A Secret Atlas (10 page)

trained and I guided you on the correct path. ‘The journey is of the chosen forks, not the

untraveled roads.’ ”

And there are roads he should not travel.
Reaching the state of
jaedunto
did have its benefits, both in how the magic manifested and the longevity it supplied. It could, however,

exact a fearful price because it tended to distill the
jaecai
’s personality. If one were kind, considerate, and peaceful, this would be accentuated.
If, on the other hand, he is arrogant
and desirous of fame, it will fill him with bitterness.

Ciras tossed the wooden sword on the porch with a clatter. “I require a master, Eron

of
serrian
Jatan. I have beaten your best. Will you have me?”

Moraven looked at Phoyn. “You would have me do this in addition to the charge you have

already given me?”

The old man shrugged. “Having a companion can hardly make the first task more difficult

or more dangerous.”

“You don’t expect me to find that prospect comforting, do you?”

“No, I hope you take no comfort in it at all.” The old man raised his cup of
wyrlu
. “The discomfort you feel now will be what we all feel if you fail at either task. Peace of the

Festival to you, Moraven Tolo, and may the gods be merciful in shaping your future.”

2nd day, Harvest Festival, Year of the Dog

9th Year of Imperial Prince Cyron’s Court

162nd Year of the Komyr Dynasty

736th year since the Cataclysm

Anturasikun, Moriande

Nalenyr

Keles ignored the growled “Go away,” and entered his brother’s chamber. Jorim shot him

an angry glare but, reflected in the mirror, it lost some of its power. The younger Anturasi

struggled with tying the gold silk tie, but it was more than that which fed his foul mood.

Keles knew that, but also knew he had to settle some issues with his brother or the party

that evening would be even more of a disaster than it already promised to be.

“Let me help you with that.”

“I can do it myself.”

“Yes, but not before snow flies, which means you’ll be late for the party.”

Jorim snarled. “I don’t want to go anyway.”

Keles rested his hands on his brother’s shoulders and slowly turned him around. “If you

don’t go, you will disappoint Nirati and our mother. Both have worked hard to fashion the

compromise that has let you keep your beard and your braids. I know you don’t mind

upsetting our grandfather, but their feelings must be respected.”

“Certainly. Respect their feelings, but not mine.” Jorim let his hands fall from the golden

length of cloth, but they slowly balled into fists. “Why is it always everyone else’s feelings

that matter and not mine?”

Keles took the tie in hand and snapped it against the high, starched collar of his brother’s

shirt. “By that you mean to ask why I don’t respect your feelings. I’m sorry you felt

betrayed.”

“No, you’re not. You knew it would hurt.”

“Fair enough, but I also knew I had to sting you to make you stop. I betrayed you, yes, but

I stopped you from betraying yourself.”

Jorim frowned. “Read that from my mind, did you?”

“Don’t joke. I can only touch your mind when we are both concentrating, reaching out, and

you know that. And, unlike Grandfather, I don’t have the will to work past what you want to

share. Nor do I have the desire. I do respect your feelings that much, and respect
you
that much.”

“You respect me, do you?”

Keles sighed slowly. Once they had left their grandfather, Jorim had broken away from

him. “I know I betrayed you, but this runs deeper than that. What is going on?”

Jorim’s hands came up, batting his brother’s hands away, then he half turned toward the

mirror. “You
mocked
me in front of the old man.”

“I did no such thing.”

“No, of course not, from your point of view.” Jorim crossed the small chamber and flopped

down in a chair that almost tipped over backward. “Keles the wise and thoughtful.

Grandfather will give
me
the
Stormwolf
because
you
suggested it, not because I earned it—even though I did.”

“So? You’re getting what you want.”

“You don’t understand.” Jorim pounded a fist against the chair’s arm. “Why don’t you listen

to me? Do I know I would be better on the
Stormwolf
? Of course I would. I speak twice the languages you do, and I pick them up very easily. I have a catalog of animals I’ve seen,

and I’m very good at drawing them in case we can’t bring back specimens. I know

your
bhotcai
and I’ve worked with some of the crew before. I’m perfect for that trip and I
should
have it, but I wanted Grandfather to give it to me because
I
made a case for it, not you.”

Keles pressed fingertips to his temples. “That makes no sense, Jorim. You’ll get it. What

matter if I ask?”

“Haven’t you listened?”

“Yes. Have you?” Keles nodded emphatically, then brought his hands down and open.

“There is something else going on here. Are you afraid that Grandfather will keep you here

and break you the way he has Uncle Ulan? Is that it?”

Jorim shifted his shoulders uneasily. “No, I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks for sharing.”

“Jorim, you know he couldn’t do that. You’re too strong for him to break.”

“You think so? Really?”

Keles nodded. “Really. He’d try, but you would defy him. It would be all Nine Hells rolled

into one for the both of you.”

“Heh.” Jorim’s expression brightened for a moment, then soured again.

“Then if that’s not it, Jorim, what are you afraid of?”

Jorim scowled, then hunched forward with his elbows on his knees. The silk of his

overshirt and trousers rustled as he moved. “I’m afraid that if Qiro sends you, you’ll be lost

like our father.”

“What?”

Jorim looked up, his face tightening as his eyes grew wet. “I was trying to save your life by

taking that trip for myself.”

Keles shook his head. “You can’t believe our grandfather would send me off to die. You

can’t believe he did that to our father.”

“I can and do, Keles.”

“You weren’t old enough to remember . . .”

“Neither were you. I was two years old; you were five. I don’t remember our father. You

and Nirati do, and she says you’re his spitting image. Others have told me that you’re very

like him except in one way. All right, maybe two ways. First, you don’t fight with the old

man, at least you didn’t used to.”

Keles sighed. “I’ve stood up to him before.”

“Sure you have. You’ve told him a map you’d drawn wasn’t good enough.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Telling him you were wrong before he tells you isn’t standing up to him, Keles.” Jorim

shook his head. “You’re more talented than our father was. Ryn
thought
he was Qiro’s

equal, and maybe he was. But you’re better. You can surpass Qiro. And Grandfather can’t

have that, so he’s going to try to kill you.”

“That makes no sense.” Keles raked fingers back through his dark hair. He wanted to

deny that his grandfather could be that cold-blooded, but the way he treated Ulan showed

how hard-hearted the old man could be.
Did he kill our father? Will it be “like father, like
son”?

“It makes sense, Keles. You’re the best able to replace him and keep the family business

going. If you surpass him, he could be forgotten.”

“That’s not possible.”

“No? Prince Araylis should have been our leader, but now his younger brother occupies

the throne. How many people remember him, or their father, Prince Jogisko? In nine years

of prosperity, Cyron has begun to eclipse them. It will happen to Qiro, and he fears it.”

“You’re forgetting one thing, Jorim.” Keles lowered his voice. “What if Qiro reaches the

state of
jaedunto
?”

“Not possible.”

“But might he not be there already? Look at him. Ulan is younger than he is and looks

twice as old. Yes, we are all True Bloods, so we live longer than other Men, but we do

age. He hasn’t.”

Jorim shook his head adamantly. “
Jaedunto
is possible in many things, but cartography? It is a thing of the physical skills, not scribbling on paper. Qiro is just well preserved. Uncle

Ulan looks as he does because he’s served under Grandfather. No, the old man will not

know magic immortality. He’ll live for a while longer because they want him in neither the

Heavens nor the Hells, but he will die and you will be greater than he.”

“That is clearly not what he assumes, on either count. He certainly
thinks
he is that good at what he does.”

“It’s another of his delusions.”

Jorim ignored the comment. “I think he assumes he has another eighty-one years in him,

perhaps longer.”

“Let him assume what he wants. He’s still going to die. It’s not as if he’s a Viruk.”

Jorim snorted. “By disposition he is.”

Even Keles had to laugh at that. “I’ll not argue. But, that aside, somewhere deep down he

knows he’s mortal. If you or I can be as good as he is, our ability to work expands all he

can do, and he has to see that. If Nirati had talent, then . . .”

“If Nirati had talent, he’d destroy her.”

Keles blinked. “How can you say that? She is his favorite. You or I would have to argue to

get you on the
Stormwolf
. If she suggested it in a whisper, you’d be on board so fast you’d not be able to catch your breath.”

Jorim slowly stood. “I can say it, brother, because she does not threaten him. She has no

talent for surveys and mapmaking, so he forgives and indulges her. Thank the stars that

she has our mother’s sense, else she’d be spoiled and worthless. Rather like Majiata.”

“Don’t try to deflect me.” Keles approached his brother and took the tie in hand again.

“Tonight Grandfather will announce our missions.”

“To his glorification . . . Hey, not so tight.”

“Sorry.” Keles eased the knot ever so slightly. “He will announce that you are going off on

the
Stormwolf
. . .”

“You
know
this, or you’re speculating?” Jorim half closed his eyes. “You had Nirati talk to him, didn’t you?”

Keles smiled. “She thought she owed you a favor. She’d done me one in driving Majiata

off.”

“What did she say he would have you doing?”

“Nothing.” Keles shook his head, finished the knot and patted his brother on the chest.

“When she asked for a hint, he became coy and refused to tell her.”

“He’ll probably keep you here and find ways to make you miserable.”

“Please tell me you have not been reading his mind.”

“As you said, that requires cooperation, and he and I are definitely not cooperating.” Jorim

turned and faced the mirror. He made a couple of minor adjustments to his brother’s

handiwork, then smiled. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Yes, but you know that’s not true about the
Stormwolf
.”

Jorim frowned. “How do you plot that course?”

“It’s simple. The work is important, and the dual clock is a key component. I would be a bit

more diligent in taking measurements and doing the calculations than you, but you have

one very special qualification that I do not. What would you do if the clocks stopped

working?”

The younger man closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Well, I had assumed that

I’d run a water clock occasionally just to see if the clocks were keeping good time. I’d

maintain speed and direction logs and have the ship backtrack so I’d have data in both

directions to account for current, then I’d look for any
gyanridin
who could help me fix them.”

Keles smiled. “You see, you’ve already thought about what you would do. I wouldn’t have

the first clue. My skills run to calculations and making maps. I’m not as flexible as you.

And I’ll tell you one other thing. I know why you and Grandfather so often butt heads like

those spiral-horn sheep you saw in Tejanmorek.”

“Oh yes? Why?”

“You suggested that Grandfather fears me because I remind him of our father.”

“I’m not the only one who has said that.”

Keles took his brother by the shoulders and turned him around again. “You and he fight so

much because you remind him of himself.”

“What? You’re insane.”

“No, I’m not. You know the stories of him at your age. He traveled, he did surveys, and he

brought things back to the Prince’s father much as you do.” Keles smiled slowly. “He just

never went as far, saw as much, or brought back anywhere near what you have. In fact,

he only made one long journey off to the northwest and it was a failure. Then his father

died and Grandfather was brought into this gilded cage. The freedom he’d known was

gone.”

Jorim took a half step back. “And you’re looking at a life of being trapped here, too, aren’t

you? The
Stormwolf
would have been your greatest adventure, your great escape.”

“Perhaps. It could have been my greatest disaster, too. In some ways that would have

been better.” Keles shook his head. “After a nightmare expedition, Anturasikun would look

very inviting.”

“But don’t you hate the idea of having to live the rest of your life here, trapped? Won’t that

kill you?”

Keles shook his head. “It won’t kill me, Jorim.”
But it
would
kill you, little brother.

Jorim frowned heavily. “You’ll be as good as dead. You’ll be the person who creates the