By Moonrise

by Jackie Dana

  “Aye, that matches what I’ve heard about him, that he’s a pleasant fellow, but very driven, and hard to get to know or understand.”

  That made her laugh. “Well, you may not have met him, but it sounds like you know him pretty well anyway.”

  Chapter 11

  A pair of towers, spiraling up into the clouds, shimmered in the dawn sun against the base of a tall mountain.

  “Welcome to Altopon,” Sebachin announced.

  They had spent the evening trading tales—she told him about the quantrill, and he shared stories from his childhood. For a few hours, as darkness enveloped them on the river, it was easy to forget where she was, and as the boat bobbed up and down, she finally dozed off again on the pillows.

  Now that the sun had risen, the shiny towers served as a stark reminder that this was not the world she knew.

  He pointed to a large stone standing upright on the bank just ahead. “That’s one of the torrapon stones. If you look, you’ll see more off to the distance.”

  Torrapon. She had heard that word before. “What are they?”

  “I suppose the easiest way to explain them is that they’re boundary markers. The ancient Mosumi peoples used them to mark off sacred spaces. Some torrapons are small pavilion structures, like what you’ll find outside of Loraden, while others are much larger. This one encircles Altopon. Rather than a wall, it’s the torrapon that provides the majority of the city’s defenses.”

  “A stone circle provides defense?”

  He nodded. “You can’t pass through the stones unless invited by Sarnoc or myself.”

  “Can’t?” she repeated. “Or shouldn’t?”

  He turned towards her, and the sun washed over his features. He had the greenest eyes she had ever seen, and he had a nice smile. “If you do not have good intentions, the stones will prevent you from passing through.”

  “You’re serious?”

  He nodded once again. “Aye. You should always respect a torrapon when you come across one.”

  “Point taken. So what are they, exactly? Other than just defensive structures, I mean.”

  “Ah, well, the torrapon isn’t actually here for defense. Its primary purpose is to focus energy. Torrapons are also the locations where the gods’ powers are the strongest, so they can serve as portals between worlds.”

  “So is that how I—”

  “Aye.” He winked at her. “Patience, Kate. We will have time to discuss this soon enough.”

  He steered the craft towards a long, floating wooden dock that was lashed to pillars along the bank of the river, at the base of a steep hill. Other crafts similar to his were already tied up along the dock. After he maneuvered the boat into position, he waved to a young man cleaning his own river craft. “Well met, Tovandar.”

  Tovandar raised his head. “Ah, Seb, good to see you out on the water again. It’s been a while, has it not?”

  “Aye, the Sarnoc keep me busy. This is my friend Kate. She will be visiting for a while.”

  He brushed thick pale blond hair from his eyes. “Welcome to Altopon. Watch out for that Pasadhi, he’s quite the ladies man around here.”

  Kate turned to Sebachin and raised an eyebrow.

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s just a joke—right, Tovandar?”

  The riversmith took one look at Sebachin’s pained expression and cracked up. “Point for me, Seb.”

  “What?” Kate looked between the men, not understanding.

  “Come on, Tov, poor Kate here is a visitor to Sarducia. She doesn’t understand.”

  Tovandar grabbed a sack from the boat and climbed up on the dock, offering Kate a hand to do the same. “Don’t worry, you won’t fall,” he assured her as she placed a foot tentatively on the dock. “The riversmiths just like teasing your friend here. It’s hard to embarrass him, but we like to try.”

  “I’ll get even, don’t worry!” Sebachin called back at him.

  Grinning, Tovandar helped her climb onto the bank, and then led her to a wide stone staircase that was built into the hillside. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Bhara Kate,” he said, nodding his head politely. “I do hope you’ll enjoy your time here.” At the base of the steps stood a young man with red hair, and wearing a grey tunic, his hands folded in front of him as he waited for their arrival.

  “Kate, I’ll be joining shortly,” Sebachin called out from the dock. “I need to tie up the rivercraft and do a few things first. Laliri Tanvi will escort you from here.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  “Sure I am, but I need to tend to the boat. I’ll be along soon, I promise.”

  “I don’t mind waiting.”

  “Aye, but the Sarnoc might. You’re in good hands here, so there’s nothing to fear.”

  “All right,” she said. She was skeptical, but as pleasant as he had been, she agreed to extend her trust a little further.

  The steps were quite steep, and when they reached the top, Kate got her first full glimpse of the Sarnoc city. To her left was a wide road that led downhill to a city spread out in the valley below, tucked in at the base of another mountain, and bordered on the side opposite the river by what looked like another dense forest. In front of her, at the top of the rise, was a series of large buildings punctuated by the two white spiral towers she had seen earlier. In the center was a building capped with what looked like a massive sapphire sparkling in the sun. Beyond the large buildings lay manicured gardens and further off, an orchard.

  “Wow.” She stopped to take it all in. “It’s beautiful.”

  The youth smiled, but said nothing. He waved her to follow him down a gravel path towards the buildings, and then across a lawn of fern-leaved yarrow, until they reached a small circular garden sheltered by trellises. “I welcome you on behalf of the Sarnoc, and will inform them that you are here.” Without further explanation, he bowed his head once and then simply walked away.

  She tried to swallow her anxiety and wear a brave face, a task made even more difficult by the vision before her. She stared at the building with the blue dome and then the towers. What was most remarkable about all of the structures, as well as the giant stones of the torrapon, was that everything appeared to be constructed from the same pale stone that shimmered ever so slightly in the morning sunlight. And in contrast to the dingy city of Loraden, here everything was clean, bright, spacious, and green.

  Where she stood was also remarkably quiet. She reached up to a vine twisting up the trellis, pulling it a bit closer so she could inspect the unusual purple pods hanging from it. That’s when she discovered that inside the trellises, the garden had a single inlaid stone path spiraling inward. After looking around and seeing no one nearby other than a few sheep off in the distance, she found herself compelled to walk the path, leaning over to smell a clump of pale blue flowers.

  As she reached the center of the garden, where a single tree stood to mark the spot, she suddenly felt the presence of someone else behind her. Whirling around, she found herself face to face with a man in a tunic of white silk, embellished with silver embroidery along the cuffs and hem, and belted with a length of green cord. His hair was a dark blond, though greying at the temples, and he wore it long, in a thick plait down his back. His eyes—a piercing blue that threatened to delve deep into her soul and uncover all of her secrets—wordlessly confirmed his identity as Sarnoc.

  Still, he introduced himself to her. “Greetings, Bhara Kate, I am Sarnoc Vaj.” Before she could ask him anything, he turned back down the spiral path. “Come with me.”

  She had a dozen questions she wanted to ask, rapid fire, but she had to channel all of her energy into following him, as his long strides made his pace much faster than she was accustomed, and he showed no inclination to match her own speed.

  He led her across the lawn to the domed building, and to a pair of tall wooden doors flanked by two young men, both unarmed and, like the boy who had led her to the garden, wearing grey tunics. Unlike Loraden keep’s dark smoky hallways, they
continued their rapid pace down a bright corridor with walls of silver-flecked rose marble. Overhead, the rising sun streamed down from an arcade of glass windows—the first glass that she had seen in Sarducia. The floors were also marble, and the walls were left bare.

  Several times they passed more of the young men in tidy gray tunics, and each time, although they never spoke, the youths would bow their heads in deference to the Sarnoc.

  Moments later he was conducting her through double doors inlaid with dozens of sparkling stones.

  “This is the Sarnoc great hall, and audience chamber," he explained. “Here all Sarnoc and laliri—our novices, the ones in gray—come to share news and learn from each other.” It was this room for which the brilliant blue glass dome served as a roof and skylight, allowing sunlight to brighten the entire chamber without being blinding. In the center of the round room was a slender marble pillar that in turn supported a series of walkways and galleries overhead. The walls were covered in the same shimmery stones she had seen on the outside, the tables and chairs were fashioned from a pale carved wood, and the floor was white marble.

  Rather than remaining in this spectacular room, Vaj continued through one of the archways and down a hallway into a smaller chamber, where he lit a small glass lantern, and then pushed open a door to a stairwell.

  There could be no doubt. This was one of the towers she had just seen. The base was quite wide, though the stairs themselves were narrow. Like a seashell, it twisted upon itself, climbing forever higher, with walls of tightly-fitted stones, carved to fit the curve of the staircase. As she began to climb, to her right at all times was the spine, the stem from which each step sprung. To her left, hanging from small iron rings set into the wall, was a rope serving as a handrail. After years of use the rope had been rubbed smooth from a great many hands, and the stone steps were polished as smooth as glass, each with a slight depression where feet had worn down the surface. She grabbed the hem of her skirt and took the first step, and then switched hands, uncertain whether the rope or a hand on the spine would steady her better. She didn’t relish an ungraceful, and likely painful, descent back to her starting point. Occasionally a tiny window punctured the bare walls, just large enough to allow in a wisp of fresh air. With the curvature of the tower, they did not provide enough light to illuminate the stairwell itself, forcing her to rely on the light carried by the Sarnoc.

  Sarnoc Vaj took the steps lightly and surely, his tunic concealing what must have been an exceptionally healthy physique. He would make a great marathon runner, she decided, dismayed more than ever that she could not keep up with his pace.

  The tower was quite tall, and it didn’t take long for her legs to grow heavy, and she gasped for fleeting breaths. When she paused for a moment to rest, she found herself cut off from the light of the Sarnoc’s lamp. In the dim stairwell, she tottered. She didn’t like dark, confined spaces, and she struggled to keep going, her breathing growing more labored from her exertion now tinged with anxiety.

  Suddenly the space she occupied filled with a bluish-green glow.

  «You must hurry. I cannot sustain the light for long.»

  The sound of the voice startled her, and she stumbled on the next step, catching herself with her hand on the rope. She looked over her shoulder, but there was no one there. Where did that voice come from, she wondered. It couldn’t have been the Sarnoc—it was as if it had been spoken right into her ear.

  «Please continue up the stairs, towards my light. I am not far ahead.» The voice instructed her, yet now she realized that the words had not been spoken at all. The voice came from within her head. Telepathy?

  She did not pause to rationalize this thought further, but instead took his suggestion and picked up her pace. The blue light followed as she ascended, extinguishing itself in the stairwell behind her. Soon she caught up to him, and once within the glow of his lamp, the blue light faded. Vaj said nothing at her reappearance, but resumed the climb, albeit at a slower pace, with a few pauses to allow her to catch up.

  Eventually they reached a dark landing at the top of the staircase, where a pair of doors greeted them. Her legs were rubbery from the steep climb, and the Sarnoc allowed her a moment to recover and again catch her breath.

  As she did so, in the flickering glow of his lamp, she examined the wooden door in front of her. It was a single polished surface, the surface so smooth it reflected the light. There were neither hinges nor a handle or knob. As she wondered how to open it, Sarnoc Vaj solved the mystery. He placed his hand, palm flat, against the door’s surface. Effortlessly, it gave way to his touch, swinging smoothly and completely open. “We have arrived.”

  Chapter 12

  They entered a semi-circular room with a row of tall, skinny windows and a round table in the center, with a fire blazing in the fireplace. Sarnoc Vaj waved her to one of the wooden chairs cushioned with white pillows, and as she sat down he reached to the silver decanter in the center of the table, pouring a pale rose-tinted liquid into two of three crystal goblets, one of which he placed in front of her. Then he sat across from her, folded his hands on the table and sat silently, watching her.

  “That was you speaking to me in the stairs? In my head?”

  «Aye. Sarnoc can communicate without speech, by touching the minds of their listeners.»

  He had done it again. “So you can read my mind?” She was instantly apprehensive at the invasion. “I never thought anyone could... that something like that would be possible.”

  «It is not,» he reassured her, using the same form of communication. «We Sarnoc can speak through minds, but we cannot gain access to what another is thinking. Only another Sarnoc could answer me in the same way as I am communicating with you now. Even then, it is simply an ancient form of communication, particularly useful over distances. I assure you, one’s private thoughts—the Sarnoc’s, or another’s—are never endangered.»

  Her worries only moderately eased, she considered this information. “And the light?”

  «A skill, you could say, that we learn over time. It takes effort to cast light at any distance from ourselves, so it is used only when necessary. However, both skills are little known outside of Altopon, and should not be discussed outside of the city.»

  More of the ‘non-existent’ magic, she mused, but did not challenge him on the point. Feeling awkward and a bit intimidated by his form of communication, she sat there, staring at the beverage she refused to sample. When she eventually looked up at the Sarnoc she noticed he was watching her intently. Even though he had seemed friendly enough until now, she suddenly sensed that this tower served as an effective interrogation chamber, and was even now waiting for her to incriminate herself. Had she done something wrong? What was he waiting for her to do?

  Finally, she couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. “Where are we, exactly, and why did we come all the way up here?”

  He continued to watch her. After a delay that to her seemed overly long, he said aloud, “Given the nature of what we need to discuss, Pasadhi Sebachin suggested that we meet here.” With that comment, he again fell silent.

  After several minutes of silence, in frustration she pushed herself out of the chair and walked over to the closest window, where she could look out over the grounds of Altopon, including the spiral garden, which from above was impressive in both size and precision. To one side, she gazed over farmland houses. In the other direction, she could see the river snake away in the distance, only to be swallowed up by the thick forest. Far off along the horizon she thought she recognized the Carpasic Mountains that Davor had identified the day before, and wondered if she was staring in the direction of Loraden.

  “So this is all for real?” she asked aloud.

  “Why would it not be?” Sarnoc Vaj replied.

  “I’m still having a hard time believing it’s not just me dreaming it all.” She turned back to the table.

  “I assure you that this is no dream, Bhara,” he replied.

  “A
re you going to explain what’s going on, then?”

  He sat with his hands folded on the table. Very calmly, he replied, “what do you think is going on, Bhara?”

  “What? How am I supposed to know? I show up in this strange place and I have no idea what’s happening to me.”

  He didn’t respond, but instead seemed content to sit and watch her.

  “Oh come on. I don’t have a clue about what’s going on, and you’re just sitting there, not saying a thing.”

  He blinked. “What would you like me to say?”

  She turned her head from side to side, frustrated by the interaction. “I’m just wondering why we had to come all this way if you’re still not going to tell me anything.”

  “I never said I was unwilling to talk to you, Bhara Kate.”

  “So why are we here? I feel like I’m just a puppet that’s being handed off from one person to another, and no one thinks that the puppet herself has something to contribute. It’s all just a game where everyone is trying to control me.”

  “No one here is attempting to control you.”

  “Really? Then why am I here?” As she spoke, she meant the tower, or maybe Altopon more generally, but as the words left her mouth, she realized she was really asking why she was in this strange land where there were a thousand questions without answers.

  “That is a good place to start. What do you remember about traveling to Sarducia?”

  “Well, to be honest, not all that much,” she conceded as climbed back into the chair, and crossed her legs under her. “It was the middle of the night, and there was a thunderstorm. I went out into the rain and I think I was struck by lightning. And the next thing I remember, I woke up in the keep.”