by Katie Macey
For a moment, time slowed, and the corners of her vision faded to black. There was only Niamh and the boy with the white hair. He looked surprised and to be honest, Niamh wondered if she had scared him. Her drastic action had shocked herself. Sneaking was natural, but confrontation? She didn’t know she could be bold like this. Niamh prepared to accuse him with stealing her bracelet. But she paused.
She’d been wrong to have mentally labelled him a ‘boy.’ His eyes were exactly level with her own. His face, though as mature as her own, was more angular. Blotchy skinned, his eyes were blushed pink, and before he had time to lift a hand to his face, a disobedient tear trickled down his face. Niamh realised he had been rushing away before anyone saw him. What had happened to make a boy her own age cry?
A shout from another market trader punctured the vacuum around their meeting. The bustling crowd came back into focus, and both of them were bumped into and knocked about by passers-by. Her hood slipped off.
Niamh noticed that her pink hair drew attention immediately. Faces turned towards her, eyes darting as covered mouths whispered to each other. Flicking her hood back over her hair, she covered one side of her face and abandoned the boy, ducking out of sight.
When she peered out into the street from behind the open door of a poorly maintained dwelling, she couldn't see him anywhere. Pursing her lips she discreetly re-joined the market and walked back to where Veayre and Herup continued to work.
"So why doesn't anyone sled or skate across the ice?"
Veayre was asking Herup questions as she scooped fine grains from a scale into a small sack. "You said it's solid..."
"I know what you're thinking,” said Herup. “But it's not like nobody here never thought of that."
He took the opportunity to sit down and rest his feet. Niamh lingered close by, curious. Veayre had a way with people that Niamh was just getting to know. Where Niamh blustered about or cried, Veayre simply coaxed it out of them.
"Look, I'm not saying it's impossible,” said Herup, “just that no-one has ever made it past the point."
Niamh accidentally scratched her wrist on a rough edge. Rubbing it to ease the sting she listened as Herup continued.
"Every so often one upstart will give it a crack, but it never ends well."
"What happens to them?" Veayre asked.
"If you went down to the bay, if you witnessed the violent freeze with your own eyes, you would understand. It's not no frozen river, smooth and glossy. This is a shifting, grinding, berg-scape. Sliding mountains knocking together and grazing shards of ice."
The curiosity of her own questions drove Niamh closer. Giving herself away as an eavesdropper she asked, "But then, how does anyone get in or out?"
Herup eyed her wearily.
"They just don't, child."
Niamh was starting to see that her persistence wasn't regarded as a positive trait in Muspary. But it couldn't be helped.
"What if we had a map?” said Niamh. “Is there one we could look at? Perhaps there's a way you've not thought of."
Niamh ignored Veayre's criticizing frown, but it couldn't be helped. They had lost so much time already.
Herup slumped, and let out a slow sigh. "You're stuck here until the seasons turn again. I let you have the loft, and you should be grateful. It's more than others would have done."
He looked tired. But Niamh wasn't done yet.
"But there is a map somewhere?"
She pressed her two hands to the bench in front of the seated Herup. Her hair tumbled down her right shoulder as she implored him. Then suddenly hopeful, she added, "Is there one somewhere here?" she peeked under crates and between piles of papers.
Herup sighed again, glancing at Veayre who only shrugged.
"The only man in Muspary who has a map is Lord Egleril himself,” said Herup.
"Lord Egleril," Niamh repeated the name out loud. She shuddered at the memory of the opulent leader of Muspary. Niamh looked around at the work yet to be done and wondered if she could run out for just a little while.
"You can't go,” said Herup.
Niamh straightened ready to argue but Herup lifted his two palms at her as he continued saying, "I'm no slave master, but the maps will be locked away with everything else the library holds. Rumour has it that Egleril," he spat on the floor after checking nobody was watching, "locked it the second he found out about those children’s lie... Afraid of knowledge that man is. And the old ways."
The girls frowned. Both had reason enough to want to see the map. Both needed to move on before the season waned and turned. Niamh met Veayre's determine gaze, then asked Herup,
"How do we find this Lord Egleril?"
"You met him yesterday I believe."
"Yes. We did. But what do you know of the Lord's son?" said Niamh.
"That line of thinking won't do you no good, young Niamh. He's as weak as they come."
"How do you mean?" said Niamh. She felt sorry for the guy. He’d been crying.
"He’s of age, but he won't stand up for himself. Mopes around behind his father all day..." said Herup moving away, still muttering under his breath.
Niamh settled back into work beside Veayre and steadily accomplished everything Herup had set out for them to do.
✽✽✽
On the eastern side of Muspary’s village, all the buildings seemed grander and larger, so Niamh’s idea of seeking out the largest building wasn't working. The winding alleyways and narrow cobbled roads wound like a tangled cord.
Hurrying her way back down a road she was sure she'd already walked down, she finally found it. A sign hung over the doorway: ‘Library.’ She needed to check if it was barred for herself. She reached out a hand towards the polished wooden handle…
A sharp rap across her knuckles shot pain up her arm. Niamh spun to see who had attacked her. She froze when she saw who it was.
Him again.
"Careful,” said Lord Egleril. “That's a capital offense. But you are new here. Explain it to her, Jomen."
If all leaders were like this, then she understood why Aunty avoided them so much. Niamh sniffed. Any leader who remained so well dressed while his people starved wouldn't be receiving any obligatory respect from her.
"I need to enter your library,” she said. “I'm looking for a map."
"Oh, a spy is she?" he said. She knew he mocked her. He aimed his comment at his son, but he only shook his head, embarrassed. Niamh decided she did feel sorry for him. He looked completely miserable. But she frowned, confused at the Lord’s derisive comment.
"I need to find a way to continue on my journey. I am not a mere traveller. I am on a mission-"
"See, she is a spy," the Lord said laughing, a horrible squelching laugh. "It's been locked indefinitely. It's barred from use. Nobody needs anything stored in there anyway. A big waste of space. I might just burn it down."
He laughed maniacally at this. The embarrassed son's eyes widened in horror and he exclaimed, "Father!"
"Oh my boy, you always worry too much.”
Repulsed, Niamh focused on a solution. But she was quickly learning that it would not come with the involvement of this Lord. She brushed past him, keen to get away.
"Now, now, young newcomer, you have forgotten. Or has no one taught you?"
Ignoring Lord Egleril, Niamh stalked away before she heard anymore. She knew what she needed to do. She would get her hands on a map without his assistance. She held no allegiance here.
✽✽✽
Sitting on the beach, with her knees to her chest, Niamh let her hair blow around her uncloaked head as she mentally ran through her options. Staring at the ocean, she couldn't escape the fact that there would be no sailing out of this place.
Why were there no roads over land she could use? And even if there was no road, why couldn't she just travel across the countryside until she found a road that suited? This place was unfamiliar to her and so it made sense that she didn't know anything about it. But no one would speak about i
t. Nobody seemed to be able to explain to her why they were so trapped. She had wandered the boundary, bearing with the icy cold. But there truly were no roads leading out of this place. Even the bandit's road had looped back to another cluster of Muspary homes.
She milled the options around in her mind but she knew she was working with too many probabilities. First and foremost, she needed a map. Her choices were limited. And she couldn’t stay.
CHAPTER 5
Niamh picked her way through the winding roads until she found the six tiny boats dragged up onto stands, away from the damaging ice.
"Uh, Caeednce?" she whispered, entering the shipyard. She was out of the gusty wind’s reach entirely now, and every step she took echoed through the yard. Her skin prickled when she felt breath on the back of her neck.
"Niamh? What are you doing here?"
Niamh ploughed straight into Caeednce.
Caeednce let out a small giggle and Niamh noticed how Caeednce’s hair glittered. Taken aback, Niamh asked clumsily,
"Are you originally from here Caeednce?" Niamh whispered, her voice grating against the silence.
"You came here to ask me about my origins?" the girl retorted, climbing on top of an upturned ship. Perched on the unsteady rudder she waited for a response.
Niamh shrugged.
"Actually I need your help, but I am curious."
Caeednce turned away and gazed into the distance.
“It doesn’t matter where I come from, or where I wish I could go…All I know, is that I have no means to leave Muspary, even in the summer.”
Niamh placed her hand over Caeednce's hoping it communicated compassion, as she meant it. A moment passed and she looked out to the frozen sea.
"I need to enter the library. There are maps inside,” said Niamh. Then searching Caeednce's face for any response, she added, "Is there no record or book in that library that could help you?"
Niamh said the words knowing how loaded they sounded. It was obvious she needed to convince Caeednce to help her. But she did also mean to help her, as long as their aims overlapped.
“The library was only locked recently,” said Caeednce. “I’ve searched before. It’s funds I lack, not knowledge.”
“So you do know a way out of here then?”
Caeednce sighed and replied, “Not in winter.”
"Come with me, Caeednce."
Caeednce registered shock on her face, then something new. A different emotion she hadn't seen on anyone's face in this place since she arrived. Was it optimism, or determination?
"I will help you."
Niamh didn't smile, but matching Caeednce’s serious tone said, "Thank you. I need an object smithed so that it works a specific way..." She used her hands to describe what she was after. Then with plans made, they agreed to meet again at sunset.
"Don't thank me yet,” said Caeednce. “You will need more help than me. I am only small."
"But skilled. And strong." Niamh countered.
"Both true," said Caeednce smiling, “But we want to succeed."
Niamh wasn't sure where she was going with this, but she decided to trust her.
"What do you have in mind?" said Niamh.
"You met him already. I will make Aarin help us. You will get your map, and I will leave this place. Lord Egleril will be none the wiser," she chuckled quietly, and Niamh was bolstered by her spirit. She thought of her sisters and touched the emptiness on her wrist. Niamh was certain she’d reach Oplijah, and soon.
✽✽✽
Niamh moved through the streets hooded and silent with Caeednce’s handiwork tucked safely in her gown’s pocket. Her steps made no sound, and she left no shadow. Finding the library again had been easy, and Veayre and Aarin matched her stealth skills satisfactorily. Aarin's identity as a street sweeper seemed less likely to be true the more she saw of him. He made an impressive figure in the moonlight. He strode beside her, his long straight hair shining black as the night, and even cloaked she could see defined muscles across his shoulders. They approached the library and she glanced to her left to watch Veayre take her place. Stationed as planned, she would alert them of any trouble. Veayre hurried to her position and took up the posture of someone waiting. Niamh breathed a sigh of relief. Veayre had kicked up quite a fuss while they planned.
Niamh nodded at Aarin. They moved in unison, stepping to the locked door of the library. They had discussed their plan in hushed whispers earlier in between Veayre’s rants. Niamh had wanted to recant on Caeednce's involvement, and just bust the place open. But Aarin urged her to keep her cool. This way, the library was theirs to access whenever they wanted. And he pointed out that he'd prefer not to get thrown in a cell anytime soon. She'd ignored his sly smirk, but taken the point. Lifting out Caeednce’s crafted device, Niamh knelt down. She worked on the lock while Aarin stood behind her. Every action had been planned out in advance to avoid notice.
Caeednce and Aarin had explained that most people would support their endeavour, but the likelihood anyone would help them was slim.
Something clicked inside the lock, and Niamh smiled up at Aarin. He pressed his palm on the heavy door and pushed. They both cringed at the creaking sound from the rusted hinges. Aarin braced his feet and pushed again. With the door open wide enough for both of them to squeeze through, they vanished inside.
Aarin produced a short candle, and a tiny flame flickered to life.
"I don't understand why you don't use the glowing stones here,” said Niamh.
"What are they?" said Aarin, leading them down a dark hallway.
"They explain themselves. And you don't risk everything going up-" she leant over to lift Aarin's dropped arm away from a pile of scrolls, “in flames.”
"It's true. Most of Muspary is flammable. It all burns if given the chance."
"Do you know how this place is organized?" Niamh whispered.
"This way."
Aarin lifted her hand to his shoulder and stepped forward illuminating a small globe about them as he went. She followed, hand obediently staying in its place. They passed through three rooms before Aarin stopped.
"There," Aarin whispered.
Being unable to see everything frustrated Niamh, but they passed desks crowded with dusty books, and scrolls stacked against a wall. Shelving wrapped around the walls. But Niamh couldn't see what he meant until he raised the candle higher. The framed map hung on the wall.
"Help me," said Niamh quietly.
Together they lifted it down. Laying it across a cluttered desk, Niamh quickly got to work separating it from its frame. Transporting it and keeping it hidden would be impossible otherwise. Aarin held the tiny candle high, hoping to shed enough light for Niamh. Niamh ran her fingers along the edge of the frame and willed it to separate from the parchment. Frowning, she worked around its edges until-
In unison, Niamh and Aarin whirled around, staring into the darkened hall. Without speaking they hurtled backward until their backs pressed against the shelved walls. Niamh heard the puff of Aarin's breath as the flame vanished.
Footsteps.
Then silence.
Holding her breath, Niamh tried to stay calm. Getting out of here undiscovered would be difficult. The narrow passageways left no room for escape. And they still hadn’t freed the map yet.
Another footstep.
Wishing she could at least see Aarin's face, Niamh peered through the pitch darkness, thinking if they worked together they might have a chance. Wavering light flickered to life in the hall. Blinking, Niamh mentally kicked herself with dismay. Of course they brought a lantern. What kind of person seeks out trouble-makers in pure darkness?
The footsteps grew louder and the small light of the lantern got closer and closer. Niamh decided there was nothing for it. If she were seen, she didn't have a chance. All her priestess training was useless here, and any old arts she knew relied on giant sweeping movements. Inside the library, she was a caged bird with clipped wings. Silently Niamh edged her way down the wall
, unsure of where she was going. Feeling her way along the shelf, she ignored the irritation of the dust collecting on her fingertips and almost made a noise when her hand reached around the edge of a door frame. She smiled, unseen. There was another room behind this one. Hopefully, Aarin had the same thought as her. But her mind flashed to Veayre. She was keeping a lookout for them. And she had given them no signal. Dismayed at the thought of her traveling companion in trouble, she hesitated in the doorway.
One mistake.
"There you are."
Fright prickled up her arms, goosebumps racing to her shoulders. But she heard Aarin's soft chuckle, and confused, she faced their supposed foe.
It wasn't an enemy at all. The globe of lantern’s glow revealed a friend. Locked in a strong handshake, Aarin gripped the forearm of Iilen.
"You scared me!" Niamh hissed across the room. Iilen’s smiling eyes met hers in apology.
"Veayre pointed me in here,” said Iilen. “You didn't think you could have this much fun without me did you?"
Niamh saw that comment was mainly aimed at Aarin and returned to the map. With both the small candle and the lantern, she was able to make faster work of it. Niamh wished she could be searching over the map and gleaning information from it immediately, but laying the map upside down was the only way she was going to get it off the frame. It was finicky and fragile and she wished she didn't have to rush it so much.
Iilen's head turned towards the door they'd entered through all of a sudden. He seemed to be looking hard, then shrugged and turned his attention back to Niamh’s map extraction.
"We shouldn't stay much longer,” said Aarin, his voice reduced to a whisper. Niamh glanced up at a noise. The quick shuffle of Aarin’s feet wasn’t loud on the dusty floor, but she glanced up in time to watch him knock all five books to the floor. Each one of them screamed their location to anyone nearby. Aarin’s face contorted in panic.
