A Secret Atlas (3 page)

world emerged from the years of ice, snow, and wild magic, the Anturasi gift took on

greater significance. Until the time of his grandfather, however, Nalenyr had neither the

leadership nor the resources to exploit it.

Fifty-six years ago—when his grandfather was only his age and the world was smaller—a

tiger-sized wolf was ravaging herds in the northern mountains. The then–Naleni Prince—

Prince Cyron’s father—was set to go hunting and had a dream that he would slay the

beast. Try as he might, year after year, the Prince failed to fulfill his dream until Qiro

Anturasi performed a minor miracle. Qiro had undertaken a survey of the area and

presented the Prince with a map that took the Prince directly to his prey. The Prince slew

the wolf and granted Qiro a private audience as a reward.

The story had become part of family legend, along with other tales of Qiro’s subsequent

travels west to reclaim the Spice Road. Though he failed in that latter mission, the Prince

still showed great favor to the family. Qiro moved to its head, eclipsing his own father. He

browbeat his brother, Ulan, into absolute obedience. Qiro’s iron-willed control of the family

soon extended to all Ulan’s progeny and his own grandchildren. Keles and his siblings

knew very well what Qiro expected of them and complied at one level or another.

At my level, compliance; at Jorim’s, none. Nirati cannot, though she does what she

can.
Keles shivered. His sister did not have to worry about Qiro’s ire, and both the older siblings did what they could to shield Jorim. Without their efforts, Qiro would have broken

him, chaining him to a drafting table beside his cousins, shutting away someone who lived

to explore the world.

Keles knew, someday, there would be no protecting Jorim and that even he would fall

under his grandfather’s suspicions. Qiro had usurped his own father’s place. Ryn Anturasi,

Keles’ father, had fought horribly with Qiro until his death. The old man clearly expected

that Keles or Jorim would try to replace him and, if the family’s fortunes were to be

maintained, one day one of them would.

Not something to think about. Not today. Not before the Festival. Not before she gets

here.

Keles cleared his mind of dire musings and studied the city again. Bright pennants and

brighter coats of paint made the city new again. It had been a good year, with a number of

sailing vessels returning to the capital, their holds bulging. They carried exotic items from

places as far as Tas al Aud and Aefret, including dyes for clothes, spices, artworks, and

strange animals for the Prince’s preserve. Envoys from distant nations likewise took

passage on the Prince’s Wolves, sailing to Moriande to celebrate the dynasty’s

anniversary.

The Imperial duties levied on those cargoes would easily pay for the Festival. More

importantly for the Anturasi, since those ships used charts created by Qiro, a percentage

of their profits came to him. While any one merchant might profit when a ship returned,

Qiro profited when
any
ship returned. This fact was not lost on anyone, least of all the Prince.

The crunch of footsteps on the gravel at the garden’s edge brought Keles around. A

shaven-headed servant in brown bowed. “Pardon, Master Keles, but Lady Majiata

Phoesel has come.”

“Please, bring her here.” The invitation was but a formality, for he could see Majiata

waiting in the shadows of the tower’s entrance. Formalities had to be observed, however,

as she was nobility. Despite their being betrothed and of intimate acquaintance, familiarity

would not do. He bowed low in her direction and waited until the hem of her blue gown

came into view before he straightened, fighting to hide a smile.

Taking tiny steps, she entered the garden, bypassing stone planters brimming with the

finest examples of
bhotri
in the capital—outside the Imperial Palace, of course. Several of the plants had been grown by
jaecaibhot,
whose skill reached magical proportions. The

miniature pine tree at her right elbow perched on a rock and trembled with a breeze that

went unfelt. Other dwarf trees would produce bountiful harvests of pea-sized fruit as

succulent as their normal-sized cousins regardless of the seasons, so skilled was the

Mystic arborist in the Anturasi employ.

Majiata, as always, surrendered little in comparison to the brilliant blooms in the garden.

Gold silk trousers and sash complemented the deep blue of her robe. A sapphire set in

gold rested at the hollow of her throat, and smaller examples of the same stone in gold

settings shone from her earlobes. Her dark hair had been gathered and swept up,

restrained by a gold chain around her brow, with a sapphire dangling at her forehead.

While her features were not as delicate as those of most hereditary nobility, she had an

undeniable beauty. Heavy eyelashes and lids blackened with kohl accentuated her

cerulean eyes, and reminded him of how she looked in the dimness of the midnight hours.

“Welcome, my lady Majiata.”

She inclined her head only slightly in his direction, giving him the first inkling of trouble.

“You are kind in your greeting, Keles.”

“Mai, what is wrong?”

He took a step forward, raising his hands toward hers, but she did not return the gesture.

For a moment he thought it might be that she objected to his attire, for his bright yellow

shirt did not match the gold of her robes, and his trousers and overshirt of green were far

less rich in hue than her gown. He let his hands drift back to his sides and lifted his head,

straightening his spine.

No anger flashed in her eyes, but he fully expected it. Her reply came softly, but even

whispered it was less a question than a statement. “You have not told him yet.”

“No, darling, but don’t be angry.” Keles smiled broadly. “It is not easy to tell my

grandfather anything. You know this.”

“But you have not even tried.” Her left hand emerged from the opposite sleeve, letting the

diamond ring he’d given her glint in the sunlight. “If you truly loved me, you would have

told him what I asked you.”

“Mai, you know I love you.” He clapped his hands together and wanted to leap with the joy

in his heart. “I’ve thought of something much better, my dearest. It’s perfect.”

“Perfect, my darling, is for us to be together, not separated as you go off on the
Stormwolf
.

I know that your grandfather has reserved a great honor for you by sending you to sail

around the Eastern Sea. I know there is much to see and explore. I know you dearly want

to do that, but you will be gone for a year, two,
five
! What of us all that time?”

“I know, I know, but that is what is perfect about my plan, Majiata.” He looked at her with

hazel eyes full of enthusiasm. “You took my ring knowing what I would be doing, what my

life would be like. And I want to be with you, so I have found the perfect solution. I’ve

made the arrangements. You can come
with
me in the fleet, on the
Stormwolf
.”

Her gaze flicked up as she whispered breathlessly and a tremor ran through her.

“Come
with
you?”

“Yes, darling, yes, it will be perfect.” He took her hands in his, squeezing them. “Istor

Araset is the
bhotcai
who will be with us, and you can learn much from him. Think of the new plants you will see, the new places! We will walk where men have not been before.

We will taste exotic fruits. We will see animals and vistas no man has ever laid eyes on.

You
will
be a great help for me and to me. We will even have a cabin to ourselves. I won’t command the ship; Anaeda Gryst will do that, but she is a brilliant captain who has sailed

to Aefret and back again faster than anyone else. She’s willing to take you with us . . .

What’s wrong?”

His voice petered out as she withdrew her hands from his.

“
With
you?” She looked at him with shock and pain in her eyes. “Do you love me so little as to even suggest that?”

Keles blinked in amazement. “W-what do you mean? I love you so much I want you with

me.”

“But you don’t think of me at all, do you? You think only of yourself.” She opened her arms

wide. “You would take me from family and friends?”

“I will be your family.”

“And if you die on the trip?” She turned away from him. “You describe all the wonders, but

you forget the horrors. The diseases. The lack of water. Stale food. Storms. Storms

sufficient to snap a ship in half. You’ll sail south, maybe to find these fabled Mountains of

Ice, but what if you do? You’ll spend months with your teeth chattering, losing fingers and

toes to frostbite. Do you want me to lose fingers and toes, Keles?”

“No, you don’t understand . . .”

“And freezing is the least of our worries. Don’t you see that? Don’t you know why I want

you here, in Moriande, learning from your grandfather?” Her voice became glacial. “Have

you forgotten what happened to your father? What Qiro did to your father?”

“M-Majiata, you know better than to believe old wives’ tales.”

“And you denigrate the truth by labeling it fable.” Her eyes slitted. “You were all of seven

when it happened and I was barely beyond suckling at my nurse’s breast. Your

grandfather sent your father off on such a journey. Qiro was jealous of him and your father

defiant, so your grandfather had him killed. Your father, the
Wavewolf,
everyone on

it,
dead
!”

“No, that is not true. Not true at all.” Keles scrubbed a hand over his face, then looked

imploringly at her. “Don’t you see, Majiata? I have to go on the
Stormwolf
. It is my duty to my family, to ensure the future.
Our
future. Can’t you understand that?”

“I understand completely, Keles. I understand how selfish your love is—that you put the

Anturasi before your love of me. I want you here not only so he cannot kill you, but so I

can help you.”

She clasped her hands together, looked down, and spoke calmly in a small voice, a

helpless voice. “You know that growing flowers is not my true talent. That lies at court,

using my influence with my family to help shape the court’s thinking. I can do that for you. I

want to be a help to you, but if you are going to abandon me, I am powerless to promote

you. And perhaps you think ill of me, but I do think of the Anturasi fortunes. There are

ships that go out without Anturasi charts. But with my help, laws can be passed so that will

never happen again. Don’t you want that?”

“Of course I do, Mai.”

“But I think you want adventure more. You want to be sent away from here. Away from

me. Why is it you want to be sent away from me, Keles?”

The sob that choked her last word raised a lump in his throat that prevented him from

speaking. He lifted his hands and settled them on her shoulders, but she shrugged her

way free, dipping her head as she began to weep. Keles froze, uncertain what to do. His

guts knotted and his empty hands flexed.

With all the time in the world I could not think of the right thing to say.

“The answer to your question, Mai Phoesel, should be obvious.”

Keles turned as his twin sister entered the garden. As tall as he was, with lighter brown

hair and green eyes, she had sharp features that had earned her the nickname of Fox

when they were children. Though she had since grown into a beauty, that vulpine nature

still lingered, though more in the tightness of her eyes and the quickness of her mind than

in anything else. Lest anyone forget it, however, her black robe did have running

embroidery of foxes gamboling.

Mai turned and snorted. “Spying again, Nirati?”

“Hardly necessary, since you always read from the same script. I have said nothing to my

brother before. I speak now because what you ask affects my whole family. It is not that I

love you any less than the family, dear brother, but her meddling has gone too far.”

Keles frowned. “Really, Nirati, I don’t think . . .”

“You
do
think, brother, when given the chance, but you don’t see when you are being

used.” His sister pointed at Mai, who seemed to have shrunk a little. “She wants to help

you, of course. She mentions ships that sail without Anturasi charts. Well, her family’s

trading company has long done without them. Her father came to our grandfather after

you were betrothed and demanded access to charts since we were ‘practically family.’

Grandfather told him to come back when she was actually wedded to you and her belly

swollen with a child we could prove was yours.”

Mai gasped in horror and Keles moved to comfort her.

“Don’t bother, brother, she’s not worth it. Her only failing in this matter has been because

of her vanity.” Nirati’s eyes sharpened. “She was supposed to have conceived your child

by now, but she failed. Was it that you dreaded morning sickness, Majiata, or feared

becoming bloated and ugly—as ugly as you are inside?”

“Neither.” Mai stroked a hand over her belly. “You’re a fool, Nirati. Two nights ago your

brother and I lay together. Even now his child is growing in my belly.”

“No, little Mai.” Nirati shook her head, her brown locks a shimmering curtain spilling over

the shoulders of her gown. “For one who prides herself in a paltry talent at
bhotri,
you have long since neglected your studies. You must have noticed the tinge of bitterness in