the devil’s kiss. Sprinkle fairy dust on an angel’s wing and fly to the land where the sylphen sing.’” 
She looked at him in shock. “That’s pretty dark for a children’s rhyme!”
“Actually, you will find many like that. There is another one about a plague that hit before the Ice Age, before the land changed. It killed many people. Now it is remembered as a small song and dance that children do on the playground.” She looked appalled and he continued: “It’s a strange thing, Chalice, but this seems to be the way children’s minds deal with deep, uncomfortable issues ... through nursery rhymes and games. In this way though, these songs sometimes give us a glimpse into the past and this particular one, the one about the sylphen, could suggest that physical presence in the True World is possible. Most, however, have interpreted this song as representing death and the soul’s journey back to the Ji.” He paused, then said: “Why do you ask?”
She didn’t answer but narrowed her eyes and frowned as her thoughts raced. But maybe it is talking about actually going there. Maybe, a long time ago, one of the Terravail did find a way. She continued to work it out in her mind now that she knew there was a connection between her recurring dream and her father: And maybe this Terravailian recorded the ability into a stone, she thought furiously. And maybe it was lost and forgotten, the remnant of it only remembered as a children’s rhyme! She gasped as it finally dawned on her. The expression must have shown on her face as well because he asked: “What is it, Chalice?”
“The Onyx, you said that it disappeared when my father did, right?”
“Yes, why?”
“That’s it!” she exclaimed and he looked a question at her. “That’s what it does! That’s got to be it!” She suddenly knew what she had to do ... But how to do it? she wondered. That was the question. She looked at him with her intensely blue eyes and said: “Ben, I know where my father is.”




Epilogue

The servant pulled back the heavy iron door as Vlaad sauntered in. The only light came from the fire that blazed like a furnace next to the experimentation table. Lucce’s workroom was always dark, Vlaad knew, but anywhere Lucce went in the white palace was dark. The walls did not shine for him. They barely shone for anyone anymore. Over the last nineteen years, their brilliance had waned and the palace servants were forced to order stand lamps imported from Créone to light the rooms at night. Lucce himself did not use them. He preferred the dark. The dark was where he could do his best work. Tonight Vlaad had the distinct impression, however, that this room was darker than usual. An indication, he thought, of Lucce’s mood.
He wasn’t afraid of him exactly but he wondered why he had been summoned. Ronaan had already brought Lucce the news. A shame that. Ronaan had been a good warrior. It would be difficult to replace him. It was his own fault, though, he knew. He should have been there. If he had, they would already have the girl. Now, she and the prisoners had vanished without a trace and he wondered how she had done it. Even though his men had found the secret entrance, how she had managed to slip away, with all of the prisoners, vexed him. It was as if they had just disappeared. Vlaad knew, however, that they would not be found until the location of the Resistance was uncovered. A tough nut that he had yet to crack. He knew he could do it though. It was just a matter of time, but it would have to be soon. Dangerous rumors of what happened at Chainbridge were already starting to spread throughout the Realm, rumors, he knew, that would have to be extinguished immediately.
As for the escape and the damage they had done to the fortress, Vlaad had sent Ronaan in to report. He had known exactly the kind of reaction the message would illicit from the Fierain and Ronaan was, after all, the one responsible for security at Chainbridge. So why was Lucce calling for Vlaad? He brought the stone with him, just in case. He thought a little insurance would be wise. It was always best to be the bearer of good news.
Lucce was hunched over the table, examining an oricle. When he heard Vlaad’s footsteps, he looked up and red hot firelight illumined the left side of his face. He was not happy.
“You summoned me, my Lord?” Vlaad asked as he bowed his head.
“Yes. I want to know what happened with the others.”
“The others? Those who let the child escape, you mean?”
“Yes, of course,” Lucce growled impatiently.
“The chamber,” Vlaad answered.
Lucce nodded, satisfied. “Good. Weakness will not be tolerated. Any Draaquan who allows himself to be defeated, especially by a female, is a disgrace.” he said in disgust.
“Yes, my Lord. So you know about the girl?”
“Yes. I have seen her.” He paused with an expression of pure hatred on his face. “She looks like him,” he snarled.
That was true but how did he know? Vlaad knew that he had strictly commanded the men to remain silent about it. His intention had been to have her killed before Lucce could find out. So how could he have seen her? he wondered but he dared not ask. He dared not question the Fierain. Lucce had powers that were strange and dangerous. He also had ways of knowing things that Vlaad did not understand. This is why Lucce had ordered them to abandon the north sea and search near Cedarwood. He had known that she was there. But how? Vlaad did not ask about that either. He knew that he was already on shaky ground.
“I am holding you responsible for this,” Lucce sneered.
“Yes, my Lord.” Vlaad bowed his head again. “I’m sorry. I can repay you.”
“Yes, you can and you will. I want you to kill her,” he said sternly. “I want her dead and I want you to do it. You are the only one who can. You are stronger and more cunning than anyone else. I know she is getting help from someone. Find out who it is.”
“Yes, my Lord, and the oaths?”
“As I told the others, she was not born under the Covenant. We now know that the oaths will not protect her. That is what happens when you marry a Naeon,” he said in disgust. Vlaad knew that Lucce hated the Naeon and he also knew why but he never mentioned it. He knew that bringing up that subject with the Fierain was suicide.
But how did he know that the oaths would not protect her? Vlaad wondered but again, he dared not ask. He dared not question. It was true that Lucce could have been lying in order to punish him, but if that were the case, there were always ways to kill someone without being directly involved. If the oaths held for the girl, Vlaad would not be harmed. After all, he had done it once before and had managed to keep it a secret. If Lucce only knew that it had been him, he would never be able to explain that he had been doing him a favor. And to Vlaad, that’s exactly what it was, a favor. He would take this secret to his grave, for tonight, Lucce was more angry than Vlaad had ever seen him. He knew that appeasing him was the only way to survive. Killing him was impossible. Lucce forced oaths upon everyone near him that were more binding than any other Terravailian oaths that had ever existed. Besides which, he didn’t want to kill him. Lucce had promised Vlaad that he would eventually teach him the path to immortality, a dark secret that only he knew. So, really, there was only one solution. He would have to give him the stone tonight.
“I do have good news, my Lord.” He pulled the dark wooden box from the cloth that he was holding and proffered it. Lucce took it at once, furrowing his brows, wondering what Vlaad could possibly offer him to rectify the situation. He clicked the latch and it opened. An evil smile immediately spawned across his face.
“The firestone,” Vlaad said darkly, as he looked into the Fierain’s eyes and saw a red glint flare up in the burning inferno of insanity that flourished within.
Lucce glared intensely at him, his focus almost piercing his black mail, and said: “It is time, I think, Vlaadren, to unleash the Naezzi.”
THE END



Afterword

If you have read this far, you have finished the first book of the trilogy, The Legend of the Raie’Chaelia. For information on the second book, The Firelight of Maalda, and on the prequels, please visit www.melissadouthit.com.Here’s a sneak peak:


Book Two of The Legend of the Raie’Chaelia:
The Firelight of Maalda
Preview


Prologue

It had been a good day, Aesol thought, as he strode down Haddock Alley at dusk on his way to The Fisherman’s Tale. The catch this morning out at sea had been good but the market had been even better and his purse chimed happily with the sound of coins as he shook it on his belt. The castle servants who came to market had been generous, not only with their coin, but also with the information they had given him about what was happening up at the fortress. A warm dinner, a mug of ale and a merry tune was all that he wanted now. The pretty women, . . . well, they were for the young’uns, he thought, not for him. He was too old. He had been living in the coastal town of Auvergny since he was a boy and had sailed the sea countless times. He had already had his fair share of fun, even a great love, who had passed on the year before, bless her soul. He missed her, especially at night. So he filled his evenings with drink, music and storytelling and tonight, he had the best story of all. Groups had been flocking to the tavern all week to hear it. This evening, he thought, would be no different.
He opened the door and glanced in. The tavern was stuffy but surprisingly clean and well-kept given its exterior. The tables and benches, which sat to the left, were crafted of dark wood so finely polished that they appeared new. A few tavern patrons leisurely rested on them and enjoyed a mug of their favorite drinks while the rest of the patrons were engrossed in games and dance as the musicians on the dais in the back of the room played on. As he entered, heads turned and murmurs buzzed around the room. To the right, a huge crowd that was closely observing Aesol’s every move, stepped aside and let him pass by to approach the bar. The barman nodded to a rather corpulent gentleman seated on a barstool that was much smaller than himself, the seat completely covered by his rolls of fat. The fat man turned his head and a glimmer of understanding crossed his face. He immediately rose from the stool, which creaked in relief, took his drink with him, and disappeared into the whispering throng. At that, Aesol plopped himself down and pulled out several coins.
“Hey, Marlin! How’s business?” he asked, making a whistling sound with every ‘s’ that he pronounced. Lacking several teeth, he produced a musical sound when he spoke that he used to his advantage. It made for good storytelling, he thought, as well as laughter.
“Excellent! It has been good all week thanks to you!” Marlin said as he wiped a tankard clean with a wet cloth. Marlin was a short, stout man, with a gruff face and a grizzly beard. “What can I get you? The usual?”
“At’ll do!” Aesol replied and placed the coins on the counter.
“This one’s on me,” Marlin said, pushing the coins back to him.
“Thank ya!” Aesol said gratefully and placed them back into his purse.
Marlin turned and grabbed a mug from the shelf. Placing it under the spigot of the ale barrel, he filled it and then slid it down the counter to Aesol who caught it in his right hand.
“Will you tell us the story?” a small voice said behind him.
He turned on the barstool and saw a little boy with dirty blond locks and bare feet standing in front of him, looking up into his eyes eagerly. The boy’s hair was messy and he had smudges of dirt all over his face as a result of playing in the street all day. The huge crowd behind him stared at the fisherman and waited in anticipation. 
“Sure thing, lil guy!” he said, reaching down with his left hand to tousle the boy’s hair. He took a long draw from his tankard and began. “It was seven nigh’s ago, right after dusk, I saw ‘em five riders. I was sittin’ righ’ here a’ the bar when I saw ‘em pass by. I knew ‘mediately tha’ they was no town folk. One was an ol’ man on a grey horse, with some kind o’ creature in front. The other four was young’uns. Two of ‘em was on brown horses an’ was Creonese, I reckon. The other two was the spittin’ image of drawins posted ‘round town. The girl, they say she the True Princess cause she the daughter o’ the ol’ king. She was dressed in blue an’ ridin’ a sun-colored horse. She almost saw me because I followed ‘em, ya see. I followed ‘em all the way ta the en’ o’ town, where I stopped behin’ the cannery to watch ‘em ride o’er the hill.”
“Then what happened?” a man asked from the crowd.
“Came back here, paid up an’ wen’ home. Wasn’t ‘til mornin’, when I woke up, tha’ I hear’ the tower bells a ringin’. I looked out my winder an’ saw ‘em. They was everywhere in the valley, a’ the base o’ the mountain.”
“The five riders?” the young boy asked anxiously.
“No, the Draaquans! A whole legion of ‘em,” he replied and the boy’s eyes went wide. “They was searchin’ for somethin’. The riders, I reckon.”
“Did they find them?” the boy asked.
“No, they didn’. The five ne’er came back but I heard tell that they stormed the castle, killed twenty guards an’ then ‘scaped with all ‘em prisoners.”
“Where’d they go?” an unidentified female voice asked from the crowd.
“Tha’s the mystery, ya see. No one knows cause they vanished. Vanished inta thin air!” The crowd gasped loudly and he continued: “They say this princess, she has special powers. They say she can disappear and reappear in ‘nother place in the blink of’n eye. I reckon tha’s what she done, alright, an’ she took ‘em all wit’ her. Fire’s Bane, tha’s her alright! Tha’s wha’ they callin’ her.”
Suddenly, there was a commotion near the front door as people were jostled and pushed out of the way. As soon as they realized who was causing the ruckus, the music stopped and the crowd of spectators split down the middle to make room. Marlin hid behind the bar as a young woman ran up, grasped the young boy’s hand, and ran out the back door. The rest of the patrons followed her, elbowing and shouldering each other wildly toward the exit, leaving their refreshments behind unfinished. Aesol sat frozen, unable to move.
A tall, dark figure in black mail and cloak swaggered up to the bar and towered over him menacingly. “An interesting story,” he said in a deep, powerful voice. He was Draaquan, with platinum blond hair and eerie silver eyes. His penetrating stare seemed to drive deep into Aesol’s soul and sent a shiver down his spine. There were several other dark figures looming behind him. “Take him!” the Draaquan ordered and two of the men converged on the terrified fisherman, seizing him by the arms and legs, and began to carry him out the front door.
“Please, don’ hur’ me!” he screamed in terror. “I’s jus’ tellin’ a story, jus’ havin’ a bi’ o’ fun. Please, I’ll tell ya anythin’, anythin’ ya wanna know. Please!”
“Yes, you will!” the Draaquan threatened.
One of the other men reached over the bar and grabbed Marlin who was cowering in the corner. Clutching him by the collar of his apron, he pressed Marlin’s cheek firmly into the slick wooden surface. “Rhygor, what do we do with him?” he asked and Marlin trembled with fear.
“Leave him,” the blond Draaquan responded and nodded to the other man who was pouring oil over all the wooden surfaces in the tavern. “He will learn not to let others spread lies.” Their mission, assigned to them by Vlaad himself, was to squash the rumors that were circulating around the region and to create new rumors of their own, rumors that would do as much damage to this girl as she had done to them. Rhygor would personally see to it that the order was executed successfully. A raging vengeance roiled inside of him and he vowed to requite the deaths of his young brothers, Rhaene and Jaden. He missed them sorely. 
At his word, the Draaquan let loose his hold on the old man and Marlin slumped to the floor. On his hands and knees, he scrambled frantically for the back door.
“That’s enough,” Rhygor said to the Draaquan with the oil and sauntered out of the tavern. Outside, the dark outline of the four men and their prisoner sent a warning to the whole town as the tavern behind them exploded in scorching fire. They dragged the prisoner down the road to a black carriage and threw him violently inside. Then they mounted their steeds and rode off into the night. 
The town folk desperately scurried back and forth from the docks with buckets of water to quench the fire that was beginning to spread to the adjoining buildings. It wasn’t long, however, before the furious blaze engulfed the whole street. Tendrils of dark smoke slithered up through the night air and blocked the light of the moon as the townspeople scrambled about hysterically while their children cried and coughed. All was in chaos.
Hours passed and the stink of smoke and burnt wood hovered over the entire harbor of Auvergny. A thick layer of dewy ash covered everything from the village center to a lonely fishing boat that sat abandoned in the last strip of the dock. The boat swayed gently with the motion of the water and waited forlornly for its captain to return. It waited in vain, of course, for its captain, to no one’s surprise, was never seen again


About the Author

Melissa Douthit grew up in North County of San Diego, California. After graduating with a Computer Science degree in Southern California, and working for a summer at the National Radio Astronomy Observatory in New Mexico, she moved to the Bay Area to work at NASA Ames Research Center for a year and then at Lawrence Livermore National Lab for another four years. From there, she moved to Monterey, California, to work at the Naval Postgraduate School on a government project for two years. She currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, working with the Army Corps of Engineers on another government project. Since high school, she has been a voracious reader of books of all genres, with an emphasis in fantasy and science fiction. Her literary work is strongly influenced by her professional experience and includes many elements of her scientific background.


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