Read The Farwalker's Quest for Free Online

person who was meant to receive it could make it work.”
    â€œHow could a metal stick know the difference?” Ariel asked.
    The Storian smiled sadly. “How I wish I could tell you in detail. Particularly since you show less than avid interest in most of our lessons. But you’ve seen the luminescence in the sea at night, yes?”
    Ariel nodded. She loved to stir the dark water and watch the sparks dance. Some nights the entire sea glowed.
    â€œImagine those sparkles not just in the sea or fixed in the night sky, but in and surrounding us all. Those before the Blind War learned to harness this Essence, which shimmers in everything, living and earthen. Your Essence tells who you are, and the darts use it—or they did, before the old things began running down. I would never have guessed a dart might still be working. But it would be blank if it weren’t.”
    Ariel mashed her lips between her teeth. Should they tell him it had been in Zeke’s tree only a few fortnights?
    Before she could decide, Storian shook his head. “Since it’s been broken, however, it likely won’t open at all. They made them that way to stop people from forcing darts that weren’t sent to them.”
    â€œWas this sent to you?” Ariel asked. Who else but a Storian would know how to use it?
    Zeke didn’t wait for an answer. “What’s the outside message say?”
    Storian studied them, debate plain on his face. “Well, let’s see,” he said. “Even I may not remember some of the symbols.”
    Ariel didn’t believe him. Not much of a liar, the Storian clearly did not want to tell them.
    He tapped the smooth part of the shaft nearest the blunt end, above all the scored lines. “The mark of whoever sent it usually goes here.”
    â€œIt’s blank.” Zeke sounded angry.
    â€œI’m afraid so.”
    â€œDid everyone have their own symbol?” Ariel asked. “How could you know them all?”
    â€œOh, you couldn’t,” Storian said. “But each would be a trade mark, with a few changes to make it unique. You’d recognize the marks of your neighbors and friends, and even if you didn’t,you’d know the dart came from some Storian or Healtouch, for instance. The sender’s mark on this one probably wore off. Because it’s so old.”
    â€œThat lie was easy to spot,” Ariel thought. The dart itself may have been old, but it had flown into Zeke’s tree quite recently, so it must have been sent recently, too.
    Storian’s finger slid down through the most mysterious scratches in the middle. “This,” he said slowly, “is a sort of invitation. To … it might be a party.”
    Zeke grunted. Wanting to elbow him to be quiet, Ariel pushed a cheerful grin to her lips. Did the Storian really think she and Zeke were that thick? That was the part of the message where themark spoke of danger, not just once now, but twice.
    â€œFun,” she said, hoping the rest of Storian’s fibs would be equally obvious.
    He hastily showed the trade marks near the broken tip. “Those tell who else was invited. You know those.”
    Ariel craned her neck for a final glimpse as he rewrapped the dart with the cloth. If his last words were true, the person who sent it had a friend in every one of the trades—until this morning, at least. It was possible, she supposed. But while Canberra Docks had more than its share of Fishers, she’d never met a Finder or Judge. And despite her friendship with Zeke, she knew Tree-Singers were rare.
    â€œWhat about that first mark, below the blank part?” she asked, thinking of the lightning bolt.
    â€œOh, that shows who it was sent to.” The Storian tucked the bundle into his vest. “Since we have two visitors here to collect it, I suppose that mark is for them. I’m not certain.”
    â€œSure,” Ariel thought, “if they were