"Can any read this?"
????? ?????
Delon leaned over and peered at the lettering, then said, "I can't read it, but it looks like Hurnian characters to me… or Sarainese."
In that moment the door to the cabin slid open and Egil stuck his head in. "Is something amiss?" Delon turned and smiled. "No, no, Egil. Ferret has remembered something. Come look at this. -No wait. We'll bring it adeck so that all can see."
Arin looked up from the sketch and asked Ferret, "Dost thou know of a doorway of this likeness?"
"Only on Nom's card."
Ann turned to the others. "Do any of ye know aught of such?"
Each peered closely at the drawing, each shrugging No.
Now Arin gazed at Delon. "Thou sayest these letters are Hurnian?"
"Or Sarainese. They're much alike, but I am no linguist… or calligrapher, for that matter. It's just that I've seen writing like this in my travels."
"And thou hast seen no such door?"
Delon shook his head. "I've never been in Sarain, and I saw no such door in Hurn. But it is a wide land and I was only in the city of Chara, along the coast. I was stranded there for a couple of months three years back. I'd not care to go there again, for not only does a particular lonely woman seek my heart, so does her angry husband."
"Where is this land?" asked Aiko.
"East. On the Avagon. Past the Islands of Stone," Delon replied.
"And Sarain?"
"South of there, I think."
Alos cleared his throat. "Aye, Sarain is south of Hurn, and full of waning tribes fighting over water and land and theology, or so my old captain used to say."
They fell silent for a moment, and finally Delon said, "Listen, whether it is in Hurn or Sarain, what more promising place than in something called the Temple of the Labyrinth are we likely to find a cursed keeper of faith in a maze, eh?"
"Yes," said Aiko, "but if these lands of Hurn and Sarain are wide, we may be a long while searching."
Egil nodded, then said, "If we could only read the inscription, perhaps it would let us at least narrow our choices down from two to one."
Ann turned again to Ferai. "Is there aught else thou knowest of this place, or even of Nom's card?"
Ferret closed her eyes, trying to remember. At last, without opening her eyes, she said, "The stone is red."
Arin looked at Delon. "Does either Hum or Sarain have red stone?"
"I don't know about Sarain, but it seems to me that the coastal areas of Hum were mostly yellow and tan and grey, though the stone might be red inland."
They turned to Alos. He shrugged.
Arin glanced at each of them. "Is there aught else any would add?"
"Just that we should decide," said Egil.
Arin lowered her head for a moment, considering. Then she looked up and said, "This then is what I propose: that first we go to Sarain and find a city along the coast. There we shall seek out one who can read and ask him to decipher this. If it is not Sarainese, then we shall fare to Hum and do the same. Then we shall choose our course from there."
Again her gaze swept across them all. "Agreed?"
One by one they nodded, and then Egil said, "Not that I differ, my love, but what made you pick Sarain?"
"What Alos said, chier."
"Me?" barked Alos, surprised.
"Aye. Thou and Ferai. Where there is theology, oft there are temples. And thou didst say the Sarainese tribes fight over theology, among other things, and where there is religious warfare, a sect will at times conceal itself. And remember what Ferai didst say: if the card is dealt to thee it indicates a dangerous and confusing passage in thy life, but that if thou canst but reach the door, thou wilt then reach safety. Mayhap the dangerous and confusing passage is one through a maze, and given its name, mayhap the temple itself is concealed in a labyrinth."
Ferret took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Delon turned to her. "What is it, luv?"
She looked at him and shook her head. "I can't shake the feeling that we will actually be living inside of Old Nom's card."
Delon raised an eyebrow. "And…?"
"And, Delon, I can't help but wonder whether the card is upright or inverted."
CHAPTER 49
Alos swung the Brise southeastward, quartering the prevailing winds off the starboard stern, saying, "Sarain: it's across the Avagon, 'tween Chabba and Hum. Just keep her headed southeasterly and we'll strike land sooner or later." And then he headed back to bed, under his breath grumbling, "The next bedamned seaport we come to, someone needs to get some bedamned charts so that someone can properly navigate and reckon, for who knows how far the bedamned coast of Sarain is and who knows where along the bedamned shores we'll make landfall and…"
The next days saw the ship heading southeasterly, at times running before a spanking breeze, at other times drifting slowly, nearly becalmed. And though the air was at times capricious, for the most part the weather held fair, but for a running three days of rain.
Yet in spite of the wind or its lack, in spite of the rain or not, now and again throughout the day Delon would sing to Ferai, and she would listen raptly, while in the stern Alos would smile and tap out a rhythmic beat.
And all along the course, especially at the change of shifts, in the twilight Arin and the others continued to debate the merits of following after a fortune-teller's card, debating as well what they might find at journey's end:
"Perhaps the labyrinth is inside the temple," suggested Egil, "rather than without. Perhaps that's where the confusing journey Old Nom spoke of is, perhaps that's where it both begins and ends."
Aiko blew out a long puff of air, and at a cocked eyebrow from Arin, the Ryodoan said, "Perhaps the confusing maze is in the very religion itself, and one must escape it altogether to be free."
"You mean leave the temple?" asked Ferret.
Aiko shook her head. "No, Ferai. I mean leave the religion itself behind."
"Oh."
They drifted slowly long moments more, the wind but a waft of air, the ship nearly in irons. Finally Ferret said, "I'm not a very religious person. It seems rather foolish to me."
"Huah," grunted Delon. "You do not believe in Adon or Elwydd at all?"
"Or Garlon?" added Alos.
"Oh, I suppose I do," Ferret replied, "if only to call upon them in oaths now and then. It's just that in my life they seem to hold no sway." She turned to Arin. "What about you, Dara? Do you worship Adon or Elwydd? Pray to them? Make offerings? Do you think that following a particular religion, that believing in a god or gods makes you a better person?"
Arin smiled. "Nay, Ferai, I do not. Adon Himself says that deeds, not faith, mark the goodness of a person."
"You've spoken to Adon?" asked Delon. "Seen Him?"
"Nay, I have not," replied Arin. "But there are those who indeed have."
Delon blew out a breath. "Adon. The God Himself."
Arin shook her head. "He does not claim to be so. He says that the true gods are far above Himself, Elwydd, Gyphon, Garlon, and the others."
"Even the gods are ruled by the Fates," intoned Egil. "Or so my people say."
Ferret turned to Egil. "Then those above Adon and the others, those are the Fates?"
Egil turned up the palms of his hands. "You'll have to ask someone other than me, lass, for I don't know."
They drifted onward, and then Delon said, "What do you suppose the cursed keeper of faith in the maze thinks of religion and gods? And why do you think he's cursed?"
Some seventeen days after they had fled the city of Pendwyr, they sighted a coast ahead. The setting sun lent an orange cast to the land, but along the stretch the stone itself was dun colored, and not the red expected.