It was now the fifth night since the wedding, and he'd hardly slept. Rorelan's state had steadily worsened, while Tomas was still and unresponsive. Amber hadn't left her child's side, and Miro needed to see someone, anyone, where he could let himself be sad, rather than strong for his wife's sake.
At this late hour guards patrolled the grounds and halls, and a uniformed soldier started to question Miro, but seeing who he was, let him past with a sympathetic nod of his head. Miro wandered the libraries for hours as he searched for her.
Finally, after pacing endless rows of shelves and waking up half the Academy, Miro had searched all the libraries except one. A librarian pointed him in the direction of the Trenton Exploration Library, which apparently dealt, of all themes, with discovery and travel.
Miro saw the glow of a nightlamp before he rounded a corner and saw his sister, hunched over a desk. Ella pored over the open pages of a book, muttering under her breath and turning the pages so rapidly Miro wondered she had time to scan them.
She obviously hadn't eaten in days; her face was grey and pale, yet there was an animation in her expression Miro recognised immediately. This was the Ella who'd left the temple school at fourteen, yet been admitted to the Academy four years later after a short verbal examination, dazzling the masters in the process.
"Ho, Ella," Miro said wearily.
"Just a moment." Ella looked at Miro and frowned, before turning back to the book.
Nonplussed, Miro looked down at the book she was reading and snorted humourlessly. He could read the title from the top of the page: Toro Marossa's Explorations. Toro Marossa's adventures were famous throughout Merralya, yet he'd lived long ago and Miro could see little relevance between the explorer's well-known journal and their plight.
Miro moved to stand closer beside his sister and tried to read the page she had open. Suddenly Ella brought her face close to the page, reading every word as if committing it to memory. She then stopped reading, sighing and closing her eyes momentarily, before smiling and leaning back in her chair. She made way for Miro to see what she'd been reading.
The islands I have come to call the Ochre Isles were once occupied. I have no doubt whatsoever. Abandoned buildings were scattered throughout all three islands, in particular the largest, the one I named Valetta in honour of one who was once dear to me.
We spent most of our time on Valetta. The men thought we were searching for treasure but it was signs of those who were here before I was most interested in.
These people abandoned the isles many years ago yet I knew I had found a new people for the buildings were all of an exotic design. We found several items of interest including a large ocean-going vessel, much larger than our caravels, larger even than a Buchalanti dreadnought. This foreign ship was in a terrible state of repair but fascinating nonetheless. Bronze tubes lined the sides, their purpose unknown, while the ingenuity of its construction was far beyond anything I'd seen.
We abandoned our exploration of the vessel when one of my men discovered some barrels marked with the symbol of a flame. He poured out a strange black powder, ran it between his fingers, and then took quite ill. After vomiting for some time, white spots appeared on his fingernails.
We took him off the ship, but before we left I noticed some of the barrels bore a second symbol beside the flame. The universal language of symbols told me we were being warned the contents of the barrel were poisonous. I instructed my men to stay away from the barrels.
We resumed our explorations elsewhere, first, of course, taking the sailor to the ship's surgeon. The man lingered for a week before recovering.
My first voyage to find what lies across the Great Western Ocean has been a success, yet has opened up more questions than answers. Who were those who built these structures? Why did they abandon these islands? Where did they go? What is this strange black powder? I'm resolved to return to these islands, and to explore farther still…
"I just found it now," Ella said. "I'm sorry it wasn't sooner. I read this book when I was younger, but still, if it wasn't for Layla…"
Miro shook his head. How long had Ella searched to find this one account? "Don't be sorry. Lord of the Sky, I can't believe…"
Ella rubbed her eyes. "I can promise you this chemical explosive isn't mentioned anywhere else in the Academy, and this explains why. We can be certain now that some do recover, and we also know something about where this poison is from. The islands were abandoned when Toro Marossa found them, but that doesn't mean they still are. The creators are out there somewhere — the poison proves it — and they're not in the lands of the Empire."
"And the closest land to these Ochre Isles…"
"…is Altura," Ella finished.
"Why would these people show themselves after being silent for so long?" Miro asked. "And why would it be with an attack against the Empire?"
"I don't know," Ella said.
"Please, come on, you need some proper sleep."
"Don't worry about me," Ella said. "How are you holding up? I can't imagine how hard it must be."