Chapter 1

The choppy waters of the strait made Danel slightly queasy as the ferry struggled to cross to the western shore. Three months of crossing plains, mountains, and forests had collapsed into one moment. Danel dared to lean out over the rail to catch a long look at the city of Strabo, the gateway and guardian city. His hand pinned his hat down on his head as he cataloged the warehouses on the shore, the light towers that marked the north and south points of the harbor and the two- and three-story buildings that rose behind them. He had read the historian Garbure’s description of Strabo, but to see the city with his own eyes was a moment to remember. The words became concrete.

A horde of profiteers and hawkers descended upon the docked ferry just as Garbure had described it, chaotic. Danel had already shifted his meager coin purse to a safer spot and slid the four-inch double-sided blade into the palm of his hand. When he felt a hand or finger poking, prodding or grabbing, he stabbed it. In no time, Danel had worked this way through the crush on the pier and onto the paved landing. A quick examination confirmed that all was intact and still secure. Remembering the details of Garbure’s description, he walked to the south exit from the landing and turned left. The carts and coaches were lined up and waiting for passengers as the author had described them over a hundred years ago.

As Danel approached, he listened as the drivers called out destinations. He walked a long way past thirty or forty carts until he finally heard a driver all out, “Library of Ibados.” Danel scanned the people standing to the side, looking for like-minded travelers. He caught the eye of a young man with black hair that kept falling in his face. His shoes were worn, and his face was lean. Next to him was a woman near the same age with tangled, long hair and a sack over her shoulder. He approached them, giving them his name and asked if they were seeking transport to the Library.

“Dari,” the girl said, her voice betraying her not quite mature age, “Yes, but I’m lacking coin.”

“I have the same problem,” the young man said. “I’m Fado.”

Danel cocked his head. “Maybe if we combine what few coins we have, we can wrangle a fare.”

“Not for all three,” Dari pointed out.

Danel made a grand gesture of looking up and down the street. “We are so far from the harbor, and I don’t see a lot of possible fares, much less those with plenty of coin. Our driver is far down on the list and perhaps he will be amenable. Everybody must eat.”

They counted their coins. Dari approached the driver who requested a sum far above what they had on hand. Danel burst out laughing at the number. “For such a sum, I could have four men carrying a palanquin with runners up front calling forth my name and my deeds.” The man blustered and fumed, suggesting that his ancestors knew only how to eat insects and grass. Danel suggested the hitched beast would understand better than the man in the seat. The driver cursed his mother and his father with acts of deviancy. Danel explained that he did not understand, and would the man kindly explain what acts he was implying? The man’s ears were red.

Danel laughed again, before walking down to the next cart. This driver was still laughing at Danel’s antics. He accepted their coins and the three piled into the back of the cart. The ride took almost an hour to pass through the city to the other side. As they rode Danel asked his companions, “Where are all the other candidates?”

Fado explained that most of them arrived yesterday if not earlier. Of the stragglers who arrived today, they were on the first ferries and overland coaches in the morning. “The Wise Ones say that those who arrive first have the best chance of landing a slot.” Danel announced he did not believe the story and that it sounded like a good way to gouge gullible students and their parents. The cart stopped in front of metal gates that reached three people high. One gate was open.

The plaza in front of the library was huge, which only accentuated the enormity of the Library of Ibados on the other side. Danel had to struggle to keep his mouth from dropping as they descended to the plaza and walked across the gigantic smooth blocks of stone. An entire army, complete with chariots and olliphants could stand at attention in the space and still have plenty of room to maneuver. They approached the huge arch that sheltered the great entrance doors. Hundreds of would-be students still swarmed around the entrance, yet the place looked mostly empty.

As they waited, Danel asked his two companions, “What do you want to study?”

“I’m going to be a wizard,” Fado said. “I already demonstrate the traits necessary to master the art. I also have three letters of recommendation that confirm my skills.”

“I plan to become a priestess to the goddess,” Dari said. “My learning is undeniable.”

Danel was going to ask which goddess she had in mind, but they stepped up to the people in official looking robes. He gave his name and his best subject, history. The man pinned a bright green ribbon to his coat and told him to follow the green line. When he stepped through, he found Dari and Fado both had green ribbons as well. “They welcomed us through the door,” Danel said, doing his best to hide his utter awe beneath the vaulted ceiling.

Sounds bounced around the grand foyer, rolling through the space as if they were traveling from afar. Danel felt small and insignificant, as if his ambitions and sense of self were laughable little items found around the sides of a dustbin, waiting to be swept up by the broom. Both of his companions had also lapsed into silence as they looked around with wide eyes.

He caught sight of the green line and urged his companions to follow. They passed great rooms filled with other candidates who had arrived earlier. They had shed their coats and were eating out of ceramic bowls with utensils. Danel’s stomach rumbled. Finally, they reached the room where the green ribbon stopped.

A proctor took their names before they entered, welcoming them to get some food from the carts that were stationed on one side of the room. Danel practically threw his coat and satchel on a chair and raced for the food. Taking a large bowl, he scooped deeply from the meat and broth dish, going back again to snatch the carrots and potatoes that were lurking among the meat chunks. He commandeered a large roll, more akin to a small loaf, before returning to his seat. He was fully committed to ladling his spoon to his mouth by the time his new companions rejoined him. They ate with gusto too.

When the hunger abated, Danel leaned back from the table and took a deep breath. The ceiling was high overhead, with hanging arches from which brass chandeliers with oil lamps hung on metal chains. The wainscoting was a dark wood and the plaster above was smooth and white all the way up to the ceiling. A few paintings of people with serious expressions looking out on the world were spaced out on the wall, all of them in dark blue robes.

“What’s next?” Danel asked.

“We wait, I guess,” Fado said, pushing the hair out of his eyes again. They made small talk for an hour or so, getting to know each other and from where they had come. Danel had traveled the farthest, the grasslands of the Steppes of Betloss. “I am the third son,” he explained. “I will not inherit, and neither will my sisters, although they will receive a dowery. My mother schooled me from very young, hoping I would enter the civil service of the Yu-Ang dynasty. She looked eastward and I looked westward.”