Page 55 of Polestar
“That’s because we worked together to build the place.”
Ana stumbled on the cobbles.“Wait-what?Dwarves arereal?You’re joking, right?This place has to have been built centuries ago.Where are they now?”
“Yes.No.It was.No idea.”
“Huh.”She considered this as they moved toward the next reinforced door.“Where is everyone?”
“Ordered to remain out of sight.Banished are to be considered among the dead and treated thus.The land of the dead is a barren landscape, devoid of the living.The two worlds never cross.Mine is an exceptional circumstance.”
“I’d argue against the ‘never cross’ part,” Ana murmured.“But, yeah, I think I get it.So, the villagers we met before…”
“Caught off-guard, I suppose.If they knew it was me coming to their dock, they likely would have disappeared, too.Except for the temple priestess.”
“The convener for the two worlds.”
Magnus smiled as he turned to look at her before passing through the next reinforced door.“Were you Barentian, you’d have been given to the temple because of your ability.”
“Lucky for both of us, I’m not.”
Ana’s heart panged when Magnus’ smile left.
“I suppose it is.Otherwise, neither of us would be here now.”
They approached the final heavy door that would lead them inside.Her gaze traveled up the face of the fortress nestled into the foot of the mountain.
It was no wonder the Barentians were an unconquered people.
She caught sight of a young Barentian with the same wild hair that Magnus had, peering down at them from a gap in the rock that she guessed was a balcony or large window of some kind.
His son?
Or just another curious youth, defying the rules?
Inside, the reception hall was cavernous, but they continued past it.Magnus led Ana down a stone-lined corridor to another room that showed the first hints of warmth.
It looked like a small clerks’ office, with a large desk and a wall of fitted shelves supporting scrolls, books and other miscellany that Ana itched to explore.A lit fireplace provided heat.
Electric lighting suspended above the main desk and other work benches illuminated documents and manuscripts strewn across their surfaces.
A stout woman with graying auburn hair, carrying a heavy leather-bound book, approached from a doorway tucked into the back of the room.She stopped on the opposite side of the large desk, placing the open volume with care on its surface.
There were pens and pencils of varying types and inks.The woman ignored those in favor of a quill and inkwell that she withdrew from somewhere behind the desk.She set them near the book and adjusted her glasses.
“Registrar Maerie Gailensdotter,” Magnus greeted her.
Peering over the top rim of her lenses at Magnus and Ana, nose twitching as she scented them, she spoke in English.“Prince Magnus Bjornson, I presume we are recording a union.Are there any offspring to account for?”
“Shouldn’t the clan shaman be here to witness the record?”
“He will not be.”
Magnus grunted.“I thought my father—the king,” he corrected himself, “was determined to uphold all the values and traditions that Barentia has observed for centuries?”
“Millenia,” the woman corrected.“It would seem our esteemed king is allowing some changes to our traditions.”
“I’m standing here, a banished man, because he refused to change anything,” Magnus ground through his teeth.
The woman’s gaze flicked to the open door behind them before she removed her glasses, set them next to the open inkwell, and strode toward the door.With a quick peek into the hall, she closed it and returned to her post.
