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Authors: Diane Stanley
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quarried for building. And he saw his men at the top of soaring cliffs with a system of winches and ropes, hauling their things up from the ships below, animals and bedsteads alike. And best of all, he saw the way in to that sweet, protected spot: a narrow canyon near impossible to find if you didn’t know the way, cutting right through the southern mountains.
“When he came back down the hill—ragged and dirty, no doubt, and with a scraggly beard—he told his people to pack up their belongings and get the ships ready to sail. That is how they came to settle in this place and build this beautiful city. It was a labor of many generations, but these walls and these mountains have kept us safe ever since.” Pieter took a deep breath, his face glowing with pride.
“That’s amazing,” Molly said. “What a wonderful story.”
“Indeed. And as you shall see, we have created a paradise here, untouched and untroubled by the world.”
Molly stared thoughtfully at the great sheet of vellum.
“But what about all the rest of the scroll—that part, and that? All those little pictures and lines?”
“It’s a map of our people, showing the leaders of the seven clans, from the time of Magnus to the present generation.”
“What does that mean—clans?”
“They grew out of family groups long ago. There would have been a patriarch named Gunnar, for example, who was a great hunter, so his descendants became the Gunnarclan, who now serve as the archers on our ramparts. We don’t allow weapons here, as you know, but we have made that one exception. As we are not a warlike people and have no army, we need at least some protection. Just in case.”
“No army?” said Tobias, astonished.
“We have mountains instead.” Pieter smiled. “So, that’s the Gunnarclan. In the same way, long ago, there was a man named Stig, who was a sailor. His descendants are the Stiggesclan, from which our Voyagers are chosen. They don’t sail in ships, not anymore; but they are the only ones who are permitted to leave our valley and go out into the world—secretly, you understand—to learn of new things and bring back wisdom to our people.”
“And you?”
“I’m of the Visenclan. We are scholars, mostly. This is my family line, here.”
“But what about the one in the middle? It has more names than the others. And so many lines lead to it, and there’s so much gold paint.”
Pieter smiled. “That is your clan, lady—the descendants of King Magnus.”
“Gaw!” cried Tobias, forgetting himself entirely. “You’re a royal princess, Molly!”
“Is it true?” she asked.
“In a way. Not exactly. The king’s line is here.” He showed them where the Magnus clan had split several times, some lines dying out, a few running side by side all the way to the bottom. “See the little gold crown I have painted here? That’s our king, Koenraad; and below him you see his son, Prince Fredrik. You are part of this other line, here. But it’s true you are of royal lineage—noble, I believe you’d call it in your country.”
Molly was struck speechless. Royal blood—who would have thought it?
Pieter now opened a drawer and took out a strange object. It was like half of a ball made out of glass. He positioned it carefully at the end of her branch of the Magnus line, peering down and adjusting it slightly. “There!” he said. “Don’t touch it, lady. Just—it’s better if you stand and look straight down. Now tell me, what do you see?”
“Oh, you have made the words larger.”
“Not me, the magnifying glass.”
“Is it magic?”
“No. It’s science, the science of optics. But what I wished you to notice is the word that’s being magnified.”
“Oh. I don’t know how to read.”
“That’s all right. I’ll help you. Now imagine two valleys, side by side.” He drew the shape with a finger in the air. “That is the letter W .”
“But I know that one already!” she cried. “I also know the letter M
“When he came back down the hill—ragged and dirty, no doubt, and with a scraggly beard—he told his people to pack up their belongings and get the ships ready to sail. That is how they came to settle in this place and build this beautiful city. It was a labor of many generations, but these walls and these mountains have kept us safe ever since.” Pieter took a deep breath, his face glowing with pride.
“That’s amazing,” Molly said. “What a wonderful story.”
“Indeed. And as you shall see, we have created a paradise here, untouched and untroubled by the world.”
Molly stared thoughtfully at the great sheet of vellum.
“But what about all the rest of the scroll—that part, and that? All those little pictures and lines?”
“It’s a map of our people, showing the leaders of the seven clans, from the time of Magnus to the present generation.”
“What does that mean—clans?”
“They grew out of family groups long ago. There would have been a patriarch named Gunnar, for example, who was a great hunter, so his descendants became the Gunnarclan, who now serve as the archers on our ramparts. We don’t allow weapons here, as you know, but we have made that one exception. As we are not a warlike people and have no army, we need at least some protection. Just in case.”
“No army?” said Tobias, astonished.
“We have mountains instead.” Pieter smiled. “So, that’s the Gunnarclan. In the same way, long ago, there was a man named Stig, who was a sailor. His descendants are the Stiggesclan, from which our Voyagers are chosen. They don’t sail in ships, not anymore; but they are the only ones who are permitted to leave our valley and go out into the world—secretly, you understand—to learn of new things and bring back wisdom to our people.”
“And you?”
“I’m of the Visenclan. We are scholars, mostly. This is my family line, here.”
“But what about the one in the middle? It has more names than the others. And so many lines lead to it, and there’s so much gold paint.”
Pieter smiled. “That is your clan, lady—the descendants of King Magnus.”
“Gaw!” cried Tobias, forgetting himself entirely. “You’re a royal princess, Molly!”
“Is it true?” she asked.
“In a way. Not exactly. The king’s line is here.” He showed them where the Magnus clan had split several times, some lines dying out, a few running side by side all the way to the bottom. “See the little gold crown I have painted here? That’s our king, Koenraad; and below him you see his son, Prince Fredrik. You are part of this other line, here. But it’s true you are of royal lineage—noble, I believe you’d call it in your country.”
Molly was struck speechless. Royal blood—who would have thought it?
Pieter now opened a drawer and took out a strange object. It was like half of a ball made out of glass. He positioned it carefully at the end of her branch of the Magnus line, peering down and adjusting it slightly. “There!” he said. “Don’t touch it, lady. Just—it’s better if you stand and look straight down. Now tell me, what do you see?”
“Oh, you have made the words larger.”
“Not me, the magnifying glass.”
“Is it magic?”
“No. It’s science, the science of optics. But what I wished you to notice is the word that’s being magnified.”
“Oh. I don’t know how to read.”
“That’s all right. I’ll help you. Now imagine two valleys, side by side.” He drew the shape with a finger in the air. “That is the letter W .”
“But I know that one already!” she cried. “I also know the letter M
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