A Secret Atlas by Stackpole Michael A

Author:Stackpole, Michael A [Stackpole, Michael A]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-one

36th day, Month of the Dog, Year of the Dog

9th Year of Imperial Prince Cyron’s Court

162nd Year of the Komyr Dynasty

736th year since the Cataclysm

Stormwolf, Archurko

Ethgi

Jorim Anturasi watched as sailors in one of the Stormwolf’s boats pulled hard for the ship.

As seen from the ship, the landing party and villagers met peacefully. However, the

urgency with which the sailors returned suggested something unusual. The same breeze

coming in from the ocean had prevented him from hearing anything said on the island,

and would likewise have stolen the sailors’ words, so they just rowed strongly.

The day after he’d been shown the copied chart at Nysant, he had been taken out to the

site where the original drawing had appeared. His guide knew the way through the verdant

rain forest intimately, and Jorim had a sneaking suspicion the fellow made his living

searching out and looting old Viruk ruins. Several hundred years back there had been a

strong market for such things in Erumvirine, but tastes had shifted away more recently.

Still, the odd pieces often had magical powers attributed to them, despite all evidence to

the contrary.

The last leg of the trek involved slithering through ruins until he came to a chamber that

had survived the eons relatively intact. His guide, a slender, swarthy fellow with a nose

which was much too large for his face, held a torch as Jorim studied the wall map. The

chart he’d seen had just been an outline of the drawing, and not rendered terribly

accurately, whereas the original had been painted as a mural in rich blues. Mildew had

eaten away at the edges, but something in the white paint used to depict the Mountains of

Ice resisted it. The chain of islands, likewise rendered in white, stood out against the blue

of the ocean.

Jorim studied it carefully, then made a detailed drawing. He affected mild disinterest to

counter his guide’s growing enthusiasm. Retaining his composure was not easy, however,

as things that had been poorly rendered on the chart still retained their clarity on the wall,

and he had worked hard to re-create them accurately on his drawing. What the other chart

maker had taken as lines to indicate mountains or squiggles that were rivers were in fact

Soth symbols for Viruk words, and Jorim knew them well.

The island of Ethgi, off which they were anchored, had been the largest in the chain on the

original chart and the only one to have indications of a settlement. On that chart it

appeared to have mountains that ringed a bay. The mural showed something different—a

flat atoll with a circular reef. The Soth symbol that had been taken for hastily drawn

mountains really represented the old Viruk word eshjii. For the Viruk it meant the island was home to demons and a place to be avoided at all costs.

Sailing down to it had been relatively uneventful, save that breezes came only lightly.

Captain Gryst exercised her crew endlessly, drilling them on raising and lowering sails,

clearing the decks for battle, and conducting a host of minor repairs. She forbade Jorim

from even using the word “demon” and from trying to explain

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