Kite and Saryth set out for Alt Dunmere three days after the Midwinter celebrations, seen off early in the morning by Kite’s family. Her parents were clearly worried, despite their cheerful good wishes, and their concern was extended to Saryth, which took him by surprise. Somehow, despite their welcome and their generosity, he hadn’t realised they saw him as a person in his own right and not just a companion to their daughter. It made him feel weird, having a link to the place independent of Kite. It wasn’t home, but it was a place where he mattered, and so a place that mattered to him. A place completely separate from Araithel, where the welcome he received at Pyetr’s house was tempered by the trouble he faced if he ever let his real hair colour be known.
Kite was in a bright mood as they walked the two miles to the nearby small town. The path was well-used but unpaved, marked by wheel ruts and hoofprints. The main road came into view when they reached the settlement, a broad, paved road with space for two large carts to pass comfortably. There was no traffic on it at present, and they crossed over and made their way through the narrow streets to the main square of the town. The tall buildings on either side cast deep shadows, but some shops were already setting up, raising the shutters and laying out their wares. A warm, delicious scent rose from a bakery, and Saryth’s stomach grumbled. Kite laughed and went to buy two iced buns.
“It’ll be here soon,” she said, as she handed Saryth one of the buns. The icing was fresh and still a bit drippy; he concentrated on not getting any on his clothes. “Carriages run to Alt Dunmere every day,” she went on, perching on a low wall by a drinking trough. “They take all day to get there, though. They have to fit in with the current technology.” Then she was silent for a while, concentrating on her own bun. Saryth licked his fingers, making sure he didn’t miss any of the delicious sweetness, then went over to the pump and rinsed his hands under it. More shops were opening now, more people visible in the square. Were these all Kite’s people, or was it just her family who had to fit in?
“Yes,” she said when he asked. “This is one of our settlements. We ran out of space in Alt Dunmere, because - well, you’ll see when we get there.”
By the time the carriage arrived, the square was bustling with people and alive with chatter, and four others had joined Kite and Saryth in the queue for transport. The carriage was tall and spacious, drawn by two beasts with short tails, floppy ears and split hooves. The driver pulled her team up and let them drink, although they seemed less thirsty than playful, spluttering at the water and lipping each other.
Inside, the carriage was comfortable and spacious, and the six passengers settled themselves for the journey. The driver collected their fares, then departed for a short while in the direction of the bakery. When she came back, she was licking her fingers surreptitiously. The carriage rocked as she climbed on, and rattled worryingly over the town streets, but once on the main road it settled to a more comfortable sway, and Saryth watched the countryside roll steadily past, fascinated by the similarities and differences to the other worlds he’d seen.
They stopped twice more in similar small towns to let people off and pick others up, but as promised, by the time they reached Alt Dunmere it was early evening and the sun was beginning to set. They’d been going uphill since midday, and the countryside had changed from the well-populated farmlands near Kite’s home, to sparsely settled farms with large fields but poorer crops, and finally to moorlands with the occasional herder’s hut visible on the horizon. The main road ended in a small square with a few buildings around it, no urban centre this. Saryth peered out of the window at the unpromising landscape, confused. The driver came round to open the door.
“All right, folks,” she said cheerfully. “We’re here!”
Saryth climbed out of the carriage after Kite, stretching his cramped legs with relief. The building they’d drawn up next to was an inn, so maybe they were staying here for the night? But Kite had set off in the opposite direction, along with the other five passengers who’d disembarked with them. Confused, Saryth turned to follow them. They crossed the square and went down a set of steps between two buildings, and came out onto a quay. Saryth stopped and stared. The dark waters of a lake stretched out in front of him, and far away on the other side the mountains rose, catching the long rays of the setting sun on their western sides. In between the near shore and the mountains, its own roofs tinged with sunset gold as though imitating the peaks, Alt Dunmere rose from the waters like a floating city in a fairytale.
Saryth followed Kite and the other passengers, as though in a dream, to where a long barge was waiting a short way along the quay. They all clambered in and sat down, but if anything was offered to the crew by way of pay, he didn’t see. He couldn’t take his eyes off the city, off the buildings glowing golden in the fading sunlight, the bright contrast against the dark water and the darker mountains. Their barge wallowed out across the lake, propelled by four oarsmen. Small boats flicked over the water in the distance, entering and leaving the city, and once he saw a larger vessel emerge from between two buildings, towed by two small boats to a distance until the crew could raise their own sails and get under way. The whole thing was fantastic and ridiculous and he was enchanted.
The barge moored up by a quay very similar to the one they’d left on the shore, and Saryth followed Kite along the maze of wooden walkways between the buildings. Some of them floated, swaying disturbingly under his feet, and some were not rigid, but hung between end points, but most of them seemed to have stone supports rising from the lake. There was water everywhere, in between all the buildings, so that every building seemed to be its own island, but he couldn’t tell what they were standing on. Eventually he found his voice, and managed the question. “How does all this work?”
Kite looked back and smiled. “It’s a cheat, I’m afraid. The lake is actually quite shallow, and has a number of small islands and submerged platforms. The buildings are built on solid rock.”
“Oh.” He felt inexplicably let down. Surely it was better to be built on stone rather than relying on some kind of magic?
Kite stopped in front of a tall, elegant building with pillars holding up an intricately decorated porch. “This is the library,” she said, pushing the doors open to a large hall with more pillars down the centre. To one side was a large desk, and behind it a middle-aged woman who looked up with a smile.
“Kite! I haven’t seen you in ages!”
“Hello, Maddie,” Kite said.
“What can I do for you?”
“I need access to the database, please. This is Saryth, he’s with me.”
Maddie didn’t blink. “No problem. Come this way.” She led them through a door behind the desk and into a large room filled with what looked like tall grey metal boxes, all arranged in neat lines two boxes deep. “Pick whichever terminal you want,” she said. “We don’t have many users today.”
Kite went to one of the metal boxes and rested her staff against the neighbouring one. Saryth looked at it dubiously. It was a tall, rectangular cuboid with what looked like dials and switches on top. At the back, behind the dials and switches a surface extended vertically. All the “terminals” looked the same, but the ones on the other side of their line were facing the opposite way, so that they stood back to back. As he watched, Kite toggled one of the switches in front of her, her “terminal” made a whirring, clicking noise, and the flat vertical surface suddenly displayed a word.
“What are you doing?” he asked. Kite turned some of the dials in front of her. They were marked with tiny letters, only visible closer up. She pointed to the display, where the letters she was selecting with the dials were showing up.
“These terminals are all connected to the central system,” she said. “It keeps records on all monitored gates, and on as many worlds as possible.” She pulled a lever, and Saryth heard clicking and whirring, watched as letters in the display surface spun and flicked into place.
“What does it say?”
“It said ‘please enter request’, so I told it to look for accesses to Birchan by permanent gates, on the relevant dates. Since Birchan is a hub world, any new permanent gates should have been noted and recorded.” She pointed to a line of text the machine had produced. “See, that’s the one we took from the cliff above Ansel.”
“Just next to the Dunburgh one that we closed,” Saryth said, beginning to understand what she was doing, even if not how it all worked. “Yes, I remember.”
Kite turned a different wheel, and more letters appeared. “Aeryn used this gate. It was created about a month after the one he used to enter Birchan. Istorante is a mid-period phase two world... But he didn’t stop there.” She turned the wheel again, and a single line of text appeared. “No other accesses. So that’s where he stopped.” She frowned. “Nordrnaess.”
“What kind of place is it?”
“One that’s barely been studied. Phase one, early period. There’s hardly any information other than that.” She took a small wooden tablet from her bag and opened it to scratch details in its surface. Then she pulled another lever and the display reset itself, the letters flicking through to blanks. Finally she toggled the first switch and the machine fell silent. She picked up her staff. “The traveller who visited only noted that Nordrnaess itself is a mid-primitive settlement. We should be all right as we are, although I doubt we’ll end up in Nordrnaess itself. We can stay here tonight and leave tomorrow morning.”
Saryth, his head spinning, followed her out of the room and back to the front desk.
“Thanks, Maddie!” Kite called as they left.
“You’re welcome. Good luck!”
Morning in Alt Dunmere was even more enchanting than evening. The landscape was flatter to the east, allowing the city to bask in the dawn rays for longer as the sun rose. The yellow stone which made up most of the buildings looked fresh and new, and the mountains seemed to welcome the morning. Even the lake looked brighter, its dark waters topped with silver flurries where the wind ruffled its surface. It was a glorious morning, and Kite felt the familiar, beloved charm of the city lift her heart. Beside her, Saryth was looking around, drinking in the sight, and his obvious delight made her even more happy.
“This way,” she said, and the need to leave made her a little sad. We’ll have to come back.
The opposite shore could be reached only by boat, which was of course why the city was there, guarding and monitoring the great gate complexes under the mountain. Alt Dunmere was a ridiculous anomaly, a costly city built in the middle of nowhere, needing enormous amounts of food to be imported from its satellite towns, all in the service of the gate complex. The trail which led up from the quay where they left the little boat was winding and awkward, and the hut it led to looked much like the herder huts on the other side of the lake. But it was tucked into a small valley guarded by the encircling mountains, and nobody herded anything here. Kite knocked on the door of the hut.
“I travel in search of that which was lost,” she said as the door opened to reveal a familiar smile.
“And I live in hope of its being found,” said the owner of the smile. “Come in, come in! Good to see you, Kite!”
“And you, Ash!”
He stood aside to let them enter the hut. It was more comfortable inside than it appeared from without, with a crackling fire in the hearth, very welcome at this altitude. Ash eyed Saryth with interest. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Saryth.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Ash Gatewarden.” He wore the name well. Ash had been in her training cohort, and he was doing well if he’d been assigned to the Alt Dunmere complex. “I take it you didn’t trek up here just to say hello?”
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“Afraid not. Can we use the gates, please?”
“Just let me note you two down.” He opened the folder on the desk, picked up the pen lying there and uncapped the ink. “What names?”
“Kite Seeker, and -”
“Saryth Eabrand,” Saryth interjected. Kite blinked in surprise. Ash wrote them both down without comment, then went over to the far wall and pulled aside the heavy embroidered curtain which covered the entrance to the complex.
“This way - good luck!”
“Thanks!” Kite said, and they headed down the stairs. As they reached the bottom, she managed to ask, “where did that come from?”
“Pyetr,” Saryth said. “He said I’d better pick a relevant usename I preferred.. or I’d end up with the obvious one. So...” He let the sentence trail off, and Kite looked away, feeling awkward. The stairs opened out into an enormous cavern, arching roof supported by pillars carved from the rock. From where she and Saryth stood at the foot of the stairs, four large halls were arranged radially, and at the end of each one stood a permanent gate, taking up the entirety of the cave wall. Lamps were hung on every suitable surface, but the main light came from the radiance of the four gates themselves, a steady, silver, unsettling glow. People were clustered at the gate to the right, but the other three were empty. Kite looked around and saw another familiar figure.
“Raven!” she called, and the gatekeeper looked round and beamed at her.
“Kite? I haven’t seen you in years!” She left the control console and came over. “Where’ve you been?”
“Recently, looking for Harien’s sun.”
“Oh, you as well? Any luck?”
“Yes, we have a lead -”
“We?” Raven queried sharply, and Kite became abruptly aware of an absence. Where’s -
“Saryth?”
Raven looked around too, and then pointed. “Oho! Would that be him?” Kite followed her gaze and saw Saryth by the gate itself, staring up at it. His hair was almost glowing in its light. “Very nice!” Raven smirked at Kite, who flushed, then turned to call, “Hey! It’s a gate. Did Kite mention them?”
Saryth startled and turned, looking almost guilty. He came over to join Kite and Raven. “Yes, I’ve made a couple.”
“You made some?” Raven sounded sceptical, as well she might. He didn’t seem to notice.
“Well, temporary ones,” he said. “This is a permanent one?”
“Yes, that’s right, and unlike a temporary gate or a natural one, this one can go anywhere. We normally keep it tuned to a Birchan gate, but we often take requests.” She was clearly enjoying the chance to talk about her gate. Saryth turned back to the gate, frowning in concentration.
“Can you see the strings?” Raven asked.
“It’s... shimmering,” he said, which seemed to satisfy her. She turned to Kite and gave a thumbs up.
“Veeery nice!”
“Oh, shut up!” Kite snapped, but Raven just laughed out loud. Saryth looked confused. “Anyway,” Kite said, trying to regain control of the situation, “we’re going to Nordrnaess. There’s a new permanent gate opened there. Can you link to it?”
“Where? Never heard of it.”
Kite held up her tablet. “Here’re the coordinates.” Raven studied it, then nodded.
“All right. We’ve got nothing scheduled until midafternoon. Do you want to go now?”
“Yes please.”
“Then step right this way! I’ll just clear the gate.” She went to the console and entered the coordinates, then returned the tablet to Kite. “Give me a call when you’re back in town.”
“Will do,” Kite said, tucking the tablet away.
“Saryth too! Good luck!” Raven pulled the lever and the shimmer of the gate increased. Kite felt the tug of the magic swirling round her, the gathering potential and the sudden jolting snap as the gate transferred them to the coordinates she’d given Raven. Briefly the image of her smiling friend was overlaid onto a bleak landscape, then Raven faded, Kite rubbed her eyes, and there was only the cold winter wind, the scrubby moorland and the grey water in the distance.
It was not a welcoming sight, nor welcoming weather. Saryth felt his heart sink and wished they could have stayed one more day in Alt Dunmere. They were standing on a hill above a settlement - no golden stone here, no spires, just wooden huts crouching in a huddle by the bay below. Grey water separated them from a similar hill opposite, and grey clouds whipped across a grey sky overhead. Long, narrow boats were pulled up on the pebbly shore.
“What kind of ships are those?” he wondered out loud.
“It’s cold!” Kite said, pulling her cloak around her, then frowned. “The almanac said it’s supposed to be early summer here!”
The wind dropped as they picked their way down the hillside, which was a relief. As they came closer to the huddle of huts, two men stepped out to bar their way. They wore leather tunics and woollen cloaks, no kind of uniform, but they were clearly guards. One carried a spear and the other wore a sword on his back.
“Stop!” said the swordsman. “Who are you and where have you come from?”
“I’m Kite. This is Saryth. We’re looking for the sun.”
“What is your business in Aescesdun?”
“None specifically.”
“Are you from Nordrnaess?”
“No. We’ve come from a long way away.”
The two men looked at each other. They didn’t say anything, but some kind of communication happened. The spear carrier stood to one side, clearly remaining in position, while the swordsman beckoned them to follow him. “I’ll take you to the Ealdor.”
“Thank you,” Kite said.
As they followed the swordsman down, Saryth hung back a little and murmured to Kite, “you didn’t mention Aeryn?”
“We don’t know what the situation is yet,” she replied. “Best play safe.”
The guard led them to the biggest hut, and at this vantage point, “hut” was unfair. It was a well-constructed dwelling, the walls made of thick wooden planks and the chinks stuffed to prevent draughts. Intricate patterns were carved around the door frame. The roof was thickly thatched.
“Ealdor!” the guard called. “Some travellers from far away!” Then he ushered Kite and Saryth inside. The interior was dark in comparison to the outside, and Saryth blinked as his vision adjusted. He and Kite and the guard stood on a wooden floor at the same level as the outside, but a short way in, the floor was raised, so that the man who the guard had been addressing was looking down at them from the chair on which he was seated. Most of the light inside came from the central fire, which was set into the raised floor. People were gathered on the other side of the fire, but the only person near the Ealdor was a middle-aged woman with braided hair and a wary, worried expression. The Ealdor himself was an elderly man with a deeply lined face, wearing a heavy cloak despite the warmth of the fire.
“Travellers from far away?” he said.
“Yes, Ealdor,” said the guard. “We found them on the hill above the dun.”
The Ealdor leaned forward, the firelight glinting off the ornate brooch in his cloak. “What are you journeying for?”
“We’re looking for the sun,” Kite said.
“Aren’t we all?” He might have smiled a bit, but it was hard to see. “Tell me, in times like these, why aren’t you bearing arms?” The woman looked over at this, but didn’t say anything.
“We have no desire to cause harm to anyone,” Kite said.
“But not everyone lives by that creed. You yourselves have not gone unscathed.” Saryth twitched at the weight of his gaze, then he turned and raised his voice. “Cynefrid!”
A young man came forwards from the cluster of people behind the fire.
“Do you recognise them?” the Ealdor asked.
“No lord, nor their style of dress.”
The Ealdor nodded. “Then I bid you welcome as guests in this dun, Kite and Saryth.”
“Thank you, Ealdor.” Saryth copied Kite’s bow. The woman stepped off the platform and came up to them.
“I’m the gaesthost,” she said. “My name is Aethylthryth. The young unmarried men sleep in this hall. Kite, if you come with me, I’ll show you the virgins’ hall. Unless you are..?”
“No - no, we’re not,” Kite said. “Thank you.” She followed Aethylthryth out. Saryth watched her go, wondering at how different worlds could be. Did she have to stay in this virgins’ hall? How was he supposed to act now? He went out, trying not to look like he was following Kite.
“Saryth?” He jumped and turned to see Cynefrid had come up to him. He looked worried and intent. “Could I ask, where exactly are you from? Is it far?” And before Saryth could think of a way to dissemble, Cynefrid blurted out, “are there many witches there?” Saryth flinched, and Cynefrid looked concerned. “Did I offend?”
“No, it’s all right. There aren’t many, um, witches there, and it’s very far away. Why?”
Cynefrid’s face fell. “I was hoping to find help. You may have noticed that Oeric - the Ealdor - is not well. I fear it is a curse, and that it is my fault.”
“Your fault? Why?”
“The situation in Nordrnaess... well, it’s complex.” Cynefrid started walking and Saryth followed him. He led the way to a clearing and sat down on a convenient tree trunk, waving Saryth to sit by him. “My father, who was Lord there, died recently,” Cynefrid went on. “My uncle Wyrtgeorn has seized power. He tried to kill me. I fled here, and Oeric took me in.” Saryth bit his lip, uncertain where all this was going. Cynefrid was staring at the ground, his face set. “Wyrtgeorn has declared war on Aescesdun, unless I am handed over. My uncle - there are rumours he has a witch working for him, a man named Drogo. Now all of a sudden Oeric is ill, and of his grandsons, his only heirs, one is crippled and the other lies in a sleep like death. The healer can’t do anything about it. And this weather - it’s still so cold, and it ought to be summer. It must be a curse.” He looked up again, miserable. “We need help, we need a witch of our own, but where can we find one? No-one knows what to do. They’ve even found a stranger for - for the equinox. Like that will help.”
“A stranger?” Saryth felt his heart lurch. “Tell me about him?”
“I haven’t seen him myself, but they say he is the incarnation of summer, with golden eyes and hair like flame. Why?”
“I have a horrible feeling I know who that is.”