“Why do I have to find the sapphire dagger?” Charlie asked.
“Because it was Jordana’s, and because the portents say that you should,” Grandmother said as if this were a perfectly suitable answer. “You have all of the same signs as Jordana. That is how I know you are the one.”
She’s completely insane, Charlie realized suddenly. “And those signs are?” She looked down her nose skeptically.
“The gem of the sapphire, the element of darkness, and the virtue of courage. And I’ll have none of your eye-rolling, Madam.”
Affronted, Charlie scowled. “Darkness? That’s an element? That doesn’t sound like a favorable quality.”
“Darkness is merely the opposite of light and is necessary for balance,” Grandmother demurred. “Darkness keeps secrets and offers rest.”
Charlie decided not to ask how Grandmother had known what her “signs” were; she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She had gathered from things the woman had said and from the various books and odd objects lying around the house that this woman probably knew a lot of things through mysterious ways.
Neither said a word for a long time. Charlie watched Mystic touch noses with one of the dark horses over the corral fence outside. Grandmother continued to patiently stitch away. At last it was Charlie who spoke.
“Why do you even want me to do this?” she wanted to know. “You said the Order would be needed again soon. What does that mean? Why now, all of a sudden?”
Grandmother looked at her seriously. “Because the treaty will expire soon, and Shala still holds a deep grudge. Rumors are beginning to float around that Shala won’t wait until the treaty runs out to attack, and as Tandora has swept her past transgression under the rug, she is entirely unprepared to handle such an attack when it comes. And it will come.”
“And the Order is supposed to help with that?” Charlie asked skeptically. “It’s just me in this plan.”
“Well, don’t underestimate yourself, Dear. You’re definitely a start. And no one said this was going to happen tomorrow, but preparations should begin now.”
“And if I went? What would I be doing on this little trip of mine?” she asked quietly. “I mean, if I go. I’m not saying I will.”
“Retracing Jordana’s steps would be a good start,” was the calm reply. “Shala was where she was last seen, I believe. I’ve compiled a list of places she was known to visit. You can begin by visiting them yourself, one at a time.”
“How do you know that’s going to work?”
“Oh, I don’t. But these things have a way of working themselves out. It’s not the destination, after all. It’s the journey.”
“Oh.” Was there really any other way to reply to any of this information? “But how do I even get there?”
“There is a bridge, a magical one, that crosses the sea. It’s a narrow body of water, so it isn’t too far to walk.” Grandmother paused to re-thread her needle. “The natives of Shala are quite friendly, and their culture does not vary too much from yours superficially, so you won’t stand out much. It’s getting out of your own country that will be difficult—you’ll have to tackle the barriers along the coast I told you about. It will be quite an adventure.”
“Well, if that doesn’t make me want to go, nothing will,” Charlie grumbled. “Anything else?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Charlie declared firmly, not specifying that she meant to go home, not to Shala. “If you need me before then, I’ll likely be asleep.”
* * *
Late that night, after pacing up and down the floor of her little room for hours in deliberation, Charlie decided that this entire proposal was preposterous. She was the fifteen-year-old daughter of a nobleman. Girls didn’t travel alone; they definitely did not travel hundreds of miles into a hostile country alone in search of a missing knife. She couldn’t even think of a good reason she should attempt this. She would probably die! Or at least, wander forever in search of something that probably either didn’t exist or was lost for eternity. No, she should just go home now and try to make amends with her family. Maybe they would just think she had been lost the whole time.
Feeling confident with her decision, Charlie began to pack up her things, quietly because it was past midnight. It would be easier for her to leave now than to wait for Grandmother to try to convince her to undertake this ludicrous quest. Almost cheerfully she slung her bags over her shoulder and tucked her bedroll under her arm. As she opened the door to leave, she picked up her sword belt from the table by the door and started down the hall. Then she stopped.
This wasn’t her sword. It was the one Grandmother had given her, the one that had been Jordana’s. Keeping the little tin bowl and the gloves would be all right—but taking a sword with such special meaning seemed wrong. Going back into the room, she laid the sword on the bed rather wistfully. She had really liked it, but she couldn’t justify keeping it. She turned to go again.
This time she wasn’t sure what stopped her. She made it only halfway down the hallway before she went back. She stood at the foot of the bed and stared at the sword. She could have sworn… But no. She needed to leave. Determinedly she started out, down the hallway, down the stairs, turn left, another hallway. More stairs. Hadn’t she already passed that doorway? Charlie realized with disbelief that she was back at her room again. She peeked through the door, as if expecting the sword to be doing something. It was just lying there, like any other weapon would do.
“What do you want?” Charlie hissed in frustration. “I don’t want to go!” She considered how stupid she looked at that moment. She gave the sword a final glare, then stomped away, no longer caring if she was quiet. The same thing happened again. Discouraged, she dropped her saddlebags on the floor and picked up the sword. She eyed it suspiciously for a moment, then sighed and laid it on the nightstand. She climbed back into bed, boots and all, and pulled the worn blankets up to her chin.
Well, apparently she couldn’t leave even if she wanted to. The house wasn’t going to let her. And somehow, the sword wanted her to stay. She wasn’t sure why she thought that, if her brain was just very addled, but it wanted to be with her, and she didn’t want to leave it. Maybe it’s the magic in it, she mused, suddenly feeling sleepy. Maybe I should go. I think it wants me to. She was too asleep to notice the sword give a small tremor of agreement.
* * *
The next morning, after being properly outfitted and supplied, Charlie said a brief goodbye to Grandmother and Jacob and left the strange little house behind. To guide her on her quest, she had been given an antique map of the Eastern Lands which included Shala in its scope to supplement the more current map of Tandora she had brought with her. Grandmother had also given her a list of the places in Shala Jordana had been known to frequent or to have visited on her final trip and had even helped Charlie plot a good course on the map. Before she rode away, Grandmother pressed a tiny drawstring bag into Charlie’s fist and stared at her with an uncomfortable desperation that made her wonder afresh why it meant so much to the elderly woman to convince Charlie to go on the quest. She continued to turn over the circumstances and information she had been presented with, always trying to discern what purposes and motives were involved in this undertaking. She could barely understand why she had agreed to go, much less understand someone else’s interest.
The first part of her journey, traveling to the border of her own country and crossing into Shala, she mentally broke into steps, each to be tackled individually. She had a few more days of riding through the Eastern Forest, then she faced her first obstacle, The Forbidden Forest. On the older map, the forest had been drawn in and labeled by a more recent hand, and on her newer map, it was depicted only as an unlabeled strand of trees stretching most of the length of the country and separated from the Eastern Forest by a strip of cleared land. With such slim description, most of what she knew about the forest came from Grandmother, who had warned her that it was designed
to confuse travelers and that its edge would likely be guarded. On the other side of the forest was the wall that protected the coast and some sort of bridge that would take her to Shala.
The length of the journey caused her some concern. She was able to carry only a certain amount of food with her, and Charlie didn’t want to be left dependent on her rather untrained hunting and foraging skills. She had her bow to shoot small game, and she had already been fortunate enough to find a bit of early summer fruit, but she feared falling into a situation where her provisions were gone and she was unable to replenish them. She knew that she would have to purchase supplies when she reached a place possible to do so, but she was nervous about that too. She knew she would be an odd or suspicious character dressed as she was, but she hoped if she tucked her hair under her hat and didn’t speak much, people might assume she was just a rather feminine-looking boy.
Her first night camping, Charlie remembered the little drawstring bag Grandmother had given her. She had assumed it was money, but now that she picked it up, it didn’t clink like coins. Curious, she untied the cord and turned it upside down over her hand. What appeared to be a tiny, doll-sized book tumbled out into her palm. As she studied the miniature leather-bound volume, it began to grow. It grew larger and larger until it was the size of a regular book.
“Knife and night,” Charlie whispered in awe. So many strange and seemingly impossible things were happening lately. She didn’t think she would ever recover from the shock of unheard of orders, invisible fences, and now growing books. Life at Windsong seemed so plain and far away now, like some book she had been reading and put down.
She opened the book to the first page. “The History of the Order of the Dagger,” read the top of the page. Charlie flipped rapidly through the slim volume, finding that the first half was filled with neatly-written anecdotes and memories, a few paragraphs at a time. The second half was filled with blank paper.
A folded sheet of paper fell out of the book, and she unfolded it to find it was a note from Grandmother.
My dearest Charlie,
To aid you on your way, I’ve enclosed a history of the Order of the Dagger, containing all of the information I was able to find in old scrolls and literature. I hope you will use the blank pages to record the details of your own quest.
The book and its clever little bag were amusing little creations of Jordana. Magic books were quite popular for a while; every mage made some sort of magical reading material.
I might be able to get letters to you occasionally, and at times I may be able to have a messenger wait for your reply. If you should find yourself in great need of me, I will find you.
Sincerely,
Grandmother
Charlie shut the book and shoved it back into its bag, not the least bit surprised when it slid right in. Of course Grandmother had found a way to follow and influence Charlie along this trip—after all, it was really her trip being carried out by a younger, more agile body.
She’s picked the wrong person to manipulate, Charlie thought grimly. She isn’t going to control me while I do this.
* * *
A wide swath of cleared land separated the Eastern Forest from the Forbidden Forest. Even at a distance Charlie could see that there was something different about the other forest, something dark and deserving of the name. She had reached the treeline in such a place that she could easily see a watchtower looming along the edge of the forest, and as the sun rose, more tower-shaped shadows began to become visible at regular intervals. She thought she saw a path down the center of the clear-cut where the ground had been trampled, but she couldn’t be sure. From this distance she couldn’t see any people, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t see her, especially if they happened to have a spyglass. She dared not leave the shelter of the trees.
A horn blew from the direction of the nearest tower. Minuscule horses appeared outside the tower and began to move toward her, gradually growing larger. Charlie drew further back into the woods as they neared, praying Mystic wouldn’t make an untimely sound. She was afraid the two horsemen were coming after her, but they directed their course down the center of the lane and rode past where she was hiding without looking in her direction. She watched them ride for a long time, and eventually she could see a second set of riders coming from the opposite direction. The pairs crossed about halfway between two towers and continued on, one riding south and the other north. The forest was well-guarded.
Quietly Charlie withdrew deep into the trees to formulate a plan. If she chose a spot halfway between two towers and waited until night, she could make the crossing at a run. She would need to discern the frequency of the patrols and time her dash to have the maximum time to get out of sight. If the forest really was as impenetrable as described she was going to have a bear of a time trying to navigate it in the dark. She might have to work her way just deep enough into the trees not to be seen, then wait for morning. An entire day spent hiding waiting for a sudden flurry of activity, only to be followed immediately by more hiding.
Charlie groaned inwardly. She shouldn’t have complained so much about being bored with her life. It turned out that the price of adventure included danger and complication. At home, the hardest thing she had done was sneak past her mother, and that hadn’t been hard at all. She wasn’t sure war games with her siblings had given her the military skills she needed for this endeavor. Frankly, she was a little amazed she had succeeded so far.
Well, there was no point in spending hours in deliberation. Leaving Mystic picketed Charlie crept forward to the treeline. She found a convenient clump of shrubs and waited. The next time a pair of guards rode past the tower, she tried to track the time as best she could until the duo riding south passed another riding north, then the time it took the pair to reach the next tower. Her view of the many towers was greatly limited by the rises and dips in the land as well as the limitations of her own eyesight, but she hypothesized that each set of riders rode past several towers before turning around to ride back to the tower of their origin. After a few tedious hours, she went back to her horse and, staying well into the woods, wove her way toward the halfway point between the two nearest towers to do some more watching.
When she had finally done as much reconnaissance as she could, Charlie spent the remainder of the daylight hours putting her foraging skills to use. She found a few mushrooms that she recognized and a blackberry bush. It wasn’t very much, but snacking all afternoon made her feel full and saved her food supplies. She tried hunting too but didn’t have any luck. When dusk fell, she went to have another look at the patrol, then settled in for a long wait. She didn’t trust herself to wake up at the right time, so she would have to stay awake all night. When she felt drowsy, she walked aimless circles or recited poems to herself. She couldn’t risk lighting a fire, so there was little to do in the dark.
Some time after midnight, with dawn still a couple of hours away, Charlie saddled her horse and prepared to leave. By the light of the half moon, she crept to the edge of the forest and waited. She waited until the guard pairs with their lanterns crossed paths, then went swiftly back to get her horse. Still keeping track of the time in her head, she brought Mystic to the treeline and waited on foot. When she could barely see the lanterns in either direction, she mounted up and urged her horse quickly into the open space. She nudged Mystic into a canter, pushing the horse to cover the roughly three miles as quickly as possible. The dull thud of Mystic’s hooves on the ground was the only noise; Charlie had carefully muffled every jingling piece of metal.
When she reached the other side, Charlie stopped to let her tired horse rest. They both needed to catch their breath. After a moment of anxiously listening in the dark, she turned her attention to finding a place to hide. Up close, the Forbidden Forest was composed of huge evergreen trees that cast such thick shadows that she couldn’t see into the forest at all. It was an extraordinarily dense forest with many of the trees growing so closely together that a horse couldn’t
fit between them. She had been so relieved to reach the shelter of the trees after the exposure of the open space, but now she was daunted by the idea of riding into the dark, silent forest.
Gathering her courage, she rode down the edge of the trees, looking for a gap large enough for her horse. Several times she found a space, only to ride in a few feet and realize her way was blocked by brambles or more closely-growing trees. Charlie became increasingly frustrated and afraid as she searched. Even with the moonlight, the forest was so dark that she could barely see at all. She expected to hear the patrol pass by at any moment, and she was by necessity working her way closer to one of the towers. Dawn could only be about an hour away now. At last she found a space that allowed her to guide Mystic several yards into the trees. She was now safely hidden away, but the darkness was so complete, she could do nothing but stand and keep her horse quiet while she waited for the sun to rise.
The sun lit the field long before its rays managed to penetrate the dense canopy of the trees. Its arrival brought Charlie great relief after a night of imagined terrors, but it also meant she might become visible if someone just happened to look in the right spot. As soon as the trees materialized into solid shapes and she could see the ground at her feet, Charlie began working her way deeper into the forest. She was thwarted at once and had to back Mystic back to their previous spot as there was no room to turn around. She tried again and found the way blocked by brambles. Deciding she was just going to have to make a path, she drew her sword and gave the brambles a good hack. The blade bounced off as if she had struck it against iron, and she was knocked to the ground. The bush was unharmed.
Charlie rubbed her arm until it stopped vibrating and put the sword away. The forest was clearly opposed to any alterations at her hand. That was the work of the mages, she supposed. She took a moment to reassess. There was a little more light now, and something on the tree trunk nearest her caught her eye. When she examined it, she found it was little piece of metal nailed to the tree. Thoughtfully, she moved past it, and after several yards she found another. There was just enough space to move.
The Silver Key Page 4