“While admirable,” Ria began, “it… pardon me for a moment.”
The queen’s eyes closed once more. Apparently Tivan was relaying another message.
“Her terms are acceptable,” Ria announced. “My husband has spoken. He has agreed to Lady Sarah’s terms. However, since the Fae are incapable of telling a lie, I should also inform you that we were already prepared to do just that.”
“Oh.”
“Should you and your husband prove to be successful in restoring our Tree to full health, we will commence negotiations at once.”
“Negotiations for what?” Steve wanted to know. “If you’re brokering a peace treaty then what details need to be worked out? I mean, all you have to do is admit that each side is better off working together rather than separately.”
“If only it were that simple,” came Ria’s response.
Sarah, still holding her husband’s hand, pulled him next to her.
“Very well, your majesties. Steve and I hereby promise to do what we can in order to save your tree.”
“We will be forever grateful for your assistance,” Ria formally answered. “Regardless of the outcome, let it be known our human friends have been more than accommodating in our time of need.”
Bidding their farewells, husband and wife slowly retraced their steps back to the glittering amethyst doors. Steve pulled Sarah to a stop.
“Did they answer the question?”
“What question?”
“Are the Kri’yans allowed to give us help in solving this dilemma?”
Sarah paled, “Damn. I forgot to ask.”
Steve started to chortle when Sarah shot him a dangerous look.
“You forgot to ask, too, so don’t get cocky.”
“You’re the teleporter,” Steve pointed out. “Just go back and ask them.”
“I’d feel foolish teleporting back in there unannounced. You go ask.”
“No way.”
Sarah held up a fist, challenging him to do the same. With a sigh, Steve curled his fingers into a fist and held it up.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with. One… two… three. Damn. I should’ve known. I’ll be right back.”
Chapter 4 – Sorcerer’s Apprentice
“They said we can help?” Kri’Entu asked hopefully. “The Fae king and queen are allowing us to aid in your quest? This is most excellent news, Lady Sarah.”
“That’s not what I said,” Sarah hastily reminded the king. “I said they never specifically said one way or the other.”
“But you informed King Tivan about my desire to help, did you not?”
Steve raised a hand, “I did, yeah.”
Kri’Entu’s eyes shifted to Steve’s.
“And he didn’t immediately forbid it?”
“Well, no,” Steve hesitantly admitted. “But he…”
“Then it’s settled,” Kri’Entu decided. “I’m not ashamed to say this news pleases me greatly. Very well. What do we have to do?”
Sarah looked helplessly at the queen. Ny’Callé turned to her husband and laid a reassuring hand on the king’s arm.
“My love, this task is theirs. While it is true the Fae king did not forbid you from interfering, I really do think this is something Lady Sarah and Sir Steve should be doing themselves.”
“Tell you what,” Steve hastily interjected as he noticed the frown forming on the king’s face, “if we are stymied by anything and need your assistance then we’ll definitely ask for your help.”
Sighing dejectedly, the king nodded his head and sank back down into his chair. Kri’Entu was quiet a few moments before he turned to Sarah.
“If there is something I can do, anything, then you are to let me know as soon as possible. Agreed?”
Sarah nodded, “Agreed.”
“What do you have to do?” the king asked, curious. “Are you allowed to tell us?”
“We have to find a rare flower,” Sarah answered. “Apparently there are only three left somewhere in Lentari.”
“A flower?” the king asked, cocking his head slightly to the left. “Allow me to venture a guess. The pontal’s whereabouts are unknown.”
“Naturally,” Steve agreed.
“And you were given no clue how to find it?”
Steve nodded, “You’re two for two.”
“That’s all the Fae need? This one flower? That really doesn’t sound too bad.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Sarah agreed. “And that’s what scares me most of all. What if we can’t find it? The Fae and the humans won’t ever be friends again.”
“The Fae and the humans haven’t been friends for a very long time now,” Kri’Entu reminded her with a smile. “If the mission fails then we’ll be no worse off than we were before.”
Sarah groaned, “That’s reassuring.”
Kri’Entu gave her a fleeting smile, “That’s not what I meant by that, Lady Sarah. The Fae have lived their lives away from human influence for centuries. While not ideal, I’m sure we would be given another chance sometime in the foreseeable future.”
“Umm, except they’ll be dead,” Steve pointed out.
Kri’Entu’s head lifted. Alarmed, he glanced at Steve.
“The lives of the Fae rest with the success of this quest?”
Steve shrugged, “That’s one way to look at it.”
Kri’Entu looked at the queen and gave her a look of sheer defiance.
“I will not allow the Fae to perish, not when there’s a chance that working together could possibly save their lives. If the Fae disagree then they can continue to live their lives in isolation. I can live with that decision.”
Surprisingly, the queen nodded, “I concur. While unfortunate, the Fae were once our allies. How can we, as a compassionate, civilized species look the other way when someone needs our help?”
Steve took Sarah’s hand in his own and held it tightly.
“They asked you for help, babe. This is your show. What do you want to do?”
“I will not let them die, either,” Sarah vowed. “Not when they only have a day or two left.”
Emboldened, Kri’Entu motioned for everyone to follow him over to his desk. He, the queen, Sarah, and Steve all huddled around the king’s private desk. His voice dropped as he addressed Sarah.
“This flower. Once you find it, what then? What has to happen?”
“Ria only said that the flower must be processed and that it has to happen within an hour of being harvested.”
“Thankfully your jhorun will allow you to return the flower to the Fae queen well within those parameters,” the king observed.
“It is part of the reason why they asked me to help,” Sarah confirmed.
“Without knowing where this flower is,” Ny’Callé quietly whispered, “I would suggest the two of you begin your search in the north wing.”
Kri’Entu nodded, “Our Archives are unparalleled. If this flower exists then it will be catalogued somewhere within its shelves. I will inform Miss Alwyn to be expecting you and that you are to have complete access to anything you require.”
Sarah nodded appreciatively, “Thank you. Hon, we should get going. We’ll let you know if we find anything.”
****
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before,” Steve admitted less than an hour later. “In fact, I didn’t even know this was here.”
Husband and wife were standing just inside the large open archway leading into the Archives, located in the castle’s entire north wing. The polished marble of the castle’s hallways had changed to smooth slate stones lining the floor of the doorway and extending through a second arch into a much larger multi-floored chamber. Situated just inside the first archway was a large wooden desk that had seen better days. Scratches, dents, and even several small burns could be seen hiding beneath an assortment of clutter on the surface of the large desk.
Sitting behind the desk, peering suspiciously at them from between two rather large stacks of small slips of p
aper, was a tiny old lady with frizzy white hair. She was wearing a thick rimless pair of square nose spectacles and a long white robe with purple butterflies festooned all across it. The old lady’s arms were crossed and she wore a scowl on her wrinkly face. Her nose was scrunched up, as though she were either squinting at them or else was trying to keep her glasses from sliding off her nose.
“Alrighty,” Steve softly whispered as he pulled Sarah close, “that’s a look that should strike fear in the hearts of children everywhere.”
“Hush,” Sarah scolded. “She’ll hear you.”
“You’re the Nohrin,” the tiny frail lady announced, as though she were helping the two of them out by reminding them who they were. “I am Andra Alwyn, head of the Archives. I was instructed to make available all areas of my precious Archives for you and your research.”
“Great,” Steve smiled as he patted his wife’s hand reassuringly. “We really app…”
“I wasn’t finished,” Andra coldly interrupted. “I may have to open my Archives to two unregistered, inexperienced visitors but I don’t have to like it. You take care when you handle the books and documents in my collection. You treat them with the same care and respect that you would if they belonged to you, is that understood? Just imagine. His majesty allowing visitors full access. He must be losing his mind.”
Sarah noticed her husband had crossed his arms and was scowling. She quickly decided to intervene before he could undoubtedly further annoy the tiny head of the Archives. She stepped in front of Steve and adopted the friendliest smile she could muster.
“Don’t you worry, Mrs. Alwyn,” Sarah soothed as she tried to infuse as much kindness to her voice as she could. “We’ll treat everything here as though it was worth its weight in gold.”
“It is worth its weight in gold,” Andra snapped. “And you may address me as Miss Andra Alwyn.”
“There’s a shocker,” Steve muttered, deliberately keeping his voice loud enough to be certain Andra heard him.
Andra returned Steve’s scowl with an equal amount of malice. Sarah frowned. Her patience with the cantankerous old hag had just run out. No one scowled at her husband but her.
“Well, as much fun as this has been, we have work to do. You have yourself a good day.”
“I haven’t finished explaining the rules,” Andra snapped.
“Noted,” Sarah coolly told the archivist. “We’ll be careful and we’ll be on our way. Have a nice day.”
The wizened old lady stepped in front of Sarah as she started to walk by the desk on her way to the large chamber they could all see through the second archway. Andra puffed out her chest to try and look intimidating.
“No one touches my Archives without my permission.”
“Except the king,” Steve mused, in a loud voice.
“Except for the king,” Andra reluctantly admitted, “and he’s not here.”
“We’re here under his orders,” Sarah smoothly told the quietly fuming archivist as she side-stepped around her. “Again, have yourself a nice day.”
They entered the main floor of the Archives and looked around. They were in a huge atrium that had neatly lined up tables and chairs everywhere. Wherever they looked they could see wall to wall books. Huge tomes, many times the size of the largest encyclopedia she had ever seen, were on the racks to her left. Sarah looked straight ahead and saw racks with the exact same book on it. Or, she figured, they could be multiple volumes in a series. Liking that explanation better, Sarah nodded. One series spanned several cases. Each book was the same width, had the same dull green spine, and had gold lettering identifying what the title was. As good as her vision was, she couldn’t make out the titles.
Off to her right were the rest of Lentari’s vast collection of books. Wall after wall, rack after rack, the floor she was standing on had to have at least five thousand titles, if not more. Sarah looked up. The ceiling rose at least thirty feet above her head. She could see that the second floor contained even more racks and cases, but the majority of these were not books but stacks of papers, loosely bound bundles of parchment, and the like. They could also see that the second floor stretched out and away from the atrium itself. Sarah could only imagine how far back the racks must extend.
Steve slowly spun in place. He grunted with frustration.
“What?” Sarah wanted to know. “What’s the matter? We finally got away from that horrible old lady. I thought you’d be happy.”
“Happy? Do you see a computer in here? How the hell are we supposed to find anything? We could search for days and not make a dent.”
Sarah hesitated, got an evil gleam in her eye, and cleared her throat.
“Mrs. Alwyn? Would you come here for a moment, please?”
“You deliberately called that crone ‘Mrs.’?” Steve quietly asked. “Ballsy. Stupid, but ballsy.”
Sarah grinned at her husband, “Trust me, I know what I’m doing. Women know how to seriously aggravate other women without openly admitting to doing anything. Watch and learn, dear.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “I know you’re listening, Mrs. Alwyn. We need your help. I really don’t want to go back to the king and tell him you were being uncooperative.”
The tiny archivist stepped out from behind a rack of books. Her hands were repeatedly clenching and unclenching. She glared at Sarah and waited, expectantly. Sarah looked over at Andra and gave a little jump, as though she had been startled.
“Ah! There you are. Alright, here’s what we need. We’re looking for a very specific flower called an orbsceia. We don’t know where…”
“There’s no such flower,” Andra flatly stated.
“Oh, but there is,” Sarah contradicted. “There are three out there. I need to know where to look. Kri’Entu says that the Archives have everything we’d need to locate that flower. Let’s find out, shall we? Now, where should we look first?”
Andra reached into her robe’s pocket and withdrew a small slip of paper.
“You’ll need to fill this out to make it official.”
“Why don’t you fill it out?” Steve suggested, keeping his voice firm but neutral. “You’d know what we’re looking for, right? Thank you in advance for your understanding.”
Andra’s lips thinned as she scowled at Steve. The slip of paper was returned to her pocket. Grumbling to herself Andra disappeared into the shadows. Fifteen minutes later Steve pulled a couple of tables together and spread out the myriad of selections Andra had pulled from her collection of books. Books of varying size, covering everything from basic horticulture to hand-raising exotic orchids to a few titles covering ‘plummon’, the Lentarian equivalent of creating exquisite floral arrangements, had been plunked down on their tables.
Sarah pulled a chair over to the closest stack of books and began to sort through the titles. She watched her husband pull a chair next to hers and do the same. Thirty minutes later Sarah knew they were in trouble. There simply wasn’t any mention of an ‘orbsceia’ anywhere. On top of which, a new problem had manifested. A crowd of onlookers had formed and was growing steadily larger. Sarah gave Steve a worried look and quickly glanced at the crowd of people that were edging closer.
“We need to do something about this,” she whispered. “It’s getting out of control.”
“I’ll handle this,” Steve assured her.
“How?”
“Like this.”
Steve slid over one of the small slips of paper that Andra had deliberately left on their table, flipped it over, and composed a short message. He folded it in half and gave it to a nearby guard whom he was certain had been tasked with keeping an eye on them.
“Give that to the king, would you?” Steve quietly told the soldier.
The young guard nodded and disappeared.
“What did you say?”
“I asked him to give that to the king.”
“I know, I heard you. I meant the message. What did you say?”
“The king wants to help. I sent him our fi
rst request.”
“Which was?” Sarah prompted.
“Privacy.”
“Nice.”
Thirty seconds later a half-dozen guards had appeared and quickly escorted everyone from the Archives. Everyone but the ever popular archivist, of course. Steve waved at her from her position in the front entryway. She didn’t wave back. Just then another guard appeared and hooked his arm through the elderly woman’s own arm and gently pulled her away.
“Unhand me this instant, you simpleton. No one manhandles me in my own Archives.”
A second guard appeared and took Ms. Alwyn’s other arm. They effortlessly hoisted her up and exited the room. The old woman’s cries of indignation eventually faded away, leaving the huge chamber eerily devoid of all noise. Sarah smiled at her husband.
“Nicely done. I wish I would have thought to do that.”
“That lady needed a reality check,” Steve muttered darkly as he returned his attention to a stack of books before him. He selected one from the stack and opened it. “Someone needed to tell her that she’s not the grand-high poobah of the universe.”
“I don’t think we’ll be able to count her as an admirer of ours,” Sarah mused, selecting her own book. “I’m sure she’s complaining – bitterly – to the king right about now.”
“Let her. Grouch.”
For the next several hours the cantankerous elderly record keeper made a point of walking by their table to spy on their progress. First it was a well-timed act of clumsiness. Several large tomes fell to the ground with a large bang. Echoes of the impact bounced noisily around the quiet room for nearly ten seconds before fading back into silence. Both husband and wife had looked over at the tiny woman who was taking her time retrieving her books from the ground.
“Whoops. Clumsy me.”
“Perhaps you should have more care with your precious books,” Steve instantly quipped. “After all, didn’t you say that they were worth their weight in gold? You have a funny way of showing it.”
Close Encounters of the Magical Kind Page 7