Traitor's Moon

travelers reached a wide fork in the river. As if sundered by the parting of the waters, the forest opened up to either side, affording a clear view across a broad, rolling valley beyond.
    â€œWelcome to Sarikali,” Seregil said, and something in his voice made Alec turn to look at him.
    A blend of fierce pride and reverence seemed to transform the man for an instant, making the Skalan coat he wore look as ill suited as mummer’s garb.
    Alec saw the same expression mirrored in other Aurënfaie faces, as if their very souls shone in their eyes. Exile or not, Seregil was among his own. Ever the wanderer, Alec envied him a little.
    â€œWelcome, my friends!” cried Riagil. “Welcome to Sarikali!”
    â€œI thought there was a city,” Beka said, shading her eyes.
    Alec did the same, wondering if some magic like that guarding the high passes in the mountains was at work. There were no signs of habitation that he could see within the embrace of the two rivers.
    Seregil grinned. “What’s the matter, don’t you see it?”
    A broad stone bridge arched across the narrower of the two branches, allowing riders to cross four abreast.
    The steel helmets of Urgazhi Turma shone like chased silver in the slanting afternoon light, and steel and chain mail glinted beneath their embroidered tabards. Riding at their head, Klia was resplendent in wine-dark velvet and heavy jeweled ornaments. Polished rubies glowed in the large golden brooches that pinned her ridingmantle at the shoulders and in the golden girdle of her gown. She also wore all the Aurënfaie gift jewelry she’d received, even the humble warding charms. Though she’d put aside armor for the occasion, her sword hung at her side in a burnished scabbard worked with gold.
    Once across the river, Riagil led them toward a dark, rambling hillock several miles off. There was something odd about the shape of it, thought Alec. As they drew nearer, it looked stranger still.
    â€œThat’s Sarikali, isn’t it?” he said, pointing ahead. “But it’s a ruins.”
    â€œNot exactly,” said Seregil.
    The city’s dark tiered buildings and thick towers appeared to draw themselves out of the ground. Masses of ivy and creepers growing thickly up the stonework reinforced the illusion that the place had not been built by hands but erupted from the earth. Like a great stone in the river of time, Sarakali stood steadfast and immutable.
    The closer Seregil came to Sarikali, the more the long years in Skala seemed to fade away. The one dark memory he had of the city, ugly as it was, could not efface the joy he’d always associated with this place.
    Most of his visits had been in festival times, when the clans gathered to populate its streets and chambers. Banners and strings of kites festooned the streets of every
tupa
, the section of the city each clan traditionally used when visiting. In the open-air marketplaces one could find goods from every corner of Aurënen and beyond. Outside the city, colorful pavilions would sprinkle the level ground like great summer flowers; bright flags and painted poles marked out racetracks and archery lists. The air would be filled with magic and music and the smells of exotic foods to be tracked down and sampled.
    Today the only signs of habitation were a few flocks of sheep and cattle grazing on the plain.
    â€œYou’d think the Iia’sidra would come out to meet the princess,” Thero remarked disapprovingly in Skalan.
    â€œI was just thinking the same.” Alec eyed the place dubiously.
    â€œThat would give status,” said Seregil. “They retain it by having her come to them. It’s all part of the game.”
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    Their Aurënfaie escort dropped back when they reached the city’s edge, and Urgazhi Turma formed up into two mounted ranks, flanking Klia.
    Turning to Riagil and Amali, Klia bowed in the saddle. “Thank you both for your hospitality and guidance.”
    Amali nudged her mount forward and clasped hands with Klia. “I wish you success. The blessings of Aura be with you!”
    She and Riagil rode off, disappearing from sight with their respective riders among the dark buildings.
    â€œWell, then,” Klia said, squaring her shoulders. “It’s up to us to make an entrance, my friends. Let’s show them the queen’s best. Seregil, you’re my guide from