is the only copy. The information is years old, but nothing much ever changes in Almaaz. I hate to part with it, but I need this sale to pay for my uncle's sixteen days of requiem. Mourners are expensive."
"This must have taken months…" breathed Cheyne as he traced a finger over the gilded compass rose. Claria smiled and nodded, placed weights on each corner, then laid a piece of purple string across a possible route for them around the western erg, down through the grasslands and then over the mountains. "A long and dangerous journey, Cheyne. What you seek must be very important."
"More dangerous than you guess," mumbled Og, tracing his own route. "We'll have to go through here and there also." His dirty finger tapped first on the Wyrvil territory and then another area where Claria had skirted for a much longer, but far safer, way.
"How can you go directly through ore country, Muje Rifkin? You have chosen the old caravan route-it is illegal to travel that way now. You will surely never return," she argued, wincing at the dark smudges he had made on the clean parchment.
"We're in a hurry. I, uh, have old connections along the route. I think we can pass unharmed for the most part."
"For the most part?" Cheyne turned to Og, who continued to stare at the map. "What do you mean?"
"Don't concern yourself. We'll take it. Please pay her. We really must be going," Og decided, trying to remember where the closest raqa stall was in this part of town. Should be near the tanner's. They shared certain of the same curing processes.
Cheyne stared at the map for a long moment. The route Og had chosen looked to be weeks, if not months, shorter. Cheyne did not have the resources for an extended journey. And perhaps, if he retraced the old caravan route, something might look familiar enough to jar his memory. "The route is illegal now, you say?"