Isle of Blood and Stone (Isle of Blood and Stone #1)(7)

“Ah . . .” Elias saw Mercedes smile despite herself. “You don’t want to know about those, either.”

“Hmph.” Lord Silva returned to his chair.

And Elias turned to Reyna. How old was she now? Nine? Ten? As small as Mercedes was at that age. Why would she be here, at this urgent, mysterious summons?

He asked, “Have you taken up fighting, Lady Reyna? You’ve lost a few more teeth since I last saw you.”

Reyna smiled shyly at his teasing, displaying two late missing incisors. Her black hair fell in two braids that disappeared below the table’s edge. “Welcome home, Lord Elias.”

“It’s good to be home.” He set his map carrier on the table and threw himself into a chair. Curious, he eyed the two scrolls that lay in the center of the table, both about four feet in length, rolled, and tied with black ribbon. Too large to be the king’s typical correspondence. They looked like maps.

“The king spoke for all of us,” Lord Silva said. “We were starting to worry. What took you so long?”

Months ago, Elias had been dispatched to Hellespont, an island along del Mar’s trade route, to survey its coastlines after a series of earthquakes had altered its topography. But at this moment, he didn’t care the least bit about Hellespont, though it had occupied his every waking thought for many weeks. Now all he wanted to know was why he’d been summoned here before he’d even had a glimpse of his chambers and an opportunity to bathe. He glanced at Ulises, whose expression gave away nothing, and checked his impatience.

“Parts of the island are unrecognizable,” Elias answered Lord Silva’s question. He uncapped his carrier and removed the contents. Sheets of parchment were spread across the table. They varied in size, each a specific rendering of Hellespont. A few sketches showed the entire island, others primarily the northern half. Others magnified an even smaller portion: a harbor, a peninsula, a stretch of coastline. Everyone leaned forward for a closer look.

“The earthquakes transformed the northern edge,” Elias continued, “and there are islets on the west side that have sprung right out of the sea. I’ve redrawn the area.” He addressed Lord Silva. “I wouldn’t have our captains attempt that route without these maps. There are new shoals in place, and rocks that will take the bottom right out of our ships.”

Shoals and sandbars were a danger to every seagoing vessel. There was the risk of grounding or capsizing. Unlike Elias, most of the men aboard a ship could not swim.

Mercedes pulled a chart closer with a fingertip. “These whirlpools are new?”

“Yes,” Elias said.

“Was the Amaris damaged?” Ulises asked.

“Yes,” Elias said. “We hit some rocks. A few of us were thrown. One shipman broke his leg, and we were delayed for weeks with repairs.”

“Thrown?” Mercedes eyed Elias’s bruise with a frown. “What about the serpents?”

“There were none. We were lucky.”

“You’ve a gift for understatement, Elias,” Ulises said. To be thrown from a ship usually meant one was the next meal for the water monsters that lurked beneath the surface, waiting for just such an opportunity. “Were there any signs of surveyors from Lunes?”

Elias smiled. “None.”

Ulises looked satisfied. “Then we have the advantage.” To Lord Silva, he said, “We’ll need copies made.”

“Quickly,” Lord Silva acknowledged. “Several ships are sailing within the week. I’ll see to it.”

“I’ll help,” Elias offered.

In a far-off corner of the castle, mapmakers, painters, and calligraphers copied the charts sketched out by the kingdom’s explorers, men like Elias. They also drew maps using the information brought home by captains, shipmen, and other travelers who were met at the ports. But when time permitted, Elias preferred to draw his own maps. It was the only way to ensure that the copies looked exactly the way he wanted them.

Lord Silva studied one of the charts with a distracted air. “No, you won’t have time, I suspect.”

And Elias could be only so patient. “Won’t I?” he asked politely. “Why not?”

Silence fell. Lord Silva set the map down. Glances were exchanged all around. It grated on Elias, the feeling that everyone in the chamber knew something that he did not.

Mercedes stood. “If I may, Lord Silva?”

“Certainly, my dear.”

Mercedes reached for one of the scrolls, tossed the ribbon aside, and unrolled it. Also on the table was a shallow bowl filled with conch shells. Without a word being exchanged, Elias and Reyna used the shells to secure the four corners. Elias glanced down at the scroll, and then looked again, startled.

It was one of his father’s maps. A rendering of del Mar in its entirety, from the village of Esperanca in the north to the southernmost city of Alfonse. Five compass roses dotted the surface, and a maze of rhumb lines crisscrossed the sheepskin. He saw the harbor, the mountain ranges, the rivers, and waterfalls. Even the sea serpents, slithery monsters painted just beyond the harbor, were given their due in brilliant blues and greens and purples. But most splendid of all was a large inset of Cortes, showing the hilltop castle and the individual streets and storefronts. There were people, even animals. Pigs caged in pens and stray dogs roaming the streets. The detail was remarkable.