by C. A. Pack
★
Edmund described the Library of Illumination for those unfamiliar with it. “It’s simply the best research library I’ve ever found.” He smiled at Johanna and she relaxed.
“I find it almost insulting,” Alianessa Anjou said with a sexy French accent, “that Myrddin suspects one of us of trying to steal his work. I say almost because I know someone is trying to steal it, and it could be anyone, including us.”
“I don’t agree,” Mateus countered. “How do we know someone is trying to steal his work? We are taking the word of a complete stranger who claims she has spoken with Myrddin and was told he suspects one of us. Who started this inquiry in the first place?”
Cathasach’s face reddened. “I did. I found the book slightly altered. I asked Myrddin’s ghost about it and he confirmed that someone—possibly from another dimension—is trying to steal his notes, and he told me to send them to—”
“Stop! Not another word,” Robert cried as he held out one hand. He appeared to be wearing thin, tan leather gloves that fit like a second skin.
“How come you’re wearing gloves?” Jackson asked. “It’s not like it’s cold in here.”
Robert glared at the teen. “What impertinence.”
Edmund answered the question. “He has a skin condition. The gloves are like bandages, keeping the required medication from wearing off his hands.”
Robert gave Edmund an equally withering look. “That is none of their business. Besides, I don’t believe our young guests are who they claim they are.”
“I’m Johanna Charette, curator of the Library of Illumination.”
“I doubt that highly,” Robert replied. “You’re much too young to be a curator.”
“But she is,” Cathasach interrupted. “She already showed us the symbol embedded in her hand. From what I have learned, these cannot be duplicated.”
“Anything can be duplicated,” Robert said, studying her palm, “with the right know how.”
“Yes,” Cathasach continued, “but do you think this teenage girl has the know how to duplicate this on her own?”
Robert threw up his hands. “I guess not.”
Veronika glared at Robert. “Are you saying that because she’s a woman?”
“A woman?” he replied. “Really? She looks barely old enough to cross the street by herself.”
“Then why did you accuse her to begin with?” Alianessa asked.
“I’m just saying she’s not to be trusted—not with Myrddin’s memoir—and perhaps, not with our wallets. They could be thieves of a more trifling variety.”
“No,” Cathasach said. “I believe they’re who they say they are. Where is Beck with that saw?”
“That’s another problem. I can’t believe Edmund can’t reverse-engineer his own drops. Here,” Robert held out his hand toward Edmund, “let me see if I can do something.”
Edmund slipped the bottle of drops in his pocket. “I prefer not to—not until I do more testing on it.”
“Then why did you use the drops in the first place?” Veronika asked.
“Because I saw those two as a threat. Now I don’t. Since I do not fully understand how to reverse the drops,” he continued, “I prefer not to use them again, until I do further testing.”
Robert stepped forward and planted himself uncomfortably close to Edmund. “Afraid I might best you with your own elixir, Beasom?”
“No,” Edmund responded. “I’m afraid you may cause harm with a potion attached to my name. I am willing to accept judgment for my own mistakes, but not for yours.”
Beck entered with a small hack saw. He picked up Johanna’s wrist and looked it over. “I hope I can do this without cutting flesh.”
Johanna closed her eyes, but didn’t say a word.
“Here,” Jackson said. “Practice on me. I can take it.”
Beck placed the blade against the metal. Jackson instinctively bent his wrist away from the manacle. “That’s good,” Beck said. “Don’t move.”
Beck sawed for several minutes. “Ouch,” Jackson yelled.
“Sorry about that,” Beck replied.
Cathasach took a handkerchief out of his pocket and blotted the blood on Jackson’s hand. He then laid an amulet across the cut and recited a short spell, before he used his handkerchief to tie the amulet to Jackson’s hand. It took several more minutes to cut the teen free.
Jackson massaged his wrist. “You’ve got to be more careful with Johanna,” he said.
“I think I’ve got this,” Beck answered, before placing the blade against Johanna’s manacle.
The curator kept her eyes closed while Beck sawed away. It wasn’t long before he freed her. She took Jackson’s hand. “Let me see your cut.”
He removed the amulet. His hand appeared unblemished. “It’s gone.” He held out the handkerchief. “I know I got cut because—A—I felt the pain, and—B—my blood is on the handkerchief. I guess it’s like what Beck did to your ankle when you sprained it in Wales.”
“What are you talking about?” Beck asked.
“Look, I know you don’t remember because there’s been a rift in the space-time continuum, but Johanna sprained her ankle running to catch the Skokholm ferry, and you put some blue gunk and twigs on her ankle and recited some mumbo jumbo and the injury went away by the next morning. You said the spell came from Myrddin. Johanna had a broken ankle, and you healed it.”
“Did you say there’s been a rift in the space-time continuum?” Cathasach whispered.
“Uh … yeah.” Jackson mumbled.
Johanna grabbed Jackson’s hand and squeezed it much harder than necessary. “It may have been an attempt to steal the book,” Johanna said. “That’s why we’re so concerned.”
“Right,” Jackson added.
“I don’t see how that could be possible,” Robert said.
“Myrddin could be time traveling,” Johanna said, turning to Cathasach. “Didn’t you tell me he time traveled to the future thirty-five years ago and brought back a cell phone?”
“How could you know about that?” Cathasach sounded bewildered.
“You told us when we visited you in Myrddin’s workshop.”
“Yeah.” Jackson frowned. “That was before you forgot who we were and had Beck escort us off the island.”
“We must get to the bottom of this, and quickly,” Edmund said. “I do not like the direction this conversation is taking to the portals they get
to the portals they get
.”
Jackson yawned, disrupting the ensuing silence. “Sorry, long day.”
“That’s true for all of us,” Cathasach noted. “Maybe we should table the remainder of this meeting until tomorrow.”
“Some of us have business to attend to,” Zendali said.
“Yes, but I think we’ll all benefit from a night’s rest.” Cathasach looked at the teens. “Where are you staying? The Old Town Square Hotel is right above us. I suggest you take rooms there. It would make meeting with us tomorrow convenient.”
“I kind of hoped we’d stay at the Four Seasons,” Jackson said. “Maybe it has burgers like the George V.”
“I doubt it,” Alianessa said. “Nothing here is anything like you’d get in Paris.”
“Oh.” Jackson’s face fell.
The others began filing out, but Cathasach put his hand on Johanna’s arm to detain her. He waited until the others’ voices became faint. “I very much would like to speak to you before meeting with the others.”
“We’ll meet you in the center of Town Square tomorrow morning,” Johanna responded.
“Why not in the hotel for breakfast?”
“Because Jackson wants to stay at the Four Seasons. I’m pretty sure he’d like eating breakfast there as well.”
“Yes!” Jackson picked Johanna off the ground and twirled.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m doing this instead of a happy dance. I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
&
nbsp; “I think it’s too late for that,” she murmured.
“Why don’t I meet you for breakfast then, at your hotel,” Cathasach said. “There would be more privacy there. The others are all staying at the place I mentioned earlier. It’s actually better if we meet elsewhere.”
“Works for me,” Jackson said.
“We’ll meet you in the lobby of our hotel around eight,” Johanna added.
“Aw,” Jackson moaned. “So early?”
“That’s not early.”
“It is when the beds are comfortable. The Four Seasons has really comfortable beds.”
Cathasach tilted his head. “You’re so young, I would never have taken you for a world traveller, and a luxury traveller, at that.”
“You have no idea,” Jackson answered and would have continued about all the places he’d traveled to recently, if Johanna hadn’t squeeze his hand really hard. Again.
LOI
CHAPTER 41
Recruitment on Terroria built steadily, if only because many of the citizens wanted to pay tribute to General Lethro 814.
Nero 51 looked on with a feeling of accomplishment. If I had known this many people would enlist for battle, I would have killed the general long ago.
He had promoted Barzic 922 to replace the late general. His new general now approached him. “Room 3 is overflowing with recruits. Would you like to look them over before we break them away for training?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Nero 51 replied. “Get them sorted and assigned. There are many things for them to learn. Make sure, however, they’re drilled in parade formation first. I find the appearance of a well-deported military gives both the troops and the public a sense of pride and hope for the future. I will not abide sloppy formations. I want to see precision. They already know how to handle weapons. They learned that in school. And we don’t need them to be tacticians. The upper echelon will handle that. I want them to be able to take orders and follow directions without question.”
“As you command,” the new general answered.
“You have twenty-four hours.”
“Twenty-four hours? That’s impossible.”
“There’s a lot at stake here, General. If you can’t handle it, you can opt to be demoted back to private, and I’ll appoint a new leader in your stead.”
“I was a colonel, not a private.”
“As I said, if you can’t handle it, I’ll have you demoted back to private. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’m glad we ironed out that annoying wrinkle.”
The general turned to go. “It may go more quickly for you,” Nero 51 continued, “if you withhold their meals. They’ll learn precision quickly, if they understand that’s the only way they’ll be fed.”
“That’s brutish.”
Nero 51 grabbed the general with all eight of his tentacles and spun him around. “That’s efficient. And we need efficiency, right now. Twenty-four hours, General. Or should I say, Private?”
Barzic 922 answered through clenched teeth. “As. You. Command.”
★
It took longer than expected for Pru Tellerence to gather the right mix of books for Dramatica. The class R library reorganized its inventory every day in order of importance, which made it take longer to determine which books needed to be replaced. That delayed her trip to the realm until the following morning.
The only original piece of furniture remaining on the upper levels of the Dramatican library had been the circulation desk, so the overseer arranged for shelves and new furniture to replace what had been lost. She believed this would be a welcomed surprise for everyone.
She completed her preparations, but first transported to Dramatica without books or furniture to make sure errant pieces of flying furniture would not bump off Furst or members of his militia.
Soldiers fired on her as soon as she appeared, and once again, she wordlessly thanked Ryden Simmdry for his protection charm.
The troops all spoke at once.
“The overseer, it is.”
“Your fire, hold.”
“Sorry, we are.”
She held up her hands to silence them. ★You are doing an excellent job of protecting the library. Carry on. She walked past them and found Furst in the bindery, one of the few rooms that had not been disturbed during the invasion.
He meticulously pieced together an old book with a binding that had been charred by a flaming arrow. He looked up when the shadow of the overseer fell across his workspace. “Honored I am, Pru Tellerence, that to return, you have chosen.”
★If you will clear your soldiers out of the library—for only a moment—I have a surprise for you.
“Of course, yes,” he replied and asked the soldiers to move to the front of the lobby.
With the library cleared, Pru Tellerence recited a short spell as she moved her left hand with the Illumini constellation facing outward in a slow arc. The Dramatican soldiers gasped as the room filled with books and furniture. It only took a few seconds for the dean to refurbish the expanse. When she was done, some books flew about on their own, reorganizing in their order of importance for that particular day.
★I believe that should take care of your literary needs for now, she said with a smile.
“Grateful, we are,” Furst replied, his eyes glassy with emotion. “To your posts, you can return,” he told the soldiers.
★Is there anything else I can help you with?
“Make a decision, Dramaticans must. To collect taxes, we need, for war, to pay. Against it, the people are. But necessary, it is. Go into the square, would you, and to the people, speak?”
★Of course. Together they left the library to address the citizens in the town square.
★
Cathasach met up with Johanna and Jackson at their hotel the following morning.
They talked in general about the city of Prague while they ate, and then settled down to business over a second cup of coffee. “So what do you want to discuss away from the others?” Johanna asked.
“I suspect someone. I didn’t until last night, but after what transpired and what was said, I’m left with a question.”
Johanna leaned toward Cathasach. “Whom do you suspect?”
“What’s the question?” Jackson asked simultaneously.
Cathasach took another sip of coffee. “I refuse to name names—in case I’m wrong—but only one among us has ever claimed to have successfully performed Myrddin’s most important spell.”
“Traveling as sound and light,” Johanna guessed, and Jackson nodded.
Cathasach’s mouth opened in amazement. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Because you mentioned it on Skokholm,” Johanna said.
“But you never said who it was. Does anyone want the last croissant?” Jackson asked politely before stabbing it with his fork.
“I hate to think the person I suspect is the culprit, because next to myself, he’s been a member of the eight the longest.”
“Is it the guy who wanted us to chew our hands off?” Jackson bit into the croissant, “because he’s on the top of my list.”
“No,” Cathasach replied. “Although there’s nothing to say he isn’t the one.”
“Tell us about the members,” Johanna urged.
“Well, you know about me. I actually live at Myrddin’s workshop, even though I’m originally from Scotland. We always select at least one member from Wales, and that person usually lives at the workshop as a protector. But the last couple of Welch wizards couldn’t relocate to Skokholm because of familial or career concerns. The workshop needs to be constantly guarded. Since I’m on my own, I moved in. That was forty-two years ago. I’ve been there ever since.”
“Who else is from Wales?” she asked.
“At this point, just Beck, and having to live on the island would cut into his active social life, not to mention his ability to easily get to the airport for work.”
“Unl
ess,” Jackson said, “he’s the one who can transmogrify into light and sound.”
“No. It’s not Beck, at least as far as I know.” Cathasach sighed.
“So who is it?” Jackson asked. “We have six more people to go and not much time if you’re having a morning meeting.”
“There’s Z, but she’s always been such a staunch supporter, I doubt she’s behind it.”
“Z?” Johanna asked.
“He’s probably talking about Zendali Zendaga of Zimbabwe.” Jackson turned to Cathasach. “Am I right?”
“Yes. Then there’s Mateus. He’s a powerful wizard, but I’ve never had any reason to suspect him.”
“Tell me about the Russian woman,” Johanna said.
“Veronika can be argumentative, but I believe it’s because she sees herself as a supporter of causes.”
“What if one of her causes is to steal Myrddin’s powers?” Johanna asked.
“She’s already a force to be reckoned with. That would make her nearly impossible to deal with,” Cathasach confessed.
“What’s the deal with the French chick?” Jackson asked.
“Alianessa Anjou? She doesn’t seem very aggressive, but I guess it’s the quiet ones we have to worry about.”
Johanna leaned back in her chair. “I noticed you could hardly believe one of the men might be involved, while you’re not as circumspect about the women.”
“It may sound that way,” Cathasach replied, “but I assure you, it’s not what I’m thinking.”
Jackson checked a scrap of paper he’d pulled out of his pocket. “That’s everyone. Now what?”
“Now,” Johanna said, “I think we should accompany Cathasach to the meeting, sit quietly by ourselves, and study the others as they conduct business.”