Summer 37: Amb?

Matthew ELeave a comment

Dear Zann,

The portal, or gate, or whatever it was that I had jumped into, looked dangerous, but jumping into it wasn’t quite as reckless as it seemed. What I figured was, where would a couple of resistance wizards want to open a door to? Either back into the real world or, maybe, into the palace. Either of those would be fine with me. And the harp music did suggest the palace to me. They certainly wouldn’t be opening a door to any demonic realms, not with Acea in charge.

So I wasn’t surprised when I tumbled onto a stone floor in some kind of large dim space. It smelled like the palace. It was quiet, though, and there was nobody around, and I didn’t quite recognize the room I was in. It was too big to be anything but a ballroom, but it didn’t look like a ballroom. I got up and wandered to the far end, and found a little corridor leading away, with a staircase leading up. Up was good; I ascended.

I could hear some sounds in the distance, now. Nothing alarming. Just normal noises that meant there were people around the place. That was reassuring, because the last time I had come to the palace, there had been nobody there. Of course, that time, I had come here by a regular road, and this time I came by magic. The greenkind, I wondered, might be able to live in the magic palace without having to live in the physical palace.

I tried some more corridors, and found a door that looked like it ought to lead to another staircase. I opened it. No staircase. It was a small bower with a greenkind man drowsing in a chair. He had a poetry book on his lap. He opened his eyes, and said, “What is it?” I know this fellow, I said to myself.

“Oh. Nothing, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you; I took a wrong turn. But… I think I know you from somewhere.”

“It’s possible,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I have been somewhere.”

I searched my memory. “You’re… I think I helped load some boxes onto your boat. Swings and swings ago. You weren’t paying much attention to me, but… you threw this coin overboard,” I said, and showed him the coin from around my neck.

“Shit!” he said, and scrambled to his feet, knocking the chair over. He quickly got behind it. “Keep that thing away from me!”

I stepped back, politely, and said, “Why? What does it do?”

“Nothing!”

“Then what’s so terrible about it?”

“It’s not… You know what? I don’t want to talk about it. Take it away from me. I don’t ever want to see it again, and if you have any decency, you’ll keep as far from me as you can yourself. I’m sorry for everything but go.”

“I’ll go. But if there’s anything you could tell me about…” But he was covering his eyes so he didn’t have to look at me, and drinking brandy right from the bottle. “I’ll just go, then. Sorry to disturb you.”

I left him, turned two more corners, and found myself in the good old Strawberry Gallery. From there I stepped out into the grassy inner bailey of the palace. Sunshine! Late morning, it looked like. I wondered what there was to eat around here.

There was a fresh breeze off the river. I stepped up a little hill to catch more of it. Why did I miss the palace? I really didn’t belong here. What pleasant memories could I have of the place? But I did like it here and wished I could stay, maybe even live here, somehow.

There were other greenkind around, but nobody close. Ambe’s lair was right over there, though. Could she possibly be inside? I doubted it. But I could check.

I opened the little door and stuck my head in. “Amb? Are you here?”

A patch of moss on the gnarled wall formed itself into a mouth and said, “Amb? Are you here?”

“I guess not,” I said, and went to leave, but the mat below said, “I guess not,” jumped up, and grabbed my hands.

“Ow!” I said, and tried to break free.

“Ow! Are you here?” said the coatrack as it reached out to grab my head and pull me inside.

“Piss off!” I said, fighting against all of this.

“Amb? Piss off,” said the wall, opening up to accept my body into a dark crevice. “I guess not. Ow!” agreed the coatrack, pushing me in.

All my love,

Ybel

Summer 36: unforgivable

Matthew ELeave a comment

Oh, Zann…

“Now then,” Fafafa said, “Gods, it’s good to see you. I suppose some things make more sense to you.”

“You fighting in the resistance, you mean? Yes. I suppose Quoon and Ostavon are also part of it? Are they all right? It’s good to see you too.”

“Of course, yes, they’re fine.”

“And what about Wande?”

He sighed. “Yes. I’m sorry. She was. But she’s not with us now. I don’t know what happened to her. Or her little girl.”

“Oh! I know where they are. Don’t worry about that. They’re well.”

“They are? You’ve seen them?”

“Ay,” I said. “But the resistance.”

“Ay. All simple enough. We couldn’t tell you about it, because you’re a Rosolla Guard, obviously. You must know that. In fact, we still can’t tell you about it.” A few of the other soldiers relaxing in this courtyard were close enough to overhear us. I could see them straining their ears to eavesdrop.

“Yes, you can. Please know, I’m not your enemy. I’m… I’m just trying to fix all this. And I need help. I know Acea hates me, but… is Acea your leader?”

“Ay. Why does he hate you?”

“I could never explain it. It… never mind. My point is, Lord Clear is the enemy. And the greenkind have done unforgivable things, but they’re not the enemy. And I’m not either. And we have to make it all right for us all to be here. Somehow. And I’m the only one who wants to do that, and I need help.”

He shook his head dismissively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How are you going to fix the whole city? You’re not making sense. But see here. You know I’ve done a lot of fighting, over the years.”

“Of course I know that. But–“

“This isn’t the first time I’ve had a friend on the other side. And, whatever you think, I do care about that. I don’t like having to treat you like an enemy–“

“Then don’t!”

“–but now that you’re here it doesn’t matter. I can just put you somewhere safe until this is all over, and I don’t have to worry about us killing you in battle!”

“Put me somewhere! Faf, no, I have to help–“

“It’ll be somewhere comfortable. We’ll feed you. And let you out after we’ve won. You can just relax. We’ll bring you books. You won’t have to worry about anything.” He signaled a couple of soldiers to come over.

“Like piss I won’t! I’m not just going to sit in a box while the world changes all around me! You don’t even know what it’s about! I need to–“

“What are you doing there?” he asked, indicating my left hand. I looked down. I had pulled my coin, on its thong, out from under my tunic and I was digging its edges into my fingers, without knowing. “Is that your magic coin?”

“Ay,” I said. “I don’t know–“

“You’d better give it to me,” Fafafa said, reaching for it. “I’ll hold on to it for–“

“Get your own,” I said, standing and shoving him back over his bench. I used the bench to vault myself over him and run for the nearest door. There were resistance soldiers all around us and I couldn’t avoid them for long, but I knew I couldn’t let them take me.

“Hey!” Fafafa shouted, lying on his back flailing his arms. “Take him! Don’t kill him!”

A couple of alert soldiers blocked the nearest door. Next closest thing was a low window. This was going to hurt, I thought, and dove into it.

I crashed through the glass and slats, and it hurt, and I fell to the floor below. The window may have been low from the point of view of the courtyard, but it was high in the wall of this room. Two women were in here, backed against shelves and cabinets in surprise. “Day,” I said to them.

“Day,” one of them said automatically. “Who are you? What’s happening?”

“Can you get me out of here? The soldiers want–” I looked around. There was a long table with a lot of glassware on it. Many books. A map of the city on the wall, next to a map of the stars. Two purple lights bobbing around in the corner. “You’re wizards? With the resistance?”

A soldier stuck his head through the broken window. “Amele! Hold him there!”

One of the other items in the room was a wooden frame, standing alone, on a swivel. Faint black-and-green smoke was coming out of it. Inside it was a green void, with small yellow lights chasing each other around deep inside. I could hear music, faintly, from it. Harp music.

“Never mind,” I said. “That’ll do.” And I dove through it.

Love,

Ybel

Ya Ya (Lee Dorsey, 1961)

Matthew ELeave a comment

“Ya Ya” – Lee Dorsey (1961) written by Lee Dorsey, C.L. Blast, Bobby Robinson, and Morris Levy, unless some part of that isn’t true. #7 on the Billboard Hot 100, #1 on the Billboard R&B charts. Covered by many other famous acts.

So simple and challenging that it might as well be for little kids. Cheerful, easy to sing, full of nonsense words. On the one hand, why talk about it? On the other hand, why aren’t there always a few songs like this on the charts?

Anyway, the truly admirable thing here for me is the slow start. “Oh… well… I’m…” and then Dorsey’s breath catches and that, right there, that’s where the genius comes in. That part where his breath catches and he jumps into the rhythm of the song, that’s what, as Josh Lyman would put it, makes it art. Replace that with AI, you SOBs!

“Echo Beach” (Martha and the Muffins, 1980)

Matthew ELeave a comment

I have it in mind to start writing about music more, because I like it, even if I don’t know much about it from a technical point of view, and why wouldn’t I start here.

“Echo Beach” – Martha and the Muffins (1980) written by Mark Gane; #5 on the Canadian charts, #37 on the U.S. Disco charts. Juno Award for Single of the Year.

“Echo Beach” sounds simple. There’s a futuristic synth riff, and there’s a woman singing about how she wants to be at Echo Beach, and it’s all very catchy, and it adds up to a hit song. A very modern hit song (for 1980, that is).

But you know, there is a saxophone solo in the song too. And the sax, while it was a very ’80s instrument, wasn’t really a supermodern touch in the way that the synth line was. But that’s okay, because of what the song’s about.

According to the lyrics, the song is about a woman who has a boring, unfulfilling life, and the only good part of it is when she gets to go to Echo Beach. Not for partying and surfing and sunshine, but for solitary evening contemplation. It’s peaceful and beautiful, apparently.

What we have to remember is when the song came out. 1980. And one of the things that was in the air in 1980, and for a long time before and after 1980, was The Sixties. Do you think you hear about the nineteen-sixties too much now? Nothing like it was back then. “Looks like the sixties are finally over!” “When do you think the sixties ended?” “What did you do in the sixties?” “Things were better in the sixties.” The Beatles this and Vietnam that and Kennedy the other thing.

And the Boom was the only generation. (Not literally. There were people older than Boomers, and people younger than Boomers, but nobody talked about any of them as being part of a generation.) The Boom perspective was the only real one. Their storyline was, we came of age in the sixties and that was great but also terrible, then the seventies came and we all had to sell out and get jobs and now there’s disco and we miss the sixties.

Which brings us back to “Echo Beach”. It’s one of many songs* about how the sixties are over and the singer misses them. That job she finds so boring is the one she got after the Beatles broke up. Notice how the lyric specifies, not that she’ll be at Echo Beach, but that she’ll be back at Echo Beach? The place that is far away in time? The value of the place, beautiful as it may be, is in nostalgia. It’s where she can go to remember the past. Almost like it’s where she can hear the echo of the past.

And that’s why the saxophone is appropriate in the song. The singer is looking back to the sixties and the synthesizer is looking back to the sax. It reflects the sound of 1980, when the seedy and sleazy ’70s music was slowly evolving into the sleeker and cleaner ’80s music. “Echo Beach” was leading the march of time in both directions.

It’s a good tune. Check it out if you don’t know it.

*Some other sixties-lament songs of the era were “Hey Nineteen” (Steely Dan), “The Sad Cafe” (Eagles), “Video Killed the Radio Star” (Buggles), “The Boys of Summer” (Don Henley)…

Summer 35: potatoes

Matthew ELeave a comment

Dearest Zann,

Acea stared after us as his soldiers took me away. Of course that’s all he did. He didn’t want to talk to me nor I wanted to talk to him. I loved him. But clearly, clearly, the best thing would be if we never saw each other again.

I didn’t resist. I didn’t speak. What was to say? There was nothing I wanted to know or wanted anyone else to know. I made no mystery about what Acea was doing here; he had heard that the people of Crideon were being repressed by Lord Clear and the greenkind, and he came to help. Just like he and I used to do in other places. And here I was.

The rebel soldiers would put me in a cell. And eventually Acea would come and talk to me. And we would hurt each other. And nothing would be resolved. And he’d let me go, because why not. And then I’d slink off and scheme some more.

“In here,” one of the soldiers said, shoving me toward a door, not too rough.

“No,” I said, putting out an arm against the doorframe. “Wait.”

He thumped me with a spearbutt. “Acea said–“

“I know what he said. But I’d like to do something useful here. Can we do something useful?”

They both had their spears leveled now. “What are you talking about? You’re a Rosolla, and–“

“I came here to try to fix things. Not to fight you fellows. Or anybody. Well, maybe Lord Clear. But all I can do from in there is to make Acea feel bad. Can we do something else instead? Can you think of anything else you can do with me? Ay, keep me out of trouble. But don’t leave me in there like potatoes.”

“Just get in,” the first soldier said, but the second one interrupted.

“No, no; I get this. Well, partly. Let’s take him upstairs. That’ll be fine. We can keep an eye on him.”

“You believe him?” the first one said.

“A little. Come on. Let’s see what happens.”

Grateful as I was, I winced on behalf of Acea. If I was leading a rebellion and one of my men wanted to disobey my orders about a prisoner to ‘see what happens’, my head would pop off of my neck and go bouncing down the lane.

They led me upstairs and out into a little courtyard. There were soldiers training with spears and swords, but also some in a corner sitting around drinking water. They brought me to this corner and shoved me down on a bench. One of them called, “Ancient!” and an officer trotted over.

It was Fafafa. “Oh,” he said, “you’ve got Ybel here. I guess that was inevitable.”

“You know him, sir?”

“I’m his friend,” I interrupted.

Fafafa looked at me, fondly, I thought. “Are you? Still?”

“I don’t know if you’re my friend, but I’m yours.”

Fafafa grinned and sat down. He beckoned a soldier and said, “Could you get my friend some water, please?”

I drank it. Cold and clean.

Love,

Ybel

Songs Featured in the *A History of Rock Music in 500 Songs* Podcast

Matthew ELeave a comment

Here’s something I’ve been thinking of doing for a while.

One of my favourite things is Andrew Hickey’s podcast A History of Rock Music in 500 Songs, which is exactly what the name says it is. Each podcast episode focuses on one song, and over the course of the series, he assembles a history of rock music out of it all. Also there are bonus episodes for Patreon supporters. At this writing he’s at song 183. It’s a really good podcast; you should listen to it.

But if you want to know what all songs the podcast has talked about, it’s really hard to find that information. You have to look at all the episodes and scroll back through Patreon and all. So I thought I’d put together a list of all the featured songs, regular and bonus, and put it up on the internet so everyone else could see a list of good songs. Also, have no fear, I will keep it up to date; I’m usually fairly prompt about these things.

I am not affiliated with Andrew Hickey; he’s aware of this list but it’s very much an unofficial thing. I’m doing it because I like making lists, I’m interested in the podcast, I like the songs, and I like putting stuff up on the internet that people can use to look up stuff that’s of interest.

The link to the list is here. (It’s neither the first nor the last list of songs I’m gonna be putting on this site!) You can look but you can’t edit. Enjoy! Let me know of any issues with the list in the comments. I hope you listen to something you like today.

Summer 34: trusted

Matthew ELeave a comment

Precious Zann:

Seeing Wande there in the tower changed everything. As natural as it felt to stand around on guard duty again, the whole situation in Cas Crid was untenable. I had to figure out how to resolve it as soon as possible; there were just too many things going on. I had to find Srix or Candur or Ambe or somebody.

And leave Wande and Jhusdhe unguarded?

Well…

There was no worry about them coming out of their rooms. They didn’t want to. And if they changed their mind and did want to, I certainly wasn’t going to stand in their way.

But what about guarding them against someone coming to hurt them? To kill them, or take them away? In that case, there ought to be more than one man on the post. Back at the palace, we only put a single person on a post if nobody was ever going to notice it.

Anyway, the biggest threat to Wande and Jhus was Lord Clear himself, and if he came to harm them, just to be a pissard, there wasn’t much I could do about it.

Leaving Wande and Jhus unguarded, I took a quick swig from the jug and headed back down the tower. Once I was in the passage under the tower, I confidently headed north.

And almost immediately was confronted by a T-junction where my only choices were east and west.

My studies of the map of Cas Crid had led me to expect that I could go north from here, and that that was probably the best way to get to the rest of the Rosollas. I didn’t know what to do with east-or-west.

I tried east.

Obviously I was hoping that this passage would swing north again, but it didn’t; it went south and also downstairs. I went through a door at the bottom of the stairs and the passage went south again. Fine, I thought, let’s go back and try the other way, but when I tried, the door had locked behind me.

I swore cheerfully and continued south. Then there were more twists and turns and intersections and rooms I don’t remember. The part I do remember is that I walked into one room and got knocked down.

I hit the floor and gasped; someone landed on me.

“Don’t move, you piss splasher!” a voice said. The owner of the voice was kneeling on my back and holding a shaking knife to my throat. I didn’t move. He kept talking. “Drop–no, you’re not armed. Are you here to surrender?”

“Are you one of the rebels?” I said. “I didn’t know you fellows were this close.”

“I don’t have to answer your questions, guard!”

“Let’s just say I’m here peacefully; is it well?”

“I’ve got a surrendering guard here!” he shrieked out. “Come help me with him!” He bent his head down by my ear and said, in a low voice, “I promise if this is a trap I’m going to stab you in the pizzle.”

“It’s no trap,” I said. “I just don’t know my way around in this place.”

Footsteps. People arriving, probably more rebels.

“Let’s see what you’ve got!” said one voice.

“That’s a Rosolla uniform,” said another. I knew that voice! But– “They never surrender. It’s their oath. Let’s have a look at him.”

They picked me up and turned me around and for the first time in years Acea and I were face to face.

He still looked so good. But– “Ybel,” he said, astonished.

“You know him?” one of the others said.

“I know she’s not to be trusted,” Acea said. “Take her away. I mean, take him away.”

Love,

Ybel

Summer 33: bumbers

Matthew ELeave a comment

Most precious Zann,

I suppose there could have been some other prisoner who ate dried bumbers, but I assumed immediately that Wande and Jhusdhe were behind the door I was guarding. But why? They never did anything; what could the point possibly be of locking them up?

It must be about me, I decided, incorrectly. After all, Lord Clear hated me for ruining his plan with the Great Beast of Crideon. And… learned that I had escaped? And found out that Wande and I were partners, and captured them to… take some kind of revenge on me? It sounded weak, but what other reason could there be?

Usually, I hope, I’m not so self-centered that I can’t think past it, at least a little bit. But that time I was stuck on one idea.

One thing was explained, anyway; if Clear had them locked up in here, it made sense that the wizards wouldn’t be able to find them for me. Cas Crid may have been protected from magical searching even without Clear.

I knocked on the door, not too loud. I was nervous! Why was I nervous?

A moment passed, and I heard Wande say, “I’m here.”

I unlocked and opened the door. And there she was: she looked good. Not hurt. Clean. She stepped back, shocked. Then forward to hug me.

“Ybel! Where–No, never mind! I’m glad you’re all right.”

“I’m glad you’re all right. Have you been here all this time?”

“I–oh. I can’t talk to you about this now.” She let me go. “Ybel, it’s a curst situation, but I’m a prisoner and you’re a guard, and I’m not going to talk about it like that.”

“I don’t care about that,” I told her. “I’ve been looking for you all over the place. I can’t believe you’re here. Come on, let’s go, let’s get out of here. Wake Jhus and we’ll go.”

“Go where?”

“Away! Out of the castle, out of the city. I’m not leaving you two locked up in this musty old pisspot. Once you’re gone, Clear won’t have anything to hold over my head, and–“

“Over your head? Look, Ybel, how do you plan on getting out of the castle?”

She had a point. I didn’t really know where the castle was, exactly. Not really in the world, not in the laur. What other choices were there? “I don’t know. Maybe we can find Ambe and she can help. But we shouldn’t waste time!”

“Wait. My turn now. Well?”

“Well.”

She sighed. “I don’t know if escaping is the right thing to do. And there are complications. For one… I don’t think you and I are together anymore, are we?”

We could be. But… I remembered my time with Ellewen. “Maybe not. I suppose not. But we can still–“

Wande nodded. “And there’s something else. Jhus wants to stay.”

Spoiled brat kid. “Jhus wants a lot of things. If you tell her–“

“She wants to stay here because her father is here.” And she waited for me to understand that.

I understood it. “Her father? Wait. Is it Clear? Were you and Lord Clear…”

She nodded again, and said, “Can we close the door now? I don’t want to answer any more questions. From you or,” she signaled around with her eyes, “anybody else.” And stepped back.

I gave her a pat on the arm, closed the door, and locked it.

Now what do I do, I thought.

All my love,

Ybel

Summer 32: closed door

Matthew ELeave a comment

Most precious Zann,

“Day,” I said cautiously.

“Ybel,” Trall said, surprised. “How did you get here?” Carsaduam stepped over to help me up.

“Hard to explain. Are we all here? All the guards?”

“We are now,” Carsaduam said. “You were the only one missing.”

“Oh.” I started for the door, not wanting to be trapped anywhere. They let me, and we left the room. “And… why are we here? Is Lord Clear here?”

The corridors of Cas Crid were much smaller than those of the Palace. Shorter and narrower, and made of brick. “Mmm,” Carsaduam said. “He holds our oaths. He’s trying to conquer Crideon for himself, not for the rest of the laurans. He’s got us and some townspeople that he’s lured in here. But the castle’s not safe because some rebel townspeople were using Cas Crid as a lair before we got here, and they’re holding out in some places. And they don’t like us anyway.”

“Truly?”

“Ay. We need you. We need everyone. Are you ready to start now? I mean right now. Candur will be glad that you’ve turned up. We can get you a uniform at the guardpost just up here. No more blue pajazuse! Back to the old grey-and-whites.”

“Well,” I said, and followed them. “So there’s fighting in the castle? Now?”

“They’re dug in pretty well,” Trall said. “They have some kind of magic. Lord Clear could probably handle them all by himself, but the laurans in the palace are fighting him magically. He’s, uh. We try not to talk to him or attract his attention.”

“He’s a pisshearted murderer is what he is,” I told them.

Carsaduam turned a corner and we entered a guardpost at the base of a tower. He tossed me a bundle of equipment and I started changing clothes. “He could be ten times a murderer for all I care, if he’d only keep his murdering to our enemies. But he doesn’t care about us any more than he does the rebels. I think he wants the rebels and us to kill each other off until it’s just him.”

“Sounds like we’re talking about the same man.”

Trall handed me some bread wrapped around a bit of cheese and said, “Come on. You can start your first shift. We’ve had Old Aldo on this door for almost two shifts now and he needs a rest.”

“Well. I can guard a door. What’s behind it?” I ate as he showed me the way upstairs.

“Lord Clear has someone in an upper room here. Somebody important, I don’t know. Nobody goes in, nobody comes out. Just food twice a day. Simple as that.”

“Greenkind or human?”

“Piss in my pockets if I know. We guard the door, that’s all. Oh, but you always did ask too many questions.” He frowned at me. “Maybe that’s why Candur likes you. But that’s his business.”

We were in a different tower now. I couldn’t be sure which one, but it was a wide circle in shape. The guard platform was a half moon at the top of the stairs, and Aldo clapped me on the back as I took his place. Aldo leaned on Trall a bit going downstairs.

I was alone, and back on guard.

I had a closed door to protect. I had a lamp and a jug of water on an upturned barrel nearby. I had a cheap sword that I didn’t want. And there was a tray near the stairs with what was left of the previous meal for whoever was in the rooms, waiting to be taken back down. I glanced at it.

On one of the plates, there were some uneaten vegetables, sprinkled with dried bumblebees. Just like Wande makes for Jhusdhe.

All my love,

Ybel

Summer 31: mound

Matthew ELeave a comment

Most treasured Zann,

One thing I had managed to do was spend a few minutes with a map of Cas Crid. I had never seen the place back when it was still standing; I had only come to Crideon after it had been thrown down. And even then I had never really looked at the ruins. So if I was going to figure out how to get in, I needed to know what the layout of the place was.

As castles went it didn’t make a lot of sense. Crideon hadn’t been in any danger of invasion for centuries. (Or so they thought.) So the castle, before it was destroyed, was just another city building in a lot of ways. Different kings had added to it, torn parts down, built things on top of other things, and even included some buildings that were by any reasonable standard down the street from the actual castle. There was only about a third of the original curtainwall left, and it wasn’t really trying to defend anything so much as it was trying to stay out of the way. But I thought I had a good understanding of its main parts as I strolled up to it that morning.

Unusually for Crideon before noon, there was a mist around Cas Crid. I thought it seemed like a very lauran, greenkind kind of mist. Dark gray, with vague blue and yellow lights inside it. Like a fool, I walked right into it.

And then everything was different.

Life was pleasant inside the mist, as long as you kept out of the way of Lord Clear. Much nicer than the harsh sunshine world with all the filthy men and women. How long had I been standing here looking at the cairns of earth that had been raised over the corpse of Castle Crideon? Many days, surely, and contented ones. But now perhaps I could continue on my way, and find the rest of the Rosolla Guard within.

I strolled past the first mound, trying to fit it to what I remembered of the map. The one I wanted, I thought, should be in the middle of the cluster of mounds. I didn’t have a shovel with me. What was the point of digging up ruins? If Clear and the Rosollas and everyone were in here, it was through magic, and therefore I would have to find some kind of magic.

One good place to look might be at the top of the central mound.

Climbing a hill of dirt was one of the least frightening things I had tried to do in the past few swings. It was messy but not really very difficult. The mist was still everywhere, but I could see about twenty feet in all directions, and that was enough. Finally I stood on top of the mound, greyness all about me. There was something up ahead to the left, so I went to investigate. It was a flagpole, only about ten feet tall, flying a blue banner with a blue diamond on it. Lord Clear’s, surely. Could it be magical? It could.

I reached up to touch it, maybe to pull it down, and was wrenched aside magically! Something pulled me, roughly, through some walls of reality, and flung me to the ground. My hand stung where it had brushed the cloth of the flag.

I was in a stone room, somewhere, sprawled on the floor. A small torch provided the only light. There was one door, and it opened. Two Rosolla Guards strode in.

Trall and Carsaduam.

Love,

Ybel