“This is a perfect spot to begin,” he said.
He shrugged off his rucksack and started digging through it until he pulled out a long spool of chain and a polished metal compass. His leather-bound journal was tucked beneath his blue cloak, along with a thin stick of charcoal.
“You see, the Academy’s maps already cover this route,” he said, pointing back toward the road we’d just traveled. “But now, we’ll start mapping from here and document whatever we find.”
Caz flipped open the compass, studied it for a moment, then muttered something to himself. He scribbled a note in his journal, his smile wide and bright as he turned to me.
He began to unwind the chain from his arm. It looked delicate, but the way Caz handled it made it clear it had weight and durability. Little metal tags dotted the links, each etched with a different symbol.
I watched as he walked to the road, positioned the end of the chain at the edge of the path, and drove a pin into the ground to hold it in place.
“I want to show you something,” he said, gesturing for me to come closer. “I’m starting a ground survey. This is a surveyor’s chain.” He lifted the spool of metal links, pointing to the tags marked with symbols. “These are numbers. There are one hundred links total, and the chain stretches sixty-six paces long. Ground mapping is slow and tedious, but for accuracy, we always begin by pinning the start of the chain at our first marker. From there, we measure distanceusing the chain, and with a compass, along with a graphometer, we make sure we’re moving in a precise one-hundred-and-eighty-degree direction.”
Caz gave me an apologetic, lopsided smile. “Our technology isn’t perfect, but it’s the best we’ve got. Once we’ve gathered enough data, we plug it into a formula to calculate the area’s length and width. Then we apply a map scale to convert those measurements into the units used by the Academy’s official maps. That’s how new maps of the world are formed.”
He paused, almost sheepish. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but this is what we’ll be doing for the next three-and-a-half months.”
I frowned. “I’m not entirely sure what you just said, but it sounds like something a mapmaker would say, so I suppose I’ll trust you.”
“Exactly.” Caz winked. “Would you mind taking Bell’s reins?” He handed them to me. “We’ll mostly be walking, but we can ride her back to the inn later.”
I took the leather straps. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to stay out here and keep mapping? You’ve only got me in the mornings.”
“I need my guide,” Caz said with a playful grin. “But really, you’d be surprised how much calculation and documentation goes into mapmaking. I’ll need time to record everything. Besides, it gets unbearably hot by midday. A change of scenery doesn’t hurt.”
I raised my hands in surrender. “Alright, scholar. My services are at your command.”
“Westward we go!” Caz declared, tossing his head toward the woods and marching ahead, the chain slowly unwinding behind him.
I trailed behind with Bellona, my expression caught somewhere between admiration and disbelief. It was going to be a long three-and-a-half months, and already, some part of me wished it would last longer.
16
“We made a lot of progress today,”Caz said, finishing the last of his supper, which was a meager portion of barley, leek, and mutton. “I’ve got a lot of data to go through and record. Most of today’s journey took us through the woods, but you said there are rivers and streams in the forest too, right?”
“That’s right. We didn’t go far enough to reach them, but I’m sure we’ll get there in time,” I answered.
“I might need to borrow you for longer some days, if that’s the case. I’ll have a word with Griffin. He mentioned he was looking for extra help, maybe someone could cover a few lunch shifts.”
“Maybe,” I said, wiping down the bar top.
Caz cleared his throat and adjusted the collar of his tunic. “Oh, and Odessa?”
“Yes?” I looked at him.
“I, uh… just wanted to thank you. For earlier in the woods. Like I said, I get so wrapped up in exploring and learning that I forget to think things through sometimes.”
“It’s alright.” I gave him a faint, knowing smile. “That’s what you hired me for.”
Caz was referring to when we’d been walking through the forest earlier and passed a grove of bright, speckled mushrooms. He’d called themfungi, or at least, that’s what he said a Scholar of Herbology had once told him. Caz had gotten so excited he rushed straight toward them, eager to collect samples for his peer. I nearly had to tackle him. The mushrooms were dangerously poisonous, whether ingested or absorbed through the skin.
I warned him quickly:Stay clear of mushrooms with white gills, a ring around the stem, or those with a swollen, sack-like bottom.
I remembered how my mother used to sit me down as a child and make me memorize which plants and wildlife were safe to touch, eat, or play with. She’d always worry when I vanished for chimes, pretending to be a queen ruling over her woodland kingdom.
“Anyway,” Caz said, a flush creeping into his cheeks. “Thanks for the meal.” He tapped his empty tray, not a scrap left, and handed me six coppers and a half-penny. “Here’s payment for you and my portion for the inn. And if you’re still up for it, you can swing by my room. I still owe you that reading lesson.”
Now it was my turn to flush. I wasn’t sure if his suggestion was sincere, or if there was something else behind his tone. Before I started working at the inn, I’d heard about places where barmaids were expected to do more than just serve food and drink. I’d made sure Griffin knew my stance on that from the beginning. Some girls made extra coin by entertaining patrons, but that was never a life I wanted.
