World in the Satin Bag

(Note:  This is not official version and may be removed in the near future.  This do not reflect what is read in the podcast version, nor any other version you may encounter.  I have preserved the rough form for posterity — or something like that.  This novel has since been rewritten.) “Listen closely,” Belrin said. “There is no room for error.” James leaned over and peered into the map of Traea. His gaze became fixed on Teirlin’pur. This is where we are going, he thought. What will it be like? Will it be a frightening place just like its ruler? Will we be able to get in without being caught? He pushed the thoughts away and looked back into the now serious eyes of Belrin. Darl leaned in too, grumbling something incomprehensible. James could barely see the old man’s lips move under the scraggly white beard. “You must go north of the city. There you will find a path through the Forest of Gall. It will not be an easy path, but I believe you can pass through relatively unhindered.” Belrin waved his hand over the forest. “This area will not be pleasant, but safer than trying to go east and slip by Luthien’s army. Not much is known of the forest other than it lives. In some manner of speaking.” “In some manner of speaking?” Darl said, his voice coming out in mocking groans. “Much more than mere animals dwell within the far reaches. We hear the sounds of beings neither human nor animal. Beings sentient, screeching a language that we cannot understand and will never understand. No one has seen them, whatever they are.” “Are they dangerous?” “Only to travelers who do not leave when warned.” “But you said you can’t understand what they say,” James said. “They block paths, drive away horses, even Blaersteeds, and put out fires. Mischievous little creatures the whole lot.” James wondered what could possibly live in the forest that could be such a nuisance. He thought of the native peoples in the Amazon and how easy it was for them to hide from explorers, at least those that had no great buildings or statues to boast with. He wondered if such peoples had warned the first explorers, or if they had become violent when their warnings were unheeded. “Now, when you reach the eastern side of the forest you need to travel north along the Nor’duíl River until you reach the Summering Rocks. The water should be low enough for you to cross without a raft. The current should pose no problems. Nor’sigal is immediately east and should take you no more than half a day once across.” “What if we’re followed or Luthien has scouts along the river?” Pea said. Belrin looked down at Pea, and softly said, “Then you ride hard through the Black Tundra to the Black Sands until the Blaersteeds buck you or you pass out.” He looked away and continued, “Lord Falth is expecting you at Nor’sigal, or should be if our falcon reached him. He’ll be able to tell you what to expect in the Fire Rim.” His finger glided over a long flame colored line on the map. James listened intently. He made a mental note to remember every detail. From Nor’sigal they were to travel north over the Nor’kal River, across the plains beyond and into the Fire Rim. There would be their hardest terrain—fire, marshlands, bogs, and clouded skies. The fires had raged there for centuries. He had read about it in the etiquette book. Ashes filled the atmosphere like water in a cup, falling in flurries of gray, brown, and black—a Christmas of dark colors. Nothing survived there. The trees that had once made a home there had long since died and become fuel for the fires. Powerful magic had been used to force the burning remnants to drive straight up into the sky to protect the lands beyond. No magic could stop the fires. They burned with such unnatural intensity that those who had tried to put them out failed miserably. He worried if they could make it through such terrain. It seemed so utterly impossible even for the Blaersteeds. Making camp there would only hinder them further. He knew they could not stand the polluted air for long without becoming ill—or without dying. There was little he could do to protect his lungs against such a terrible onslaught. From the Fire Rim they were to take a slight northeast path above the Spyder Range to the Pahn’drys Valley that sat north of Teirlin’pur, split by the center of the mountains there. “There is a path there,” Belrin said. “It sits along the mountains. It leads under the earth to a spot just north of Teirlin’pur. Be as common as you can. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself. Luthien and his people do not know who you are. It’s not a heavily traveled path, but neither is it entirely bare or forgotten. Try to seem like simple travelers and you should have no problems passing through and gaining entry to the city. Luthien is evil, but he still runs an empire that needs to support itself. Teirlin’pur will not so easily turn away potential customers.” James drew an imaginary line on the map to help him remember the path that Belrin had set out for them. The journey didn’t look remotely easy. He hoped they wouldn’t run into any scouts; he prayed that they would make it to Teirlin’pur in one piece. “We think that your friend may be kept in the northern towers. Let your Blaersteeds rest at this point. When you find your friend you must ride nonstop to Sempur. A ship will be there that can take you off the mainland.” “Where do you propose we go?” Darl said angrily. “Gallivanting across the ocean hoping that any stop we make won’t lead us to capture?” His arms were crossed. “The Wunder Isles.” Pea choked. “Are