Nym's Arc

Chapter 2 of 41

Nym woke with sunlight warm on her face. Her packed bag leaned against the wall. She had worked all night, folding a thick blanket, wrapping bread and dried jerky, tucking in extra socks and a warm cloak. Her belly was full. Her plan was ready. But one problem gnawed at her. She wanted to leave at first light, and she had no idea where to go. She sat on the bed and turned the ring in her fingers. The runes on the band meant nothing to her. Neither did the marks on the box or the bone whistle. Her family had left her these things, but they had left no map. The black cat jumped onto the bag and curled up, as if to keep her from lifting it. The door opened. Margo stepped in, her dark cloak still on her shoulders. She had raised Nym since the river brought her, a baby, twenty-one years ago. She had kept the sealed box all that time. Now her eyes moved to the packed bag and stayed there. "You mean to go this morning," Margo said. She did not scold. She sat beside Nym and took her hand. "I do," Nym said. "But I don't know where. The runes could point anywhere." Margo was quiet. Then she reached for the ring and held it to the light. Her thumb traced one carved mark. Her breath caught. "I know these," she whispered. "I have seen them once before." Nym stared at her. "You never said." "I did not understand it until now. When you broke the box, I saw the marks clear for the first time." Margo pressed the ring back into Nym's palm. "There is a tower far to the east. Its stones are carved with runes like these. The same shapes. The same hand, I would swear it." Nym's heart pounded. "A tower. You're certain?" "I passed it as a young woman. I never forgot it." Margo's voice shook. "I do not know who lives there. But maybe they can read the old marks. If anyone can name your family, it is them." Nym gripped the ring until it bit her skin. The empty question had an answer now. Not the whole answer, but a direction. A place to walk toward. "Then that is where I start," she said. Margo cupped Nym's face in both hands. "The road east is long, child. Watch for the mountains, then the river past them. The tower stands where the trees thin." Nym pulled the bag onto her shoulder. The cat leapt down and slipped out ahead of her. At the door she turned back once. "I will come home," she said. "With a name." Margo nodded but did not follow. Nym stepped into the morning light and set her face east, toward a runed tower and the strangers who could read her past.