by Jackie Dana
“Is that everything?”
She nodded. “I don’t really know what happened.”
Sarnoc Vaj sipped at his beverage. “You have left out a few details, I suspect. Do you not trust me to keep your secrets?”
Secrets? “You mean, the fact that my ring was glowing?”
“Do you not think that detail to be important?”
Was he scolding her? “Well, maybe. It was weird.”
“And what else?”
She stared at the table, and ran a fingertip along the base of her glass, but dared not taste it until she had a better sense for what was going on. She didn’t want to tell him about the voice she had heard. “I remember waking up, and someone had wrapped me in a blanket, but I was still outside. I don’t know where I was, but the people were speaking a foreign language.”
“Do you know who they were?”
She shook her head. “No, I never saw any of them. I just remember feeling very cold.”
“And what else do you remember? Why did you go into the rain?”
“I don’t know. I think I threw the ring outside.”
“You said it was the middle of the night. Why were you awake at that time?”
“I don’t know... I guess I just woke up. It was the storm, maybe.”
“You can tell him, Kate.” Sebachin said from the doorway.
“What do you mean?” she asked him, unnerved by his sudden presence. How long had he been standing there?
He was leaning against the doorframe. “I experienced the same things, once. It gets easier if you just admit it.” He winked at her as he stepped into the room and took a seat.
She then stared at the two men, who could not be more different in appearance or demeanor. They in turn remained silent, as if waiting for her to do something. “This again? Don’t you get it? I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” She alternated her gaze between the two men. “Do you expect me to say something in particular, or are we all just going to stare at each other all day?” Apparently that was exactly their plan, for neither replied. Sarnoc Vaj had a bland expression, a blue ribbon poker face, but Sebachin had a bit of a mischievous look in his eyes which reassured her just a bit. “Damn it!” she finally exclaimed, bringing her fist down on the table so hard it nearly toppled the delicate glasses. “Why won’t you tell me anything?” She pushed herself out of the chair and walked back to the window.
Then she spun around. “From what I’ve learned about this place in the past couple of days, it sounds like the two of you are about the best people around to give me some answers.” She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms in front of her. Although she wasn’t about to admit it to these men, being here in the tower terrified her. It felt more like a prison than a place for casual conversation, so remote that no one would ever hear her if she called out for help. She also couldn’t shake the fact that the door had no handle or hinges. Was it their intention to extract some sort of information from her—information she was certain she couldn’t provide—and then lock her up here? If so, she might not be able to stop them, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. “I don’t know what you’re expecting from me, but if you want my cooperation from here on out, you need to start explaining what’s going on. Frankly, I’m getting pretty tired of being shuffled around and never having a clue about what’s happening. I didn’t ask to come here, and I’m not going to play any more games until I get some straight answers.” There, she said it.
In response, the Sarnoc’s eyes seemed to widen a bit. He brought his hands up from his lap, clasped them together and then covered his mouth, as if trying to prevent himself from replying to her.
Sebachin, however, burst into laughter. “Kate, come back over and sit with us,” he said as he threw his head back and laughed more. “Sarnoc Vaj is sharing some of his private stock of arbishi with us, and it would be a shame if I drank it all before you got to try any.” He lifted one of the glasses of the pink beverages and held it out to her. “Come on, have some. I think you’ll like it.”
It was impossible to be furious around this man. She sighed and stepped forward to accept the glass. “Hmm,” she murmured after she had taken a sip. “That’s really good.”
Sarnoc Vaj nodded his head in appreciation. “It is a rare beverage, made by Mosumi in very small batches, and only when the arba flowers bloom. I hoped you would like it.” He waved his arm towards the chair she had recently vacated, the full sleeve of his tunic making the gesture appear quite graceful.
“Mosumi?” she repeated, as she sat down. She had heard the word before, but wasn’t sure what it meant.
“Aye,” the Sarnoc replied. “They are the ancient people of Sarducia, who lived here before the Sards conquered them centuries ago. Most of the Mosumi intermarried with Sards over the years and no longer identify themselves as such. Some escaped and now live in Froida, many days’ journey over the ocean. In a few remote areas of Sarducia, you can still find communities that hold to the old traditions, but they are rare.”
“The Mosumi are our heritage,” Sebachin added. “Only those with Mosumi blood can become riversmiths, healers, or Sarnoc.”
“So you’re both Mosumi, then?” They nodded. “And the people who live in Loraden?”
“The Vosira and most of the Bhagali are Sards,” the Sarnoc explained. “As are most of the people on the island. In truth, there are very few people in Sarducia with sufficient Mosumi heritage to become Sarnoc—or Pasadhi,” he added in deference to his colleague.
“Wait a second, this doesn’t make sense. Aldrish Rynar told me that the Dosedra was fighting the Mosumi. If you need to be Mosumi for all these things, isn’t it a problem if someone is trying to kill them?”
“Aye, it is indeed,” Vaj agreed. “No one will deny that we have a complicated history. The Mosumi of Froida share our ancestors, but they fled at the time of the conquest. Now they live a semi-nomadic life.” Then Sarnoc Vaj changed the subject. “Bhara Kate, you are quite outspoken and confident for someone who has just recently traveled between worlds.”
“Yeah, well. That’s just how I am.”
“Aye, and it was not intended as a criticism.” He laid his hands flat on the table in front of him. “I am immensely relieved to learn that you are well-suited to face the challenges ahead. Someone more timid would find it difficult.”
“I told you,” Sebachin replied. “She will do well.”
Kate, however, was shaking her head. “What do you mean?” She narrowed her eyes. “What challenges?”
Sarnoc Vaj shook his head. “I wish I could answer that, but in truth, I know no more than you do. What I do know,” he continued quickly, holding up a hand to prevent her protest, “is that you are here to accomplish something important, at a time when Sarducia itself is facing her own challenges, and possibly even a war with Hansar.”
“No, you’re mistaken. I didn’t even know this place existed a couple of days ago. What makes you think I can do anything?”
“Kate, you’re here,” Sebachin offered. “It seems Goddess Kerthal chose you for a reason.”
“I don’t know about that. I don’t know anything about this place, and it’s not like I have any sort of special skills. I just work at a marketing firm. I think you may be expecting more of me than I can manage.”
“Nay, I don’t believe that for a moment. At any rate, it’s not a question of what you’ve done in the past, but what you’re capable of doing.” Sebachin stretched his hand across the table to her, palm upwards, as if seeking hers in return.
She eyed the gesture suspiciously at first, but then slowly stretched out her hand to grasp his. As she did so, he held up her hand, as if showing off her ring.
Vaj nodded.
Confused, she turned her gaze to the ring, which seemed to have just the slightest glow, as if there was a cold fire inside the metal. Then she realized that the Sarnoc was holding up his right hand, where the same thing was happening to his own ring, a wide silver band s
et with a clear cabochon crystal similar to hers.
“So you recognize the similarity, then?” Vaj asked. “Both are made from glysar.”
She released his hand examined her own ring more closely. It was the same glow it had emitted the other night. “I don’t understand. Isn’t it just silver?”
“Not at all. Glysar is entirely different. It is a precious metal found only in Sarducia, with special properties not found in any other substance. It was once quite plentiful here, and is widely used on our island—and coveted by those beyond our shores.”
“No, you’re wrong. My ring’s just silver.” She stared at it. “It has to be.”
Her statement caused the Sarnoc’s lip to twitch, as if he was holding back a smile. “You know that’s not true. Silver doesn’t shine as that does, nor does it possess the same energy within it.”
As he said the final word, she inhaled sharply. His words had sparked a memory. When she was about eight, she and her mother had gone on a picnic. When her mother had dozed off on the blanket, Kate had reached out to touch the ring, but it shocked her. At the time she thought it was just static electricity, but now she wondered if it was something else.
Seeing her expression, Sarnoc Vaj added, “so you know I speak the truth.”
“No, that’s impossible...” It was her mother’s ring, something she had worn every single day since Kate could remember. How could it be something from this land?
“You used the ring to travel here, did you not?” Sebachin asked gently, as if trying not to spook her further. “It worked because it’s glysar. That’s one of the many things glysar can do. The kelash pole I used on the river had a glysar tip, and every torrapon stone has glysar embedded within it.”
She was still staring at the ring on her hand, which suddenly had taken on an entirely new, and rather mysterious, aspect. “So I could use it to go home again if I wanted?”
Sebachin nodded. “You must be in a torrapon, but aye, you could use it in that way. With some concentration you should be able to locate the energy lines to take you home.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Having said that, I should warn you to be careful, for the travel will drain you, and you might find it difficult to return. You should not travel until you are certain that you’re ready.”
“Well, to be honest, I never asked to come here, and I was yanked right out of important things at work—”
“Truly, Kate? You really want to leave?” Sebachin sounded genuinely disappointed.
“Bhara, I hope you will reconsider.” Sarnoc Vaj’s demeanor had softened, but he remained serious. “For you to travel here so abruptly, and without prior planning or intent, there must have been a reason.”
The voice in her head, the call... “It’s not like I had a choice in the matter.”
Vaj walked to the door. “You represent something very interesting, Bhara, though what that may be is not up to me to explain to you. That is something for you to work out on your own.”
“But...”
“Keep following the path in front of you. If you pay attention, you will always have signs that show you which way to go.”
And with that, and a simple nod to Sebachin, he left the chamber, pushing the door closed behind him.
“Wait—what do you mean?”
“You won’t get anything else out of him on the subject,” Sebachin explained, and poured her more of the pink beverage. “The Sarnoc tend not to answer your questions so much as they leave you with more.”
“It sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience.”
He grinned and took a sip of arbishi. “Perhaps.”
“So what do you think’s happening to me, then? You promised I’d get answers here. Or will you walk out as well?”
He chuckled at the comment. “Ah, if I wanted to end our chat, I’d have to ask you to leave first. You see, these are my quarters.”
“What?” She glanced around. “Really? All the way up here? That seems... inconvenient.”
“Not at all. It gives me the solitude I need for study, prayer, and reflection—and it keeps me from being under the watchful eyes of Sarnoc all day.” He nudged her glass closer. “Drink up. You’ll have few opportunities to ever sample arbishi, and you don’t want this to go to waste. For all I know Sarnoc Vaj means to return to fetch his bottle.”
She took another sip. It was so light, slightly sweet, and heavily fragrant. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything like this before.” Then a thought occurred to her. “What does it do?”
“The arbishi?” Seeing her nod, he shrugged in return. “Arba flower tea is known to help focus the mind, so I suppose arbishi would have a similar effect. Nothing other than that, as far as I know. Certainly nothing harmful, I assure you.” He cocked his head to one side. “Kate, did you think we would try to drug you?”
The shocked tone in his voice made her feel a little self-conscious, and she stared at the table.
“Listen to me,” he said, reaching for her hands. “On my word, you never need to fear the Sarnoc, or truly, anyone within these walls. Elsewhere in Sarducia, I cannot make the same promise, but you’re safe here.”
Chapter 13
The Sarnoc gardens had given way to a wide expanse of unmanaged wildflowers and grasses, the meadow untouched by humans other than a small footpath that wound through the field. As the sun glinted off tall stands of goldenrod and fluffy Queen Anne’s lace, and a variety of purple flowers she didn’t recognize, she couldn’t help but smile. This was something she understood, a world not so different from her own, and for the first time since she had arrived she felt like herself, unhindered by the expectations or demands of others. Standing quietly in place, she spotted a hare dashing through the thick growth, and a pair of eagles circled overhead, swirling with the updrafts. Ahead, the trees were lush and inviting, and not as imposing or sinister as Lockleaf had seemed from the river.
Sebachin had shown her to her room, a bright space with french doors that opened into a garden. Inside the wardrobe was a new gown, made of lightweight wool like her current dress, green with floral stitching down the arms, around the square neckline, and all along the full skirt. There were also clean undergarments and leather shoes that tied around the ankle. She stared at the clothing in amazement, suspecting it would fit her well, and having no idea how such a thing was possible since she had only arrived a few hours before.
Free of the Sarnoc for the time being, and having no obligations on her time, she quickly washed up and changed, and slipped out through the tall glass-paned doorway into the garden. She wanted to put space between her and all those she had met, even if just for a short time. While no one had harmed her or done anything to make her feel unsafe, still she found it difficult to trust anyone here. There were still far too many questions left unanswered, too many agendas unidentified. Why was she here? Why was everyone so interested in her? And what was she supposed to do next? It was still bewildering that she was here at all. Had her absence from work been noted yet? Had any of her aunts gone to the house to check on her, and reported her missing? They had to be worried sick that she had disappeared, particularly so soon after mom’s funeral, and must be thinking the worst. Never in a million years would she have wanted to put them through this pain, but unless she could figure out where she was, how she had gotten here, and how to return, there was nothing she could do to spare her family.
She stared at her ring, and then removed it. Again, nothing happened. Even though Sebachin said she could use it to return home, she had no idea how to make it work.
The path she followed led her to a patch of trees, and soon she lost sight of the towers, alone in woods that might well have been in her own world. For a few minutes, she had no one staring at her, asking questions, or directing her about like a lost child.
After about a mile, she decided she had gone far enough. Just as she was about to turn back, out of the corner of her eye she spotted a small building nestled within the trees. It was a round h
ut, made of weathered stone that recalled the massive torrapon stones Sebachin had pointed out earlier, with a thatched roof and a zig-zagging row of small windows made from rounds of different colored glass.
There was a single door, and it stood open.
Curious, she crept up to the opening and peered inside.
Rather than a house, it appeared to be a workshop. Inside, there was a large crescent-shaped table and shelves under the windows bearing dozens of jars, boxes and books. At the rear of the room stood a kiva-style fireplace with a hungry fire licking the base of a cauldron. Along the table there were all kinds of bottles and bowls of different colors, knives and wooden utensils, and small bundles of plants.
Most notable, though, were the three women who were busily at work within the room.
One, a young woman with long dark hair that hung in a tangle of curls down her back, had a stoneware pitcher full of honey, and was pouring it into small jars stuffed full of herbs.
A second woman, remarkably slender and tall, who wore her pale hair coiled loosely at the nape of her neck, was adding ingredients from a mortar to the cauldron, and then returning to crush more with a heavy stone pestle.
The third woman, a pixie of a girl with large eyes and closely-cropped hair, alternated her attention between a large leather-bound book and the contents of a deep bowl.
In a stark contrast from the women she had seen in Loraden, all three were barefoot. They wore brightly-patterned blouses and full skirts made from batiked fabrics, rather than wool or brocade, and the garments sparkled from silvery beads and threads woven into the design. They wore glysar bangles and bells around their ankles. And their faces were tattooed with blue spirals that started on their necks and curled along their hairlines like vines of indigo.
One of them, the tallest of the three, was softly humming to herself. As Kate watched, the woman’s humming took on words, and she began to sing. The melody was light, though the words meant nothing to Kate, but it was a lovely tune that reminded her of music she had heard from an Irish band that sometimes played in town.