Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3

by Hayden, David Alastair

  The guardian walked toward the warehouse. “Follow me.”

  He led them to the edge of the village where a group of men in heavy winter clothing met them. The men bowed before the guardian.

  “These men will see that your mounts are cared for,” said the Keeper of the Shores. “Your effects will be brought up if the Great Librarian allows you to stay. No harm will come to your things, and nothing will be stolen. If your cause is not accepted and you are executed, your things shall be donated to the villagers.”

  Turesobei and his companions dismounted, and the men silently took the mounts.

  “What about our weapons?” Iniru asked. “Should we leave them behind?”

  “I have no concern for any weapons you carry,” the guardian told her. “None here will. But the Great Librarian and my brethren might consider the presence of weapons to be impolite.”

  And so, they also handed over their weapons to the villagers.

  “Thank you,” Turesobei told the men. The men nodded in acknowledgement, but said nothing as they left with the mounts.

  “The humans who live in the village,” said Turesobei, “are they allowed in the library?”

  “No one has been allowed inside except those of us who guard it in seven centuries. And the last three people we did allow in, we executed within a day.”

  “Did they try to steal something?” Zaiporo ventured.

  “No,” the guardian replied casually. “After reflection, the Great Librarian decided their causes lacked sufficient merit.”

  Everyone tensed; worry knotted in Turesobei’s stomach. The Keeper of the Shores wasn’t the least concerned about the yomon. If the Great Librarian rejected their cause and they had to fight their way out, would even the Storm Dragon be enough?

  Motekeru lifted Kurine and cradled her in his arms.

  “We are ready,” Turesobei said.

  Enashoma tugged his sleeve. “Sobei, don’t you think you maybe should ask Narbenu and Kemsu if they want to risk their lives by entering the library? It might be better for them to buy passage out on one of the trade ships. They could make their way past the yomon safely. The yomon wouldn’t even know, and they wouldn’t care about them. Awasa only wants you.”

  “Could these two goronku leave the island on one of the ships?” Turesobei asked the guardian. “It’s not too late for them to leave, is it?”

  “The commitment is made once you step foot in the library. There will be no going back after that point.”

  “I’m not turning back now,” Kemsu said. “I didn’t come this far for nothing.”

  “And what if I say otherwise?” Narbenu asked.

  “Say otherwise all you want,” Kemsu replied, facing his master. “I’m going forward. Turesobei will see us through this, right? That’s what everyone always says anyway. Besides, I’m not leaving Kurine. She’s my oldest friend, and they might have to take her to their world. I’m not going to let her be the only goronku there.”

  Lips pinched tightly together, Narbenu nodded. “I can respect that, even if I don’t like your insolence. Do not forget you belong to me still.” With a sigh, Narbenu relaxed his posture. “But it doesn’t matter, because I’m coming too.”

  “You really don’t have to go on, either of you,” Turesobei said. “We can manage without you now. You’ve done your part. You got us this far and risked your lives for us. We are honored and indebted to you and cannot ask for more. In fact, I can give you most of the money we got from the nozakami-ga’s cave to repay your people when you return.”

  “No,” Kemsu said flatly. “I’m staying with you. At least until Kurine’s well and you return home.”

  “I’ve faced death before,” Narbenu said. “Quite a lot since I met you, Turesobei. I battled a yomon and survived. I’ve seen a magic tree growing upside down and escaped its guardians. And now I’ve reached the legendary Forbidden Library. I can go in and see wonders none of my people have ever seen. I may even live to return and tell the tale. No, I’m going on. I’m finishing my grand adventure. I think it’s well worth the risk.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Turesobei said, sadly. He’d seen enough adventure and wonder to not think it was worth trading the comforts of a simple life without danger. Maybe he wasn’t much like his father, after all.

  “Follow me,” the Keeper of the Shores said, and he led them up a winding path toward the Forbidden Library.

  A narrow staircase with steps dusted by snow and coated with ice rose before them. Only the single handrail to one side made Turesobei think they stood a chance of climbing up it successfully.

  Suddenly, his vision darkened. The pinkish afternoon sky deepened to blood-red. Shadows lengthened unnaturally, and the island turned a deep gray like the terrain within the Shadowland. Turesobei looked to his companions, but they were nowhere to be seen.

  A cloud like a shadow cast by the moon appeared, coiling around the library like an enormous snake. Blazing eyes opened within the shadow as it stretched down toward him.

  “I knew you would come to me one day,” said a voice, rumbling like thunder within the cloud. “You and I shall have our reckoning, Storm Dragon.”

  Turesobei collapsed to his knees as the shadow and the blazing eyes crashed in on him. A hand clutched his shoulder. The world returned to normal. The shadow was gone. His companions once again stood around him.

  The Keeper of the Shores released his grip from Turesobei’s shoulder. “The nightmare cannot hurt you. And it will not visit you again. You are under my protection.”

  “Thank you,” Turesobei said. “What was it?”

  “Your doom, should the Gathering grant your wish.” The guardian stepped onto the staircase and offered no further explanation. Turesobei didn’t even bother to ask. He’d find out soon enough.

  “Are you okay?” Enashoma asked.

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

  “What was it?” Zaiporo asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  Iniru sighed. “You’ve been hiding something from us, haven’t you?”

  “Just a nightmare I’ve had a few times since we came here. I didn’t think it was anything more than that until … now.” He decided not to explain about calling on the shadow in the nightmare Awasa had lured him into.

  Enashoma slapped him on the arm. “Jerk. Stop lying, and stop hiding things.”

  “It’s not something you could’ve helped me with.”

  “What if something happened and we needed to know?” Iniru demanded.

  “Then Lu Bei could tell you,” Turesobei replied.

  Everyone turned toward Lu Bei, and he held his hands up. “Don’t look at me like that! I can’t tell you private things unless Master allows it.”

  “Since when has that ever stopped you unless you were given a direct order?” Iniru said.

  Lu Bei ducked his head. “Well … I mean … you know … I … I can’t win here.”

  “Let it go,” Motekeru said. “Arguing accomplishes nothing.”

  No one wanted to disagree with Motekeru, for which Turesobei was thankful. He didn’t feel bad about not telling them. What was the point of worrying them any further, especially about something he still didn’t understand?

  Turesobei stepped onto the staircase, and his foot immediately slipped across the smooth, ice-slicked stone, despite the treads on his boots. He stepped again, planting his foot firmly and grabbing the rail. The treads crunched against the ice and only barely held. The Keeper stepped lightly, completely unaffected by the ice.

  “Careful everyone,” Narbenu said, slipping as he stepped up beside Turesobei, who reached out a hand to steady him. “We’d better go up single-file and use the handrail.”

  “Rig, Ohma,” Turesobei said, and the two amber wolfhounds rushed forward. “Climb up.” The hounds started onto the stairs and slid around, completely unable to gain purchase. “That’s enough, and what I figured. Stop, both of you. Someone will have to carry
them.”

  Everyone looked at one another and then at the stretch of what was surely a thousand steps or more going up, winding treacherously. Motekeru could have done it, but he already had Kurine.

  “We’ll have to fashion some sort of device to carry them,” Narbenu said. “But for that we would need our packs.”

  From where he stood waiting, a dozen steps up, the Keeper of the Shores made a strange sound, almost like a disgruntled crow cawing. He walked down, picked up the wolfhounds, tucked one under each arm, and continued up without a word. Turesobei restrained a smile and avoided looking at the others. He could feel Enashoma about to burst with a giggle and didn’t want to set her off.

  Thighs burning and feet sliding, they climbed the staircase. Fortunately, Motekeru didn’t have any trouble, despite carrying Kurine. He had spikes on the toes and heels of his feet, and his weight jammed them deep into the ice. The rest of them were not so lucky, and they treaded slowly. Lu Bei darted between them all, catching anyone who started to slip by their sleeves to make sure they didn’t lose their handhold.

  An hour later, they reached the flattened top of the island. A flagstone path led to an enormous doorway. Standing in front of the stone double doors were two more hooded beings like the Keeper of the Shores, their faces entirely hidden. They also carried rods at their waists. Turesobei opened his kenja-sight for just a moment. The rods emanated a strong combination of storm and fire kenja. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. And from the library beyond them flowed every sort of kenja imaginable. Yet under it all, deep within, lay shadow. He dropped the kenja-sight.

  “I have granted them an audience,” the Keeper of the Shores announced to his comrades.

  Turesobei and his companions bowed. In response, the guards at the door cocked their heads strangely, as if considering them. Then they turned and pulled open the great doors as if they weighed nothing.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Turesobei followed the Keeper of the Shores into the library’s cool, pervasive silence. The scents of decaying paper and lacquered wood hung heavy in the air. Only a few lanterns flickered overhead. Each strike of Turesobei’s boots against the polished marble floor reverberated through the short hallway and echoed into the cavernous central chamber ahead, and as his companions entered behind him, the noise increased to a rattling thunder. The Keeper snapped his head around and pointed at a set of shelves intended for storing shoes.

  “Quiet,” the guardian ordered.

  They removed their boots and stored them on the shelves lining the wall. They started forward, but Motekeru’s clawed toes and heels still clanked against the marble. The Keeper stopped, his spine erect, but before he could turn around, Turesobei whispered: “I’ll take care of it … unless you have a rule against me using magic here.”

  “No one here shall stop you from using benign magic.”

  Turesobei cast the spell of the silent footfall and targeted Motekeru’s feet. The simple spell used air kenja, so he could make it last for hours, especially since he was focusing it on such a small target. Motekeru took a few muffled footsteps, and nodded. They continued into the main chamber of the Forbidden Library. Above them soared twenty floors built around a wide rotunda ringed by a spiraling staircase. The top of this center section ended not in the dome that was visible from the outside, but with a glass mosaic ceiling depicting abstract shapes.

  Each gallery-style level contained floor-to-ceiling rows of mahogany shelves packed with books and scrolls. Vermillion columns held the floors aloft. Thousands of flickering lanterns hung throughout, though only half were lit, leaving the library surprisingly dim for a place intended for reading. Of course, that didn’t really matter, since no one but the library’s guardians were allowed inside.

  Looking upward, Turesobei spun around. “Wow, this is … this is Paradise.”

  “It’s pretty,” Iniru mocked. “Pretty but boring.”

  “Don’t tease him now,” Enashoma said. “You know this is amazing. Imagine what it’s like for him.”

  “I don’t read much,” Zaiporo said, “but I think I could probably spend a year in here before I got bored.”

  “Just imagine what all this library must contain,” said Narbenu.

  “A lot of books,” Kemsu muttered. “Books I can’t read.”

  “I think it would be worth learning how to read if one could stay here for a while,” Narbenu added.

  “I could stay here forever,” Motekeru said.

  “You can read?” Kemsu said.

  “I am not a savage,” Motekeru replied.

  Kemsu started to respond but dropped it.

  “Feels like … home,” said Lu Bei.

  Enashoma poked him in the belly. “That’s because you’re a book.”

  Lu Bei giggled, then said, “No, that’s not what I mean. It reminds me of the Grand Eternal Imperial Library of Tengba Ren, only it’s about twice the size. Master went there frequently for volumes he didn’t already own.”

  The bottom level was free of shelves. An array of tables, each with its own lantern and kneeling cushions, lined the edges. Near the far side was a freestanding stone cabinet, built like an outhouse, with a single door that lacked any sort of opening mechanism Turesobei could see. Beside the cabinet was a pedestal on which lay a tremendous codex bound with copper wire.

  The Keeper of the Shores turned toward them and dropped his cowl. Turesobei took a step back, while several of the others stumbled back and gasped. The guardian — the Keeper — he was … Turesobei didn’t know what the Keeper was. Certainly not human in the sense of the baojendari, zaboko, k’chasan, or goronku peoples. While his body was that of a brown-skinned human male, leanly muscled, his neck and head matched those of a falcon, with beady black eyes, a sharp pointed beak, and downy, blue-gray feathers.

  “No, I am not human like all of you, even though I resemble you in a few ways,” the Keeper said. “I am eirsenda by birth. My people are older even than the Kaiaru, though we came to this world after them. We are no longer a living race. We few carry on in our sacred role as Keepers, immortal guardians of important places and powerful artifacts. Yes, I have wings. Yes, I can fly. Do you have any other questions?”

  “We hadn’t asked any,” Iniru blurted out.

  He flicked his beady eyes at them. Was that a smile? It was impossible to tell for certain.

  “Are those not the questions you wanted to ask of me?”

  Wings beat above them, and two more Keepers spiraled down from the top level. When they landed, they folded back their brightly colored wings. One had feathers of blue and purple, while the other had feathers of orange, vermillion, and scarlet. Neither wore cloaks. Instead, they wore simple tunics belted at the waist. From their belts dangled those same mysterious metal rods.

  Turesobei bowed. “I am Chonda Turesobei.”

  “We know,” said the Keeper with vermillion wings. “I am the Keeper of Scrolls. Welcome to the Forbidden Library. I am in charge, and I will see that your needs are met, and that our rules are followed.”

  “You’re in charge?” said Turesobei. “What about the Great Librarian?”

  “The Great Librarian manages the collections and interviews petitioners allowed in by the Keeper of the Shores, arguing their cases on the rare occasions she deems them worthy. Ultimately, however, she must answer to me and the Gathering of Keepers, and our lord, the Keeper of Destiny. It is our responsibility to protect the knowledge and artifacts stored here. Your chances with the Great Librarian are slim, and your chances of winning over the Gathering dire, but that is how the system works. You may think it is unfair, but the system is not to my liking, either.”

  “You would help us?” Turesobei said.

  “No, I would kill you the moment you stepped foot into my library,” he said nonchalantly, his eyes locked onto the Keeper of the Shores, “regardless of need, unless your coming had been foretold by the Keeper of Destiny. This I would do even to you, Chonda Turesobei, heir of the great Cho
nda Lu.”

  Anger flared within Turesobei, and with it the sigil on his cheek grew hot. The Keeper of Scrolls focused his eyes on the mark, but showed no further reaction. Taking deep breaths, Turesobei restrained his anger. He gestured toward Kurine who lay quiet in Motekeru’s arms, missing the splendor of the library.

  “Kurine, my betrothed, she’s dying. She was poisoned by an orugukagi. I don’t have the resources to cure her in this world. I was hoping you could help her here.”

  The Keeper of Scrolls shrugged. “If she is dying and you cannot stop it, then that is her fate. There is nothing I can, nor would, do for her.”

  Turesobei stepped toward him, but Iniru caught his sleeve and tugged him back, shaking her head. Clenching his eyes shut, he sighed. She was right. There was no point growing angry. The eirsendan Keepers were clearly alien, and he would gain nothing by trying to argue with them, especially if he needed their support later. Maybe the Great Librarian could help her. Maybe home and a cure was only a day away. He could hope …

  The Keeper of Scrolls ruffled his feathers and took a deep breath. His voice became friendlier. “Now, as for your stay, it is warm here in the Library, especially once the cold air you allowed in heats up. We will provide you with a change of clothes, rooms with baths to wash the filth away, and a brief time to rest before meeting with the Great Librarian.

  “You must at all times follow the rules of the library. First, you cannot take anything from the library, should you be allowed to leave.” He gestured toward the outhouse-sized box to the left with the pedestal beside the door. “Second, you cannot enter the Lower Stacks. Any attempt to open that door will result in death. Third, you are free to read any of the books in the Main Library, but handle them with care and replace them on the shelves properly when you are done. Fourth, if you speak amongst the Upper Stacks, even so much as a whisper, the punishment is death.”

  What was the point of the rules if they never let anyone in? Who would they interrupt by speaking? Turesobei was beginning to think the Keepers were short on good nature and even more lacking in sanity.