Tower of Nebrask; someone once occupied the islands. Had it been the Azteks?
They would not speak of Nebrask, only to call it an abomination. So far, their records provide no insight. They used an acid made from local plants to fight the chalklings that tried to gain a foothold in their lands, and they accepted refugees from the islands, but they themselves did not explore northward. Of those purported refugees—now some five hundred years integrated into Aztek culture—their stories are completely oral, and have deteriorated over time. They tell legends and speak of terrible horrors, of bad luck and omens, and of nations slaughtered. But they give no details, and each story seems to contradict its fellows.
Early North American explorers do say they happened across an occasional native on the isles. Indeed, many of the names of the islands and cities they bear come from such early reports. Once again, questions pile atop one another. Were these natives Azteks, or the remnants of some other culture? If some peoples had lived on the isles, as Aztek legends claim, what happened to the signs of their cities and towns?
Some of the early settlers reported feeling an almost eerie emptiness to the isles. A haunted, troubling stillness. We can only conclude that there must be some truth to Aztek stories—that the peoples who lived here before us were driven southward. Either that or destroyed by the wild chalklings, as we almost were.
In this author’s opinion, the Estevez report seems the most trustworthy and accurately dated of all the early European chalkling sightings, even if it is disturbing in concept.
Joel slid the book closed, leaning his head back against the wall and rubbing his eyes with the fingers of one hand. He knew about the Estevez report—he’d just read of it in another book. It spoke of a group of Spanish explorers searching for gold who had crossed into a strange, narrow canyon on one of the southwestern isles—Bonneville or Zona Arida or something like that.
These explorers—led by Manuel Estevez—had found a group of small, human-shaped pictures on the canyon walls. Primitive figures, like one might find in caves left by long-ago inhabitants.
The explorers had camped there for the night, enjoying the quiet stream and shelter from the winds. However, not long after sunset, they reported that the pictures on the walls began to dance and move.
Estevez himself had described the drawings in great detail. Most importantly, he had insisted that the drawings weren’t scratched or carved, but instead drawn in a whitish, chalky substance. He had even done drawings of the figures and put them in his log, which survived to the present day.
“Joel, lad,” Fitch said, “you look exhausted.”
Joel blinked, looking up. Fitch sat at his desk, and from the dark circles under his eyes, Joel figured the man must feel at least twice as tired as Joel did. “I’m all right,” Joel said, battling a yawn.
Fitch didn’t look convinced. The two of them had spent the past week searching through tome after tome. Fitch mostly assigned Joel the historical books, as the high-level texts were simply beyond Joel’s abilities. Joel intended to learn and to study until he could figure out those books. For the moment, it was better for him to focus on other subjects.
Inspector Harding was pursuing the investigation to track down the kidnapper. That wasn’t a job for Joel and Fitch; they were scholars. Or, well, Fitch was. Joel still wasn’t certain what he himself was. Other than tired, of course.
“Anything of note in that book?” Fitch asked hopefully.
Joel shook his head. “It mostly talks about other reports and comments on their validity. It is a fairly easy read. I’ll keep going and see if there’s anything useful.”
Fitch was convinced that if there were other Rithmatic lines, there would be mentions of them in such records. Drawings, like Estevez had done, lost in time but now suddenly relevant.
“Hey,” Joel said, noticing what Fitch was reading, “are those my notes about the census reports?”
“Hum? Oh, yes. I never did get a chance to go over these.”
“You probably don’t need to worry about it now. I doubt those death records will be all that helpful.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Fitch said, leafing through the pages. “Perhaps this isn’t the first time events like the ones here have occurred. What if there were other such disappearances, but they were so isolated that they were never connected? We just…”
He trailed off, holding up one of the sheets.
“What?” Joel asked. “Did you find