The Sea Beggars 02 - This Forsaken Earth by Paul Kearney

Author:Paul Kearney [Kearney, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, General
ISBN: 9780553383638
Google: _nNdHmXDYtMC
Amazon: 0553383639
Publisher: Spectra
Published: 2006-11-28T05:00:00+00:00

limits of his vision were circumscribed even as Rowen’s were.

“So this is the font of secrets,” Rowen said. She sounded disappointed. “It’s like an old man’s attic.”

They had lit half a dozen lamps and candles and the galleried room was bright along its length. They had

shared a half decanter of decent port, taking it in turns to drink from the single crystal glass that Psellos

had kept down here. As she drained the last of it Rowen smashed the glass on the floor and ground the

fragments under her heel. Then she had insisted upon pouring olive oil over Rol’s burnt arm and

wrapping it in linen torn from her own shirt. Thus refreshed, the pair had begun rooting through the

contents of the room.

“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be looking for,” Rol complained. “Gods! What a pig he was

when he had no maids to clean up after him.”

“Old Waric,” Rowen told him. “I can’t read it, but I’ll know it when I see it. Look for characters that

resemble runes, but read north-south instead of west-east. You could mistake them for an engraving, or a

geometric design.”

“Psellos knew the language of the Elder Race?” Rol asked.

“Some—he said so, at any rate. He was from the Goliad, don’t forget, and it is said that there are rocks

in the wastes there that still bear traces of it. In here it will be on vellum, or slate. If they wrote on paper,

it all perished long ago.”

“Why look for inscriptions in a language we have no hope of understanding?”

“Someone somewhere will understand, and if we found even ten lines of original Waric, it would be

priceless. I doubt there’s enough of it left in the world to make a shopping list.”

Piles of books fell over as they moved through them. A few were in Gascarese: A Gramarye of Ancient

Symbols, The Alchemy of Blood, and even Sailing Directions for the North Wrywind Sea. But most were

in languages Rol did not know. He wearied of the task long before Rowen and began hoking through

cupboards, sniffing the contents of jars. He tapped the side of one and the sudden flicker of movement

within made him cry out.

“Rowen!”

Set on a lamplit table, the liquid within was a bright carmine, like arterial blood. But it was not opaque,

and something swirled within, occasionally tapping on the glass. Rowen lifted the lid gingerly, and, too

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