tense against his back.
―That room has ten thousand maps in it,‖ he said softly. ―There are even vaults under the
floor with maps stuffed into cabinets. I would swear that no-one has ever, ever, investigated them all.‖
Sigholt felt empty and spiritless without a member of the SunSoar family in residence.
There were still many people who lived there, and thousands more in Lakesview a little further
about the Lake, but the silvery-grey stones of the Keep seemed duller, as if in mourning.
All present were nervous, and WingRidge and SpikeFeather had no doubts why. The
Demons were on their way, and would be only days distant.
―Can we not do something to help the people here?‖ SpikeFeather said as they crossed
the bridge into Sigholt‘s courtyard. ―Once the Demons arrive…‖
―Lakesview perhaps,‖ WingRidge said, impatient to get to the map room.
―Too close,‖ SpikeFeather said. They had entered the Keep and were now climbing the
steps of the great staircase three at a time. He wished there was more overhead space so they
could fly. ―Perhaps the Urqhart Hills—‖
―And perhaps Sanctuary, if we find a clue here,‖ WingRidge said, flinging open the door
of the map room.
They both came to a halt just inside, looking at the room as if for the first time.
Completely circular, the room had windows opening on to all aspects of the Lake and its
environs. Between the windows were deep map cases filled with maps both rolled up and laid
flat. There was a brazier to one side, filled with wood, but currently unlit, and the very centre of
the room was occupied by a table and several chairs.
It looked purposeless without either Axis or Caelum here, pacing back and forth worrying
out a problem.
―You said there were vaults?‖ SpikeFeather said quietly.
―Yes.‖ WingRidge led the way into the room and then turned to speak quietly to the
half-dozen men and women of the Lake Guard who had accompanied them, setting them to
searching through the map cases about the walls.
Once they were at work, WingRidge motioned SpikeFeather to the western window.
Outside, the Lake ruffled gently, hedged about with its blue mists, but WingRidge ignored the
view and squatted down by the floor.
―Few people know about the vaults,‖ he said. He slid his finger into a cunningly hidden
ring and lifted a trapdoor.
―How do you know about them?‖ SpikeFeather asked, craning his neck to look into the
square of darkness.
―I found them,‖ WingRidge said, and looked up, grinning. ―At least Caelum and I did. I
was about twenty, and Caelum ten. Axis and Azhure often set me to be Caelum‘s companion, to
keep an eye on him. One day we were working at strengthening our hearts by running up and
down the grand staircase, counting each step as we did, when Caelum realised that there were
more steps between the floor the map room is on and the one below it than between any other
level in Spiredore—and yet the chambers on each floor are no higher. We realised there must be
a space below the floor of the map room. So, while Axis and Azhure were still out riding the hills, we investigated the floor of this room. I was the lucky one to find the hidden catch.‖
WingRidge‘s grin widened. ―Caelum was disgusted that I‘d found it and not he.
Whatever, we set to investigating.‖ He took a lamp that one of his Guard‘s handed him, and
stepped down onto a narrow wooden ladder. ―We thought to find treasures and secrets, but only
found yet more maps.‖
He stepped swiftly down the ladder, his voice now muffled. ―Who knows? Perhaps there
are secrets and treasures down here yet.‖
SpikeFeather also took the lamp proffered him, and climbed down after WingRidge. He
found himself in a room the same size as the map room above, but without any of the windows,
and with a low ceiling only a handspan above his head.
Chests, bookcases and crates crammed floor and wall spaces, and there was barely room
enough to move between them.
―Where are we going to start?‖ SpikeFeather whispered.
―You take that side, I this one,‖ WingRidge said, and bent down to the box he‘d just
opened.
Sighing, SpikeFeather set to his task.
They searched for hours. All through that day, through the night, and into the next
morning. As soon as the search of the map room itself had proved useless, the members of the
Lake Guard went below to help WingRidge and SpikeFeather.
The space became awash with curses, bruised wings, and ancient dust as elbows jostled
and feet tripped over upended cases and piles of discarded maps.
There were maps of the road systems of Tencendor, maps of the ancient castles that had
once dotted the countryside, maps of cattle trails, starling nesting sites and the pattern of gem
mines in Ichtar. There were maps of population densities in a Tencendor of two thousand years
ago, maps showing the location of lace factories, and maps of the shadows the stars threw over
the land during full moon. There were even maps of the gloam mines in far away Escator.
But no maps of the waterways, and no maps with thick, black arrows helpfully pointing
to ―Sanctuary‖.
Finally, towards noon, they crawled out of the space into the map room, brushing dust off
their clothes and wings and out of their hair.
SpikeFeather sneezed and, tired out, sank down into one of the chairs at the table. He
pushed a pile of maps to one side to make room for his elbow and leaned his head in his hand.
―Nothing,‖ he said, his voice emotionless.
WingRidge took the chair next to him. ―Perhaps we will think of something after we have
slept,‖ he said.
―Perhaps,‖ SpikeFeather replied.
For a while both birdmen sat in silence, too tired to speak, too tired to contemplate the
implications of their failure. The members of the Lake Guard who had helped them had either
left, or had sunk down to sit against walls, their eyes closed, their skin ashen with exhaustion.
SpikeFeather finally stirred. ―At the very least we should think about what to do to
protect the people here against the Demons.‖
WingRidge grimaced. ―Yes. I suppose you‘re right. I‘ll set the guard to shifting them into
the Urqhart Hills…perhaps the mines will shelter them until the Demons have gone.‖
―How are you going to tell Drago you couldn‘t find Sanctuary?‖
WingRidge laughed humourlessly. ―What do you mean, how am I going to tell Drago?‖
He sighed and sat up straight, shuffling maps haphazardly across the table. There were
several that they‘d brought up from the vaults to study.
―Look at this ancient network of castles around Tencendor,‖ he said idly. ―It is a shame
most of these are no longer here. They might have proved useful.‖
SpikeFeather rested his eyes on the map. He was too tired to think. Maybe WingRidge
was right. Maybe they would think of something after they‘d slept a few hours.
Then his whole body jerked. ―WingRidge!‖
―What?‖
SpikeFeather‘s eyes were fixed on the map of the ancient castle systems in front of them.
―Gods, WingRidge—why didn‘t we see that!‖
― What? ‖
About the room, birdmen and women were stirring from their lethargy, their eyes
brightening.
―Look!‖ SpikeFeather jabbed his finger at Fernbrake Lake. ―What do you see?‖
WingRidge shrugged. ―There‘s a castle on its edges. Gone now. Like three dozen more
such castles that have disappeared from the ancient landscape.‖
―No, no! It‘s not a ‗castle‘…it‘s a Keep.‖
WingRidge raised his eyes and stared into SpikeFeather‘s face. ―What are you trying to
say?‖
SpikeFeather made a gesture of irritation. ―Every one of the other three Lakes have
Keeps associated with them. Highly magical Keeps.‖
―Yes…‖
―But not Fernbrake Lake. Why not?‖
WingRidge shrugged again. ―I don‘t know. Maybe there was no need—‖
―Yes, there was a need. Every one of the Lakes is supposed to have a Keep! But
Fernbrake‘s has gone.‖
―So where is it?‖
SpikeFeather hesitated, trying to think it through, trying to find out what was wrong with
his idea. But there was nothing. It was perfect.
―It‘s sunk,‖ he said.
WingRidge stared at him, then quickly glanced at the others present before he looked
back at SpikeFeather. ― Sunk? ‖
SpikeFeather nodded. ―Sunk.‖ His finger tapped the map. ―The waterways under
Fernbrake Lake hold the Sanctuary, my friend, and the lost castle is the key. Perhaps even is
Sanctuary. Now all we have to do is find it.‖
WingRidge leaned forward and laid his hand gently on SpikeFeather‘s arm. ―Are you
sure your weariness has not addled your wits, my friend?‖
29
The Mountain Trails
Still in shock, Azhure helped Caelum and Axis to rise. She was trembling badly, and as
she gripped both men‘s hands, she realised they were, too.
Azhure opened her mouth to ask if they were all right, but thought better of it. She