Approaching the ruins seemed to take hours. The dark spot on the horizon stayed small, and to Isa’s eyes, inscrutable. Dockma had marked the spot on her map and said it was a good shelter from the wind. But was it really safe? Might the stones and timbers rotten with age fall around their ears? Who had made the ruins anyway? If Dockma knew, she hadn’t said.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” she muttered to herself. Think about all the places you’ve lived in your life. What did you know about any of them, and you’re gonna split hairs over a place to rest for one night?

But something felt strange to Isa. Something gnawed at the edge of her stomach as they moved down the road. She couldn’t name it, and part of her might have dismissed it as foolishness - the rational part of her, the Portland part, the part that didn’t believe in magic. But it was there all the same. Excitement or fear, or maybe a cocktail of the two. She glanced at the others, wondering if at least Alice felt the same. They were, after all, from the same place so presumably they would be having the same reaction to the situation.

Alice had a grim look on her face, a determined look. It reminded Isa of her mother’s expression when they’d be stuck in a traffic jam. No way out; can’t turn back. The only way was through. She had Isa’s cloak wrapped tightly around herself like a hug. Alice’s cloak was draped across the back of Lund’s pack to air dry.

The ruins came into sharper focus suddenly, as if Isa were adjusting a pair of binoculars. She could see a ramp that sloped down to the structure like a driveway. The left wall of the building stood intact. To the right of the ramp there were what looked like the remains of a building: rubble piled on a mound of sand. The back wall was missing a few stones - on purpose or by accident it was impossible to say at this distance, and maybe impossible to judge up close. What did Isa know about stone work?

The road was wide and the land flat. Even if they’d wanted to approach with stealth that would be easier said than done. “Let’s assume that they’re friendly,” said Lund. “Let’s assume that they are just like us.”

“And what would I be doing if 4 armed people were making for my camp?” Mery replied, but Lund didn’t answer.

Isa shaded her eyes against the afternoon sun. “I don’t see anybody. Maybe they are out foraging or hunting?”

“Maybe,” said Mery. “Or maybe they are positioned to strike at us from the shadows.”

“Stay here,” Lund put his hand out at his hip, as if to check their movement. He stepped forward.

“No way,” said Isa. She gripped her staff and trotted to catch up with him. She resisted the urge to say “Stay here” to Alice and Mery. They might listen about as well as Isa had.

When she and Lund were about 50 yards from the ramp, he stopped and raised his right hand. “We’re travelers looking for shelter for the night. We mean no harm.”

“The smoke--”

“Wait,” Lund said quietly, and Isa could feel the tension in him, feel that he was a rubberband ready to snap. She’d wanted to mention that the smoke looked almost white up close and that it didn’t smell like smoke. Was it an illusion? Why would someone do that? How would someone do that?

The hair on the back of Isa’s neck stood up. “It’s a trap,” Isa said through clenched teeth.

“What?” Lund spared a glance at her.

“Trap.” When he didn’t react properly she repeated herself: “It’s a trap.”

A shadow flitted across her face, and Isa tilted her head to see Peck flying above them. When she lowered her gaze again Isa scanned the ground for traps. It all looked fine. How could she be sure? “Let me go first at least,” said Isa. With her staff in front of her like a cane, Isa stepped forward, sweeping the end of her staff low and tapping the ground every few feet. Peck cawed overhead as if approving of Isa’s prudence.

At the bottom of the ramp was the damaged wall. To the right, open air and sky. To the left the wall ended in a dim opening. In the recesses of the area Isa saw the fire flicker. Faint daylight shone through from a break in the ceiling illuminating a spot by the fire. “Hello? Anyone here? We won’t hurt you.” She started to step into the area, but Lund dropped his hand on her shoulder. The touch almost made Isa shout with fear.

“Mmm,” he murmured, and Isa took it to mean Stop. Don’t move.

She did as he asked, but Isa let her eyes roam over the room. It was maybe a 12 foot square area. It would have been a true room except that the far left wall was missing. Where the walls came together a large chunk of masonry was missing. It had created a large enough opening that even Lund, if he crouched and turned sideways, would be able to navigate. Maybe whoever had lit the fire had slipped out that way.

The small fire burned low, but a small stack of sticks sat piled nearby. Someone had hoped to spend the night - at least - in this shelter. No sign of bags or packs, no food or pans, so whoever had been here had left.

Isa turned to go back toward the ramp. This couldn’t be the only structure. Surely there was more to this ruins than one room, mostly intact. She bumped into Lund who was standing squarely behind her. “Empty,” she whispered to him. He kept his eyes forward, intent on the room. “Huh,” he replied.

Why the ramp, Isa asked herself. What purpose did it serve? Maybe it was an accident. Maybe the sands had shifted over time, blowing unevenly thanks to the standing structures. But it hadn’t had the give of regular sand. No, the ramp had seemed solid, purposeful, built to handle heavy loads coming or going.

Isa stared at the sand pile opposite the wall. If you wanted to unload heavy carts, say, if you were, perhaps, building something complex and dangerous, you might choose the desert. But could one person do this? Clear the sand, build the foundations, erect the walls?

Why had she started this odd train of thought? Focus on what matters, she told herself. Shelter for tonight and traveling tomorrow. As she turned back toward the room an etched rock caught her eye. At the base of the wall one stone had a small drawing. It looked like a U with a line coming straight up from the middle. The straight mark had a small squiggle on each side. Possibly it was a crude sailboat with 2 sails. It might have been a flower in a pot. Isa made a note to look more closely in the strong light of morning.

Isa walked up the ramp and scanned the empty road. Where had Alice and Mery gone?