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“And an ancient tower full of answers, we hope.” They had reached the city after toiling up the rise. As the street leveled out, Mari’s face brightened when she caught sight of a casually elegant storefront. “Aha! Shah Jewelers of Altis. Not too fancy and not too cheap. Just what we need.”

“Should we take time for this?” Alain asked. “After the incident on the quay—”

“Alain,” Mari whispered, her voice intense, “I am running for my life and liable to be killed at any time. I’m expected to save all of Dematr from your chaos storm and overthrow the Great Guilds. I don’t think it’s too much to ask if I take a very little time to get the rings that will show how proud we are to be each other’s partner in life.”

He considered possible responses before replying. “That is wise.”

Mari stared at him, then muffled a laugh. She pulled out some coins and held them up before Alain. “I hadn’t mentioned this before, but do you remember that bag of food my mother gave us?”

“I recall there were some cookies within it which I never saw,” he said.

“Oh, yeah, the cookies. There weren’t very many of them.” She made a pleading gesture begging forgiveness. “It had been so long since I’d had my mother’s cookies.”

“Next time I would like some.”

“You will. I promise. Anyway, Mother stuck a fair amount of money in with the food she gave us. I didn’t realize it until we were out at sea, of course, or I’d have given it back. She knew that, which is why she hid it in the bottom. I’ll pay her back someday, but since we’re stuck with it, I can’t think of a better use for some of it than paying for our rings, can you?”

“I am sure that would bring your parents joy,” Alain agreed. He wondered if Eirene had gotten around to telling Mari’s father that Mari intended to marry a Mage. That news might not have brought all that much joy.

A short time later, Alain made a fist of his left hand and contemplated the bright gold band on the third finger. He felt somehow very different. It seemed such a small thing to be able to make such a big change in his own world.

Mari came beside him and spread her own hand next to his so their rings lay side-by-side. “Like us,” she whispered. “Next to each other. Isn’t this great? This makes it official.”

“I thought the ceremony at Caer Lyn made the marriage official,” Alain said.

“Well, yes, it did, but the rings make it officially official,” Mari explained, hoisting her pack onto her back once more.

“Officially official?” Alain asked.

“Yes. Now let’s find that tower.”

Unfortunately, finding the way to the tower proved frustrating. Mari insisted on going first to a large and neatly laid out map store, where young clerks tossed the question of the tower among themselves, then finally asked a middle-aged supervisor who shook his head. “Our maps show everything that’s there. If it’s not on the map, it’s not there,” he pronounced confidently, pointing to the same motto engraved over the doorway.

Asking passing citizens of Altis was also fruitless. “A big tower? Somewhere in the interior? Never heard of it. There aren’t even any roads into the interior. Nothing’s there.”

Some members of the city guard they asked also had no idea what they meant. “If a tower like that could be found on the island, we’d know about it.”

The clerks at the city records hall expressed total confidence that no such tower could really be on the island. “It’s not on the property tax rolls, so it can’t exist.”

Alain finally suggested that they try another mapmaker. “Not one who makes maps for today only. If this tower is a thing of history, then those who map history might know of it.”

Footsore by this time, and with the day well along, Mari agreed. She did seem skeptical of the place Alain selected, though, a small mapmaker’s establishment which appeared to be as ancient as the city, with maps and documents piled up inside the dusty windows. To Alain, this was just the place for finding memory, but Mari shook her head. “How about we find some place where things are filed and neat and clean?”

“We have tried one such place. I believe that the map which we seek will not be found in a drawer,” Alain replied.

Mari made a defeated gesture and waved him inside.

“The old tower?” The mapmaker’s shop which Alain had chosen proved to be a joint venture between an elderly man and his wife, both of whom had obviously been at their trade for a long time. The old man nodded in instant recognition. “I haven’t been asked about that since…”

“The year of the current Emperor’s inauguration,” his wife finished.

“Yes! But that wasn’t someone asking how to get there…”

“It was someone who had seen it in the distance and wondered what it was,” his wife completed the sentence.

“We couldn’t tell him that…” the man confessed.

“But we could tell where he had seen it,” his wife added.

Mari hid a smile behind her hand, glancing at Alain. “Can you tell us how to get to it?”

The old couple dug through large, shallow drawers and piles of maps, searching for the drawing they needed, before eventually surfacing with a map of a part of the island which was well inland. “This is the best map…” the man assured Mari.

“For anyone seeking the tower,” his wife agreed.

“The tower is…”

“There,” his wife noted, using her finger to point out a spot.

The man inked a quill and made a small notation. “Yes, there.”

Alain studied the map, trying to understand what it showed. “What do all these lines around the tower mean?”

“Mountains, lad! Very rough terrain there. You see?” The man traced peaks with his fingers.

“The tower sits in a sort of bowl-shaped valley,” his wife said.

“Not well mapped, that area,” the husband added.

“No reason for it,” his wife agreed.

“That’s why so few know of the tower…”

“Because the heights around block any view of it.”

Mari looked at the map as well. “No one climbs these heights?”

“Why would they?” the man said.

“There’s nothing there,” his wife added.

“Except the tower…”

“And the mountains.”

Mari held out a coin for the map. “I don’t suppose you have any idea whether or not anyone still lives in the tower?”

The old couple exchanged surprised looks. “No…” the husband said.

“No idea at all,” the wife conceded. “Why are you interested in it?”

“I like old things,” Mari answered with another smile.

“Except when it comes to men, eh?” the wife replied, pointing to the obviously new rings on Mari’s and Alain’s fingers. “My man is old and comfortable now, but he was as raw and young as this one, once.”

“You were pretty raw and young yourself in those days,” her husband noted. “But mainly pretty. Still are.”

“Men take a while to train,” his wife confided to Mari, “but I found it worth the effort.” She handed Mari back the coin. “Take the map as your promise gift from us. We’ll not have it otherwise.”

“I couldn’t—” Mari started to protest.

“It’ll make us happy, girl,” the woman suggested with a smile.

“You’d not deny us some happiness?” her husband asked.

“Would you?” his wife finished.

“No,” Mari said in a very soft voice. “I would not. Thank you. Thank you very much.”

Once outside the mapmakers’ shop, Mari stared upward, toward the peaks rising inland. “Alain, those two were common folk. The sort of people you and I were taught by our Guilds to hold in contempt.”