The Black Librarian Archives

Home > Other > The Black Librarian Archives > Page 5
The Black Librarian Archives Page 5

by Taylor Clogston


  “What about the spirit scholarship?” asked Dan. “Don’t they cover all your bills for the year?”

  Richard looked away. “I won’t join the military,” he said. “Not an option. I want to do something good with my life, not just go out and kill people in a war I know nothing about.”

  Marit nodded. “That’s something I think we all share. We want something important. If we need to take risks to get there, so be it.” She sighed and closed her pouches containing the spell scrolls. “Well, now you know. It’s only gonna get worse from here. Less treasure, more danger. You still in?”

  Dan picked himself up from the floor, stretching. These people were like him. They were willing to undertake such risks as traps and monsters to make their way to a better life. Dan could go to another, safer club, but he felt a sense of companionship here. It was something he could get used to. “Count me in,” he said with a smile, and the others returned his grin, Richard even giving the thumbs-up.

  The party set back through the dungeon. After a few minutes they began to chat and even to laugh. It wasn’t the home Dan had left, but it was the beginning of the home he had found at the University.

  Chapter 6

  After breakfast the next day, Dan waited by the University’s iron gate. Ruckus lay flopped over on the ground, as he always enjoyed doing. The spirit dog raised his head just as Dan was beginning to think Marit wouldn’t arrive. “Here she comes.”

  Marit raised an eyebrow as Dan stood and waved. “Were you waiting for me?” she asked.

  “I wanted to come and see the bookstore where you’ll be selling the scrolls,” said Dan. “I read a lot of books back home at the library, but I didn’t get to take any with me.”

  Marit glanced over her shoulder. “There’s a library here too,” she said. “Just get books there. You’re a student; they’ll let you.”

  “Yeah,” said Dan, “But...” It would sound silly to someone who had grown up in the city. He had owned so little his whole life, and now that it looked like he would have a good amount of money… “I want to see what they have,” he lied. It really didn’t matter what their selection was. He wanted a book he could call his own.

  Marit sighed. “Fine, come on.” She led Dan through two alleys to a small shop with iron-bound windows. “I don’t know what you were expecting, but here it is.”

  To Dan’s mind it didn’t look like a bookshop. It didn’t really look like anything. He followed Marit through the door anyway. “Thanks—”

  Marit walked away, ignoring him, past the thin-cheeked woman at the front and through a curtain formed of long strips of fabric suspended from a doorway to the back.

  The old lady squinted at Dan. “Never seen you round here before,” she said. “You Marit’s new muscle? Don’t look like it.”

  Dan was taken aback. “I’m just a student at the University. I wanted to browse your books.”

  She nodded. “Uh huh. Don’t get sticky fingers. I’ll be watching you.”

  “Y-yes ma’am.” Dan glanced down at Ruckus who was sniffing the air.

  “I think this may be a store of… used goods,” said the spirit dog in an amused voice. The woman at the desk paid no attention.

  Of course, thought Dan. A fencer’s den. He had read about those in adventure stories. The book store itself must be a front, judging by the poor condition of the goods. It didn’t matter, though, so long as they still had things to read. Dan wandered for a good ten minutes, waiting for Marit to return, picking up books from stacks lying around and looking through their titles.

  Many were old ledgers, probably ones which had been thrown away and taken by the store to bulk up their appearance of selection. Perhaps one out of every three was a novel or work of nonfiction, and Dan read the first few pages of each with interest.

  Some titles he recognized, but most were new to him. He didn’t like the condition most were in and so returned them to their places. He figured most customers entering for the books themselves would leave in disgust after seeing the wares’ condition, and it would suit a fencer’s den just fine.

  But finally Dan found what appeared to be an interesting novel, one in fantastic shape. When the Lions Came, by Ulfrid Redsward. Dan hadn’t read it, and it looked promising. He took it to the front desk. “What’s the price of this?” he asked.

  The gray-haired woman opened the book and looked at the front and back leaves. “Four silver,” she said, a cold gleam in her eyes.

  Dan’s heart thudded. Four silver. A ridiculously high amount of money for anything, he thought, let alone a book. He opened his pouch and counted what was inside.

  Tarissa had told him dungeon coins were taken at the same value as true silvers by ordinary townsfolk and shopkeepers, but that members of guild-sponsored organizations could trade them upward for a premium. Marit had mentioned an underhanded way of getting a sliver of a profit from the coins without guild involvement, but Dan decided he didn’t want to get involved with black market dealings. Aside from the part where he was likely buying stolen goods. “Are you… sure about the price?” he asked, cursing the uncertainty in his voice. Dan tried to bring to mind stories of clever slave girls tricking caravan owners and of shrewd old men fleecing guilds, but their uncanny street smarts were beyond his grasp.

  “This is a shop, ain’t it?” snapped the old woman. She pulled the book back, holding it out of Dan’s reach. “I gave you the price. You want it or not?”

  Dan felt a greedy knot in his stomach as he looked at the cloth cover. A majestic wide-maned head stamped in gold leaf decorated the front. He needed it. Confined to the Rimoir library’s limited selection, Dan hadn’t read a new novel in years.

  “Give him a fair price, you old hag.” It was Marit, having returned from the back room. A burly man with a black beard and thick eyebrows stood behind her, smiling in a way that was simultaneously calculating and jolly.

  Dan turned as the old woman snorted. “What?” asked Dan.

  “You didn’t really think that was anything remotely close to a fair price, did you?” scolded Marit. She stormed close and grabbed the book from the woman, turning it around in her hands. “Four silver? Seriously?”

  “He said he wasn’t with you,” the woman said defensively.

  ”Well, he is, so give him a fair price.” Marit dropped the book onto the dirty countertop and shot a pitying look at Dan.

  The old woman shrugged. “One silver, three pennies.”

  “One silver even,” said Marit.

  “Fine,” she replied, glaring at the trapmaster. “One silver, and get the hell out of my shop.”

  Dan nodded, feeling foolish, and put one of his dungeon coins onto the table. The old woman snatched it up, clearly afraid Marit would try to drop the price even lower, and shoved the book at Dan.

  As the two students left the store, Ruckus in tow, Dan turned toward Marit and tried to smile. “Thanks. I didn’t realize I’d be such a burden.”

  “Nothing to worry about,” said Marit. “I should’ve warned you. If you want a real book store, there’s one near the autobus station. Really though, just stick with the University library in the future.”

  “Probably a good idea,” said Dan. “So, what did you get for the scroll?”

  She shook a cloth pouch without looking at Dan. “Three silver and halfpenny. It’ll go towards expenses like the extra treasure did.”

  “What kind of expenses?”

  Marit gave Dan an amused look. “Buying more shards? We don’t have an unlimited supply of them.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing. You just haven’t learned everything yet.” She fastened the pouch to her belt. “This amount will get us a more common shard. Probably more dangerous, too. Might not even give as much treasure as the first.”

  Dan looked up at the sky. There were some clouds, but it could still be called a sunny day. He wondered how the rest of his adopted family was doing at the orphanage. They would likely be checking
on seedlings in the fields right now. “What you said in the dungeon. I came here for a reason too.” He gave a look to Marit he hoped was firm and confident. “And I’m not going to back away from danger. I’m going to study here, become a better person than I have any right to be. I don’t know how things are in the city, but in the country you don’t learn to write unless someone’s kind enough to teach you and you spend all your free time learning.” He held the book up. “It’s more than just something to pass the time, it’s proof I can do all this.” He gestured around. “The city, the University, all of it.”

  Marit lowered her eyes, her voice growing more gentle. “Reading means that much to you?”

  “Not just the reading. I want to be a Librarian. I want to be like the one I grew up with, someone who helps others become more than they could be on their own.”

  ”You don’t need to study here to do that. You don’t need to be a Librarian, I mean.” Marit sighed, looking up at the sky. “Plenty of people help just by doing the right thing without getting an expensive degree. It kind of seems like a waste of time and money to me.”

  Dan cocked his head. “Why are you here if you believe that?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “There’s someone here I have to find,” she said. “It’d sound crazy if I told you the whole story, but—”

  “I’m the last person to judge someone else’s crazy story,” Dan interjected. “I have my fair share.”

  Marit stopped, and Dan almost ran into her. Marit’s eyes were serious. Their bright amber against her dark skin reminded Dan of an owl, wise and cunning. “Then proclaimed we those multitude suns,” she chanted softly, “Hung in tides tossed, and small gods among.”

  Dan knew the lines. They were from the poem I Sailed Away the Starlit Night by the ancient poet Orsen. “Those called my companions all have died. Turned back to land, the land turned to tide. We float alone on the frozen sea. Dying planets. Small gods. Me.” He closed his eyes, remembering the first time he had read the poem, how its ethereal voice had reminded him of the night he had come into the world through that scape of warped reality. “I didn’t know you liked to read,” Dan said, opening his eyes and grinning. “Or that you had good taste in poems.”

  “It’s a true piece,” said Marit. “Whoever wrote it felt the same things I do. There are other worlds out there. In them are things I’ve lost, I think.” She began to walk again. “The University will help me find them.”

  Dan wanted to tell her how there were other worlds, and how he had lived in one, but he couldn’t imagine a way it wouldn’t sound patronizing. He could tell her later, he supposed, when he had earned her trust. When she wouldn’t think he was mocking her. For now Dan was content with the knowledge there was another person at the University who, in some small way, shared in something he held special. He didn’t want to ruin that.

  They returned to the University, having made casual conversation in the mean time. Dan nodded a final thanks to Marit before returning to his room. With a sigh, he flopped down on his bed. Ruckus curled up at Dan’s feet as the weary student opened his new book and began to read.

  When the first lions came to the shore-dwelling people of the Unwhirling Isle, they were known by a different name, and thought of as Demons. In those days the people hunted with stone blades and wore only the skins of beasts…

  Chapter 7

  The next day was the University’s induction ceremony. Dan looked forward to it, though the rest of the club seemed uninterested.

  “We just stand there and the professors pretend to be awesome for the benefit of first-year students,” said Richard. “Nothing special once you’ve seen it before.”

  “Well, I haven’t,” said Dan. He was sitting on his bed in the dorm, reading his book. He had read late into the previous night, enthralled by the story of an aged woman who had been the first in her tribe to kill a lion, a creature previously unknown to them.

  “Here,” said Richard. He threw a bundle at Dan, who caught it, losing his place in the book.

  “Hey!” protested Dan. “What’s this?” He opened the bundle and found a set of dark pants, a jacket, and a belt.

  “School uniform,” said Richard. “I picked it up from the office for you. No one’s allowed to wear them before the ceremony today, but most students do afterward. Makes people respect you, and it’s pretty sturdy since so many students take dirty or rough courses.”

  Dan rubbed the hem of the jacket between his fingers. The thick canvas was soft, its fabric dyed a deep gray that was nearly black. Five over-sized silver buttons lined the front and silver-gray bands accented the whole uniform. Two broad pockets adorned the hips. The clothes were finer than anything Dan had ever owned, and he was terrified he would ruin them. “What if I don’t want to wear it?”

  Richard shrugged. “If it’s not your thing, it’s not your thing. But you’re required to during ceremonies and classes. You can have it modified, too. I made the tail of mine shorter; I hate sitting on my coat.”

  He pulled his own uniform out from under his bed where it had been stored in a flattened bag. “Oh, and the uniform’s covered in your tuition. If you need repairs or replacements, it’ll come out of your own pocket.”

  Dan stood and put the jacket on over his shirt. It didn’t fit like something tailored, but was comfortable. Thin padding lined the shoulders, and the seams felt flexible. He decided he would get it tailored in the city at some point if the expense wasn’t too great. Dan had no idea how much clothes like these cost to upkeep. “How do I look?”

  “Like a proper student of the University,” said Richard with a grin. “Oh, and make sure you put your ribbon on, too. It says how long you’ve been here.” He pinned a red ribbon to his lapel, and Dan did the same with his blue.

  “Let’s get this over with,” said Richard, and they left for the ceremony.

  ***

  University faculty had set up a podium before the main building, leaving plenty of room for students to gather. Dan and Richard had a hard time finding the rest of the club in the sea of black and silver uniforms, but eventually the Treasure Hunting Club members met and tried to find a decent spot.

  The female uniform was similar to the male incarnation but with a shorter collar, a tighter waist, and a knee-length skirt instead of pants. Dan thought it looked good on Marit, but said nothing. Of all the club members, Tor Pin’s uniform suited him the least. It was baggy around the shoulders and stiff in the way he buttoned up the whole front. He had stuffed his pockets full of various supplies and papers, one of which kept coming loose and fluttering to the ground, leaving Tor Pin scrabbling around the grass for it.

  The crowd went very quiet, if not completely silent. Dan peered over some of the taller students in front of him to see the headmistress standing at the raised podium. She wore an ornate dress styled to be reminiscent of a student uniform, but with a longer skirt and more silver, prominently as a crest similar to the colored ribbons worn by the students. The headmistress raised a Mystic bead in front of her and crushed it between black-gloved fingers, releasing the spell bound inside. Her voice became clear to Dan. It seemed as though she was speaking in front of him in a calm voice, not far away and shouting as he would have expected.

  “Welcome, students, to the ceremony of welcoming and induction.” She gestured widely. “You all should know me, but my name is Opaline Retiant, headmistress of this University at Ormuil. I am not the first woman to have the honor of this position, but I am the youngest, and I urge you all rise to the example I have set.

  “Those of you who are young, do not let your age prevent you from greatness. If you work hard and put your body and soul into your work, you can accomplish wonderful things. I give a special welcome to our first-year students who come from a wide range of social and economic classes to better themselves at this, undoubtedly the most prestigious university in the civilized world.”

  She pulled a piece of paper from her sleeve. “It looks like we still have two hundr
ed tickets available for the welcoming banquet tonight, the first hundred of which will be available for one silver and the rest of which will be raffled at twopenny a ticket. I urge you all to try to get a seat; the meal is always fantastic.”

  She looked up, smiling. “Congratulations to those of you who have qualified for our various scholarships. I am sure you will do us proud.”

  Retiant turned and gestured behind her. “At this time I would like to welcome to the podium Professor Sinclind, our Dean of Magic, who has asked to give an announcement.”

  Dan frowned as headmistress Retiant stepped down and the professor took her place.

  Sinclind looked like a storybook wizard. He was ancient, completely bald, and wore a black and silver outfit which seemed more akin to a rich merchant’s bathrobe than the almost military uniforms of the rest of the staff. His eyes glinted with cunning, and he looked around the crowd with a sneering, oily grin.

  “Welcome,” he said in a magically enhanced baritone. Dan started. He hadn’t seen the professor use a Mystic bead like the headmistress had. The professor must have broken one beforehand.

  “In only one week, classes will begin,” continued Sinclind. “I urge those of you who have not yet applied for majors to switch to Magical Studies, clearly the most prestigious of them all.” He paused, as though waiting for laughter, but none came. He coughed.

  “We have received an additional incentive to join the Contractor military program, which I will be personally overseeing. I am sorry to say this indicates poor performance on the western front.

  “I know not all the details, but the enemy is ever vigilant.” He rustled a few papers which Dan hadn’t seen him take out, and cleared his throat. “All students who graduate with the recommendation of the University will be at once inducted as sergeants third class.”

 

‹ Prev