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date = 4531-09-09-33-92

from = stid1003@malu@244.21

to = central@rs001@4.0

importance = low

note = as related by unknown malic sage - translation may contain errors

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As they sat around a pile of burning gas-drenched sticks one night, Provich

reviewed the day with Sean. They had been on this road for two days, and

Provich, who was chewing on a black birch twig with a spicy wintergreen odor,

was feeling discouraged.

“So we’ve come who knows how many miles on this old road that doesn't seem to go

anywhere. I can't believe the whole land was this rural - only one site every

five miles or so. The guy at the museum said the Malics had cities and big

towns.”

Sean grinned. “Man, you've got, like, a small country’s worth of land. Just

because they had big cities and towns doesn't mean they covered everything with

precious metal. We've been walking this road for just, like, a week. Me and

Janet have been having a blast.” Sean grinned and wiggled a set of tattooed

toes. “Enjoy yourself. This is awesome!”

Janet leaned over, holding her camera. “Guys, look at this picture.” In the

center of the screen was a large golden eagle in flight. In the background

loomed the mountains they seemed to be headed for.

“Cool,” Provich grumbled.

Janet zoomed way in, past the eagle to a flat area just below the tree line.

“What the heck is that?” Provich asked, staring at the camera. She didn't

answer. On the screen was a large gray area of stone. Its many small areas of

light and shadow had something square about them, something unnatural. Rising

from the center of the area was a tall pillar.

“Looks like you got your city.” Sean said, reaching into his pack for a piece

of fake meat.

≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁

They reached the city ten days later. The road had stopped winding the morning

after Janet's discovery and had headed almost straight for the city. As they

approached, the old building sites became larger and more frequent, often with

multiple foundations on the same site. A high stone wall encircled the city

upon their arrival.

As they passed through the archway they drew their breath. Beyond the wall was

a world of moss, stone, and small scraggly white birches with curled bark and

few leaves. Buildings were large and far apart, all reduced to rock piles of

various sizes. But further in, away from the edge, the buildings looked more

intact. An arch of a doorway survived, holding up the remains of a huge

one-roomed building. The tiles of the streets were smoother, and beyond them,

its base far out of sight, loomed the least ruined thing of all – the stone

tower, its impressive height challenging the reason and logic of its observers.

Provich led the way through the crumbled streets toward the tower. Twenty

minutes later, he reached it. Surrounding the tower was a circle of twelve

moss-covered stone pyramids, each fifteen feet high. Each one had a large

entrance, but Provich thought it looked dark and uninviting inside. Janet and

Puma went inside one, but Provich made straight for the tower, followed by

Sean. The tower had no entrance.

“How the heck did they build this thing?” Provich asked.

Sean laughed. “Dunno. I’m not an architect, dude. But there’s no way in, that’s

for sure.”

Puma walked over from the pyramids and looked at Provich with his bright blue

eyes.

“I found something,” he said, gesturing to the nearest pyramid.

“Get over here,” Janet called from inside it. She had a high powered flashlight

and was crouched in one corner of the space looking at something.

“Lyncoor fur. And look at that!” She pointed the flashlight at the wall opposite

to the opening.

Provich’s heart felt warm and fuzzy. On the floor lay a pile of gold, like a

dragon’s hoard, of statuettes and necklaces, gold and jewels. He took off his

backpack and loaded them into his foam-cushioned treasure bag. He grinned up at

Janet.

“This is it, Janet. Imagine living here four hundred years ago, in this city

built to last, chock full with gold and money!”

“I wonder why it’s all piled up there,” Janet said.

Sean raised his eyebrows. “This is a lyncoor den. Of course the kitty’s raked

the place for anything that sparkles. My friend in Port Berting calls them

misermousers.” Sean laughed. “As if the big things would bother to catch mice.”

“Shut up, Sean” Janet drawled. “We don’t want to hear about your friend in Port

Berting. Do we wanna stay in the city, or go and camp outside the wall?”

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