The Law of Isolation

The Law of Isolation

by Angela Holder

Deore Press

Houston, Texas

For my daughter, Rachel.

One

T
he lens glittered as Gevan held it up to the sunlight. Much better than the last one. Only a few tiny bubbles, and just the faintest tinge of green. Gevan lowered the lens and nodded at the spectacle maker. “Wonderful, Arlen. Wherever did you find glass so clear?”

“I have my sources.” Arlen grinned at him. “I take it you find it suitable?”

“Oh, yes.” Gevan tilted the lens so the morning light slanting from the window shone through the curved glass. He adjusted it until the small yellow circle cast on the spectacle shop counter shrank to a single point. Within seconds, a wisp of smoke curled up. Gevan moved the lens lest he burn too much of a mark, though the countertop was marred by many similar black dots. If it were a common burning glass he sought, he could have spared a great deal of effort and expense. “It’s just as I asked.”

He wouldn’t be able to tell if the clarity was sufficient and the shape true to his precise specifications until he got back to his workshop and tested it. But it wouldn’t hurt to flatter Arlen. If Gevan’s theories proved correct, Arlen might find his work in great demand.

“Good, good.” Arlen accepted the lens back and slipped it into a small velvet pouch. “And the other?”

The smaller lens could tolerate greater imperfections. But Gevan dutifully examined the disk. This one was concave, its thick rim scooping in to a beautifully thin center. If anything, it was clearer than the other. “Well worth the exorbitant prices you charge.”

“A man must stay in business.” Arlen tucked the small lens into its own pouch and accepted the coins Gevan passed him.

Now that he had his prize, Gevan was eager to be off. He watched impatiently as Arlen rummaged through his money box for the correct change. “I expect you do well enough, with all the squint-eyed old men at the University. Which is where I must be headed.”

But Arlen was in a talkative mood. “Truth to tell, I’m surprised to see you this morning. I thought you’d be down at the docks with everyone else in Ramunna, seeing the expedition off.”

Gevan bit back an angry reply. He could only dream of what he might accomplish if the Matriarch saw fit to devote a tiny fraction of the gold she’d spent on this ridiculous expedition to his research. And she would see real results, not more treasure wasted chasing a fantasy. “I’ve more important things to do than cheer on fools sailing to their deaths.”

“What? Don’t you think they’re well provisioned for their journey? It’s not that much farther than the trade route to Giroda.”

“I’m sure they are. I just think there’s nothing there for them to find.”

“But there must be. Didn’t you hear about the bizarre creatures the Yodarre expedition brought back?”

Gevan had seen them, in fact, when the preserved remains had been brought to the University. The trading vessel’s captain claimed a storm had come up while they were skirting Marvanna’s hostile waters, blowing them far into the Eastern Ocean. That was believable enough. Vessels were lost every year to the unpredictable eastern storms. But Yodarre maintained that his ship had been cast ashore on a remote island, far beyond where folk of Ravanetha had ever roamed before, save in legend.

He’d brought back the creatures as proof. True, they were unlike any animals found in Ravanetha. The turtle-like thing was at least as big as an ale cask. The bird sported brilliant green feathers trailing a full arm’s length from its tail. Debate had raged for weeks among the natural philosophers of the University as to whether they were genuine or elaborate hoaxes. They looked real to Gevan, but taxonomy wasn’t his specialty. “They might find an island or two. But the idea that there’s a lost paradise of wizards somewhere in the Eastern Sea is ridiculous. The Matriarch is misled by fools and charlatans who prey on her desperation. She should know better than to pin her hopes on fables of a power that no longer exists. If it ever did.”

Gevan cut off his tirade. He’d better be careful, or his rash words might draw the attention of the Purifiers. If his experiments bore fruit, he’d face their enmity eventually. But he needed to avoid them until he had firm evidence to show, instead of only unproven speculation.

“I wouldn’t know about that.” Arlen shifted his eyes warily toward the window, but the street outside was nearly deserted. The few passers-by hurried on without pausing. “I just think it would be quite something if they did bring back a wizard or two. Imagine, the Mother’s power, just like the ancients had!”

Gevan clenched his jaw and turned away. It infuriated him how the Matriarch’s obsession fueled the ignorance and stupidity of Ramunna’s people. Not much longer, he swore to himself. Soon he would show them the truth behind the myths.

Everything the ancient wizards had done had been accomplished, not by some mystical, vanished magic, but in accordance with the laws of nature. Even the most remarkable of their feats could be duplicated here and now, not by a special few with the Mother’s favor, but by anyone with understanding enough to discover the workings of the world and ingenuity enough to devise ways to manipulate them.

He was so close. Before the day was out, if the new lenses proved adequate, he would recreate the first of the wizards’ powers.

Arlen frowned. Gevan forced his features into a semblance of unconcern. “It would indeed be something. But I’m a historian. I dare say I’m as familiar with the writings of the ancient wizards as any scholar in Ramunna. And I’ve never seen credible evidence that wizards ever left Ravanetha, into the Eastern Sea or anywhere else. The stories that say they did are folk tales and legends, no more.”

“I’m sure you’re far wiser about such matters than I.” Arlen bobbed his head and finally handed over the change.

Gevan tucked the coins into his purse and gathered up the precious lenses. “I don’t like seeing people agitated by empty promises and false hope. New discoveries are being made every day at the University, and no one notices because they’re too busy chasing myths. If you’re a betting man, wager on the greatest wonders coming from our workshops, not the explorers’ ships.” He really must stop talking. Even Arlen might talk to the Purifiers if they questioned him forcefully enough. Gevan backed toward the door. “Good day.”

“Good day.” Arlen stepped behind his workbench and took up his grinding stones. The racks of finished spectacles lining the walls stared at Gevan with sharp, accusing glares as he exited.

The walk to his quarters at the University wasn’t long, but it was enough for Gevan to regain his composure. He took deep breaths of the last cool air in the thick shade of the palms lining the road. The full heat of summer was almost here; it would be many long months before Ramunna enjoyed such pleasant weather again.

Gevan passed beneath an arbor of brilliant orange coral vines and entered a long brick building. He climbed the steep, worn stairs to his suite of rooms on the third floor. Most of the University’s scholars lived in homes in the surrounding city, but a few like him preferred the convenience afforded by remaining close to their work. He passed through the small, neat sitting room and into his spacious, cluttered workshop.

The workbench beneath the largest window held the pieces of his last failed attempt to construct a window-glass. Gevan picked up the two nested lengths of rolled tin he’d had a metalworker make for him. They slid smoothly together and apart, just as he’d envisioned, allowing fine adjustments to the distance between the lenses. But the last set of lenses Arlen had sold him had been worthless. No matter how he’d tweaked the length of the device, the image had remained nothing more than a tantalizing blur. It had taken many hours of painstaking review to locate the error in his calculations that had caused him to specify the wrong shape for the lens.

Gevan removed the unsatisfactory lenses from the tubes and set them aside. He resisted the impulse to immediately fit the new lenses in place and try them out. If this worked, his invention would be acclaimed by historians for ages to come. Best to take the time to do it right, one step at a time, documenting everything so that nothing could later be questioned.