Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [49]
“Nightshade—”
“Oh, all right. If you insist, I’ll take it back in the morning.”
“Tonight,” said Rhys.
“The minotaur captain won’t miss it until morning,” Nightshade assured him. “And I didn’t take it. I asked the captain if I could borrow it. That was right before he passed out. My minotaur is a little rusty, but I’m pretty certain “Ash kanazi rasckana cloppf1,” means ‘Yes, of course you can, my friend’.”
“We’ll both return the map tonight,” said Rhys.
“Well, if you insist. But first, don’t you want to look at it? This shows the way to—”
“—to Godshome?” cried Mina, jumping up eagerly.
“Well, no, Godshome’s not on here. But it does show Neraka, which is somewhere near where Godshome might be.”
“Which is where?” Mina asked, squatting down beside the map.
Nightshade hunted a bit, then placed his finger on a mountain range on the western side of the continent.
“And where are we?” Mina asked.
Nightshade placed his finger on a dot on the eastern side of the continent.
“That’s not far,” said Mina happily.
“Not far!” Nightshade hooted. “It’s hundreds and hundreds of miles.”
“Pooh. Watch this!” Mina stepped on the map, almost squashing Nightshade’s fingers. Placing her feet close to each other, she walked heel, toe, heel, toe from one side of the map to other side. “There. You see? That was about three steps. Not far at all.”
Nightshade gaped at her. “But that’s—”
“This is boring. I’m going to bed.” Mina walked over to where she had her blanket stashed. Spreading it out, she lay down and immediately sat back up. “We’re starting for Godshome tomorrow,” she told them, and then laid back down, curled up, and went to sleep.
“Three steps,” Nightshade repeated. “She’s going to expect to get there by tomorrow night.”
“I know,” said Rhys. “I’ll talk to her.” He gazed somberly at the map and sighed. “It is a long way. I hadn’t realized just far we had traveled. And how far we have to go.”
“We could book passage on a ship,” Nightshade suggested. “We might find one that would allow kender—”
Rhys smiled at his friend. “We might. But would you put yourself into the hands of the Sea Goddess again?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Nightshade said with a grimace. “I guess we walk.”
He plopped down on his stomach and continued to study the map. “It’s not a straight line from here to there. How will we remember the route?”
He rolled over comfortably on his back, propped his head on his arms. “The minotaur won’t miss his map until morning. If we had something to write on, I could copy it. I know! We could cut up my old shirt!”
He brought the shirt back along with a pair of shears he borrowed (legitimately) from the innkeeper and a quill pen and some ink. Nightshade then settled down happily to make a copy of the map and plot out their route.
“Do you know anything about all these different countries?” he asked Rhys.
“I do know something of them,” Rhys said. “The monks of my order often leave the monastery to travel the world. When they return, they tell tales of where they have been, what they have seen. I have heard many stories and descriptions of the lands of Ansalon.”
A sad note in Rhys’s voice caused Nightshade to look up from his work. “What’s the matter?”
“All those of my order are urged to make such a journey, but it is not required,” Rhys replied. “I had no intention of leaving my monastery. I did not think I needed to know any more of the world than what I could see from the green pastures where I tended the sheep. I would have remained in the monastery all my life, but for Mina.”
He looked over at the child, who was asleep on the floor. Mina’s sleep was often restless. She cried out, whimpered and cringed, and now she had tangled herself up in her blanket. Rhys rearranged the blanket, tucked it around her, and soothed her until she grew more peaceful. When she was breathing more evenly, he left her and returned to where Nightshade was still studying the map.
“It occurs to me that the head of my order may know something about Godshome. Although it is out of our way, I believe it would