by C. A. Pack
“Right.” He finished taping Johanna’s ankle before heading to the door. He abruptly turned toward Jackson. “You did leave the key in the ignition, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” After Beck left, Jackson sidled up to Johanna and lowered his voice. “I don’t trust that guy.” Another huge wave crashed against the window.
“It’s not like we’ve got another choice.”
“I just wish you could run,” Jackson said, staring at her bum ankle.
“That makes two of us.”
Cathasach worked on the other side of the lab where he should not have been able to overhear them. “You have nothing to fear from us.”
They turned toward him, but an odd fizzy sound and a pop hijacked their attention as they were plunged into darkness.
LOI
CHAPTER 28
Izabella slept for two hours and woke up hot and listless.
“Poor Bel, I think you’re not feeling well.”
The youngster did not respond to Pru Tellerence’s touch.
⌘Is there a problem?
★I believe she’s sick and I don’t know what to do for her.
⌘Let me take a look. Ryden Simmdry gently stroked the child’s cheek.
Pru Tellerence pulled back a little, surprised at the effect that small gesture had upon her.
Izabella open her eyes and looked at Ryden Simmdry, but Ryden Simmdry did not notice because his eyes were closed. However, his lips moved.
★Are you praying?
Ryden Simmdry smiled. ⌘I don’t think that’s what I’d call it, but you can refer to it in any way you want.
Izabella rolled over and scrambled to her knees, staring at the two overseers.
“You certainly look better. Would you like something to eat?”
Izabella climbed down from the bed and continued to stare. Then she reached for Pru Tellerence’s hand and the overseer knew it would be incredibly difficult to part with the child.
★
Jackson grabbed Johanna and held on tight. “What’s going on?” he called out loud enough for Cathasach to hear. He saw a flicker of light in the corner and then Cathasach’s face.
“The waves have engulfed the generator. Just give me a moment.” The candle flicker moved across the room, and a cold blue light suddenly flooded the space.
“You have a backup generator.”
“Of a sort. The light is a little more harsh, but it won’t go out.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because it’s powered by sorcery, and it would take a sorcerer more powerful than Bradán to undo it. Myrddin may be the only sorcerer that powerful.”
“Then why did you call on us to help you? If you’re as powerful as you say you are and Myrddin haunts this place, surely you don’t need our help.”
“I am neither as strong as Myrddin or Bradán. And remember, even though Myrddin haunts this workshop, he is dead. The threat, as perceived by us, is very much alive. And if the person trying to relieve us of Myrddin’s memoir has any power at all, he’ll be able to grow it substantially using Myrddin’s elixirs and spells.”
Johanna lowered her bad ankle from the counter and positioned herself to hop down to the floor; then thought better of it. “Tell us what you know.”
“Let’s wait for Beck to return. He travels a lot and has a more global scope of what’s happening.”
★
Furst could not stop the celebration even though he knew recruiting additional soldiers to help defend the library was more important. The Dramaticans he had posted at the portals could not stay there forever. They would need to be relieved.
Furst approached several of the men who had fought earlier in the day, but they ignored his plea. “My part, I have done,” one of them said outright. The curator felt his energy waning. Only his determination kept him going.
Then he heard a voice say, “Fight, we can.”
Furst turned to find an older boy and a few of his friends standing behind him. “Too young, you are. Complain, your mothers would.”
“That young, we are not. If men to fight, there are not enough, prisoners of those creatures, we all would be. Fight, we can. To hunt and shoot, we’ve been taught. To defend our homes, we want, as much as someone older. Years ahead of us, we have. To live free of tyranny, we want.”
Furst studied the boys. They were as tall as he was even if their ringlets had not fully curled. “Reach the time of full growth, when do you?”
“When the sun lowers for winter,” one said.
“Also, me,” another called out.
“Near in age, we are all. Fight together, we will.”
“Ask your kin, you must. In agreement, if they are, fight you will.”
A boy pushed through the others. He seemed small—but determined. “Only my father, I had. Today in battle, he died. For him, I must fight. In vain, his death must not be.”
Furst nodded at the lad and offered him his hand. “Your name, what is?”
“Lenc,” the boy replied.
“Help you, we will.”
The other boys ran off to ask for permission to fight. Their families disappointed a few of the lads by not giving them permission, but a half dozen young Dramaticans returned with slingshots and crossbows.
Seeing themselves bested by younger kinsmen, other Dramaticans who had not fought earlier, also joined Furst’s ranks. And slowly a new militia began to form.
★
Wild surf continued to lash the windows of Myrddin’s workshop.
“I can’t believe how high these waves are,” Jackson exclaimed.
“They’re not that high at all,” Cathasach answered. “We’re deep in the bedrock, much closer to the water line than the fields above. These waves, while substantial to us, are a small indicator of the storm to come—not yet high enough to concern people on the surface. But from here, they are already menacing.”
Jackson knocked on the glass window. “How can this be embedded in the rock? Won’t it leak? Can it break?”
“That glass was designed by Bradán. Remember, he was a sorcerer, and a great one at that. He designed it in a way that makes it one with the rock. Glass is made out of silica after all, as is rock. Here, it is fused together as if nature had done it herself. And this window is impossible to detect from the outside. An enchantment makes it blend with the shadows and crevasses of the bluff, giving us a vast, invisible window on the sea.
Bits of hail began pinging against the glass just as the door slid open to allow Beck’s return. “It’s getting nasty above.”
“Did you run into anyone?”
“They were too busy securing everything in preparation for the storm. Apparently, it came out of nowhere fast, and it’s expected to be huge.”
Jackson’s stomach grumbled. It was late afternoon and he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“Well, let’s settle in then,” Cathasach said. “I think lamb stew and Welsh cakes should hit the spot.”
“Where are you going to get it?” Jackson asked.
“I’m going to make it,” Cathasach replied.
The teen’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to conjure it out of nothing?”
Cathasach laughed. “I going to cook it on a stove using meat and vegetables stored in a refrigerator. And you’re going to help. Come on.” He walked over to the stainless steel elevator door and pressed the button to open the doors.
Jackson stepped inside and noticed only a handle, which Cathasach pulled. The elevator started moving. “Are we going up? It almost feels like we’re going sideways.”
“You’re right on both counts. We’re moving diagonally. We could have built a staircase and made an opening into the living quarters from the workshop, but we didn’t want any distractions in either section from the other. This separates them quite adequately.”
The door opened into a stone cavern with a window similar to the one in the lab. Cathasach clapped his hands, and a fire in a stone recess sparked to life.
>
“Considering people don’t know this place is here, what do they think when smoke pours out of the chimney?”
“There is no chimney. The fire is a complex illusion, a hologram of sorts that gives off heat and light and provides atmosphere. It’s especially calming when a storm is brewing, because no matter how raw or wild it may look outside our window, it feels comfortable and cozy inside.
“I especially like the fireplace, living here full time. Beck probably couldn’t care less, but then, he’s a visitor who spends most of his time off the island.”
Jackson looked past a polished stone counter into an unusually large kitchen. “This is a lot of kitchen for just one person.”
“Not at all. We must have space to accommodate all Eahta Frean fram Drycræft and their various dietary preferences. We learned early on that touching another person’s food could lead to dire consequences and installed eight separate refrigerators and private cupboards. One for each member.”
“What do wizards do to get even, when someone steals their food?”
“The offender is roasted like mutton, and no amount of personal conjuring will release him from his bonds.”
“You eat him?”
“No. We prevail upon the wizard whose food was stolen to stop, and he usually allows it after we promise the offender will be banished from the Eahta Frean fram Drycræft. Finding a replacement on short notice is quite an ordeal, I assure you. We have to make sure those who take on the position are willing to die to protect this secret.”
“But now Johanna and I know your secret.”
“Yes, and normally we'd enact an amnesia spell to remove all knowledge of our existence from you before you leave. But it probably won’t work on curators, so we implore you to carry our secret to the grave, as we will yours.”
“Wow.”
“Yes.”
★
Pru Tellerence sequestered herself inside Johanna’s apartment knowing it would be easier to shield her thoughts if she only met with the other overseers occasionally. But even though she chose not to leave the confines of the residence, it didn’t stop Ryden Simmdry and the others from coming in.
Mal entered the kitchen and unwrapped a meal delivered by a local restaurant. Pru Tellerence entered a moment later, in search of dinner for Izabella.
“We haven’t seen much of you today,” Mal said as he scooped a serving of pasta into a bowl.
★I’ve been taking care of Bel. She wasn’t feeling well earlier, although whatever Ryden Simmdry did for her, seems to have turned the tide.
The child held her hand out to Mal, opening and closing her fingers.
“You want some of my dinner, do you?” He put some pasta on a small plate for the youngster. “Let me get you a fork.”
But Bel didn’t wait and when he turned back, she had already stuffed a handful of pasta in her mouth.
“Or not,” he said, laughing.
⌘Is this meeting of the minds for everyone, or are some of us excluded?
“Welcome to my … Johanna’s humble kitchen. Would anyone care for some pasta? Bel has certainly given it her seal of approval.”
In fact, the child had finished the pasta he had given her and held out her hand for more.
◍I can’t remember what it was like to be so young, or hungry.
⌘When you age only one year for every thousand, you need only one or two meals a year. Three if you really enjoy food. Considering we recently ate at Plato Indelicat’s memorial, our need for food is low at this time.
◍When we swear you in as Chancellor of the Exchequer, Malcolm, you’ll receive the extended longevicus blessing and find your need for sustenance greatly diminished.
“I welcome the blessing and yet I’ll miss the taste and texture of food and the camaraderie an evening of dining provides.” He watched as Selium Sorium made animal shadows on the wall to entertain Izabella.
⌘Perhaps, but if we do find ourselves in an extended conflict, not needing as much food to survive is definitely an advantage.
Pru Tellerence inhaled and held her breath for a second too long as she gazed at Izabella. Surely, this child shouldn’t need to eat as often as she does. She looked up to see Ryden Simmdry staring at her. Mal hadn’t sensed her thoughts, and Selium Sorium was busy entertaining Bel, but she felt sure Ryden Simmdry had zeroed in on them. She just didn’t know how much he read into them.
★
Johanna and Jackson were shown to separate quarters after dinner. Jackson lingered in the open door to see which room they gave Johanna. He watched her disappear into the room next to his, then pretended to close his door until he heard Beck and Cathasach say goodnight. He waited another five minutes before sneaking to Johanna’s room and rapping softly on her door.
She opened it and limped back to the bed, a huge four-poster monstrosity with heavy satin panels hanging from rails.
“Wow, maybe this was Myrddin’s room. My room just has a plain old bed, not much bigger than my bed at home. But this thing looks like it can sleep an army.”
“Not while I’m in it,” she replied.
“How’s your ankle?”
“It doesn’t hurt as much as it did this afternoon.”
“Do you think that stuff Beck put on it actually works?”
“Who knows? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to protect you, just in case one of those guys decides to sneak back in here tonight.”
She smiled. “Okay. But all we’re going to do is sleep. Don’t get any ideas.”
“Like I said, I’m just here to protect you.”
★
Nero 51 set the time machine for the same coordinates his troops had used to invade Juvenilia. He activated the portal and entered the library cupola, stopping suddenly. The interior of this library appeared utilitarian at best. There were books on the shelves, but they looked neglected. Dust and cobwebs covered much of the surface. This library had an air of abandonment and desolation and he intuitively knew he was not on Juvenilia.
The Terrorian gingerly made his way to the center of the cupola and looked down. Everything looked as if it had remained undisturbed for a long time. He motioned for his general to follow him and started descending the spiral staircase. It groaned under the Terrorians’ weight.
Nero 51 kept his eyes peeled for anyone lurking about below, but the pair reached the ground floor without incident. He walked to the front door and pushed it open a sliver, peering out at a courtyard overgrown with vegetation.
He caught sight of a group of beings exiting a nearby building. The bluish green color of their skin and metal appendages gave them away.
He closed the door. “Adventura.”
“Allies.”
“Once, perhaps. Not anymore. There was a nuclear catastrophe here immediately following the Two Millennia War. Many realms blamed us for what happened, but the portals were sealed by then, so I don’t know how they came to that conclusion.
“The Adventurans are responsible for what happened to their world. Still, I wouldn’t want to run into any of them and have to explain why we’re here.”
“Where to now?”
“I think we best return home. We must figure out how to travel the portals more accurately.” He returned to the portal but it did not take him to the time machine. Instead, he finally found himself on Juvenilia and realized his troops had not been there. The cupola was filled with brightly colored books, the surrounding spaces were undisturbed, and he could hear children singing gaily and having fun.
They didn’t do any better on their next venture through the portals either. In fact, they did much worse.
LOI
CHAPTER 29
Johanna woke to Jackson’s gentle snoring. She hopped out of bed and didn’t realize her ankle felt perfectly fine until she reached the bathroom. She unwrapped the bandage, washed away the blue gunk, and put her full weight on it again to make sure it felt fully healed. It must have been only a sprain. By the time she emerged
from the bathroom, Jackson had awakened. She hit him with a pillow. “Get up, time’s a ‘wasting.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” He stretched and yawned. “You weren’t up half the night listening for noises.”
“Did you hear any?”
“No.”
“You should have just gone to sleep like the rest of us.”
“How do you know what the rest of us did while you were out cold?”
“If anyone did anything nefarious, we’d know by now.”
The teens easily found the kitchen by following the smell of freshly baked bread. Two crusty loaves cooled on the counter where Cathasach whipped eggs like a short order cook. “You two are just in time for breakfast. I’m making a giant omelet, and I just took the bread out of the oven. If you were hoping for meats, beans or mushrooms, I’m sorry to disappoint you. We eat simply here.”
“Whatever you have is fine,” Johanna said.
Cathasach smiled and continued to beat eggs. He broke into an Italian love song and sang his heart out while cooking.
Beck walked in yawning. “That’s quite a racket you’re making. How can anybody be expected to sleep?”
“We’ve had plenty of time to sleep,” Cathasach said, grating cheese on top of the eggs. “Now, it’s time to eat. Later, we’ll have all day to ponder who’s after Myrddin’s memoir.
“I can’t,” Beck replied. “I’m scheduled for a flight today.”
“Have you looked out the window?” Cathasach waved the cheese grater in that general direction. “The storm is full-on. You’re not going to be able to get off the island.”
Beck slumped into a chair. “Great.” The sound of defeat echoed in his single word.
“Why wait until after breakfast?” Johanna asked. “Why can’t we talk now about who you suspect is after the book?”
Cathasach sprinkled herbs on the omelet. “If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t have needed to send the book to you.
“It started innocuously,” he continued. “I found it out of place one day and thought Beck, or one of the others, had forgotten to put it away. But it bothered me because we’re all very careful with that particular book. Myrddin produced many volumes of notes and spells, but the others are fairly simple and pragmatic. The collection I sent to you for safekeeping is special. It’s his most important life’s work. The spells in that one collection—in the hands of a powerful sorcerer—could change the world as we know it.”