The Forbidden Library

by David Alastair Hayden

  A few moments later the fetch flew into the snowhouse, circled the room three times, sticking his tongue out at Iniru and Kurine with each pass, and landed before Enashoma. He swept one hand out and bowed before her.

  “My lady,” Lu Bei said. “Most wondrous Blossom. Fairest of all. I have come to bring happiness. Which, of course, means that I have come to serve you tea.” In his other hand he held a tin bowl.

  “We don’t have any tea,” she muttered through sobs. “And no fire.”

  “Tut. Tut.” Lu Bei shook a finger at her. “Such negative thinking.” He held the bowl out. “Water please.”

  Kurine grabbed a canteen and poured clean water into the bowl. The water was nearly frozen. The only way they could keep it liquid was by storing it with the star-stones. Lu Bei flicked his hand out and suddenly, between his fingers, he held a satchel filled with herbs. He dropped the satchel into the tin bowl. Jasmine, Turesobei picked out the scent immediately, along with …

  “Tea buds!” he said. “You have white tea buds. You were holding out.”

  Enashoma clapped and laughed.

  “Desperate times call for special teas,” Lu Bei said. “I’ve always got something good stashed away for just the right moment.”

  “Where do you stash anything away?” Kurine said. “You’re naked.”

  “Madam!” Lu Bei said, folding his wings around to cover himself. His amber cheeks darkened. “We do not point out such things. We also do not question the magic of tea storage. Are we clear?”

  “Um … okay … sure,” she responded.

  “Good.” He stuck his tongue out at her. “Now, master, if you would so kindly warm the tea. Friend Motekeru, I think master could benefit from a bit of assistance.”

  “For Enashoma,” Motekeru said. “Of course.”

  Turesobei cast a fire-wielding spell and held a hand out toward Motekeru who spat a small flame into it. He then held his hand under the tin bowl until steam began to rise from it.

  “You can hold fire!” Kurine said.

  “It’s a simple trick. Just a minor talent and a bit of focus. I couldn’t walk through a fire, just to be clear. That would require serious magic.”

  Lu Bei dipped a finger into the bowl. “Ahhh … perfection.” He passed the bowl to Enashoma, but she handed it to Turesobei, wiped away her tears, and took Lu Bei into a hug, squeezing him tightly.

  “Oh my, I cannot breath, my lady. Cannot breathe. I shall perish!”

  Laughing, she let him go and took the bowl. She drank from it and sighed with pleasure. “Oh, it’s like a bit of home. It’s perfect.” After a while she handed it to Turesobei. “Have a sip. But just one. A small one. The tea is mine.”

  He took a sip and it was like tasting home. Enashoma let Iniru take a sip next and she too sighed with pleasure. Enashoma took the bowl to Kurine. “Try some.”

  “Are you sure?” Kurine said, almost blushing. “It’s your tea.”

  “You are my friend now. Almost sisters, I guess. I want you to try it.”

  Nervously, Kurine tasted the tea. “It’s … it’s sort of bitter and tangy. The herb is nice. Sorry, I didn’t mean to — It is tasty. We don’t have anything like that.”

  “I know,” Enashoma moaned.

  “I am reminded,” said Lu Bei, “of the Ballad of the Man Who Could Not Taste Tea. Have you heard that one?”

  None of them had heard it, of course. Lu Bei recited the tale, delighting everyone, especially Shoma. Turesobei suspected the fetch was making up the tale as he went. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Enashoma was a little bit better.

  Chapter 37

  As they continued on, the land ceased to be barren, and they were forced to bypass a region of hot springs that hosted dozens of villages. After that the terrain leveled out again, and they picked up speed, soon returning to wild, unpopulated areas. They encountered few problems and the yomon remained out of sight, as did their reitsu pursuer if indeed he still followed them. Turesobei hadn’t detected him since the blizzard. Lu Bei and Narbenu were both certain the yomon needed little if any sleep, and their stride was long which would allow them to cover much distance. So if the yomon picked up the trail, they would close in fast.

  As they crested a hill, sunlight sparkled along lines on a flat plain in the distance.

  “What is that?” Turesobei asked.

  “The Glass Sea,” Narbenu replied.

  “What are those lines?” Zaiporo asked.

  “The lines,” said Narbenu, “are the result of sailing ships traveling across the surface, pushing aside the snow that has fallen onto the surface.”

  An hour later they stood on the shore. It was solid, glassy on top, with a dark gray color underneath. And it was wrong, all wrong. Turesobei stood on the edge of a sea and there was only the faintest scent of salt in the air, as if he were yet leagues away from the shore.

  Zaiporo walked out onto the sea and began to slide around, despite the treads on his overboots. “Whoa, it’s slick.”

  “That’s how come ships can sail on it,” Narbenu said. “The sails catch the wind and the skates glide along the surface.”

  “Sailing on skates, that I would like to see,” said Lu Bei.

  “The ice isn’t going to break underneath us, is it?” Enashoma asked.

  Narbenu shook his head. “They say that even the thinnest patch of ice on the sea could hold the weight of ten goronku. I’ve never heard of ice cracking or breaking on the sea. Never heard of anyone falling in. Many people fish the sea, despite the dangers out here. They drill holes through the ice to do so. I’ve heard they have to drill ten feet in most places to reach water.”

  While everyone took a short lunch break, Narbenu scanned their surroundings, searching for some marker to get their bearings. It was hard with a plain of barren ice behind them and a frozen, barren sea ahead. And he had never been here before.

  “With the treasure you took from the pool in the cave, we could afford a ship to transport us there,” Narbenu said. “If we could find a port.”

  “I didn’t think we needed a ship,” Turesobei said.

  “It’s not necessary, our mounts can handle the ice,” Narbenu replied. “But there’s less traction and they will travel much more slowly across it. A ship would be a lot faster. I never mentioned it before because we couldn’t afford one. We could also use some precise directions on where the Library is on the sea.”

  Turesobei knelt. “I’ll see if I can detect any presences nearby, anyone that might help us.” He extended the spell out as far as he possibly could but didn’t pick up any signs of people or beasts. “So what now? Skirt the coast and look for a port, or just take off across the Glass Sea?”

  “It’s your call,” Iniru said, “but I think we should try to find a port first. We just can’t take too long.”

  “Are there many ports?” Turesobei asked Narbenu.

  “I’ve heard that there are a number of tiny villages and ships visit them regularly, but there aren’t many ports.”

  Turesobei considered their options. The ice should inhibit the yomon as much as them if not more. But a ship would let them outrace the yomon completely. “Let’s ride along the coast and try to find a village, at least to get more info about the Forbidden Library. Anyone have a problem with that decision?” No one did. “All right then, east or west?”

  “How about east?” Kurine said. “The rising sun always brings hope.”

  “How is that?” Turesobei asked.

  “Our sun has faded,” Kurine said. “We always fear that one day it will go out and never rise again.”

  They struck out east, riding along the shore, and found nothing that day. They made camp fifty paces away from the shore as the sun set. Turesobei decided they’d try one more day before giving up and riding out onto sea.

  As they did every night, Turesobei, Lu Bei, and Motekeru stayed outside for one final check before tucking in. Darkness had set in completely and the night sky overhead was mo
onless. Thousands of stars twinkled. Turesobei stared up at them, steamy puffs of breaths coming from his mouth.

  “They’re all a bit wrong, the stars,” Turesobei said. “Like ours but a little out of place.”

  “The stars change over time,” Lu Bei replied. “Like the planets and the moons. They just move very, very slow. I think this may be a version of our world that’s in the far future. Though I can’t explain the whole crossing the barrier into oblivion aspect.”

  Motekeru stomped away, making a big circuit around the camp. Lu Bei circled overhead. His eyes were good in the dark. Turesobei knelt and cast the sensing spell one more time. He was doing it so much, three or four times every day, that it was becoming routine. Several dozen presences immediately sparked in his mind. Coming up from the sea and heading toward them fast. He leapt to his feet.

  “We’ve got incoming! Motekeru, guard the mounts. Lu Bei, they’re coming from the sea. Keep watch.”

  Turesobei turned to warn the others, but they were already rushing out of the snowhouses.

  “What is it?” Iniru asked.

  “Kagi of some sort. Haven’t encountered them before. Should we crowd into a snowhouse and block the entrance? Or should we run. They’re moving fast.”

  “If we block ourselves in we’ll lose our sonoke,” Narbenu replied.

  “I can guard them, master,” Motekeru called out.

  “Risky,” Iniru said. “You’re not invulnerable, big guy.”

  “My flames will scare off whatever they are.”

  Turesobei still had his sensing active. He focused and searched out for the creatures again so he could count how many there were, but the creatures were gone!

  “They’ve vanished! Lu Bei, do you see anything?”

  As he continued to circle overhead, Lu Bei shouted down. “Nothing, master.”

  “How could they vanish?” Enashoma said.

  Narbenu glanced everywhere. “I can’t think of anything. We should stay on our guard. Better yet, let’s move on. Can you do the mirrors?”

  “I’ll do them gladly. Everyone get your gear and mounts. Let’s get out of here.”

  Kemsu darted into the boys’ snowhouse. “I’ll get the blankets and pack our supplies while you all get the mounts ready.”

  “I’ll do the same,” Kurine offered and she ducked inside the girl’s snowhouse.

  Turesobei pushed the sensing spell back, reducing its strength temporarily, while he cast the spell of the moon mirrors. As soon as the mirrors were active, he picked up the kagi again. Coming in fast and they were almost right on top of them. But that didn’t make any sense because they hadn’t spotted them. Were the kagi invisible? The beasts had disappeared from his sensing and then —

  He looked down at his feet.

  “They’re coming up from underneath us!” he shouted. “They went too deep for me to detect and now they’re —”

  From inside the girl’s snowhouse, Kurine screamed.

  Chapter 38

  Rig and Ohma charged into the snowhouse. Turesobei dove in after them. As he stood, hunched over due to the low ceiling, a wave of revulsion hit him and he nearly retched. A kagi no bigger than the hounds had pounced onto Kurine and wrapped six suckered tentacles around her arms and two around her waist. An ichor that stunk of sulfur and rotting flesh oozed from its pulsing, fanged maw. Each drop that touched the floor melted the ice. Each drop that touched Kurine’s arms melted through her parka and burned her skin. The kagi tried to pull Kurine’s head to its mouth, but she had latched her hands around the beast’s head and was holding it back. Kurine’s arms were shaking as they weakened under its grip. Two of its seven eyestalks whipped around and glared at Turesobei. Another two eyestalks flashed at the hounds.

  Turesobei recognized the creature from the Manual of Demon Beasts Most Uncommon — an orugukagi. Information flashed through his conscious mind — fast swimmers — voracious hunger — sensitive to light — tentacles like an octopus — flippers and the long body of a seal — spikes on their suckers causing temporary, localized paralysis — acidic saliva — its bite —

  Turesobei drew his knife. “Kurine! Its bite is deadly!”

  Tentacles whipped up from a hole in the floor at the back of the snowhouse as another beast pulled itself in. The hounds intercepted that beast while Turesobei lunged toward the one latched onto Kurine. He stabbed the orugukagi in the body, pulled the blade free, and slashed off the two eyestalks that glared at him. But the demon-beast didn’t release Kurine. It gripped tighter. The beast knew its wounds were temporary, that its eyestalks would grow back. This was why Turesobei so desperately needed his white-steel sword. One slash and this fiend would be dead.

  Turesobei drew back to stab it again, but another demon-beast burst out from the hole and launched itself through the air, hurtling toward him. He ducked and the beast flew over his head. But as it passed, a tentacle lashed him across the cheek, scratching deep enough to draw blood.

  Kurine screamed. Her arms fell limp. She jerked her head to the side. The orugukagi missed her neck but bit deep into her shoulder. She moaned and slumped to the ground. The creature that had flown over Turesobei’s head surged toward him, but Lu Bei zipped in through the entrance and sparked it in the face, disorienting it. Turesobei plunged his knife into the head of the orugukagi biting Kurine.

  One of the hounds yelped in pain. Lu Bei flashed by Turesobei and sparked the second orugukagi again. Two more beasts crawled out of the hole. Turesobei repeatedly plunged the knife into the head of the beast that had bitten Kurine. Finally, it loosened its grip and relaxed its tentacles, falling away, wounded and confused.

  The scuttling and barking of more demons echoed up through the hole. The tunnel wasn’t newly made. It must’ve lain there unused, sealed over by only a thin layer of ice, and they just hadn’t noticed when they’d made the snowhouse.

  The hounds couldn’t fend off three of the beasts. An orugukagi engulfed Rig in tentacles and bit deep into the hound’s flank. As Rig sank with a whimper, Ohma tore at the beast on her brother, but another orugukagi caught Ohma as well. That left Turesobei and Lu Bei to face two of them with more on the way. Lu Bei shot sparks from each hand, trying to keep the orugukagi Back. That slowed them only a little.

  Turesobei hooked Kurine’s arm over his shoulder and started dragging her back. Tapping a heavy amount of internal kenja, Turesobei chanted the spell of the moon mirrors, hoping to blind the orugukagi. But the poison from the tentacle that had struck him had numbed his cheek. He slurred his words and the spell failed. Two more beasts slithered up out of the hole. It was hopeless.

  A tentacle latched onto Lu Bei, grabbing him by the wing. Lu Bei hit the ground and shrieked. Lu Bei sparked the creature but it didn’t let go. Turesobei started toward him.

  “Go, master!” Lu Bei yelled. “Get out of here!”

  Motekeru burst suddenly into the snowhouse. With his claws he tore through the beast grasping Lu Bei. Then he turned his bronze head toward the hounds and the five more orugukagi charging toward them. His hideous, jagged mouth opened and a gout of flame burst out, engulfing the hounds and the demon-beasts. The heat was so great Turesobei had to throw up his hand to shield his face. The hounds … the poor hounds …

  The ice began to melt around them. Iniru crawled through the snowhouse entrance. “Do you need —”

  Turesobei shoved Kurine toward her. “Pull her out. Fast!”

  Iniru took Kurine and pulled her out. Flames still poured from Motekeru’s mouth. With the one wing he could still move shielding him from the heat of the flames, Lu Bei limped toward Turesobei. He grabbed up the fetch and scurried out of the entrance.

  With Lu Bei turning into a book in his hands, Turesobei said to the others, “What in Torment took you all so long to …”

  Narbenu lay on the ice clutching a limp arm. Blood oozed through a hole in his clothes. Zaiporo sat gasping for air, unharmed. Enashoma knelt beside him, splattered by orugukagi guts. Two orugukagi lay dead,
their bodies rent in half by Motekeru’s claws. A giant block of ice, ripped free from the boy’s snowhouse, plugged a second hole in the ice.

  “Oh,” Turesobei responded.

  “Kurine!” Kemsu yelled. He slid down next to her and took her hand. “She’s not conscious.”

  Iniru pulled Kurine’s hair back revealing the wound on her shoulder. “Ugh. That’s not good.”

  “One of the orugukagi bit her,” Turesobei said, slurring his words. “Their bite …”

  “Do something for her,” Kemsu said.

  “I can’t. Not now.”

  “Sobei,” Enashoma said. “What’s wrong with your voice? You sound drunk.”

  He touched the deep scratch that trailed across his cheek from his ear lobe to the edge of his lips. “Paralyzed my cheek. I can’t cast any spells until it wears off. I’ve already tried. We have to get out of here. There are more on the way. Motekeru can’t fight them all. Iniru, Shoma, Kemsu, get the mounts.”

  “But Kurine,” Kemsu said.

  “I know,” Turesobei told him. “Get the mounts. I’ll stay with her.”

  As the others went to get the sonoke, the snowhouse behind Turesobei collapsed. Melting ice blocks tumbled away as Motekeru surged free, a hound tucked under each arm. Miraculously, they were still alive. And somehow completely unharmed by the flames.

  Turesobei helped Narbenu get in the saddle.

  “I’ll be fine, lad,” the goronku said. “As soon as I can move my arm again.”

  “Hand Kurine up to me,” Kemsu said. “I’ll hold onto her. I can guide the sonoke with my knees well enough.”

  Turesobei and Iniru lifted Kurine up and placed her in front of Kemsu who leaned back as far as he could to make her comfortable and then wrapped his hands around her waist.

  “I’ll keep the hounds,” Motekeru said.

  The block of ice plugging the hole outside shifted and resettled. Turesobei tried to cast the spell of the moon mirrors but again his words slurred and the spell didn’t go off.

  “Sorry, we’re going to have to ride by moonlight.” Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of that.