A Sprinkling of Thought Dust

by Steven & Margaret Larson

EARLY PASSAGE

  March

  Electrum kept the letter with him at all times. During the day it was buttoned into his pocket, and at night he slept with it tucked under his pillow. It was a relief when the King finally made the announcement that the Passage River was open.

  The Salamander was always the first ship to make the spring passage. Ragnar had arrived the evening before. Reluctantly he had agreed to take Electrum back to the Gold Realm as a passenger, though he warned the accommodations would not be plush.

  Electrum fingered the thick envelope. It had a few smudges on it, but Simon’s seal was still neatly spread across the flap. As he had done numerous times in the last few weeks, he held it up to the glowstone. Nothing showed through. Disappointed, he tucked it into his jacket pocket and buttoned it down securely. It would still be chilly in the Tween World.

  Simon was probably with the King, but he wanted a quick word with the librarian before setting off on his errand to the Gold Realm. He pressed his hat firmly over his ears and headed out.

  The library was the only room in the palace tree with solid walls. They protected the scrolls from sunlight and morning mist.

  He expected the room to be dark, but light from a glowstone seeped under the door tapestry. He was in luck. Simon must be doing more of his endless cataloging. He pulled back the tapestry and stepped inside.

  The cloth slipped unnoticed from his fingers and fell back in place. Instead of Simon, Silverthorn was hunched over a table. In front of him a yellowed scroll lay open, its edges tattered from age. The prince looked up.

  “Oh, hello, Electrum.” He stood and let the scroll close. “I thought you’d be at the dock by now. Aren’t you heading to the Gold Realm for the day?”

  “I was looking for Simon. Shouldn’t you be having your lessons with Sterling right about now?”

  “Is it that late already? I was just heading that way.” He crossed the room. “Shall we go?” He took the pookah’s arm and reached for the tapestry.

  Electrum looked over his shoulder. Gilder was sliding the scroll back onto the shelf. He frowned. “What were you reading? Isn’t it a little early for you to be musing over scrolls?”

  Silverthorn led him out into the hall where they wove their way past servants and well-dressed nobility.

  “You’re always telling me to study. Just taking your advice.” Two ladies passed between them and Silverthorn stepped away. “You can vouch for me with Sterling,” he said. His strides lengthened.

  “Wait,” Electrum said trying to get around the ladies without appearing too rude.

  Silverthorn waved. “Have a good trip,” his voice drifted back, and he disappeared down the corridor.

  Electrum debated following, but Ragnar’s ship would not wait. The envelope crinkled in his chest pocket. He would talk to the prince when he returned. He headed for the dock.

  Captain Ragnar leaned over the railing, his fat middle pressing through the bars. He shifted the stem of grass he was chewing to the other side of his mouth. “Hoy, Electrum.”

  “Hoy, Ragnar. How’s the latest crop of pollywogs? I trust you’ll get some work out of them this year.”

  “Ha! They are all probably planning to jump ship and play in the Tween World as soon as they get through the gate.”

  “Not under your watchful eye.”

  “Don’t suppose you have any more at home like Silverthorn? A hard worker that one.”

  “I’m lucky I don’t have any more like him to raise. Did you save me a spare corner?”

  Ragnar chuckled. “No spare corners on this load, but you can join me in my cabin. Got a new batch of tiger lily extract.”

  As Electrum boarded, the captain was leaning over the bow and patting the head of the enamel salamander figurehead attached to the front of the ship.

  “For luck,” Ragnar said. He led the way, weaving through crates and barrels secured to the deck and entered the small cabin. Electrum squeezed through the door and sat down on a crate where he could look out the wide opening that served as a window.

  Ragnar turned around with a wood flask in his hand. With a grunt he settled into the only chair.

  “What’s so urgent about this trip to the Gold Realm?’ he asked as he poured a clear orange liquid into quartz glasses.

  “Simon has sent me on another of his missions.”

  “It’s not regarding any of my shipments,” Ragnar said with a twinkle in his eye. “What dreaded official are you dealing with this time? Are you perhaps carrying a message from one of the gatekeepers?”

  Electrum said with mock despair, “I’m afraid my meeting is with Mirta.”

  “Mirta! He should be sending someone with the flair and prestige of a world voyager. A ship’s captain, such as myself, would be more suited to carry a message to the elegant lady.”

  Electrum grinned. “A rogue like you? Some things are better handled by the educated.”

  “You were happy enough to hang out with this rogue when we were just tads and explored the Tween World together.”

  “We did have some great adventures jumping ship and exploring. A few times I didn’t think we were going to make it back to the ship before she entered the gate, but we always made it just in time.”

  “So how are things at your bookish palace? Rumors on the ships say the prince doesn’t share your enthusiasm for education. They have him forsaking his studies and pining away for a gold merchant girl.”

  Electrum picked up his glass. The drink had a heavy, earthy scent. It went down almost tasteless, but left a lingering warm sensation in his throat.

  “Half truths and embellished tales,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Same sort as when we were tads and serving with the pollywogs.”

  “Like the tales that we had secret communications with the gatekeepers?” Ragnar said.

  “Exactly. Tads are fascinated with the secretiveness. They all want to be connected with the keepers and learn how the gates work. Some isolationists, like Sterling, want to know for the wrong reasons.”

  “Yes, if the art of keeping the gates open became known, it would be all too easy to close them forever or to wreck havoc with the merchant trade.”

  “Or so we’ve been told,” Electrum said. “It might all be just stories. The pollywogs used to say we morphed into dragons and fought giants in the Tween World.”

  Ragnar chuckled. “I would have loved to have been able to do half the things they credited us with. It was the lessons on The Perils of the Passage River that fed their fancies. Once they were taught the dangers of sailing, their imaginations ran wild.”

  Electrum nodded and took another drink. “The lessons on commerce were lost on them.”

  “I think they slept through the lessons on commerce, and bartering. I know I slept through some of them.” His stomach jiggled as he laughed.

  Electrum’s eyes were half shut as he listened to the rhythmic slap of the water against the ship. In his mind he could hear the teacher’s voice murmuring about the price of glowstones and wooden casks.

  The ship drifted out of the harbor toward a mountainside where the water flowed into a yawning hole lined with quartz. It opened like the mouth of a large cave. Spots of light shone over the arched top and a heavy glowing mist filled the inside.

  The river and the ships wouldn’t appear on the other side of the mountain, but would emerge into the Tween World.

  As they neared the opening, Ragnar excused himself to concentrate on cloaking the ship. Electrum looked out over the water. Other ships in the harbor were also being cloaked by their captains. They shimmered and took on the form of tree limbs or driftwood, each with its own distinctive disguise.

  One looked like a gnarled oak log and another resembled a pine limb with glossy needles. Although the Salamander still looked the same to those on board, Electrum knew it now appeared to be a floating birch log with peeling white bark.

  As they passed under the arch, the glowing mist enveloped the ship hiding everythin
g else from view. Only random spots of light seeping through the vapor gave hints of stone walls. The mist was thicker than Electrum could ever remember. It was cold and damp and lay heavy on his skin making it prickle. They seemed suspended in space. Time lost its meaning as if the gate were holding its breath. Then the mist cleared, and morning sunlight from the Tween World crept over the ship.

  Electrum glanced back. The opening was filled with the bright mist. Green ivy vines grew out of patches of brown grass. They covered the arch and fluttered over the opening.

  The air here was brisk with an invigorating chill. Trees in the distance had a touch of color where they were just starting to bud. The river carried them past huge holly bushes spotted with bright berries from the last season. The bushes kept the eastern bank covered in shadow. Farther up river he could see a giant’s wooden footbridge.

  Ragnar stirred and opened his eyes. “The passage mist is heavier this year. Hard to maneuver. It feels old and sluggish.”

  “Maybe it’s us that are getting old and sluggish.”

  “Humph. Speak for yourself. The mist was definitely thinner when I made my first trip through the gate as a young captain. Why I could practically see the Tween World before the Salamander poked its nose out.”

  “Your eyes were younger back then, but you still didn’t see that little girl,” Electrum said.

  “She may have been young, but she wasn’t all that little,” Ragnar said. “Not sure how I missed her. She stood on that bridge and pulled my ship right out of the water. Pollywogs scattered everywhere.” He placed his hands on his belly. “I wasn’t as prosperous then, and I still just had time to take to the air before my wings could be drenched.”

  Electrum chuckled. “You caused quite a stir with the merchants. No one had ever heard of a pookah confronting a human before.”

  He shrugged. “I was young. Not a rational thought in my head at the time. All I could think of was not losing my first ship. It wasn’t paid for you know. I’ll never forget the look of surprise on her face when I flew up and had my say.”

  “It must have been quite a speech.”

  “Can’t remember a word of it, but she must have been impressed.”

  A shadow spread over them as they passed under the bridge.

  “Before she put the ship back in the water, she took the broach off her collar and drove it into the bow of my ship. Right then I named the ship the Salamander. It’s been there ever since. I sort of see it as my symbol of safe passage.”

  “You’ve built a tidy shipping career.”

  “I manage. I could be more successful if I had a few more inroads with the big merchants. Dealing with some of them is almost like dealing with royalty.”

  “Neither of us will have to deal with them much longer. We’re both getting near retirement age.”

  Ragnar snorted. “You plan on retiring?”

  “Indeed,” Electrum said. “I have a small pine tree picked out next to the ship launchers. Nice view of the water. String my hammock over the low hanging branch and sleep with the sound of the water lapping against the bank.”

  “If you’re not careful your hammock will turn into a cocoon. Life is activity. You need to move as long as you can.”

  Electrum was hurt. “Well, I was thinking about a small boat,” he said a little sulkily.

  “You’re drifting, my friend. You need to change rivers, not get a boat.”

  The river flowed around a pile of boulders. As they made the turn, a break in the rocks appeared with a long flat rock balanced over the top like a roof. The ship slid silently underneath. Sheer rock walls on either side reached up to the solid top. The mist surrounding the ship felt dry and the air was warm. They emerged into the Gold Realm.

  A hot breeze brushed Electrum’s face and he squinted in the bright sunlight. The gold harbor was set at the foot of a mountain. Shops, homes, and public buildings were honeycombed into the rock.

  Like tangled ribbons, the narrow streets climbed upward at crazy angles as they followed the natural formations.

  Greetings were called to him as they docked. Well-muscled pollywogs hauled cargo off the ship while an old wizened sprite stood at the end of a gangplank making marks on a scroll.

  “Hoy there, Mothwings,” he called and waved the parchment at him. “What brings you here? Tired of all that soft living at the palace?”

  Electrum waved. “Just thought I’d come spend some time with you barge flies.”

  The dock rang with the old sprite’s raucous laugher.

  Electrum said farewell to Ragnar. As he made his way up the street, calls and clamor from vendors replaced noise from the harbor. Electrum squeezed past kiosks and carts. Warehouses gave way to bustling businesses and small shops as he climbed higher into the city.

  Merchants stood in doorways. With a practiced eye, they sized up prospects and didn’t give him a second glance. Higher up on the hill, the glowstones over the door to PoJoe’s shop glistened in the sun.

  Electrum turned down a side street and stopped in front of a sign that read Mirta’s Woven Dreams.