A shadow fell across his mother's face. Ajax assumed she was reflecting back on when Axel, his brother, took his oath.
Noticing her son watching her, she forced a smiled. “I am certain you'll do fine,” his mother remarked and then walked out of the room.
He finished his breakfast and rinsed his plate before departing for the palace.
The road was uninhabited as he headed the couple of miles to the castle. Around every bend and twist in the road he felt his stomach tense up with the anticipation that he might see Nivara again. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed their friendship. But bumping into her yesterday had reminded him of how much they had shared growing up together. And how alone he had felt these last two years.
A wagon passed him on the road, full of bright red apples. Probably the last of the season. The driver slowed his team and offered to give Ajax a lift, but the sun was shining and there wouldn't be too many more pleasant days before the cold set in, so he declined.
Sir Thomas waved Ajax through the gate when he approached. He seemed to be in an argument with another knight about what time they were supposed to exchange posts, so Ajax didn’t stop to offer pleasantries.
The courtyards were livelier today than they had been the day before. Ajax noticed several new carriages by the stables, and servants were carrying in trunks along with various personal effects into the palace.
There were ladies strolling through the gardens with their parasols, along with a few gentlemen. All the people made Ajax nervous. Everyone was dressed in fine linens, nicer than he ever would possess. He felt out of place and skirted around to find the entrance that Sir Thomas had told him about.
After walking around the perimeter for about thirty minutes, he found a plain-looking door in a little crevice of the castle. The other entrances he had passed were all more ornate and fancy looking. This had to be the access the common folk used to enter.
The doorway in front of him was still very nice. It was wooden, and stained a reddish tint. It had a shiny brass handle and knocker.
Ajax took a deep breath, looked around, and made two hard raps with the knocker. He felt nervous, and although there was no one in sight, he was sure if someone saw him they would think he didn't belong.
After a few moments, the door opened and a short, thin woman answered. She was older, probably in her late seventies, and the fashion in which she carried herself told Ajax she was in charge. As old as she appeared, frail was the last thing that came to his mind when he saw her. She had a tough look about her, one that led him to believe that she would not put up with any nonsense.
“Yes,” she stared expectantly.
Ajax wrung his hands together anxiously behind his back. “Good morning, ma'am,” he began slowly. “Um...My name is Ajax Maxwell, I'm—”
“I've been expecting you, Master Maxwell. Follow me,” she responded and then turned down the passage.
For someone with such small legs, she walked awfully fast.
Ajax had to almost jog to keep up with her. “I'll show you to the library. You are to stay in the room I place you in.” She stopped suddenly and stared up at him, shaking her finger at him. “The books do not leave the room.”
He nodded quickly. “Yes ma'am.”
She turned back and continued down various corridors, never slowing her step.
A beautiful stained-glass picture adorned the door to the library. It was exquisite, capturing the image of a little boy sitting on a colorful rug reading a book. It was simple yet elegant. The colors of the glass were vibrant and everything was etched in gold. The outline of the book, the title of the book, even the boy himself seemed to shimmer.
“If you can't remember the way back, tell Tack, the librarian's boy.” She pushed the door open slowly.
Ajax stood dumbstruck. The first room he stepped into was bigger than his entire house. The walls were covered with shelves of books that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The books reached so high that there were two ladders in the room that rolled on small wheels. There was a long table with a few chairs that Ajax assumed was where people read.
“This way,” she began.
“Madam Wisen!” someone called from the hallway.
Ajax's guide paused as a young maiden rushed into the room. “The butcher's here and is insisting on coming through the southeast entrance. He says it's too far for him to go all the way to the northeast entrance.”
“Is that so?” she huffed, seeming quite perturbed. She turned back to Ajax, pointing through a doorway. “Just keep going straight. You will eventually find a large desk. The librarian is expecting you.”
The old lady spun and followed the girl, muttering things she would do to the butcher that Ajax was glad his mother and her innocent ears could not hear.
Ajax stood there stunned for a moment. He had never even imagined there were this many books in the world, let alone in the palace.
He stepped forward cautiously. It felt odd for him to be here, by himself. After a few slow steps, he took a deep breath and started into a brisk stroll. Forward. All he needed to do was place one foot in front of the other. If he looked as if he belonged no one would question him.
The library was bigger than he expected and seemed to go on and on. He quickened his pace as a new sense of nervousness crept in. He tried to push it down and out of his thoughts. After all, he had the King’s permission to be here.
He peered back behind him to see how far he'd advanced and he collided with something. He crashed to the floor, books tumbling around him.
“Ajax Maxwell!” came the voice he'd recognize anywhere. “If you wished to see me again there are better ways of getting my attention. This is the second time you've knocked me to the ground,” she huffed as she stood and began to pick up the books. “If it happens again, I'll give you a walloping that shall make the one I doled out to you at the creek, look like...” She paused and tilted her head as she tried to come up with something clever. “Well I don't know, but it will be ten times worse, of that you can be assured.”
Was she teasing him? He thought he had seen her hide a smile, but he wasn't certain. He jumped to his feet quickly and assisted Nivara in picking up the rest of her novels.
“You know I had that black eye for a solid two weeks,” he reminded her.
He remembered that day well. They had been fishing. It was hot and he had teased her, saying he would push her in. She was wearing a new yellow dress that day.
He remembered feinting a splash, only a drop or two accidently landed on her new dress. Nivara was furious with him. She stood up, hit him hard with a right hook, pushed him into the creek, and broke his pole in two for good measure. Then to top it all off she had ignored him for a full month.
They had been eight at the time. Perhaps she's not teasing me after all, he thought to himself, remembering how easily she got upset.
“You deserved it.” She smirked, turning her back on him after retrieving her books from him. She strode over to a nearby table and sat down.
Unsure of what to do next, he said, “My apologies again. I will try to remember to look where I am walking from now on.”
“What are you doing here anyway?” Niv questioned, her voice curious. “Are you stalking me?”
He arched his eyebrows. “What are you doing here?” he countered.
“I love to read, and the—” she stopped herself. “No one minds if I come in here; it's normally pretty deserted. Often, it’s only me and Tack.”
Ajax desired to stay and speak to her more, but he remembered the real reason he was here. “Well, it was lovely seeing you again, Niv, but I am late meeting the librarian.”
He spun on his heels and strode quickly off in the opposite direction. He thought he heard her say something else, but he couldn't risk pausing. Niv was a friend, even if he hadn't seen her in years. And lying to her was the last thing he wanted to do. Evading her questions was his only option.
The librarian was nothing like he was
expecting. First and foremost, she was a woman. She didn't wear glasses, and didn't speak softly. All the teachers and tutors he had ever met were men with large spectacles. He assumed the librarian, a position surrounded by books and learning, would have been a male too.
“Good day, Ajax,” she called loudly as he approached.
He shrunk back and slowed his pace, taken aback by her forwardness. Normally first names were not used until at the very least introductions were made, and usually not even then. Perhaps after a few meetings, if you really got along well with the person.
“Good morning,” Ajax replied timidly. “Ajax Maxwell.”
“Well of course you are,” she smiled. “Right this way.” Her voice seemed to echo throughout the library.
She led him into a side room. It had a table with a lamp on it. There was one lone chair, and a door near the far corner of the room. It was peculiar because it had no handle or hinges that he could see. It was also round.
A circular door was something he had never seen before—it took up most of the wall.
She placed a book on the table. He had been too busy staring at the door to notice where the book came from.
“If you need anything, I'm Marybeth,” she said warmly.
He could never call her that. She had to be close to his mother's age. Referring to her by her given name would be beyond improper.
“Ma'am?” he called hesitantly.
“Marybeth,” she corrected gently.
“Ma'am...” he began again, unwilling to break such a rule of propriety. “Where does the door lead to?” he enquired.
She looked at him funny and then began to speak slowly. “Ajax dear, it leads right back out to my desk.” She pointed back the way they had approached. “Do you remember?” she probed in a booming voice.
He wasn't a moron; of course he knew where the door led that they had just entered through. “No, not that door,” he clarified. “The door in the corner,” he pointed.
Her eyes glanced to the corner and then back at him. “What door?” she asked.
“The round one.” He gestured a little, out of patience. There weren't any other doors in the room.
She patted his shoulder. “Dear, there aren't any other doors in the room. Why don't you sit down and relax?”
He looked back at the corner. Maybe he wasn't supposed to know about the door. Perhaps it was another secret, one the librarian couldn't tell. After all, he wasn't supposed to speak to others about the reason he was here.
“I'll have Tack bring you a nice glass of water,” she winked.
He decided against pursuing the matter further and took a seat at the table. The book was heavy and dense. He tried to start reading, but Marybeth lingered in the doorway, looking at him oddly.
When she noticed Ajax had caught her standing there, she disappeared swiftly through the doorway.
The book had thick pages. The cover was bound in vibrant blue material with gold letters stitched into it that read ‘The Keeper.’ He found the page with the oath easily enough. It was on gold paper in a sea of white. It wasn't as long as he had imagined.
Ajax tried to memorize it but he kept getting distracted by the round door.
Tack finally arrived with his water.
“Is there a reason the librarian speaks so loudly?” Ajax asked. “I thought only whispered voices were appropriate.”
Tack laughed. “Luckily for us we don’t have too many visitors. Marybeth will deny it, but I am pretty certain she is completely deaf in one ear.”
Ajax nodded. That made sense. He waited until Tack had departed and then the moment he was alone he went to the door.
It was perfectly round. His eyes followed around the circumference of the door, but there didn’t seem to be a single hinge. He stepped closer. There had to be a handle somewhere.
He placed his hand on the door and felt the wood. It was so smooth.
“Ajax!”
He stumbled back, nearly knocking into the table.
He looked around. Who had called his name? He glanced back at the mysterious door and then rubbed his eyes. The door had been plain before. There hadn't been any markings or decorations. Now charred into the door was the same ornate design that marked his family home.
One cautious step at a time, he made his way forward slowly. As he reached the door, he studied the burned markings. He expected to see smoke, or smell burned wood, but he experienced neither.
Taking a deep breath, he touched the door again.
This time it opened and he could hear someone calling his name through the doorway. “Ajax....Ajax.”
It wasn't as loud as before, but he was still surprised it hadn't caught anyone's attention.
He pushed the fear down inside him. Surely this was some kind of test for the portal keeper. The King wanted to see how brave Ajax was, that he wouldn't spook at the slightest sign of danger.
It was pitch black through the doorway. He tried to peer in but was unable to see anything. He puffed up his chest and tried to make himself feel brave and menacing, then took a step through the doorway.
As soon as he had entered, the door closed. The darkness faded as he noticed a torch hanging on the side of the wall.
He looked around and wondered how he could have missed this before. How had he not seen the light shining in the darkness when he was in the side room? He hoisted the torch forward and a long, winding passageway stretched before him. It was dark, but he could make his way easily with the light from the torch. He wondered who had lit it.
The tunnel walls were stone, but the floor was simply smooth dirt. His footsteps echoed softly down the corridor. He crept slowly and cautiously, uncertain where the tunnel would lead him.
He wondered if someone was going to jump out at him and startle him. Was the King waiting at the end, ready to commend him for his bravery?
The voice was still calling to him, though not as often as before. As he followed a twist down the passage, he jumped and let out a shriek as he saw a flash of movement.
Holding the torch upward he breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that it was just a small field mouse. The mouse scurried into the darkness as Ajax chuckled to himself, feeling silly. He felt as if he had been walking for hours when a light finally appeared up ahead. Several times he had almost turned back, but the voice kept beckoning him forward.
As he got closer he could see an archway chiseled out of the stone. He pressed his hand on the doorway and felt markings. Moving his torch along the door frame, he noticed the carvings were actually of animals and creatures he had never seen before and not just a simple design. Ajax paused, marveling at the detail of the workmanship. There were dragons and flying horses among the artwork. He stepped into the room and it was light inside, although Ajax couldn't find the source.
There was a place for his torch to sit just outside the room.
He examined the area expecting to find someone there, but the room appeared to have been forsaken. Cobwebs decorated the corners, and it smelled musty and stale. No one had entered this room for many years. He stepped back into the passageway. This room was a dead end; there was no other path.
Where could they have gone? he wondered. There had to have been at least one person down here. Someone had been calling his name. The voice had been less frequent and had grown softer the closer he had come to this room. Could he have missed an offshoot trail?
It was possible, although he didn't think so.
He stepped back into the alcove. It was filled with books scattered everywhere. Some were in large stacks that seemed like they might tumble over at any moment, several were sprawled out on the only table in the room, and others were strewn randomly across the floor. Ajax looked around one last time and then shrugged. He had come a long way. He might as well explore a bit.
The books were covered in layers of dust. He brushed the cover off of one and picked it up, coughing a little at the amount of powder that had flown into the air.
Clink.
Something fell to the ground. He returned the book to the table and bent down. On the ground half-covered in dust, he felt something. He picked it up, then dropped it immediately. Power surged from it. He didn't know how he knew that, but it had radiated up his entire body.
“Ajax,” someone whispered.
He spun around, expecting to see someone in the room with him but still there was no one.
He knelt down and prodded the item gently with his finger. With each touch, the power flowed up his body. Hesitantly he picked it up again. It felt strong and sturdy but not heavy. It was round. He used the sleeve of his shirt to try to clean it up the best he could.
It had to be some type of metal—it was hard and unbending. It had what looked like a letter M in the center. There were some designs attaching it to a ring of metal that connected it to a chain. On further examination the markings appeared to be vines. The medallion was about the size of his palm. On the edges of the ring were etchings, some type of design. It almost resembled a coin, although it was far too big.
He set it on the table.
“Ajax,” a voice whispered again.
He whipped around, expecting to catch someone the second time, but he was still alone. He rushed out into the corridor and looked down the path, but it was uninhabited.
“Ajax,” came the voice again.
He returned to the room and looked at the giant coin. It seemed as if the sound was coming from the medallion itself. He picked it up and listened. When nothing happened after a few minutes, he set it down.
As soon as he released it, the voice came back.
“Ajax,” it whispered, but once Ajax took possession of it again, the voice ceased.
Ajax shuddered. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and goosebumps appeared on his arms. An eerie feeling was beginning to build up inside of him.
He set the medallion on the table, and the voice whispered his name again.
The Portal Keeper Page 3