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Forty

With the image of the dead mage fresh in his mind, Harpyn moved into the tree’s shadow and examined the hidden door. It was masterfully concealed amid the tree’s bark. If he hadn’t seen it open, he never would have found it. Even so, he knew better than to let himself in. Whoever that man was, Harpyn had to believe he was one of the seedier sort, and this was probably some kind of back entrance only used by undesirables. What he needed was to find the main entrance.

Harpyn began the laborious journey around the base of the tree, climbing up and over the enormous roots while keeping an eye firmly on the trunk lest another door appear before him. But after several hours of walking and climbing, he hadn’t seen any sign of another entrance. And, in fact, he became aware that there was not a single road leading into Olanyi.

Sitting, he pondered this for some time, watching the nose of the airship sticking out of the tree up above. Was it possible that the only way in or out was by air? On the one hand, it made sense. But what if there was a fire? The government of Olanyi couldn’t possibly believe that they could get everyone out safely.

He sighed, pulling out the map and the drawing he had taken from the wrecked airship. It was still hard to believe that those things used to ply the sky, back and forth, carrying countless people. If his Andrysfal had airships, he wouldn’t have had nearly so much trouble with the sword and Geor, he thought regretfully. Perhaps when he returned, he could bring his drawing to the mages and show them what he discovered. They could help him build new ships! He could change the world!

Harpyn was relishing this thought when a furry little critter peeked its head out from between some reeds and then vanished with a plop into the little stream winding its way toward the city. He watched it go, diving and twirling, before it disappeared from view at the base of the tree.

All at once it hit him. The streams! Scrambling to his feet, he ran to the place where the stream met the base of the wall and he dropped to his knees. Pulling his sleeve up to his elbow, he plunged his arm down into the icy water and felt around, confirming that the water continued running under the wall and through to the other side.

He sat back on his heels, pulling out the map. It wasn’t possible for the cartographer to have drawn every little stream and tributary in the delta, but there was one larger stream on the map that clearly bisected the structure and continued out the other side down to the ocean.

He looked up, finding his bearings and turning the map until he determined which way he needed to go to get upstream from the giant tree. Then he wound his way back through the roots until he came to a stream that was wider and stronger than the other one. This one was deep enough that he could lay down on his belly and be completely concealed.

Excitement filled him as he prepared to go in. Of course, he would have to leave his map and drawings behind, but that was okay. Once he was done investigating, he could always come reclaim them. He considered taking his shirt off also, but as dirty as it was, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it a good soak in the stream. He tucked he map and drawing under a rock and stuck a stick in the ground so he’d be able to locate it when he returned. Then, he took a deep breath and jumped into the water, swallowing a scream of shock at the sudden cold.

Letting his breath out slowly, he gave his body time to adjust before he lowered himself the rest of the way and started moving toward the base of the wall.

Harpyn wasn’t a very strong swimmer, but the stream pushed him forward almost effortlessly, so he let himself be carried. When he reached the wall, he held his breath and ducked under only to discover a rather large metal grate blocking his path.

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He should’ve known. Retreating, he emerged from the water gasping. All of the excitement he’d been feeling moments before had worn off, and now he was shivering.

“Stay calm. There has to be another way.”

He ducked under the water two more times, trying to examine the grate although he had kicked up some silt and the water was murky. He felt around its edges, looking for a weak spot, but didn’t find what he was looking for. Frustrated, but unwilling to give up, he planted his feet against the wall on either side of the opening and grasped the grate, pulling as hard as he could against the water’s current. Lungs burning and muscles protesting, he yanked against the grate until he thought he would have to give up. But at the last second, he felt one of the metal bars budge, and then it slipped free of the muddy stream bed, coming loose in his hand.

He surfaced to catch his breath and examined the bar. The space it left behind still wasn’t quite big enough for him to fit through. But if he could use this bar as leverage to pry another free, he might just have the gap he needed to slip inside the citadel.

He ducked back beneath the water, positioning the bar at an angle and bracing himself against the wall. Then he put all of his weight into it, pushing until the felt the second bar snap loose, sending a spray of debris and water up onto the banks of the stream.

“Now to see what’s really going on behind these walls.”

He gave the outside world one last cursory glance before he dropped down into the water and let the stream sweep him inside.

The walls were thicker than he expected, and there was a brief period when he wasn’t sure he could hold his lungs long enough to get all the way through. Soon, however, he found that he was in a broad tunnel and there was plenty of headroom to stand up and take a breath.

Bringing his hands to his lips, he whispered the word and brought forth a tiny ball of light, just enough to examine the inside of the tunnels. They appeared to be made of some kind of stone, cemented together with lime and sand. The stream moved swiftly through the space, and he was worried he might have missed an exit, but there were no obvious breaks in the tunnel.

He kept moving, half-floating on the stream’s current whenever possible. It was an easier way to get around, and he didn’t want to exhaust himself wading over the uneven ground.

After a while, he picked up on a faint noise in the distance. It wasn’t quite the roar of a waterfall, but it was a constant thrum that seemed to be coming from the tunnel itself. He worried he might be heading straight for disaster.

In fact, when he discovered the source of the sound, he was even more puzzled. Up ahead, it appeared that the water was flowing straight upward. Instead of a water fall, he was looking at some kind of water lift.

He planted his feet, trying to avoid being swept up in the strange contraption. Eventually he managed to find a good handhold along the wall, and he inched his way forward until he could lean out and look up to see where the water was going.

“What the-” he started, staring up at the strangest thing he had ever laid eyes on.

The water flowed up and up, as far as he could see toward the top of the tree’s center structure. From there, he could see smaller aqueducts branching off like the spokes of a wheel, carrying the water out in every direction. Water wheels hung suspended high overhead, powering all manner of machines that he couldn’t make sense of.

He leaned further, trying to see more of the citadel’s inner workings, when his foot slipped and he tumbled forward. Before he could stop himself, he was rising with the water, as if suspended on some kind of invisible platform. He tumbled head over heels, doing somersaults as the water flowed over and around him on its way to its destination. He had only enough time between flips to realize that the entire thing worked with magic. The entire structure relied upon a never-ending sprint of magic to carry water to the citizens and keep things moving smoothly. He had never seen so much magic at once, and never used so publicly. The thought of it sent his heart soaring.

That is, until he was deposited in a wide, shallow pool at the very top of the water lift. A mage in a black robe shouted with surprise at his arrival, and then a horn blew and Harpyn found himself surrounded by dozens of mages, all of them staring at him with murder in their eyes.