Legend of the Ravenstone (19 page)

“Enough!” Arcturus snapped. “There were no demons, but I do demand an explanation from the one man who has any answers.”

All eyes turned to Hawkwing, who allowed Snowfire to walk from his hand to his pack upon the ground. “I left the path,” he said.

“For what purpose?” the Markanturian demanded.

“Snowfire had been caught; I went to free her,” Hawkwing said quietly.

“Come again?”

Hawkwing lifted his chin but did not repeat himself.

“You—who warned us of the inherent danger of these plains—did not follow your own caution?” Arcturus thumped Whitestar upon the ground. “You abandoned us for your
pet
?” He shook his head. “I do not claim to understand you or how it is that you are so highly reputed. Your stories, your evasiveness, your negligence... It is a wonder we have not already suffered mishap.” He spread his arms. “Ah, but wait—we have. Sent to wander the Freelands alone, Kariayla and I had a pleasant time in jail. How had I forgotten?

“Do you care to tell Master James why he imagined he was pursued by a demon? Or might you extend the courtesy to the rest of us to elaborate upon our sudden darkness? The truth would regain you a sliver of credibility,” Arcturus said. An uncomfortable silence followed while they waited for their guide to answer.

“We experienced the magic of the Plains,” Hawkwing said.

“Likely triggered by the fact that you strayed from the path,” Arcturus said.

There was no response.

The Markanturian sighed and turned away. “I assume we will reach the third marker tomorrow, and the following day we will see the end of these dreadful Plains. If we can all agree to face this journey competently and with prevailing logic, we just might reach our destination.”

Jinx shook his head and turned to Ruby. For once he was not on the receiving end of Arcturus’s lecture, but he felt no better than if the blame had been his to shoulder. He patted the imp on the head.
Can’t get outta here soon enough.

T
he arrival at the boundary of the Plains of Delmadria could have been cause for celebration. The morning light gleamed upon the frosty stone that brought an end to the pathway, and beyond the tall grasses was a knee-high field, sparkling with the promise of a new beginning. The quiet, pristine landscape retained its sanctity, for not a word broke the air as the travelers crossed the threshold into a setting not plagued by demons or darkness. Pale hills rose and lapped against the solid base of the snow-laden Thieldrerin Mountains.

Hawkwing’s stride did not break as he passed from the plains and into the field. The other companions looked at one another before trailing behind him.

“Uh, does this wizard-guy live in the mountains?” Jinx asked.

“That would be a mystery, James,” Arcturus said dryly. “Though rest assured that if we are to scale mountains, I will have a none-too-kind word with our expectant host.”

“That’ll learn him,” Jinx said, rolling his eyes.

“We will be there before sunset,” Hawkwing said without a glance behind him. He lifted his arm, and Snowfire took flight, soon lost amongst the higher mass of clouds.

They walked until the sun was at its peak, slowly working their way over the hills and into the rocky terrain near the mountains. Their guide led them to an outcropping of worn stone at the crest of a great hill and rounded the other side. As they joined him, they discovered a mountain waterfall and a stream that cut into the ground. It meandered further downward into the valley, where it connected with a river. Hawkwing stood there a moment and allowed them to take in the site.

Kariayla grazed her fingers along the soft moss that grew on a large rock beside the waterfall. She looked up at the tracker in wonder. “Why didn’t we hear it as we came closer?” she asked. The trickle of water became audible only after they had come into view of the stream.

Hawkwing did not answer, but his smile was carried on a breeze—there and gone again.

“I am certain we merely paid it no heed,” Arcturus said, still catching his breath. He propped himself against his staff. “Weariness has a way of dulling the senses.”

“Or maybe it’s old age,” Jinx muttered, and Kariayla stared at him wide-eyed. The thief picked up a rock and tossed it downstream. He sighed and sat down, Ruby jumping into his lap.

“I see no need for under-the-breath commentary, James. You are obviously cross with me. Express what it is that vexes you.”

“What?”

“Tell him why you’re upset,” Kariayla interpreted.

Jinx threw another rock. “Why can’t ya just believe us, Arcturus? You always gotta be right—even when you’re wrong. Like with the demon in the Plains. Like with the waterfall. Like with Hawkwing.”

The Markanturian drew himself upright. “I have had a great many more years to my life to experience a great many—”

“That don’t mean nuthin’,” Jinx interrupted. “
You
didn’t get runned over by a fire-horse.
You
didn’t see the demon coming at you.”

“Do you not think,” Arcturus began, “that there is the slightest possibility that our guide’s story had influenced your imagination?”

“No,” Jinx said stubbornly, “’cuz it wasn’t a story. Everything he said was true, and he was trying to warn us.”

“There is no logic to demons,” Arcturus reasoned.

“Yeah, and I’d’ve said guys with red skin and black eyes ain’t real.” He turned and gestured to the Markanturian. “Are you real? Maybe I’m just makin’ you up from a story.”

“Do not be absurd.” He approached the thief. “If you can gain any consolation from this,” he said, his tone gentler, “then I will admit that there was a strange magical phenomenon that occurred while we were at the second marker.”

“Yeah,” Jinx said sarcastically.

Arcturus sighed. “I have no explanation for what happened, but to dwell on the incident is pointless. Even you must agree that harboring your anger will achieve nothing.”

“So you believe me?”

“I did not see any demon; my account of the matter has not changed.”

Jinx folded his arms.

“But I will try to keep an open mind to your observations, as future incidents may arise,” Arcturus said with a casual wave of his hand.

Jinx scratched his head. “Um. Alright, I guess.” He spat on his hand and held it out.

Arcturus stared.

“Ya gotta shake on it.”

The Markanturian’s expression soured. “With one’s own saliva, James? What manner of Human custom is this?”

“Thieves’ Pact,” Jinx said, his hand still extended.

“Ah, of course.” Arcturus reached down and patted him on the shoulder. “I am not a thief, dear boy, but I will honor our agreement.”

Jinx grumbled while Arcturus lost all expression and turned to Hawkwing. “You said we would arrive before sunset.”

“Yes, and we are early,” Hawkwing replied.

“Early?”

“What, we’re there?” Jinx asked, jumping up and spilling the imp from his lap. He followed the tracker’s gaze into the valley. “Is it over the other hill or something?”

“Not all that exists can be readily seen,” Hawkwing said. “This is a hidden city.” He started down along the creek.

Kariayla glanced at the nearly-silent waterfall and smiled. “Magic,” she whispered to Jinx, and she was the next to follow. As the group approached the river, they came upon a large flock of starlings milling about and causing a racket. One step too close, and the mass of birds took off in a black cloud. When their wings had cleared, a city sat beside the river when none had been before. The river glistened like a sword, cutting the conglomeration of white-roofed structures in half. There was a stately bridge adjacent to a grand tower that jutted from the center of the city green. From the green, long buildings radiated like the spokes of a wheel. None of the travelers would have been surprised if a rainbow had arched downward to fall upon the city in a fantastical display of sorcery.

“Jedinom’s Sword,” Jinx breathed.

“It is quite remarkable...and typical of William’s antics,” Arcturus said. “Though I do not understand the need for secrecy here.”

“William can answer your questions as he chooses,” Hawkwing said. “For now, however, I need to take you to the watchmen.”

“Watchmen?” Arcturus asked. “As in a measure of security?”

“Unseen cities are not unseen without reason.”

Whitestar thumped upon the ground. “Might I remind you that William
invited
me? Forgive me if I thought I would be received as a guest and not a suspect.”

Hawkwing remained impassive. “Everyone who comes here receives the same precautionary treatment.”

Arcturus snorted. “I will be certain to inform William just how his guests are treated.”

“Bill presides over the city,” Hawkwing said with a shrug. “He created the laws by which the people abide.”

Kariayla stood next to the Markanturian. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

“Of course we do not, but I find this distrust insulting.”

“We’re all strangers here. Maybe William has a fair reason for his precautions,” she said.

“Yeah, like we’re a buncha thieves breakin’ into the city, right Arcturus?” Jinx asked, elbowing him.

“I am glad the both of you can weigh this lightly,” he said.

Hawkwing had already started forward. He glanced back only to motion them to follow. “They are expecting us.”

The companions made their way into the city in silence, finding their surroundings were no less impressive once immersed in them. The buildings and structures were mostly white marble, and the paths below them were of a similar, crushed stone. There were lanterns of colored glass along the walkways, and as the light waned, a man dressed in white tapped each of them with a long wand, and a flame ignited inside. Color and patterns spattered the white surfaces like paint, dazzling the companions’ eyes and stealing any words that might escape their lips. There were carved columns and statues and fountains which flowed despite the brisk weather.

Hawkwing had to slow his pace, but he did not hurry the others. He waited until they were following him once more, and at last he brought them to a squat little box of a building etched in vines. He stood at the door but did not enter, gesturing for them to head inside.

“Will you not be joining us?” Arcturus asked, immediately suspicious.

He did not receive an answer, for one of the watchmen peeked outside and smiled at the tall man. “I wondered when we’d see you again. You bring an interesting entourage, Master Hawkwing. Bill’s guests, I imagine?”

Hawkwing smiled back. “He was expecting only one, but as you can see, the party has grown.”

The watchman nodded. “We will take care of them and send them out to you.” He patted Arcturus on the back, and the bewildered Markanturian found himself ushered inside with the others.

“Each in turn,” the watchman announced. “We will start with our Markanturian guest.”

Arcturus stepped up to a desk where a second watchman sat before a stack of papers. “Please sit,” the scribe said without glancing upward. When Arcturus had done as requested, the man continued. “Name, origin, and occupation.”

“I am Arcturus Prentishun, most obviously from Markanturos, though I have not resided in my country for over—”

“Occupation, sir.”

Arcturus frowned. “Do you request my occupation in Markanturos or my more recent occupation in Mystland?”

The scribe finally looked up, clearly anxious to get through his work. “What is it that you do, sir?” he asked flatly.

Arcturus straightened. “I was recently the curator of a museum of magical antiquities. I hardly see how an interrogation is relevant to my visit—”

“Curator, then.” The scribe scribbled on his paper. “Assert your reason for visitation.”

“I do not even know where we are,” Arcturus protested.

“Why are you here, sir?”

“For a visit,” Arcturus snapped.

“He’s here for Master William,” the other watchman said casually. “Do get on with it, Fredrick. There are three more of them.”

The scribe grunted and shoved the paper and quill before Arcturus. “Sign. There.”

Arcturus pulled the paper away from him and drew it closer so that he could read it. “The print is terribly small.”

“If you do not sign it, you cannot stay here,” the scribe said, tugging the paper back down to the table.

“You are quite a rude fellow,” Arcturus informed him before snatching the quill and signing his name with a bold flourish.

“Welcome to Jumull,” the scribe said humorlessly. “Next!” he called over Arcturus’s shoulder.

Kariayla waited for Arcturus to vacate the chair before taking her turn. The scribe did not seem to care that she bore no surname or lacked an occupation. She signed her name and started to step aside when Jinx grabbed her arm. “Hey, can you wait here with me?”

Confused, Kariayla nodded and stood beside him.

“Name, origin, and occupation,” the scribe commanded.

“Jinx, the Freelands, and...” He looked down at his feet, and the scribe tapped his quill impatiently. “Thief.”

There was an awkward pause. “Excuse me?” the scribe asked.

“I—”

“Inventory specialist,” Kariayla blurted.

Both Jinx and the scribe looked at her. Then the thief recovered his speech. “Y-yeah. What she said.”

The scribe sighed. “Sign.”

Jinx stared at the paper in horror. “There?” He picked up the quill awkwardly—as though he had never held one before.

“Today would be nice,” the scribe said.

Jinx tried to offer the quill to Kariayla, but the man interrupted the act. “She cannot sign it for you. If you are illiterate, then speak your name, and make a mark with the quill.”

“What’s ‘illerate?’” he asked Kariayla, turning a shade of red.

“He means if you can’t read or write,” she whispered back in sympathy.

“Oh.” He pressed the tip of the quill to the paper. “Jinx,” he said, but nothing happened. “Did I do it wrong?”

“Try your real name.”

Jinx’s blush deepened. “Jameson Tyegus,” he muttered, completely humiliated. Ink blotted down from the quill and formed the name on the paper. “Can I go now?”