Free Northlight by Deborah Wheeler Page B

reprinted or copied over from earlier works, but many others were original, on parchment or elkhide vellum.
    As Terricel went on, deeper into the past, the language became archaic and convoluted, the handwritten cursive more difficult to decipher. He felt as if he were entering a secret, vanished world. Whenever he saw a mention of the Starhall, he read more carefully. These records came from a time when the entire Senate, not just the Inner Council, met in the Starhall’s central chamber. The people of those days must have seen the Starhall in a different light, held different beliefs about its origin. Perhaps they knew things that had since been forgotten or relegated to folklore. Perhaps someone then had even tried to find the hidden starship or whatever lay beneath the Starhall.
    A twinge of resentment curled through Terricel as he realized that he would normally never have access to these records. He wouldn’t have even known they existed. He set aside the notebook filled with political notations and began a new one.
    Late in the afternoon, he came across a section at the back of the archival chamber, a set of leather-bound volumes, very old even by the standards of the other materials. Terricel found that by working slowly and consulting his dictionaries, he could decipher much of the script. They appeared to be the diaries of some important official, although whether a Guardian or a gaea-priest wasn’t clear. The writer or writers often referred to the priesthood and the Guardianship as if they were the same thing.
    â€œThe Guardian, though he be of the priesthood and sealed to its mysteries, must yet speak to and for the people. He must be Protector as well as Gatekeeper. Therefore, as the power of knowledge and the light of dedication passes through the Three in the fullness of time, the Guardian may arise from any One, according to his merits and the requirement of the day...”
    Protector as well as Gatekeeper? Gatekeeper? Was this an indication that the Starhall object, assuming there was one, was indeed some kind of physical gate? Or was it merely a metaphorical allusion to the gateway of knowledge?
    Terricel read on, hungry for more details, but very little of the rest was understandable. It seemed to be in code, marked by a familiar symbol: the dotted double circle. Perhaps Esmelda knew what they meant. He’d ask her when he turned in the rest of his findings.
    Terricel copied down the most intriguing excerpts from the coded logs. As he did so, he noticed the archivist hovering just inside the door and wondered how long he’d been there. Terricel stood up and stretched, his spine crackling. He stripped off the mask and gloves and handed them to the archivist.
    Notebooks in hand, he made his way back to the open stacks, where once more he immersed himself in more recent history. This time he didn’t resent the work. At first, he had feared that doing this research for Esmelda would take time away from his thesis proposal. He never imagined he might find such tantalizing clues, clues that might well lead to an even more momentous discovery. All he needed now was the time to delve deeper.

Chapter 7
    â€œTerricel? Terricel sen’Laurea?” came a soft female voice behind his left shoulder. He looked up from the volume he’d been combing, line by line. As his thoughts struggled free from the intricacies of Senatorial debate over the status of an illegitimate minor heir, he felt amazed that anyone had known where to find him here.
    The voice that had shattered his concentration belonged to a young woman dressed in a red and bronze uniform. No, he corrected himself as he took a closer look at what lay below the piles of brassy curls, she was still more girl than woman, fourteen or fifteen at most, despite the curves under her fitted tunic.
    â€œTerricel?”
    â€œI don’t know you, do I?” he said, thinking he might have seen her in the junior classes. He