A Secret Atlas Read Free Page B

Prince’s demesne. He could travel through the wide streets that now thronged with
    Festival visitors, or wend his way through warrens, alleys, and places where, were he
    wearing his own Festival finery, he would have been prey. He had traveled them all since
    he was a child, learning the city fearlessly—or at least fearing it less than incurring his
    grandfather’s wrath if he did not.
    That was an Anturasi’s lot in life. His family had shown a talent for cartography, which was
    all but useless in the Time of Black Ice. It didn’t matter that you knew how to get from one
    valley to another when you had no idea what sort of horror you might find there. As the
    world emerged from the years of ice, snow, and wild magic, the Anturasi gift took on
    greater significance. Until the time of his grandfather, however, Nalenyr had neither the
    leadership nor the resources to exploit it.
    Fifty-six years ago—when his grandfather was only his age and the world was smaller—a
    tiger-sized wolf was ravaging herds in the northern mountains. The then–Naleni Prince—
    Prince Cyron’s father—was set to go hunting and had a dream that he would slay the
    beast. Try as he might, year after year, the Prince failed to fulfill his dream until Qiro
    Anturasi performed a minor miracle. Qiro had undertaken a survey of the area and
    presented the Prince with a map that took the Prince directly to his prey. The Prince slew
    the wolf and granted Qiro a private audience as a reward.
    The story had become part of family legend, along with other tales of Qiro’s subsequent
    travels west to reclaim the Spice Road. Though he failed in that latter mission, the Prince
    still showed great favor to the family. Qiro moved to its head, eclipsing his own father. He
    browbeat his brother, Ulan, into absolute obedience. Qiro’s iron-willed control of the family
    soon extended to all Ulan’s progeny and his own grandchildren. Keles and his siblings
    knew very well what Qiro expected of them and complied at one level or another.
    At my level, compliance; at Jorim’s, none. Nirati cannot, though she does what she
    can. Keles shivered. His sister did not have to worry about Qiro’s ire, and both the older siblings did what they could to shield Jorim. Without their efforts, Qiro would have broken
    him, chaining him to a drafting table beside his cousins, shutting away someone who lived
    to explore the world.
    Keles knew, someday, there would be no protecting Jorim and that even he would fall
    under his grandfather’s suspicions. Qiro had usurped his own father’s place. Ryn Anturasi,
    Keles’ father, had fought horribly with Qiro until his death. The old man clearly expected
    that Keles or Jorim would try to replace him and, if the family’s fortunes were to be
    maintained, one day one of them would.
    Not something to think about. Not today. Not before the Festival. Not before she gets
    here.
    Keles cleared his mind of dire musings and studied the city again. Bright pennants and
    brighter coats of paint made the city new again. It had been a good year, with a number of
    sailing vessels returning to the capital, their holds bulging. They carried exotic items from
    places as far as Tas al Aud and Aefret, including dyes for clothes, spices, artworks, and
    strange animals for the Prince’s preserve. Envoys from distant nations likewise took
    passage on the Prince’s Wolves, sailing to Moriande to celebrate the dynasty’s
    anniversary.
    The Imperial duties levied on those cargoes would easily pay for the Festival. More
    importantly for the Anturasi, since those ships used charts created by Qiro, a percentage
    of their profits came to him. While any one merchant might profit when a ship returned,
    Qiro profited when any ship returned. This fact was not lost on anyone, least of all the Prince.
    The crunch of footsteps on the gravel at the garden’s edge brought Keles around. A
    shaven-headed servant in brown bowed. “Pardon, Master Keles, but Lady