Theft of Swords (The Riyria Revelations #1-2)

“I like it,” Hadrian agreed.

“Oh, good lord,” Royce muttered, shaking his head as he trotted forward again.

As they rode farther east, the country estates became farms, rosebushes became hedges, and fences that divided fields gave way to mere tree lines. Still Thrace pointed out curiosities, like the unimagined luxury of covered bridges and the ornately decorated carriages that still occasionally thundered by.

The road climbed higher and soon they lost the shade as the land opened up into vast fallow fields of goldenrod, milkweed, and wild salifan. Flies dogged them in the heat and the drone of cicadas whined. Thrace at last grew quiet and laid her head against Hadrian’s back. He became concerned she might fall asleep and topple off, but occasionally she would stir to look about or swat at a fly.

Higher and higher they climbed until they reached the top of Amber Heights. The prominent highland stood out as a bald spot of short grass and bare rock. Part of a long ridge that ran along the eastern edge of Warric, it served as the border between the kingdom of Warric and the kingdom of Alburn. Alburn was the third most powerful and prosperous kingdom in Avryn, after Warric and Melengar. Most of its lands were deeply forested and its coast was often subjected to attacks by the Ba Ran Ghazel, who made lightning assaults, abducting the unfortunate and burning what they could not carry. Its ruler, King Armand, had only recently gained the throne, after the unexpected death of the old king. While King Reinhold had been a Royalist, Hadrian had the impression the new king was an Imperialist sympathizer, if not an open supporter, which was unfortunate for Melengar, whose list of allies seemed to grow shorter each day.

Amber Heights was a curiosity even to the local residents due to the standing stones, the massive blue-gray rocks carved into uniquely fluid shapes. They appeared almost organic in their rounded curves, like a series of writhing serpents burrowing in and out of the hilltop. Hadrian did not have the slightest idea what purpose the stones might have originally served. He doubted anyone did. Remnants of campfires were scattered around the stones, etched with messages of true love or the occasional slogan: “Maribor Is God!” “Nationalists Are Barmy,” “The Heir Is Dead,” and even “Gray Mouse Tavern—it’s all downhill from here.” Reaching the crest, they could all see the city of Colnora spread out behind them, while to the northeast lay the endless miles of dense and untamed woodland where the kingdoms of Alburn and Dunmore blurred together. To Hadrian the forest appeared as an ocean of unbroken green—miles and miles of rugged wilderness, on the other side of which lay a tiny village called Dahlgren.

Because the wind on the hilltop was cool and strong enough to drive off the flies, it made a perfect place to break for a midday meal. They ate salted pork, hard dark bread, onions, and pickles. It was the kind of meal Hadrian would loathe to eat in a town, but it seemed somehow wonderful on the road, where his appetite was greater and options were fewer. He watched Thrace sitting on the grass, nibbling on a pickle, being careful not to stain her new dress. She gazed off with a faraway look, inhaling the air in deep appreciative breaths.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

She smiled at him a bit self-consciously and he thought he noticed a sadness about her. “I was just thinking how wonderful it is here. How nice it would be to live on one of those farms we passed. We wouldn’t need anything grand, not even a house—my father can build a house all by himself and he can turn any soil. There’s nothing he can’t do once he sets his mind to it, and once he sets his mind, there’s no changing it.”

“Sounds like a great guy.”

“Oh, he is. He’s very strong, very determined.”

“I’m surprised he would allow you to set off alone across the country like you did.”

Thrace smiled.

“You didn’t walk all the way, did you?”

“Oh no, I got a ride with a peddler and his wife who stopped in Dahlgren. They refused to spend a second night and let me ride in the back of their wagon.”

“Have you done much traveling before?”

“No. I was born in Glamrendor, the capital of Dunmore. My family worked a tenant farm for His Lordship there. We moved to Dahlgren when I was about nine, so I’ve never been out of Dunmore until now. I can’t even say I remember all that much of Glamrendor. I do recall it was dirty, though. All the buildings were made of wood, and the roads very muddy—at least that’s how I remember it.”

“Still that way,” Royce mentioned.

“I can’t believe you had the courage to just go off like that,” Hadrian said, shaking his head. “It must have been a shock leaving Dahlgren and a few days later finding yourself in the largest city in the world.”

“Oh, it was,” she replied, using her pinky finger to draw away a number of hairs that had blown into her mouth. “I felt foolish when I realized just how hard it was going to be to find you. I expected it would be like back home, where I would be able to walk up to anyone and they would know who you were. There are a lot more people in Colnora than I expected. To be honest, there’s a lot more of everything. I looked and looked and I thought I would never find you.”

“I expect your father will be worried.”

“No he won’t,” she said.

“But if—”

“What are these things?” she asked, pointing at the standing stones with her pickle. “These blue stones. They’re so odd.”

“No one knows,” Royce replied.

“Were they made by elves?” she asked.

Royce cocked his head and stared at her. “How did you know that?”

“They look a bit like the tower near my village—the one I need you to open. Same kind of stone—at least, I think so. The tower looks bluish too, but it might be because of the distance—ever notice how things get blue in the distance? I suppose if we could actually get near it, we might find it was just a common gray, you know?”

“Why can’t you get near it?” Hadrian asked.

“Because it’s in the middle of the river.”

“Can’t you swim?”

“You would have to be a real strong swimmer. The tower is built on a rock that hangs over a waterfall. Beautiful falls—really high, you know? Lots of water going over. On sunny days, you can see rainbows in the mist. Of course, it’s very dangerous. At least five people have died—only two are for sure, the other three are just guesses, because—” She paused when she saw the looks on their faces. “Is something wrong?”

“You might have said something earlier,” Royce replied.