the outlines of mountains and rivers, trails, and paths.
None of them led directly toward the golden diamond that
shone brightly in the upper-lefthand corner of the parchment.
Grelgen finished the incantation. The parchment ceased
its shaking, allowing the concentrating Elders to relax their
grip. Jon-Tom picked the freshly inscribed map off the
grass. It was warm to the touch. One tiny spot not far from
a minor trail fluoresced brightly.
“The glow shows you where you are at any time,”
Grelgen informed him. “It will travel as you travel. Hold
fast to the map and you will never be lost.” She rose on
diaphanous wings to hover near his shoulder and trace over
the map with her wand. “See? No easy journey from here
and no trails directly to the place.”
“We’re told Crancularn moves about.”
“So it does. It has that characteristic. But the map will
take you there, never fear. This is the cartography of what
will be as well as of what is. A useful skill which we
rarely employ. We like it where we are.”
Jon-Tom thanked her as he folded the map and slipped it
carefully into a pocket of his indigo shirt.
Grelgen hovered nearby. “Tell me, man. Why do you
go to Crancularn?”
“To shop for something in the Shop of the Aether and
Neither.” She nodded, a grave expression on her tiny face.
“We’ve heard many rumors,” he went on. “Is there
something dangerous about the shop?”
“Indeed there is, man. Included among its usual in-
ventory is a large supply of the Truth. That is something
most travelers seek to avoid, not to find. Beware what