The Hidden Isle

  Water magi, on the other hand, tend to be people of wisdom and empathy—merciful, thoughtful and supportive of others. Water magi are held in high esteem, as it is seen as the greatest of all branches. Inexplicably, or perhaps ironically, water magi tend to be women, although in a world of predominantly women, that is not saying much.

  — From Secrets of Mani, by Sor the Lark

  (San’Hal 9, 997—Sunset)

  Rhidea was right. As we drew nearer to the island, moving slowly but steadily downward, the floating landmass seemed to appear out of nowhere, fading from the mists. The Isle of Scathii. The sunset painted it the strangest shade of violet, the vibrant colors in the misty air mixing to create a new hue. As we approached to land, that hue resolved into a steadier grey, and then more specific colors. Dark slate-colored rocks cropped the edge of the island. Silvery grass grew farther toward the center. Coniferous trees grew along the southern edge of the island, needles a dark green that faded to silver.

  We docked in a small bay nearby a few other ships and some smaller craft I did not recognize. The Listening Gale coasted to a stop at the pier and the men began hopping ashore to tie down the boat and lower the gangplank.

  “Welcome!” bellowed Captain Charta, coming up to clap Kaen and me on the shoulder with one huge hand each. Then in a lower voice, he said, “It’s probably a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see the Hidden Isle of Scathii for you travelers. You got lucky with the tradesmasters.” He looked to Rhidea. “Now, about that gold. I don’t do this just out of the kindness of my heart, you know. There was something in it for me. Twelve copper pence and we’ll call it done.”

  The mage held up her coin pouch, left hand pausing as she inserted it into the bag. “Ten.”

  “All right, all right. We’ll go with eleven,” he conceded grudgingly. “Since you’ve been such good passengers.”

  She paid out the eleven small pieces of copper and then shook hands with the large man. “A pleasure, Captain Charta,” she said formally.

  He gave a hearty smile and an equally hearty salute. “Of course, my lady. Are you going to be needing a quick return trip as well? Should we stick around and wait a day or two?”

  Rhidea shook her head. “No, thank you. That won’t be necessary.”

  “Well, then. Farewell, travelers, and . . . make sure you mind your manners while you’re on this island. Wouldn’t want to upset the locals too much. After all, you’re a long way from the mainland now.”

  “We understand,” Rhidea replied smoothly.

  “Oh, and one more piece of advice,” said Charta. “Whatever your business is here, you’re going to end up going through the elders. If you try to skirt around their authority, they will find out and they will not be happy. They are very . . . old-fashioned and traditional, though, so don’t get your hopes up too high. They may just turn you away and boot you out.”

  “We’ll keep it in mind,” Mydia said from beside me. “Thank you very much, sir.”

  We parted ways with the trading crew and headed into the island. Scathii was small, perhaps a mile in diameter and home to one little, tight-knit village, also called by the same name. This village was situated straight ahead, left of the grove of evergreens by a sparkling pond. It was odd how the ash-like particles in the air played with the light, giving a similar distortion effect to faraway sights as that of the whole island when we were approaching it, except that from this angle it mostly made things look grey. Here, we were just beneath the reach of the setting sun.

  “So . . . I take it the locals aren’t very welcoming?” Mydia asked tentatively. “Wait! Where are we going to stay the night? What if they don’t give us a place to stay?”

  “It will be all right,” Rhidea said calmly.

  “Princess,” Kaen added in a low voice.

  Mydia gave him a weak punch to the ribs as she walked beside him. “That’s ’Queen’.”

  “Then act like it,” he said, and then went on to change his voice as though to imitate the queen. “Oh, thank you very much, sir.” He batted his eyelashes for effect. “Fifteen copper pieces for you, sir.”

  Mydia stopped for a moment, as though unsure how to react. Then she giggled and kept walking.

  This time I groaned. “Cut it out, children.”

  Both heads turned immediately forward. Rhidea, at the lead, just pretended to ignore the banter. She was used to it by now.

  The village was little more than a few houses lumped together with a quaint wooden fence and an open double gate. A couple of mottled sheep lay by the gate and lifted their heads to bleat when we came by.

  As we came closer and passed through the gate, I saw that a few people milled about in what was obviously the village square. We approached them to inquire about where to find the village elders, and were told that some of them could be found in the Arbiters’ Hall, a tall, peak-roofed building at the western end of town. On our way, we passed a couple of children playing in the yard. Cutest little kids, too . . .

  Rhidea strode right up the steps to the Arbiters’ Hall and knocked on the simple wooden door. An aged voice came from inside, “Who is it?” Soon, a greying middle-aged man poked his head out the door. “Oh. Oh.” He seemed to take in the fact that she was someone of importance, not to mention a stranger. “Who are you?”

  “I am the Wandering Mage, Rhidea,” she said. “My companions and I have come on behalf of King Fenwel of Nemental to seek a favor from the people of Scathii.”

  “Oh, dear,” the man breathed. “Come on in. And we will . . . talk.”

  “So . . . no, we won’t help you,” said Hermas, one of the five village elders. He was a bald man of at least eighty years, the oldest of all five elders.

  We sat on a blanketed floor around a fireplace, across from the four elders present tonight. The inside of the Hall was quite cozy, its plank walls draped with various furs and quilts. The elders had been courteous enough, particularly the man who had first greeted us—who had introduced himself as Ben—but were very reluctant to listen to us at all, let alone heed our request.

  Rhidea sighed and rubbed her temples. I could tell exactly what she was thinking: This will be a long evening.

  (San’Hal 10, 997—Dusk)

  We ended up staying the night at the Village Inn and Eatery. In the morning, we set about talking to whatever townspeople were willing to speak with us. At one point while Mydia was with Rhidea and our assassin friend, Kaen and I ran across a young boy of perhaps twelve or thirteen years, not quite at that age of a boy’s growth spurt into a man’s size. He had sandy blond hair and bright, keen eyes. He was also quite friendly, returning a bright, “Hullo!” when I greeted him. He ran up to us and asked, “Are you the strangers my uncle was talkin’ about?”

  “Probably,” I said with a sidelong glance to Kaen. “We’re quite strange, after all.”

  The boy laughed out loud like it was the funniest joke he’d heard in a while. “I think you’re pretty. I mean—pretty nice. You’re nice. Who’s the tall man?” He gestured to Kaen.

  I gave Kaen another look and mouthed the word man in a disbelieving way, eliciting only a raise of his eyebrows. To the boy, I said, “That’s my friend Kaen. And I’m Lyn. We’re from Nytaea. What’s your name, boy?”

  He sniffed, crossing his arms and turning half away. “I’m almost a man.” Then he grinned and said, “Name’s Oliver.” He stuck out his twiggy hand, and I shook it gingerly. “Nice to meet ya, Lyn. You have big hands.”

  I felt my face heat up a bit despite myself. “Excuse me?”

  “Well, you do! You have big shoulders, too. You’re just kind of . . . big looking. Bigger than you actually are.” Now it was Oliver’s turn to blush. “Sorry, that probably sounds kinda rude . . . I’m not very good with words, mate. Er . . . madam.”

  Kaen and I just laughed. I reached out and ruffled the boy’s blond hair. “I like you, Oliver. Where do you live?”

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  “Oh!” He turned and pointed across the village, bouncing slightly on his feet as he did so. “See that house with the windmill waaaaaay over there?”

  We nodded, following the point of his finger.

  “Well, it’s not that one. It’s that little one beyond it; past the fence. That’s my uncle Ben’s place. I stay with him. My parents work on Isle Noduin during the Off Season.”

  “Both of them?” Kaen asked. “I’m surprised they’d leave you alone, Oliver.”

  “Nah, they, uh, they’re fine with it. But I’m not alone. I like my Uncle Ben! Even if he is a stuffy fuddy-duddy most of the time.” Oliver made a pouting face. “He doesn’t let me go gliding very often. And I love gliding.”

  I perked up at that. “Gliding?”

  “Yeah! And he’s got his own whole wood shop, so I get to use it to make whatever I want. Like my inventions. I make gliders—wanna see?”

  “Sure,” I said hesitantly, trying to mask my excitement. “Your uncle won’t mind?”

  “Well . . . he can’t really say anything about inviting strangers over right now, because he’s out of town, too. Heheh. He left this morning, and won’t be back till tomorrow.”

  Kaen shrugged and said, “We’re interested in anything to do with flying, so . . .”

  Oliver took us over to the little house he had pointed out, which was small but had an attached workshop of almost the same size. Boards were stacked beside it. The blond-haired boy went to this building and unlatched the double door, pulling it open to reveal an assortment of wooden tables, saw-horses and frames placed here and there. Wooden planks leaned up against the far wall. And on one of the tables sat a contraption made from wood and leather, roughly eight feet in length, with triangular wings, one folded up and the other only half-together.

  “Here she is,” said the boy, walking over to his project. “I call ‘er the Gyrfalcon. My latest glider model.”

  “Would you look at that,” Kaen breathed, hovering behind the boy. “This is impressive. The wings fold out and snap into place in order to catch the air and let you hover for a little while?”

  “Right. In normal places, you could glide for hundreds of feet on one of these. See, I have older models over here.” He gestured to one wall, which had multiple designs with wings folded up and bound, leaning against the corner. “This one should hopefully be sturdier. That’s what my uncle is always worried about. He doesn’t mind me making them, ‘cause it keeps me busy, but he gets nervous every time I talk about actually testing them out. Anyway, here in the Sky Islands, I know some tricks.” He grinned, pointing upward. “Updrafts.”

  I frowned. “You mean air currents that blow upward?”

  “Yep! The air around here is warm. Some spots are warmer than others. Kind of random where the warm spots will come up from the Sea, but if you can predict them right, you can tell where they’ll be and make out ones that are already blowing. An updraft or two’ll let you gain quite a bit of altitude, although the sweet spot is usually in the same height where we are now, below the rest of the Sky Islands. The air gets cooler up there and it’s harder to fly.”

  “So you’re saying you can actually fly with one of these,” Kaen said. “For an extended period of time.”

  The boy rubbed his chin. “Pretty much. But it’s tricky.”

  “So, Oliver,” I said, “Would you care to come and have lunch with us? We have two other companions, scholars who are interested in flying and would love to meet you. And since your uncle’s still away . . .”

  “Well, ’course I know what my Uncle Ben would say,” he huffed. “But he doesn’t rightly have to know.”

  “Are there others around here who study this sort of thing?” I asked him. “Anyone more knowledgeable on the flying machines around here?”

  “Eh . . . I don’t really think so, mate. Unless you’re talking about the great big sailing ships. I’m kind of my own experimental . . . inventor.” Oliver grinned.

  “Well, you’re awfully full of yourself,” Kaen said. “Come on, kid. Where’s a good place to eat around here?” And then to me, “Where did our friends run off to this time?”

  I shrugged, and we set off to find them.

  “You make flying inventions?” Mydia asked incredulously. “Wow. You’re, what, ten?”

  “Thirteen. Almost.” Oliver sat next to Kaen, across from Rhidea, Mydia and me, kicking his feet like, well . . . a child. We were in the Village Eatery, waiting for our food to cook. Rhidea was making a splurge on the boy, getting him the most delicious-looking thing on the menu. Of course, he didn’t know she was loaded with royal coin.

  As I watched, Oliver ducked his blond head and whispered to Kaen in a voice that we could all hear, pointing semi-discreetly at Mydia: “She’s really pretty!”

  Kymhar, who sat on Oliver’s other side, glanced down impassively at the boy, and Mydia herself blushed almost imperceptibly, ducking to cover an amused grin.

  Rhidea cleared her throat. “Oliver, as I’m sure Lyn and Kaen here have told you, we are searching for a way to traverse the Sea of Emptiness.”

  “She said you’re interested in flying, madam,” he said politely. “Didn’t say nothing about sailing around on the Sea.”

  “Not just sailing around,” she said, and then gave us a small shrug that seemed to say, ‘might as well be direct’. “We want to cross the Sea of Emptiness.”

  Oliver ran the words over silently, as though trying to process what she meant. “You mean like . . . the other side of the world? There’s . . . there’s more land out there? Everyone says the Sea is endless.” He seemed excited by the possibility.

  Rhidea shook her head. “We believe there to be another continent on the other side. That this Sea is no more than a very large chasm. No one has charted the Sea to an edge—this does not mean that there isn’t one.”

  The boy nodded, am attentive look on his face that spoke of intelligence beyond his years, and then rubbed his lower lip with a thumb. “So . . . you’re travelers, come from the mainland to find something out here. Out there. You lot think there’s more land across the sea, and there’s something you want on that land, eh? I reckon you’re somebody important, then, madam?”

  “Call me Lady Rhidea. But yes, you’re pretty close, child.”

  “Rhidea. Miss Rhidea, where are you from?” he gestured to the rest of us. “Nemental?”

  “She is,” Mydia said. “Most of us come from Nytaea, but we left from Randhorn.”

  His eyes lit up. “Randhorn? Did you see the king?”

  Rhidea glanced at Mydia briefly. “I am retainer to King Fenwel. And this is Mydia, Queen of Nytaea.”

  The boy’s jaw dropped. “Blimey! I knew ya were important people! Wait, Nytaea has a Queen now? Huh. So . . . heheh, you must be on a pretty top-secret mission, then, is that right? And you’re really just gonna trust a wee boy with your secret?”

  “Well, if you can help us in any way, lad, then it’s worth it.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Flying. . . . Well, I make gliders. See, the air around here, blowing up from the deeps, it’s warm, right?” Oliver began to explain some of the science of the chasm, as well as how he designed his little fliers.

  Rhidea brought out a scroll with experimental blueprints scrawled on different sections of it. “Here are some plans.” She began pointing out different ideas to the boy, who perked up immediately and listened with rapt attention. From what I’d seen so far, Oliver was likely smarter than me, despite his scrawny, youthful appearance and childish mannerisms.

  Oliver’s mouth formed a silent ‘Oh’ as he studied the scroll. He asked questions and Rhidea and Mydia replied (they were most of the brains behind all of this stuff).

  Before long, we agreed to ask Oliver’s uncle the next day about helping us out with our project.

  We stayed overnight at the same inn and then came back to find Oliver and his uncle at the house. Oliver had obviously told him about us and our far-fetched plans, because the man stood at the door with beefy arms crossed, a disapproving look on his face. “So it’s the crazy travelers,” he said with a grunt.

  He was also one of the elders that we had met the other night. Ben, one of the quieter ones. Somehow I hadn’t put together that he must be the same Ben we had talked to.

  We were a bit uncertain what to say to his welcome, but Kaen broke the silence. “Sir, your nephew was very kind to us, and . . . we really need to make this work somehow.”

  “If there’s somewhere better to go to . . .” Mydia began, but the middle-aged man cut her off.

  “Nah, nah. Come on in, travelers. You’re all daft, but it doesn’t mean I won’t help you out. Seems I underestimated your tenacity the other night. The name’s Ben, by the way. You can call me Uncle Ben if you like, because it seems I’m everyone’s uncle around here anyway.”

  He showed us around the house, which was more spacious and well-decorated than I’d expected, and treated us to some piping-hot tea from the cook stove. Then he sat down to talk with us. We told him pretty much the same stuff as we had Oliver, and he took it with mostly grunts and down-turned lips of consideration.

  “Well, you’re definitely right crazy,” he said at length. “Not taking that one back. But if what you say about the magic of Mani is true . . . then this fool’s errand may be pretty important after all. And here I thought old King Fenwel was just on about nothing lately . . .”

  “You heard something about his research?” Rhidea asked with some surprise.

  “Well, sure. Word travels fast in the Sky Islands where the right folks are concerned. Since I’m on the Scathii Council, I hear a thing or two now and then. They’ve always said Fenwel’s the type to take interest in things that most others don’t, and of course let’s not forget your own reputation, my lady—” he dipped his head in a brief show of respect to Rhidea “—but lately they say he’s been pulling some long strings. Helping Nytaea secede, and something more . . . covert. I’m guessing that’s what this would be.” He spread his hands around the room at our mismatched group of five.

  “You’re not wrong,” Rhidea said. “The covertness was mostly because we knew that we had to go behind the Archlord’s back for the large part, although now that’s not so big a deal. He is our . . . temporary ally, shall we say? Tentative ally, let’s go with that.” She glanced briefly at Kymhar. “Domon is helping us in our journey, as our goals happen to align.”

  “So what do you want of me, then?” Ben asked.

  “We want to build a sky ship,” Rhidea said. “We have plans, and you and Oliver have the keys to making them work. We will pay for your services and any required materials, and then we will depart over the chasm to find the hidden continent.”

  Ben rubbed his chin. “Chasm . . . Well, then. Hmph. I guess so. But remember, boy, you are not to get any big ideas about all this adventuring stuff. I can’t have you gallivanting with a rag-tag group of strangers.”

  “R-right, sir.” Oliver swallowed and tried to look innocent, as though he had not even entertained such thoughts.

  What a little troublemaker, I thought. Though there was something else in his reaction to his uncle’s words, something I couldn’t place.

  “So,” said Kymhar in his gravelly voice from across the room, causing everyone to turn and look at him as though suddenly realizing he was there, “this means we have work to do.”