Alphabet Of Thorn

319 Pages·2005·2.34 MB·English

by  Patricia A. McKillip

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Alphabet of Thorn
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Ace Books by Patricia A. McKillip
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THEFORGOTTENBEASTSOFELD
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THESORCERESSANDTHECYGNET
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THECYGNETANDTHEFIREBIRD
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THEBOOKOFATRIXWOLFE
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12 WINTERROSE
13 SONGFORTHEBASILISK
14 RIDDLE-MASTER: THECOMPLETETRILOGY
15 THETOWERATSTONYWOOD
16 OMBRIAINSHADOW
17 INTHEFORESTSOFSERRE
18 ALPHABETOFTHORN
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Alphabet of Thorn 6
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P A. M K 16
ATRICIA C ILLIP
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ACE BOOKS, NEW YORK 28Reg
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are
used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is
entirely coincidental.
Alphabet of Thorn
AN ACE Book / published by arrangement with the author
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2005 by The ACE Publishing Group.
This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by
mimeograph or any other means, without permission.
Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes
copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to
criminal and civil liability.
For information address:
The ACE Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Putnam Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
The Penguin Putnam Inc. World Wide Web site address is
http://www.penguinputnam.com
ISBN: 0-7865-5480-0
AN ACE BOOK®
ACE Books first published byACE Publishing Group,
a member of Penguin Putnam Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ACE and the "A" design are trademarks belonging to
Penguin Putnam Inc.
Electronic edition: February 2005
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On Dreamer’s Plain, the gathering of delegations from the 13
Twelve Crowns of Raine for the coronation of the 14
Queen of Raine looked like an invading army. So the young 15
transcriptor thought, gazing out a window as she awaited a 16
visiting scholar. She had never been so high in the palace li- 17
brary, and rarely so warm. Usually at this time of the morning 18
she was buried in the stones below, blowing on her fingers to 19
warm them so they could write. Outside, wind gusted across 20
the vast plain, pulling banners taut, shaking the pavilions 21
thrown up for the various delegations’ entourages of troops 22
and servants. A spring squall had blown in from the sea and 23
crossed the plain. The drying pavilions, huffing like bellows in 24
the wind, were brilliant with color. The transcriptor, who had 25
only seen invading armies in the epics she translated, nar- 26
rowed her eyes at this gathering and imagined possibilities. 27Shor
She was counting the horses penned near each pavilion, pelts 28Reg
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2 Patricia A. McKillip
1 lustrous even at a distance after the rain, and as clear, silhou-
2 etted against one another’s whites and grays and chestnuts, as
3 figures pricked on a tapestry, when the scholar finally arrived.
4 A beary man, he shed a fur cloak that smelled of damp and
5 an unusual scent of tobacco. He carried a manuscript
6 wrapped in leather that he laid upon the librarian’s desk as
7 gently as a newborn. As he unswaddled the manuscript, the
8 transcriptor standing silently at the window caught his eye.
9 His hands stilled. He stared at her. Then his head, big, dark,
10 and very hairy, jerked toward the librarian who had shown
11 him in.
12 “Who is this?”
13 “We called her Nepenthe,” the librarian said in his austere
14 voice. His name was Daimon; Nepenthe had known him all
15 her life, for he had found her and named her. Of the child she
16 had been before she became Nepenthe, neither of them knew
17 a thing. In sixteen years since then, she had changed beyond
18 recognition, and he had not changed by a moment, being the
19 same dispassionate, thin-haired wraith who had picked her up
20 with his bony hands and tucked her into a book bag to add to
21 the acquisitions of the royal library. “She is one of our most
22 skilled and creative translators. She has a gift for unusual al-
23 phabets. Such as you say you have, Master Croysus?”
24 “I’ve never seen anything like it in my life,” Master Croysus
25 said. He continued unwrapping the manuscript, still tossing
26 glances at Nepenthe. She stood quietly, her long fingers
hort 27 tucked into her broad black sleeves, trying to look skilled and
Reg 28 creative, while wondering what the scholar found wrong with
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Alphabet of Thorn 3
her face. “It looks like an alphabet of fish. Where did you 1
come from?” 2
“Don’t let her youth deceive you,” Daimon murmured. The 3
scholar shook his head absently, squinting at Nepenthe until 4
she opened her mouth and answered. 5
“Nowhere, Master Croysus. I was abandoned on the cliff 6
edge outside the palace and found by librarians. The last 7
foundling they took in was named Merle. N was the next 8
available letter.” 9
Master Croysus made an incredulous trumpet sound 10
through his nostrils. “I’ve seen that face,” he said abruptly, “on 11
a parchment older than Raine. I don’t remember what it was, 12
except that the ancient kingdom it came from lay far beyond 13
the Twelve Crowns and it no longer exists except on paper.” 14
The librarian looked curiously at Nepenthe; she wished she 15
could take off her head and look at herself. 16
“A clan of wanderers,” he suggested, “remnants of the for- 17
gotten kingdom. Perhaps they were passing through Raine 18
when Nepenthe was born.” 19
“There was no one—?” 20
“No one,” Daimon said simply, “came looking for her.” He 21
paused, added to clarify and end the subject, “It was assumed 22
that whoever left her in that precarious spot—her mother, 23
most likely—flung herself for her own reasons into the sea. 24
The child was left in hope, we also assumed, of a less difficult 25
life, since she was left alive and wailing with great energy 26
when we found her.” 27Shor
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4 Patricia A. McKillip
1 subject. He laid the manuscript bare and gestured to Ne-
2 penthe.
3 She stepped to the desk. They all gazed at the strange,
4 elongated ovals neatly imprinted on something that Nepenthe
5 did not recognize.
6 She brushed it with her fingertips. It was supple and tough
7 at once. Some kind of pelt, it seemed, though it was white as
8 birch and strangely unwrinkled.
9 “What is this?” she asked puzzledly.
10 The scholar regarded her with more than fantastic interest.
11 “Good question. No one knows. I’m hoping that the contents
12 may indicate the tools.” He was silent a moment, his bushy
13 brows raised inquiringly at her, and then at the librarian. “I
14 can stay only as long as the delegation from the Ninth Crown
15 stays after the coronation. I’m traveling in the company of
16 Lord Birnum, who will pay his respects and go home to civi-
17 lization as soon as he can. It is a powerful gesture and a stir-
18 ring custom for rulers to be crowned in the palace of the first
19 King of Raine, but not even he, with all his ambitions, imag-
20 ined the rulers of Twelve Crowns under his ancient roof at the
21 same time.”
22 “Are you with Lord Birnum in the palace?” Daimon asked
23 delicately.
24 “No,” Master Croysus sighed. “In a leaky pavilion.”
25 “We can offer a bed of sorts among the books.”
26 The scholar sighed again, this time with relief. “I would be
hort 27 immensely grateful.”
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you where she will be working on your manuscript. Tran- 1
scriptors dwell in the depths. As well, I must warn you, as do 2
visiting scholars.” 3
“I trust the depths don’t leak.” 4
“No.” 5
“Then I’ll sleep happily buried in stone.” He wrapped his 6
manuscript again in leather and himself in fur, and followed 7
Nepenthe. 8
She led him down and down until mortared stone became 9
solid stone, until they left even the green plain above them and 10
the only light came from windows staring across the sea. Un- 11
til then, he questioned her; she answered absently, wondering 12
about the fish wrapped in his arms. 13
“You don’t remember anything of your life before the li- 14
brarians found you?” 15
“How could I? I had no teeth; I didn’t know words for any- 16
thing. I don’t even remember—” She stopped to light a taper, 17
for the stairways had begun to plunge into hand-hewn bur- 18
rowings. “I do remember one thing. But I don’t know what it is.” 19
“What is it?” 20
She shrugged. “Just a face, I think.” 21
“Whose?” he demanded. 22
“I don’t know. I’m an orphan, Master Croysus,” she re- 23
minded him patiently. “A foundling. The librarians have al- 24
ways taken us in; they train us to become scribes and 25
translators. We get accustomed early to living and working in 26
stone suspended between sky and sea.” 27Shor
“So you’re content here?” 28Reg
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