Free Steel and Sorrow by Joshua P. Simon Page B

mountain. Though some distance away, sunlight bounced off the white, red, blue, and green jewels embedded in the outer walls of the structures.
    Twin waterfalls flanking the city crashed into a fast river that encircled high walls like a moat before descending the mountainside. The stone road led to a wide, arcing bridge that crossed over the river.
    “You were right, Nachun.” Guwan’s voice held a rare awe to it.
    “Hmm?”
    “Juanoq is nothing compared to this.”
    Nareash smiled. “Let’s see what else this place has to offer us.” He frowned, remembering a passing thought that had tickled his mind since their arrival on this side of the Great Divide.
    Kaz. He’s probably dead, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. “Tell your men to stay alert. Don’t let their surroundings blind them to what surrounds them.”
    “Do you expect trouble?”
    He lied. “No, but I would rather not be caught by surprise.”
    Does Kaz haunt this place without a memory? That would definitely make things interesting.
    They crossed the bridge and passed through the high outer-walls, surprised to see countless rows of fruit trees growing over relatively flat land. The orchard went on for acres before the group reached another bridge over a small canal. The bridge led them to the inner wall and finally into the city itself.
    Unbelievably, Quarnoq showed no signs of neglect. Unlike the other cities of the land, plant life had not intruded upon the glorious architecture.
    “Do people still live here? The city looks like it was just completed yesterday,” said Mizak.
    “Sorcery. Am I right, Master?” asked Colan.
    Nareash nodded. “Yes. It must have been woven into stone and wood itself.” His gaze turned up at one of the slender towers that lined the main road. Cylindrical in nature, it rose twice as high as anything he could recall in Cadonia. “True experts in the art once lived here.”
    “So, we’re here. Now what?” asked Guwan.
    “The library,” said Nareash. “Mizak?”
    The old man flipped through an old piece of parchment. “We stay on the main road. The library is located in the center of the city.”
    Nareash took off, leaving the others to follow. It took all his will not to break into a run. So focused on what lay ahead, he barely noticed the sights around him. Every spare moment since coming to Hesh he had spent learning about Quarnoq and its mysteries. Previous mentions of the lost continent of Hesh in documents on Estul Island stated that the ancient city contained wonders few could imagine.
    Nareash rounded a bend where the jeweled path widened and branched off. At the crossroads of these intersecting streets stood a building, narrow at its base and broadening into an upside down triangle. Unlike the vibrant colors of the structures around it, the black walls of the library stuck out like a storm cloud on a clear summer day.
    At first Nareash thought the effect was some masterful trick by the former sorcerers who inhabited the city, but as he neared his goal, his heart sank.
    Sorcery had indeed been responsible for the appearance of the library. The stone had been scorched black from an intense heat, disfigured in spots. Though he knew the spell had been performed centuries ago, he could still feel the effects of it, a small hum buzzing in his ears.
    Nareash ignored the questions fired at him from behind as he stepped through the splintered doorway. The smell reminded him of Lyrosene and his battle with the other High Mages.
    In hindsight, I might have found a better way to seize the throne, but the guard had pushed me into acting sooner than I had planned.
    At times, he regretted the lives he took that day, but even at his lowest of moments, he never felt as sick as he did staring at the damage around him. He bent and brushed aside soot from a piece of parchment. It crumbled in his hands. He wiped them, went to a nearby staircase and slowly ascended. Nareash paused at each of the eight floors, satisfied