Tyrus Bible Map Novels & Stories

"He is settled." Blackwheel watched as Sophia brought a map from get wardrobe and spread it on top of a board that was lying freely on the ground. She brought some pins and told Alberto to use it to join the map with the board. Then she brought a small book and sat down on the floor. A pen was on her teeth. "Philadelphia is here," Sophia said, pointing at a location in the map that was hidden inside the giant continent of North America. "I can see Philadelphia," Blackwheel affirmed. "But it looks small. Like an egg."

They didn't look like any of the pack elders. What could Tyra be doing here? She is banned from entering this place. Maybe I was mistaken. It was dark after all. I pressed myself against the cold wall until they were out of sight. I didn't have any time to waste. I pushed into the library, my heart hammering against my chest. I headed straight to the geographical section, scanning the shelves as fast as possible There! The maps were at the top of the shelves. I recognized the leather wrappings that covered them. I dragged the maps out as the dust in them filled my nose.

“One of the ones Erebus gutted. It was stuffed in the lining of his boot, wrapped in oilcloth.” I set it on the table in front of us and pulled the sleeve open, the pungent smell of blood and old leather hitting me immediately. Inside was a folded, weathered map. When I opened it, my breath caught. It was a layout of Silverclaw territory. But not just any layout. This wasn’t the modern terrain most packs had access to. This was old. Annotated with coded notes and hand-sketched marks—supply routes, border gaps, and… there it was. My eyes narrowed.

Darius was lying on his stomach nearby, flipping through a stack of old maps, though from the bored expression on his face, he might as well have been reading a soup recipe. Luka sat in the armchair opposite Theoden, one leg crossed over the other, nursing a cup of herbal tea. He was reading slowly through a worn, leather-bound journal that looked like it might disintegrate with one wrong breath. “Alright,” Darius said suddenly, holding up one of the maps. “Tell me this isn’t just a drawing of someone’s really confused attempt at a potato.” Selene glanced over. “It’s a depiction of the pre-split territories before the northern collapse.”

Sera crossed to the table and swept the ledgers aside until she found the one she wanted, the map beneath them, the old vellum sheet of the southern reaches that she had glanced at a dozen times without ever truly reading. Now she read it the way Caius would. Not as land. As joints. "Show me the road," she said.