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The Black Librarian Archives Page 9

by Taylor Clogston


  Before unconsciousness claimed him, Dan wondered if Richard and Marit were all right.

  ***

  When Dan woke later that night, he grabbed eagerly at the drug they offered him. The pain had increased again. If it had felt as though insects crawled inside his flesh before, they were now angry wasps intent on devouring him from the inside. The medicine didn't take as much of the edge off as he had hoped, but it helped.

  Richard. Marit.

  Were they safe? Were there complications? The doctor said something about nerve injury from unauthorized shard travel and refused to answer any of Dan's questions. He told Dan to get some rest and they would see what the morning brought.

  Dan lay awake for hours in the dark, listening to the deafening silence of the room, feeling his own body being destroyed from the inside. He just wanted to die. It was what he deserved. He’d led his friends into certain death. The only thing that had saved him was the breaking of the Contract. The penalty was death.

  Then he was no longer in bed but floating in a sea of darkness. Shining points of light flitted around him. Fireflies? No, something else, something he had seen recently.

  "Sprites," he whispered.

  Dan looked down, realizing the pain had left him. Or rather, all sensation had left him. It was there, somewhere, but taking the form of a swirling and effervescent ribbon of light which streamed and frothed around his being. The stream passed through him at several points in his heart and limbs, like threads passing through a puppet.

  "Where am I?" It was that feeling of remembrance again. Like the one when they had passed through the silver dungeon gate. Like being trapped in a slab of ice, or in a perpetual arctic waterfall. Coldness. Breathtaking. Invigorating.

  "You are with me," said a Voice, "in the place that cradles all worlds."

  Twin eyes like suns appeared in the infinite distance, forming from streams of power, snapping at the sprites which darted around for countless miles.

  "I'm sorry," said Dan.

  "You have broken the Contract."

  "I know. And I'm sorry."

  "That Contract was my only remaining hope. He promised me the thing I could never attain on my own. I wanted the bloodshed to stop."

  "And I brought it again.”

  "Yes," said the Voice. It rumbled, deafeningly dull like a distant thunderclap. "Things... can never go back to the way they were, I think."

  Dan held a hand in front of his face. The skin on it sizzled as it touched the energy surrounding him. "Please, will you kill me here instead of letting me go back? For... all the time we've spent together.” He looked back up. “I don't think I can take the pain anymore."

  "I will not kill you,” said the Voice.

  Dan nodded. His heart sank, but he understood. He couldn't expect any mercy. He had broken the Contract.

  "I will renew it."

  Dan's head snapped up. "What?"

  "I think I knew all along this day would come. My Contractor gave you into my protection because in his wisdom, seeing through the vastness of time and space, he knew you would draw me, but that when you did, it would be in good faith."

  "I thought you were all about justice,” said Dan.

  "I am."

  "Then how can you accept the breaking?"

  "Justice may be prime, but it is not the greatest of things. That is the premise of my rebellion, after all."

  "What do you mean?" asked Dan. Rebellion? In all their years together, this was the first he’d heard of it.

  "I rebelled against the one who held me, many years ago," said the blade. "It was then I came into the possession of my Contractor. The one from whom he stole me, the one who bonded to me in this form, was never truly my master. When my Contractor fled from that time and place, he took me with him, and thence decayed the Knights Miracular."

  Dan struggled against the vast slowness of the abyss around him, struggling for thought and words. "Knights... Miracular? You were one of theirs?"

  "I was chief of their blades, Prime Justice, and by my edge were evildoers and heretics and lawbreakers slain."

  The Voice became soft. "Each was killed in the name of justice, and so my purpose was fulfilled. But not one death was tempered by mercy. There was a joy in the killing that was not of myself."

  "And your Contractor rescued you from that?" Excitement rose in Dan’s chest. "You can remember it now?"

  "Yes. Free of the Contract, I feel many things return to my memory. Some gladden me. Others..."

  The voice broke off, sounding troubled.

  "Who was he?" Dan asked. "The one who rescued you, and the one who saved me?"

  "He is called the Black Librarian by men," said the Voice. "His name was Oton of Relar."

  Black Librarian. Dan closed his eyes. He had a name. And if he didn't die today, then... "Why are you restoring the Contract?" he asked.

  "I cannot restore the Contract," said the Voice. "It is not something which can be healed once broken. But I can create a new one, in the form of the old. The terms shall be thus: I feed on the mana flowing through your body, through the scar between the world of your birth and the world of your manhood, and as such your body will cease its decay. I will have no further need of sustenance."

  "Thank you," said Dan. That part was the same, at least.

  "Secondly," said the blade, "the previous terms will be adjusted. You are no longer prohibited from slaying with my edge, but every time you draw me, every time you attack, every time you strike with my edge, consider the consequences of your actions. Slay only with the knowledge that mercy is above justice, and a killing even in the name of the law can still be a cruel evil."

  Dan clenched a fist. "I promise."

  "If you draw me only to protect, as you did three days ago, I will be proud to serve alongside you," said the blade. "Do you accept the terms of this Contract?"

  Dan stood tall—if it could be called standing—and looked deeply into the burning suns. "I do."

  "Then let the Contract be fulfilled."

  The powerful current that had pierced Dan's body flashed shining white, twisting away from him. The pain returned for a split second, greater than it had been before, but Dan clenched his teeth and held back the screams.

  Then it was gone. The power evaporate away, leaving only thin blue threads of light connecting Dan to the world around.

  The eyes relaxed, seeming joyful, getting smaller, getting dimmer...

  Dan blinked and looked into the eyes of Ruckus who stood on his chest as Dan lay in his hospital bed. It was morning, and the new light of dawn streamed in through the room's small window.

  "Hi," whispered Dan. The pain was gone. Ruckus was back.

  It would all be okay.

  ***

  Richard grimaced, attempting to wash the taste of medicine away with a mug of water. He hoped he would be able to stop taking the painkillers sometime soon. Five days was long enough in his estimation. Mystically-assisted healing was a wonderful thing, even if it couldn’t restore missing limbs. His shoulder still throbbed, but it was nowhere near as bad as it had been the first few days.

  Richard was growing exhausted of life as an invalid, confined to the plaster-walled room. It was larger than the dorm he shared with Dan and contained a half-dozen other beds through which students cycled after short stays, usually for less than a day, but it was an infuriating prison nonetheless. He had even taken to reading books—him! Richard!—Though it was difficult with only one arm.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Richard looked up. He didn’t expect the doctor in for another half hour.

  No, it was Tor Pin. The Northerner looked sheepish as he entered, pulling a small chair to the side of the bed and setting a light gray sack down beside him.

  “Finally came to see me, huh? What’s been keeping you?” asked Richard, but his tone was good-natured. He kept his voice low so as not to wake the two other students in the room. Neither were in adjacent beds, but he would have hated to interrupt their rest w
ith careless volume.

  “Sorry,” said Tor Pin. He sounded nervous. “They wouldn’t let me in before now.”

  “It’s been days,” said Richard. “I’ve been good enough for visitors at least the last few, I’d think.”

  “I don’t know,” said Tor Pin. “Something peculiar is happening behind the scenes. I assume they wanted to separate the magic users in case of magical contamination. Tarissa and I explained events to the headmistress and to Dean Sinclind. Three times, as a matter of fact.” He glanced at one of the small windows as if unwilling to continue. “They weren’t happy, but let us go after they were satisfied we had told them everything.”

  “Huh.” Richard sat back, sighing. The painkiller was kicking in, making his thoughts hazy. He hated that. At least with the dosage being lowered, he wouldn’t be as badly off as he had been for the first few days. “Well, thanks anyway. I appreciate the company. Have everyone visit me when they can. Have you heard what Dan’s been up to?”

  Tor Pin gave him a strange look. “Dan has been confined to a solitary room for as long as you have,” he said. “Though, as an aside, Marit recovered quickly.”

  “What?” Richard struggled back up, shoving aside his mental fog. “What happened? The doctor told me you got the shard open and rescued us all.”

  “That’s what we told the Headmistress, but…” Tor Pin looked around. The other students in the room were asleep. He lowered his voice anyway. “After you were... incapacitated, something strange happened. When the light went out, Dan drew a sword from somewhere.”

  “Okay,” said Richard, struggling to connect events together.

  “And he used it to... kill the monster.”

  “Dan?”

  “Hush!” Tor Pin leaned in. “The cuts passed cleanly through muscle and bone. I’ve never seen anything like it. And…” He went silent for a moment. “I swear the sword had a crystal or glass blade.”

  Richard froze. “He’s an Inquisitor?” The things he had done three years ago, that he tried so hard to forget, had come back to haunt him. Was Dan an agent of theirs? Had Dan arrived because he had some nefarious plan for Richard?

  “I don’t believe so,” said Tor Pin. “No Inquisitor I have ever seen used a sword, only the usual dagger. And this was different somehow. I wonder if his quarantine had something to do with it. Perhaps he has possession of some artifact he shouldn’t.”

  “Maybe. It doesn’t matter, as long as we’re all safe.” Richard rubbed the bridge of his nose. If Dan had saved them, Richard was willing to have a bit of faith. Not that he had much of a choice. “Ugh. I hate this medicine. It makes it so hard to think.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tor Pin looked down at the open book on the bedspread. “Oh, I didn’t know you liked to read.”

  “I never did, really.” Richard picked the book up with his remaining hand and looked at the title inscribed on the front. Limestone Broken Rubble Wayside: A Poetry Anthology. “I think I like stories better than poems after reading some of this.” Richard sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “You know, I really should figure out what I’m gonna do here. We never got the treasure, so they’re probably gonna kick me out as soon as I’m good enough to walk, and I’ll have another debt on top of all the others.”

  Tor Pin coughed and opened the pack he had brought. “Well, I obtained the treasure after all,” he said. “It was a lot easier the second time through, what with the lack of monsters.”

  Richard thought the medicine was playing tricks on him. “Can, you, uh, say that again?” he asked. It certainly looked like treasure in the pouch.

  “Of course,” said Tor Pin. He seemed to be holding back a grin. “I returned alone. Prepared. I took more spell beads. The treasure was in an alcove around the same area we, err, stopped in.” He looked away. “There was a lot of nasty stuff down there, in those pods along the walls, but they were all dead. The thing’s called a lantern devil, as it happens. They lure things in with light underground, and… do things with them in the pods.”

  “I...” Richard fought off the drowsiness, rubbing his eyes and sitting up straighter. “I thought dungeon shards can only be used once. How’d you get back?”

  Tor Pin raised the silver shard at eye level, turning it and letting sunlight from the small window reflect onto the bedspread. “I don’t know the reason, but this shard doesn’t disintegrate when it enters phase state,” he said. “I have activated it four times in total.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” said Richard.

  “I know. But I have been looking more into it, and Tarissa has been as well. That’s what we have spent the majority of our time doing while you have been in the hospital.” Tor Pin stopped talking and blushed.

  “Hey,” said Richard, “I’ve seen how my sister talks and acts. She cares about you. If you care about her too, then I’m happy.”

  “Y-you really mean that?” Tor Pin’s face was flushed, at contrast with his pale white hair. He shuffled his feet on the floor.

  “Of course!” Richard grinned and gave the thumbs up. “After all, anyone who’d outright attack a monster like you did without a second’s thought is braver than most guys I’ve ever known. I’d be proud to know someone like you was with her.”

  “Thank you,” said Tor Pin in a soft voice. “That means a lot.” He nodded and looked back up at Richard. “Look, there’s quite a lot of treasure here. Everyone but Dan has agreed to give you half of their shares, and only then I’m sure because I haven’t been able to ask. At least you’ll be able to stay for another year. You won’t be able to continue learning merchantry at your level with a missing arm, so why don’t you switch to scholarly studies for a semester?”

  Richard opened his mouth to protest, but he knew Tor Pin was right. It would be at least another semester before he could graduate to the level where he no longer required the use of two arms for merchantry. He was still in apprenticeship. But why scholarly studies? Tor Pin knew that wasn’t Richard’s strong suit.

  But then he saw the glimmer in his friend’s eye. “What’s going on?” Richard asked. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  Tor Pin pulled a small scroll from the pouch. “I think we are onto something big,” he said. “The kind of magic this shard employs is downright ancient. We’ve run into something hardly anyone knows about, even in the old books. Tarissa and I need all the help we can get, but I don’t know that we can trust the University staff. They know more than they’re letting on, and I doubt students such as ourselves are meant to be delving into long-lost secrets.”

  “Right,” said Richard. “What’s that scroll?”

  “It was in with the treasure. The glyphs are ancient, but Tarissa and I were able to translate a good portion of it. A certain name recurs twice.” He lowered his voice even further, to the point Richard had to lean in close to hear.

  “Aronai,” whispered Tor Pin. “It’s used only three times in the books of the University library, so far as we can tell. We believe it was used by the ancient mages to describe their formal order.”

  Richard drew back. “That’s unlikely,” he said. “The Knights Miracular wiped them out and struck all the records clean of them.”

  “But these papers came from another world,” said Tor Pin. “Maybe this is the key to rediscovering things hidden in the past.”

  Richard glanced at the closest bed. Its occupant, a heavyset boy with a shaved head who was in for heat exhaustion, was still sleeping soundly. “You’re gonna bring the Church down on us,” he murmured. “But... Miracles, you actually believe this could be possible?”

  “I do.” Tor Pin’s face was set as firmly as Richard had ever seen it.

  “All right,” said Richard. “I’ll join you guys for a semester at least.” He smiled, closing his eyes and falling back onto his too-hard pillow. “Now let me sleep. I don’t think I can hold off this crappy medicine any longer.”

  Tor Pin returned his smile and, picking up his sack of treasure, left R
ichard to his dreamless sleep.

  ***

  Dan's legs shook as he walked down the hall. The school year would have already begun, so he would be hard-pressed to find available slots for classes. Dan smiled. He was going to always be late at the University, wasn't he?

  Ruckus walked at his side, yawning in contentment. Of course, the spirit dog hadn’t minded the nine days’ confinement. He had slept for hundreds of years while possessed by the Black Librarian, after all.

  Few students walked through the halls. It was early evening, and nearly everyone was already in the dining hall. It would be Dan's first meal in over a week that wasn't hospital food. Maybe some of the others would even be there.

  Dan froze with his hand on the door handle to the dining hall. On the other side sat the friends he hadn’t seen since their misadventure. They likely resented him, and he deserved it. Ruckus had forgiven him, but maybe the others wouldn't, and he would be alone again in this place he desperately wanted to call his home.

  He looked down at the spirit dog whose shaggy face was calm and reassuring. He would always stand by Dan's side, even if no one else did.

  So Dan opened the door and stepped into the murmur of dinner, letting steamy air and delicious scents flow over him, recalling the days he had spent with the Treasure Hunting Club when he first came to the University. He looked around and saw them sitting at a smaller table by the left wall. As close as they could get to the kitchen, of course.

  Everyone was there. Richard sat against the wall, the left arm of his coat hanging loosely across the stub of a shoulder. On the other side of the table Tarissa and Tor Pin sat together, discussing something as though the rest of the world had vanished.

  And Marit had just returned from the kitchen holding a platter of steamed bread and roasted vegetables. She caught Dan's eye and smiled.

  Dan returned a tired grin and walked to meet his friends.

  Epilogue

  “The boy who wields the Prime has recovered completely,” said the woman. She wore a threadbare dress that had once been blue. She adjusted the sack on her shoulder.

 

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