Cane's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

The road ended at the city gate, and Cane stopped there. Dark wood and black stone rose above him, taller than any building he knew. Warm light glowed in a hundred narrow windows. Guards in silver mail stood at the arch. They watched him climb the last of the hill, and their hands moved to their spears. He was a stranger here, six and a half feet tall, with a foreign face. No one had sent for him. No one knew his name. "Halt," the nearest guard said. "State your house and your business." Cane had no house here. His people would not exist for ten thousand years. He held up the ring on his hand, the gold band with the ruby at its heart. "I carry the mark of a bloodline older than this gate," he said. It was true and it meant nothing. The guard looked at the ring and laughed. "Bloodlines have names," the guard said. "Yours isn't in the roll. Turn around." The other guards stepped closer. Spears lowered. Cane reached inside for the change and found only the worn thread of it. He could not even shift his face to something they would trust. The air beside him shivered. Libra appeared, wings bright, feet not touching the stone. Cane had met her only once, at dawn, under the great stone-barked tree. She was the fairy the world had made to guide him. She looked at the spears without fear. "Wrong question," she told the guard. "You asked his house. You should have asked what he can show you." She lifted her hand. The air above the gate split open with light. A lion the size of a house stood in the road, three tails lashing, wide dragon wings spread over the guards' heads. It roared, and the sound shook the windows. The guards fell back. Two dropped their spears. It was not real. Cane knew her gift. But the guards did not. "He travels with an omen," Libra said, plain and flat. "Bar him, and you answer for it." The illusion faded. The road stood empty again. The guards looked from the fading light to the tall stranger and could not decide what he was. Fear had done the work that Cane's ring could not. An older guard came from the arch. He studied Cane, then bowed his head an inch. "You'll come before the council," he said. "They decide who enters, not us." He waved them through the gate. Cane walked under the black stone arch into the city. Lamps lit the street. People turned to stare at him. He was inside now, but not welcome, only watched. A summons waited, and a council of strangers who would weigh his every word. Libra walked beside him. "You're in," she said. "Now they all know your face. Fix it before you meet them."