The Witches of Ne'arth (The Star Wizards Trilogy Book 2)

by Joseph Schembrie

  Ivan directed them through the trail that had been spotted from the sky. Meandering through the woods, they emerged upon the road. It was the best built road that Matt had yet seen on Ne'arth. It was paved with the same substance as the Oksiden Road, but two lanes wide and whereas the Britanian roads bore the cracks and undulations of age, this road was smooth and flat as if it had been recently formed.

  As they began walking toward the town, Matt noticed that the road was lined with trees, evenly spaced a few meters apart on both sides. The trees resembled fruit trees, the 'fruit' being clusters of translucent blue globes each the size of a cantaloupe.

  “Those are different,” Matt said.

  Savora followed this nod. “Yes, the mountains are smaller here than back home.”

  He was about to explain what he meant, then held his tongue. Savora should have known what he meant. Britan had mountains, but he'd yet to see a tree there of that kind.

  “Matt,” Ivan said. “A vehicle is approaching from the east.”

  A horse-drawn carriage trundled by. The driver and passengers glanced over the pair of pedestrians trudging along the roadside, then looked away without reaction. Matt compared clothing styles. The women were dressed – overdressed – in billowing skirts with wide hats, but the men wore shirts and pants not much different than Matt's and Savora's. For the purpose of blending in, Savora had gotten her tailoring exactly right. Perhaps there was convergent evolution for fashion.

  Or perhaps, Matt thought, something else.

  “Savora,” Matt said cautiously. “Andra says you come from a village in West Britan. Could you tell me about it?”

  “It's called Stone Brook,” she replied. “It's eighty-three kilometers west of Fish Lake, fourteen kilometers north of the Oksiden Road. It has seven houses built around a clearing with three trees in the middle. Although as I said my father is a merchant, my family has farmed there for generations.” She met his gaze with an unnervingly bright smile. “Earth must be so exciting! I've listened to every story that others have related, but it would be wonderful if you could tell me directly!”

  Mindful that she had changed the subject, he told her about Earth. Meanwhile, Ivan checked out her story against his archives of satellite photography and provided the results in a pop-up window. Eighty-three kilometers was almost at the end of the Oksiden Road, just a few kilometers inland from the Western Sea. There, a trail branched north and after fourteen kilometers came to a village with seven houses and three trees. The nearby brook had a fordable section with several stepping stones.

  The details of her description were easily verified, he thought. Too easily. If that makes sense.

  Matt thought that he had overcome the basic shyness and chronic passivity that had afflicted his childhood on Earth, but it soon became clear that Savora was dominating their conversation. Not by talking all the time, however. Instead, she would ask Matt a question, listen intently to his reply, then before he could think of a question to ask her, she would ask another question. And they weren't questions with simple 'yes' or 'no' answers, they were 'why is such-and-such' and 'how is so-and-so' questions that forced him to launch into lengthy explanations. It wasn't that she was deflecting questions about her personal life, she wasn't even giving him the chance to ask.

  After Matt had made a thorough disquisition on all things Seattle, Savora immediately segued: “So tell me about Carrot!”

  Caught off-guard, Matt replied, “Well, uh, I like her a lot.”

  Savora laughed. “I'm so glad you've finally found someone!”

  I'm only seventeen, Matt thought ruefully. True, customs were different in a pre-industrial society, and he had already thought many times that (someday) he might marry Carrot, but he found himself annoyed at Savora's lack of tact.

  Savora continued: “Carrot is such a wonderful person. Very principled, very focused. She knows what she wants and goes for it. I admire that.”

  Matt knew that was how Carrot often appeared to people who had just met her. Know her for a while, though, and you knew that she was riddled with self-doubt and indecision. Savora, apparently, wasn't the type of person to see past the veil.

  One good thing about conversation, Matt realized, was that it made time go by. The two hours of monotonous walking passed and they topped a hill and came within sight of the town. Matt stopped to survey.

  The buildings were brick and stone, the wide avenues were paved and bordered with the ubiquitous blue-globe trees. The streets thronged with horse-drawn wagons and coaches, but no motor vehicles, not even a trolley or train. Matt looked for lamp posts, as illumination is always a telltale of technological advancement, but he found none. Just the blue-globe trees. If the town had electricity, the wires had to be buried.

  Savora was looking at him. Matt realized it was his decision.

  “Let's go in,” he said. “Keep a look out for trouble.”

  They walked in silence, and as he made further observations, Matt subvocaled, “Steam power and mature lighter-than-air transportation, some signs of electrical usage but no power grid, and no internal combustion engines. What do you think, Ivan? What era would this be like on a time line of Earth technological history? Mid-industrial revolution?”

  “Commonality in the design of carriage fittings indicates mass production techniques developed during that period,” Ivan replied. “Overall, the inventions manifested correspond to those attained in the middle of the nineteenth century on Earth, though with some variance.”

  “Variance? What kind of?”

  “For example, I do not detect electromagnetic fields emanating from telegraph wires.”

  “You detect any electromagnetic activity at all?”

  “No signals or interference other than natural sources.”

  “I know that tone of voice. You want to say more but you're not sure it's important. Go ahead.”

  “I am receiving natural electromagnetic emanations from many directions. As expected, electromagnetic background noise is strongest in the direction of the Sun, and weakest from the ground. However, my EM scan indicates an anomaly. There is a very slight drop in expected background noise strength in one direction.”

  “As if from shielding?”

  “Yes, Matt.”

  “Have you registered this anomaly for a while, as if it's pacing us?”

  “Yes, Matt. How did you know?”

  “Because it's in Savora's head.” Matt made an effort not to look at her.

  “Scanning. Yes, Matt. The anomaly appears to be localized in proximity to her cranium.”

  “A bunch of little things haven't seemed right about her. But you would have told me if she had a neural implant, right?”

  “I would have informed you immediately had I received the conventional electromagnetic traces. I realize now that I must qualify my previous assertion. I would not be able to detect an implant if it incorporated sufficiently sophisticated shielding technology.”

  “Such as an implant might have, if it came from Earth a few centuries after we did.”

  “Yes, Matt.”

  “Ivan, from now on I want you to conduct routine background EM analyses and immediately inform me of any anomalies.”

  “You mean, specifically those that may indicate the presence of a shielded implant.”

  “Yes. Also, you can stop with the diagnostics. Savora caused the memory gaps in both of us.”

  “I agree that is likely, Matt. Do you have an explanation as to how?”

  “No, and I would very much like to know how she got inside my head. Do you have any ideas?”

  “I will investigate for evidence of invasive neural activity.”

  There were no checkpoints and they entered the streets of the city without being accosted by civil authority. There was a sprinkling of police officers, however, individuals in muted blue uniforms who wore hand-held firearms in holsters and casually strolled the sidewalks, unobtrusive and observant. Matt and Savora seemed to blend in with the civilians well
enough that the officers took no special notice of the far travelers

  If Matt felt any sense of intense surveillance, it was coming from Savora. Whenever he turned to her, she turned to him, flashing that wide smile that he was coming to see as contrived.

  Why is she here with me? he wondered. He had decided to play along, but he was getting agitated to the point where he could no longer keep appearances.

  “You seem quiet,” she said.

  “Just thinking.”

  “I've been doing that too. I think we should look for a book shop.”

  “Book shop?”

  “It's a kind of shop that sells books.”

  “I know what a book shop is, they used to have them on Earth. I meant, what about a book shop?”

  “My father took me to Londa once, and we visited a book shop. There were many books about the world – that side of the world. If we could find a book shop here, the books might tell us much about this side of the world.”

  He admitted that it was a good idea. During their sojourn on the streets, he had already overheard enough conversations and seen enough signs in Standard to know that language would not be a barrier.

  “All right. But where are we going to find a book shop?”

  “In Londa, the book shops were located near the waterfront.”

  “Well, we can go there and see. Lead on.”

  “Oh, I'm not in charge. You are. You're the Wizard!”

  Matt reflected her smile and took the lead, fully aware that he was the one being led.

  Weaving through the crowds, they descended to the waterfront. For the first time that day, after traveling hundreds of kilometers over sea, Matt heard the lapping of waves and caught the scent of salt in the air. The ships at pier waved various flags, the crews wore multiple forms of dress. The plethora of sailors made certain that obscenities were in heavy use. Although phonetic modifications were common, everyone still spoke Standard. It seemed to be the universal language of the planet, which made sense, as humans had been on the planet for only centuries.

  With the bustle of commerce accompanied by the shrieking of gulls and the rocking of boats, Matt had a sense of deja vu and was transported in memory to the Bay of Rome. Rome – where he and Carrot had whiled away the summer days as guests in the House of Archimedes, talking and laughing and sharing. If he could have stopped time, he would have stopped it then.

  Savora tugged his sleeve. “A book shop!”

  For a locale that might prove invaluable to their quest, it was compact and nondescript, jammed between tenements like a kitten between grown dogs. Framed by moss-grown bricks, a single window overlooked the street.

  The display held several titles, propped on stands and opened to pages of neatly printed lines. The prices were listed in 'gm sil,' which Matt took to mean grams of silver. If so, the average price of a tome was equal to a day's wage at Ravencall. The window, Matt noted, had metal shutters.

  Savora pushed the door open. A little bell dinged over their heads, attracting the attention of the clerk behind the counter. He gave a nod and returned to his book, though his eyes weren't moving across the lines. Via AR overlay arrow, Ivan indicated to Matt a chunk of metal concealed behind the counter that matched the size of a firearm.

  Matt entered in trepidation, wondering if it was indeed only a book shop or something more, expecting any moment that Savora's as-yet-hypothetical accomplices would leap from concealment, assault him and drag him into a hidden passage for interrogation and torture.

  Or maybe she really is Synth, he thought. There could be any number of reasons why Synth would come to Ne'arth, why she would seek Matt, why she would refrain from confiding her identity. Perhaps she really was here just to help.

  Play along.

  Well-dressed men and women browsed amid the tables, which were occupied by stacks of books. Matt inspected a prominently displayed book at the table closest to the door. The cover illustration portrayed a woman holding a bejeweled scepter and crown, with an expression that Matt decided would henceforth be his definition of a 'regal smile.' The title of the book was: Her Royal Majesty Queen Aruza the Second: The Official Biography.

  Matt fanned through the pages of that book and several more, until he noticed the clerk was frowning. The clerk couldn't possibly know that Ivan was scanning the pages, but Matt guiltily closed the book he was holding and wandered toward the wall. There was pinned an ornately illustrated map, meters high and wide, entitled, The Attainable World.

  “Ivan, you are getting this in high resolution, I hope.”

  “In anticipation of your request, Matt.”

  “I'd like you to do a comparison between this map and our satellite telemetry. Also, the atlas we saw at Fish Lake.”

  “Yes, Matt,” Ivan replied. Seconds later: “Matt, I have completed a preliminary comparison between the maps. Would you like an overview?”

  “Very much.”

  “This map covers what is known as the 'Amero Archipelago' in the Fish Lake atlas. The major islands match in shape, size, and position with what is depicted in satellite telemetry and in the Fish Lake atlas. Several names have been changed from the Fish Lake nomenclature, however. The Fish Lake atlas indicated no cities in the Amero Archipelago, and the same likewise for satellite telemetry of this region, but this map indicates numerous population centers.”

  Matt glanced over at Savora. She was on the other side of the shop, browsing. He returned his attention to the map on the wall.

  “Can you tell me where we are now on this map?”

  “If my calibration of longitude is correct, we are here.”

  Ivan provided an AR arrow. There was a region called 'The Sea of Atlan,' and within it was an island called 'Novasco,' and upon the island was a city called 'Hafik.'

  “This island did not show up on the satellite telemetry.”

  “No, Matt. It was also omitted from the Fish Lake atlas.”

  Ivan had provided an icon in Matt's field of vision entitled, Fish Lake Atlas. Matt willed it open. The map in the pop-up window, a photograph of a page from the book he'd viewed on his second night on the planet, was only a simplified version of what he saw before him, and many of the smaller land masses on the wall map were missing from the Fish Lake atlas.

  “It was probably omitted from the Fish Lake atlas for the sake of drawing simplification,” Matt said. “For satellite telemetry, though – well, it's like someone wanted to make it harder to fly to this side, by hiding the stepping stones across the sea. We could have easily flown over empty water until we ran low on fuel and had to turn back, if Savora hadn't spotted this island.”

  How fortunate, he thought. He glanced again at Savora. She was a couple tables away, stroking a book cover as if it were a rare antique, her expression near rapturous.

  Matt returned his attention to the map. He mentally backtracked the flight path of the Good Witch, going rightward and eastward. The edge of the map came well before Britan would have appeared. At the very edge of the map was a shaded gray bar about the thickness of his hand.

  Storm Barrier, the legend read.

  The bar extended downward almost vertically until it reached the southern edge of the map. There the bar continued clockwise to follow the edge until it reached the left side of the map, where it curled upward. Sensing the trend, Matt stepped back to take in the entirety of the map. Sure enough, the gray bar wrapped around the archipelago like a cowboy's lasso around the neck of a steer.

  Every few centimeters along the length was printed the same legend: Storm Barrier.

  “Since when does a storm appear on a map?” Matt asked.

  “Storms are often portrayed on dynamic weather maps,” Ivan said.

  “I'm sorry, what I meant is, on this format of map.” Matt had always been fascinated with ancient ink-and-paper printing technologies, and had held discussions about the subject with Archimedes, who had apprenticed in a printer's shop in Kresidala. Thus he discoursed: “This is a map printed by a special
kind of printing press. It requires special ink impression plates and the publishing schedule takes months. That means the storm barrier was around months ago, and they expected it to still be around now in the exact same place, or they wouldn't have bothered putting it on the map. So what do we have here? A permanent storm?”

  “It appears so. I do not have sufficient information to offer an explanation.”

  Matt wondered if Andra had provided one, when she had asked whether the Lords of Aereoth could make a 'wall of storm.' Maybe they could. They could terraform planets and construct ecosystems, so why not toss in a permanent storm barrier here or there? Perhaps the most important question was not how, but why.

  As for that, the encirclement of the archipelago indicated that the barrier was created to keep something in. By crossing the barrier into the enclosure, they had entered the lair of whatever was considered too dangerous to allow outside. The unintended consequence, Matt realized, was that industrial technology had been inhibited from spreading elsewhere on the planet.

  Or was the consequence unintended? Perhaps, to limit ecological damage to the planet, unfettered early industrial technology was purposely being lassoed by the storm barrier and the air whales.

  Not air whales, Matt corrected himself. Sky Serpents.

  Symbols – each a tiny 'S' in a circle – peppered the entire looping extent of the storm barrier. Referring to the map's legend, the symbol was identified as, Verified Recent Sighting of Sky Serpent(s).

  He recalled that the world-map he'd seen in Archimedes' basement library carried the notation, Dragons are here. He had assumed that it referred to dinosaurs resurrected by genetic engineering. He was learning to be careful about assuming things when it came to Ne'arth.

  Matt's rumination over the map was distracted by a familiar noise. It was a noise that he'd heard daily on the streets of Rome and that Mirian had savored over and over again aboard the airship the night before: a pure, almost lyrical ringing. At the counter, the clerk was balancing a fifty-gram silver piece on a knuckle, tapping the edge of the coin with a knife. Savora was standing before him, and when Matt zoomed in he saw that the coin the clerk was handling bore the visage of former Emperor Hadron.