The Silver Key

by Emery Gallagher

  Taking her horse with her this time, she followed the path made by the markers until she found a third. This was the most progress she had made so far, so she continued in this manner, sometimes leaving her horse to stand while she searched on foot for the next marker to indicate the way. Even knowing the path was marked, navigating the forest was still daunting. It was easy to become confused when moving only a few yards because everything looked the same in the murky light. She was vaguely aware that she not heading straight east and even wondered if she wasn’t being guided through a series of strange loops and switchbacks. There wasn’t enough sunlight for her to tell her direction by the shadows.

  After following the trail for what seemed like hours, she couldn’t find another marker. Frustrated, she searched and searched until she almost couldn’t find her horse again, but to no avail. Finally she went back to the last marker she had found and studied it. To her dismay, it was a different color of metal than the original. She had been following a false trail. Charlie tracked her way back for five deceptive signs until she found one of the proper color, then looked for the true path. Chilled by how easily she could have been lost, she was more meticulous in the future.

  She could vaguely tell when the sun was high overhead because the greenish light was at its strongest. She realized she had no real concept of how wide the forest was, and because she was certain she wasn’t tracking a straight path, she had no idea how much longer her journey would be. There was no water in the forest, and after splitting her water with her horse, her waterskin was nearly empty. It occurred to her that the path the markers were guiding her along might not ever emerge to the other side. This trail could be just as false as the dead-end detour she had taken. Perhaps that was the real, sinister trick to the forest; a traveler was made to believe in a way through, only to be left hopelessly lost.

  Her growing anxiety reached its peak when something out of place caught her eye as she struggled through the underbrush, searching. She went to it immediately and without thinking reached out to brush the pine needles away. As soon as she touched it, she realized what it was and jerked away with a small cry. It was a body, nearly a skeleton really, dressed in men’s clothing. Charlie sat back on her heels and took deep breaths until her heart resumed a more reasonable pace. So it was definitely possible to wander this forest until you died. One step too far away from a known point, and you might never find your way back to it. And that was assuming the path even led anywhere.

  Charlie took one more deep breath to fortify herself and stood. There wasn’t really anything to do except keep going. Even if the trail was false, her other options were to try to follow it backward until she reached the clear-cut patrolled by the guards or to sit down and wait until she joined the corpse. Neither option was particular appealing, so she went onward, taking great care in her search for the markers. What little light there was in the forest began to fade, and she feared she would have to spend the night sitting still on the forest floor. She couldn’t risk losing her way in the dark trying to find the little pieces of metal nailed to the trees. She had the stub of a candle in her bag, but it wouldn’t last long, and she might need to save it for a more urgent situation.

  But at last she began to catch what might be glimpses of sky through the trees. She kept going as she was, ignoring the temptation to head toward the light. It was terribly dim when she finally spied land through the tree trunks. Finally she stepped out of the forest and into a moonlit clearing. She had reached a long, narrow strip of land bordered on one side by the forest and by a high wall on the other, but she could make out little more than that in the dark. She took a moment to stand with her face turned up to the open sky, just enjoying the freedom from the claustrophobic forest.

  Next—on to more practical matters. She scoured until she found a small pool of rainwater collected in a rocky basin, and she and Mystic both drank deeply. She picketed her horse to graze, and eschewing any dinner, rolled out her bed. Settling down in exhaustion, her stomach hurting a little from too much water, Charlie sighed. She had survived a journey through the Forbidden Forest. No one had likely stood on the ground she stood on in over a hundred years. Of course, she was now trapped on a narrow piece of land with a nearly insurmountable obstacle on either side.

  But she preferred to approach her challenges one at a time. She would worry about the next one in the morning.

  * * *

  The wall bordering the sea was a beautiful display of architecture, a long ribbon of gleaming gray stone with masonry so exact a knife couldn’t be wedged between the stones. It was only about twenty feet high, a height easily scaled by a ladder or rope but sufficient to stop horses or wagons from crossing. Its effectiveness as a barrier was evident by how easily it stopped her; the wall could have been half its height, and she still couldn’t have gone over it with a horse. Charlie turned to the papers Grandmother had given her for ideas.

  Grandmother had told her there was a way through the wall, but Charlie found the information given to be rather scanty. She found a brief snippet suggesting there was a gate of some sort that was hidden by some magical means, but the secret to its location was unknown. Grandmother had included a note suggesting that Charlie try a few traditional means of discerning the magically hidden such as viewing things in a mirror, casting water upon a surface, or tapping along the wall to listen for differences in the sound. All three seemed like perfectly reasonable methods to discern a hidden door in a room, but Charlie was trying to find an opening in a wall that ran almost the entire length of the eastern coast of Tandora. She couldn’t throw water droplets against over surface of a twenty-foot wall.

  With no better ideas, she decided to try the mirror method as it seemed the most practical. With her tiny hand mirror at the ready, she proceeded slowly down the length of the wall on horseback, examining the wall in front of her for abnormalities, then the wall behind her in the mirror. Her progress was terribly slow, and her head began to hurt after an hour of so much squinting. Under some idea that the gate might possibly be placed close to the exit from the forest, she rode back to where she started and repeated the search in the other direction for a bit. Then she realized that it was possible that there were multiple entrances and exits along the length of the Forbidden Forest; after all, what were the chances that she had found an entrance close to the spot she had chosen to look? Her luck didn’t seem to be nearly so good now.

  Around mid-afternoon, Charlie sat down to rest and indulge in some self-pity. She could search for days, weeks even, in this manner and never find the gate. She could have passed it already and not noticed. She could be using the entirely wrong method of searching. If she couldn’t find a way across the wall, she would be stuck here in the space between the forest and the wall until she starved, or she would have to go back through the forest and risk being caught.

  Perhaps she had been going about this wrong from the start. The obstacles meant to keep the two countries separated were ridiculous in their excess. She should have gone north to Fallond, then crossed into Shala from there. She had come this way because she had been told to. It had not occurred to her to argue, but now she berated herself for her stupidity. Her experience with the forest had given her a graver perspective of the dangers she faced. Even if she survived her first two trials and managed to cross the wall, there was still a chance she would find herself trapped between the wall and the sea because she had no inkling of how to manage that either. Perhaps she should reassess her route. The wall didn’t encircle all of the Tandoran coast, just the eastern side, so surely there was a place where she could go around it, back to the mainland proper. She took out her map to scrutinize it.

  She was squinting at the topmost point of the wall and the forest when a large raindrop landed in the center of the map. Charlie looked up and was immediately struck in the face by another. She just barely managed to get the map put away before the sky began to pour.

  “Ugh!” Charlie exclaimed loudly. There really was
n’t any shelter to be had. She stood Mystic as close to the forest as she could without risking actually going back into it, and the evergreen branches lessened the deluge somewhat. Unreasonably annoyed, Charlie shrugged her cloak on over her already-soaked clothing and looked out at the wall with hatred.

  The sudden shower didn’t last long, and she stepped out of the shelter of the trees to survey the damp scene. As she looked around, something sparkled at the corner of her eye. When she turned to look at it, it was gone. She looked forward, and again there was a tiny glimmer at the edge of her vision. After a few attempts, she determined that the sparkle was coming from a section of the wall several miles down. Charlie took her mirror out and used it to view that bit of wall. There was definitely something rather shimmering about it.

  Excited, Charlie rode down to the spot. As she approached she could see that some of the stone had subtly changed color when soaked by the rain. When she was close, she looked at it again in the mirror. It was definitely aglow now, like flecks of quartz glittering in the sun. She was convinced it was the gate; now she just needed to figure out how to open it. She ran her hands over as much of the twenty-foot-wide piece of wall as she could, using Mystic to gain some additional height. The damp stone was as smooth as polished marble, and she couldn’t find any secret crevices or levers.

  “Well,” Charlie said to Mystic, having no one else to talk to, “what do we do now?”

  Mystic tore at some of the high grass and indicated that this was actually Charlie’s problem.

  The mirror trick had worked before, so she tried it again, hoping to glean some additional clues. Her efforts were rewarded when she was able to discern a sort of pattern in the shimmering light, something vaguely like writing but not in any language she recognized. It was within reach from the ground, so she tried to trace its peaks and curves down the length of the wall with her free hand. The difference in the light was very subtle, and it was difficult to view something in a mirror over her shoulder and try to touch it at the same time. It took her several tries to trace her fingers down the entire length of the swooping design.

  There was a visible flash of light, and Charlie spun around to look. The flash had come from the pattern she had traced, which was now gently fading from a bright yellow to a sooty black. The entire section of wall shimmered like a mirage in the hot sun, and the stone began to grow more and more transparent until it looked like the mist floating over a pond. In amazement, Charlie stuck her arm into the mist, and it went right through. Thrilled, she grabbed Mystic’s bridle and tried to pull her through to the other side. The horse balked at being asked to walk into the semi-transparent fog, but eventually Charlie was able to convince her to move. They stepped through to the other side of the wall.

  Just yards away from where she stood was the sea, a seemingly endless expanse of dark, rippling water. With the last rays of the sun reflecting on the water, it was an amazing sight. She walked to the edge of the jagged coast and looked down to where the white-topped waves crashed into the rocks below, sending salty spray high into the air. The sound and smell of the sea were intoxicating. She wanted to look forever, and she wished it wasn’t too steep to climb down to.

  When she finally tore herself away, Charlie surveyed the area on which she now stood. The wall had closed behind her, as solid and smooth as before. She had now reached the fourth narrow stripe in her tapestry of obstacles. This side of the wall was even more bleak and barren than the other. The vegetation was more sparse, perhaps because of the salty air, and she doubted there would be many animals. She was struck again by the precariousness of her position, alone in a place that offered few resources, but oddly, she no longer felt afraid.

  “Two down, and one to go,” Charlie murmured, turning to look at the sea again, barely visible now in the dusk. “Nowhere to go but onward.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Charlie ran out to the coast as soon as she woke to have another look. The sea looked different in the morning light, the deep blue water stretching out like sky pulled down to earth. The foaming waves that crashed against the rocks smoothed into more gentle ripples further out, then into a dark glass that reflected the sunlight in fragments. She found the furthest point over the water that she could and stood on the rocky cliff, letting the wind blow spray into her face. A particularly large wave surprised her with the force with which it struck the rock, nearly soaking her. She soon retreated back away from the harsh wind and surprisingly cold water, glad for the warm sun to dry her clothes. Remembering her responsibilities, she went to find water for her horse and eat her breakfast.

  Morning routine done with, she did her her usual consultation of her notes for details. This time she was more fortunate in her findings. The paragraph Grandmother had written for her stipulated that the bridge would extend from a hilltop, and she had also offered some speculation that it was likely to be fairly close to the gate in the wall, for practical reasons. Charlie was all in favor of this task being easier than the others, but she was a little baffled by how to recognize the bridge. She wasn’t sure what she had pictured when Grandmother had described it as “magical,” but there was clearly nothing arcing over the water right now. She supposed it must be similar to the hidden gate in the wall.

  After picketing her horse where she could graze freely, she set off on foot down the coast toward the nearest hill to investigate. She was running perilously low on food, so she took her bow along and kept an eye out for anything edible as she went. The landscape was terribly overgrown and trekking through the high grass and tangled weeds left her breathless. She was in much hardier condition now than when she had left home, but hiking was an entirely different exercise than riding, and her legs burned with the effort.

  The first hilltop showed no promise, so she started off toward the next one she saw. After the third hill to the north, Charlie turned back to try a few south of her camp. Along the way she happened upon a rabbit whose sad fate was the cook pot and stopped at her camp to roast and eat it. There was a time when having to kill, skin, and eat such a gentle animal would have bothered her, but that was a time when obtaining food required showing up at a table or even simply summoning a servant to bring it to her. She tried to dry what she didn’t eat over the fire in thin strips, but she was skeptical about the results. Leaving the fire to do its best, she set off again, cheered a bit by the full stomach.

  The second hill to the south was the largest, and she had high hopes for it. The climb was grueling, and she was almost grateful when she had to stop to unwind thorny vines from her legs just for the rest. At the top, she shuffled her feet through the matted grass and studied the ground looking for signs. A flash of stone caught her eye. With her foot, she scraped at the tangled grass until she cleared a spot large enough to see that whatever it was couldn’t be natural. She used her hands to clear the rest of the grass away, cutting through the stubborn clumps with her belt knife, until she could clearly see what it was. Set into the top of the hill was a large, slightly raised, flat square of stone. Words were inscribed deep into the surface of the stone above a slot like a keyhole.

  A turn of the key

  A step of faith

  And you will find

  A way that is safe

  “Of course,” Charlie sighed. “I should have known there would be a catch. I don’t have the key.”

  Exhausted and a bit dispirited, she leaned back until she lay flat on the stone and stared upward at the sky. She was very close to the answer, but stumped yet again. Absently, she slid her sword from its scabbard and looked at it thoughtfully. What would Jordana, the mighty leader of the Order of the Dagger do now? she mused. Something crazy, from the sound of her. She didn’t know why, but the sword had sparked an idea. Turning, Charlie cleared the debris away from the keyhole that had been under the riddle. She slipped the point of her sword into the keyhole and twisted it slowly to the left. To her delight, it turned with a soft scraping sound.

  But she didn’t see a b
ridge. What had the rhyme said? A turn of the key, a step of faith…So that was next—a step of faith. A step onto what? She assumed it was a step onto the bridge she couldn’t see. She slowly stepped onto the spot where she thought the bridge might be. Nothing happened. Puzzled, she tried again, this time jumping quickly and firmly with both feet.

  A pale blue streak shot from the stone and under her feet, stretching in an arc across the water. It looked like a wide, almost translucent stream but felt perfectly stable under her boots. Tall, latticed handrails materialized on both sides. It was not the sturdy, mundane bridge she had hoped for, but it was a bridge nonetheless, and it would carry her to the other side. She was going to reach a point soon where all of these magical artifacts would no longer make her bat an eye.

  The day was well-advanced—she would leave across the bridge with the dawn to maximize the daylight. She twisted her sword to the right and pulled it free. The bridge receded instantly back into the stone. Sliding her sword back into the scabbard, she jumped from the platform and returned to her camp to prepare for the crossing. It was time to see a new country.

  * * *

  In the early morning light, the bridge looked even more ethereal and fragile than it had the day before. Its opposite end was lost somewhere in the hazy light of the horizon. Still, it felt sturdy, and it was her only way across. Getting Mystic to step onto the bridge turned out to be easier than she had expected; the mare followed her onto the rather translucent bridge as though having resigned herself to all the torture she was being put through. Charlie well understood the feeling.

  Still, Charlie had reservations about the logistics of the journey. Grandmother had said the sea was narrow and that Charlie could walk the distance, but she couldn’t see to the other side, so it must be far. That was a long way to go with no certainty of water. More so than the forest maze or the wall, the very idea of the bridge made her feel both trapped and exposed. If something were to go wrong, there was nowhere to turn away to and nowhere to seek shelter. The bridge and its rails felt secure and firm, but she couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of falling into the dark water. The bridge arced gently over the water and leveled out about ten feet above the waves, but the drop looked ominous just the same.