“It doesn’t work at all?”
“I’m afraid not. Look through it, you will see nothing. Yet, as its design and features may yet be useful as a subject of study, we keep it here. Just in case.”
Yorda’s heart stirred. It’s not broken. My mother’s enchantments made it dark. She thought of everything.
But then Yorda wondered what would happen if she were to look through it now that her true eye had opened. The words of her father came back to her. “Look at the world outside,” he had told her. See it with your eyes. The Creator will light your path.
The beating of her heart grew faster. She tensed her stomach so that she would not begin to tremble. Then, with the most innocent smile she could muster, she said, “It is a beautiful instrument, even though it’s broken. I’ve never touched such a device before. Would it be all right if I picked it up?”
“By all means,” the scholar said. “Allow me to-” his hand went to his pocket. “Now where is that key for the storage boxes? A moment, please, Princess.”
The scholar dashed off between the bookcases and promptly returned bearing a small copper key in his hand.
He opened the door to the storage box and gingerly pulled out the spyglass, proffering it to her. Yorda took it in both hands. It was heavier than it looked.
“It’s beautiful!” Yorda held the telescope to her chest. “Might you lend this to me, just for a little while? I would love to examine it at my leisure.”
“Of course, Princess, but I’m afraid it won’t be of much use.”
“That’s all right. I don’t intend to look through it. I intend to look at it. The craftsmanship is simply masterful.”
Yorda lifted a single finger to her lips and leaned closer to the scholar. “Don’t tell Master Suhal that I’ve borrowed this. I want to surprise him later with my intimate knowledge of it!”
The scholar’s face blushed bright red with approval. He looked like he might melt on the spot. Yorda slipped the spyglass between the soft pleats of her dress and, walking even more quietly than before, left the library with her heart pounding in her ears.
Back in her own chambers, she quickly transferred the spyglass to a hiding spot beneath her pillow and ran back to the door. She didn’t want her handmaiden walking in and seeing her using it. If she was going to do this with any degree of privacy, she had to take precautions.
There was no way to lock her chamber door from the inside. Looking around, she spotted a poker by her fireplace and propped it against the door at a precarious angle. When it fell, she would know someone was at the door.
Yorda shook her head, thinking ruefully how feeble her attempts at subterfuge were.
Retrieving the spyglass, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Her terrace would be the best spot for viewing, but if she wasn’t careful, one of the guards might spot her. She would have to settle for her next best option: a window.
Fortunately, Yorda’s chambers had windows on three sides, looking out to the south, north, and east. To the south was the central courtyard of the castle, which she deemed too dangerous. She would start with the east. There were no towers to block her view in that direction.
Yorda lifted the spyglass in both hands, as though praying, and then, holding her breath, she quickly brought the small end up to her right eye.
She could see the blue ocean, but the light was so bright it made her eye water. She quickly lowered the telescope, realizing that she must have caught the sun reflecting off the waves.
Even still, Yorda’s heart leapt for joy. It works!
She began experimenting. Adjusting the dial she found on its neck, she tried different angles for holding it. When Yorda finally had it working, she looked through and saw the white feathers of a seabird skimming the surface of the water. It appeared so close it seemed to fly right by her nose, and she gave a little yelp of excitement.
Whitecaps crested the blue water. She saw small rocks amongst the waves, sending up white spray where the water collided with them.
She was used to looking out at the sea, even though she had never touched it in her life. Now, looking at it through the telescope, it seemed near enough for her to reach from her own chambers. After a while, her initial excitement faded, and disappointment reared its head.
This is the world outside.
It wasn’t as exciting as she had hoped. She wasn’t even sure if the spyglass was powerful enough to see what lay beyond the castle. Perhaps she would be able to see nothing more than what she already could from the walls.
Still, it was better than doing nothing. The spyglass, cast off as junk by the others in the castle, was useful to her. That must mean something.
She focused the spyglass to its maximum distance, trying to see as far away from the castle as possible. It was then she noticed a strangely shaped rock jutting from the waves near the shore. When she lowered the spyglass, she found it was too far away to discern with the naked eye.
She took another look through the spyglass. The rock was triangular, growing wider nearer the bottom. It looked almost like a ship sunk at sea, with only its sail remaining above the waters.
Yorda gasped and almost dropped the spyglass.
It didn’t just look like a sail. It was a sail. A sail of stone.
She looked closer and spotted people on the deck of the boat. Their arms were spread wide, as though they were surprised by something, and their faces were turned upward toward the sky.
The stone looked weathered, battered by waves and the relentless wind. Below the sail, the ship itself was almost entirely worn away. The people on the deck, too, were weathered, making it impossible to discern their clothing or features.
Part of the sail had fallen away, though whether it was ripped before turning to stone or crumbled afterward, she couldn’t say. Though the boat retained no identifying markings, it had most likely sailed from another kingdom. A merchant ship perhaps, one that had earned her mother’s wrath and paid dearly for it.
Spyglass clasped in her hands, Yorda ran across the room to the north window. Here, much of her view was obscured by the Tower of Winds. Yet she found that though the tower itself was a familiar sight, with the spyglass she could see the windows on the upper stories far more clearly than she could from the base of the tower.
As she observed the tower windows, she thought she saw something in one of those square, dark holes glimmer with a dull light. She looked again but saw nothing. Perhaps something near the top of the tower was set to reflect the light of the sun?
Looking at it this closely, she could clearly see the effects of weather on the tower, how parts of the wall had crumbled away and the bricks themselves had begun to sag. In places, the window frames were cracked or broken, leaving torn and soiled curtains to whip dolefully in the wind.
My father is a captive in there. What did he mean when he called himself the master of the tower?
Yorda shook her head, trying to will away the sadness and doubts rising in her mind. She turned the spyglass toward the grasslands. The grass was green, and it sparkled under the sun as it swayed in the wind. She looked far, as far away as she could, wanting to see, wanting to expand her world.
Suddenly her hand stopped. She lowered the spyglass and rubbed her eyes, thinking what she had seen was some trick of the light. But when she raised the glass again, they were still there: an endless line of marching figures.
Figures of stone.
Around them, the grass shimmered from pale green to almost blue as it caught the sunlight, but the statues stayed the same, gray and unmoving. She was shocked both by their number and their condition. These people had been turned to stone long before the boat near the shore. So weathered and worn they were that they resembled people only in their silhouettes. Their equipment and clothing had worn away years ago. Were she able to walk closer, to touch them with her hand, Yorda wondered what she would see then.