by Clark Bolton
The Imperial-Chancellor was eyeing Pesnu-Jok as he said this, and when the attendant handed over the ornately lacquered box directly to Pesnu-Jok, she saw him hesitate just slightly before accepting it. Yi-La’s years of etiquette training within Key-Tar-Om School told her it was an insult to be handed something by a lesser official in this circumstance. She could see why he felt compelled to accept it, for it was the lacquered box her master had closed and sealed personally with his Owesek-ring; the seal was still intact, she could see.
“Do you know of one capable of verifying the seal?” Tu-Dak-Po asked innocently of Yi-La. “One available now to present such a precious gift directly?”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Pesnu-Jok assured him before Yi-La could muster a reply. Pesnu-Jok then pressed the small box into Yi-La’s hands.
“Excellent!” Tu-Dak-Po exclaimed before promptly turning around and striding off.
Before Yi-La could gather her thoughts she found herself surrounded by yellow robes which formed a solid wall that cut her off completely from the Seechen, including even Pesnu-Jok. They seemed intent on pressing her toward the hall’s exit, and so she was forced to stumble along after the flowing robes of the Imperial-Chancellor, all the while pleading with her eyes for someone to rescue her.
“You shall enjoy the Forbidden-Gardens, Fu-Sa,” Tu-Dak-Po promised her over his shoulder as they left the hall. “…And Her Esteemed Ladyship, I’m sure!”
After traveling what seemed like a short distance, Yi-La nearly dropped the box when she looked down to see the red-washed steps beneath her feet. She lost all hope when the gate to the Forbidden-Gardens slammed behind her. Her last view of freedom contained the distant form of a distraught Narween.
“I need to see my master!” she wailed fruitlessly, over and over.
Chapter 11
“Is this the only library in Key-Tar-Om, Master Ren?” Ich-Mek asked the man as they stood watching another official open the doors to the locked chamber.
“No, Fu-Si. But this is the most ancient and the most revered.”
Walking into the chamber, Ich-Mek found himself in impossibly narrow aisles, which required one to walk sideways in order to navigate them. Shelves and pigeon-holes were stacked to the ceiling, which was at least the height of three men above him. What struck him first was the complete absence of dust. It was as if each scroll and book had been placed there the day before, and now some seemed to gleam.
“I seek books on the Owesek…” he told the librarian, “…books, scrolls…anything.”
There was a pause before the Master of Records replied, “Fu-Si, please understand the Regent must authorize removal of any document from this library.”
The man would have bowed as he said this, Ich-Mek was sure, but the narrow aisles they were traversing made it impossible. “Then I’ll read them here. Is there a table I can read at? If not, I’ll sit on the floor,” he told the man.
“There is a table, Fu-Si,” the librarian informed him, then gestured for him to follow.
The first scroll they laid out for him seemed only to contain the vague comments of a court official, who was reminiscing about the Owesek-mages he had known, or someone he knew who had known them. The next was little better, and the next worse than that. Trying not to get frustrated, he told the librarian to simply pile up the texts on the table, and he would take the time to review every one of them.
He felt guilty now about walking away from Rish a short time ago, but then assured himself that Lipa would be found, and so the two would be happy. Perhaps he could have them assigned somewhere prominent, he thought.
He then thought to ask the librarian, “Can you bring me the oldest texts first?” The man was already looking tired.
“I shall try, Fu-Si,” the man replied. “Not all are categorized so. I asked for your patience, Fu-Si.”
“I’m a patient mage,” he replied before picking up the text scroll.
He was surprised when Ont called for him from the door to the library – apparently he had lost track of time. The officials had prevented Ont and his fellow guards from entering, and now it seemed dusk had come. Dutifully, he closed the tome he had been reading, and set it aside next to the high stack of texts he had yet to examine.
“Tomorrow, Master Librarian,” he called out to the man before beginning to make his way down the long narrow aisles. “Leave the texts there for me, please.”
“Yes, Fu-Si” came the unseen reply.
He had managed to find several texts himself by using magic detection cantrips, but these so far had nothing to do with the Owesek, as far as he could tell. Still he felt encouraged by the few tidbits he had found. It did make him wonder, however, if the really substantive texts were to be found elsewhere.
When he stepped out into the light of day, he found the sun still high above the horizon. He turned to look at Ont quizzically. The man simply bowed slightly and motioned toward the Regent’s palace. With a tight smile, Ich-Mek started walking in that direction, and wondered if this was perhaps an opportunity to ask the Regent what he knew of the Owesek.
They were motioned in by Pus-Don servants, who looked eager to lead him before the Regent. When they led him down into the lower levels of the palace, he began to fear he had been reassigned to new quarters. When the smell of strong reagents hit his nose, he realized this might be a professional visit.
The Regent was not alone. Master Ing, the potions master, was with him, and looked pleased to see him, but not so much the Regent. Ober-Toss made him wait at the door, which was an intentional slight, Ich-Mek was sure. They didn’t like each other, he and the Regent, and this seemed to be leading toward sanctions, Ich-Mek felt.
“You are reading, Fu-Si,” the Regent said loudly as he worked with what Ich-Mek guessed were spell components of some type. “I was wondering when you would seek answers.”
Ich-Mek tried to think of a reply that wouldn’t jeopardize his access to the library. “I do, Lord Regent. It is difficult.”
Ober-Toss continued to work rather than look at him. “The old secrets are always difficult. You should gather your scholars…then commit them.”
“I know of none, my lord. The Master Librarian does what he can, I think.”
“He is not as knowledgeable as he portrays himself,” Ober-Toss seemed to warn. “Now, come assist us, Fu-Si. Master Ing thinks your talents are required.”
Ich-Mek took this as an invitation to approach, and after a glance at Ont, he did so. “How may I assist, master?” he asked of Ing.
The problem was explained to him, which was one of timing, he suspected. But as the details were unfolded he began to wonder how his knowledge could possibly exceed that of Master Ing. The man had been his premier alchemy teacher.
“I cannot see what else to try, master,” he told them after Ing reported they had had a number of unsuccessful attempts at combining the reagents.
“We don’t look for experience from you, Ich-Mek…” Ober-Toss said impatiently. “That is Ing’s domain.”
“Then how can I help, my lord?” he asked sincerely.
“The ring, perhaps?”
“I…don’t…”
“Your purity is admirable! Think now of what we do wrong…not what we must do right.”
Ich-Mek felt himself getting irritated at the Regent, but managed to calm himself enough to ask, “May I attempt the process myself?”
Both men looked at him with doubt, before agreeing to step aside. The task was a precursor to others, Ich-Mek was sure. It required three seemingly opposing reagents be mixed in such a manner as to remain in distinct layers. All were liquids, which made the task particularly difficult, and since two of the reagents had affinity for one another, it was doubly so.
He could see that the flask previously used had runes still active on it. These he noted in his mind, then methodically rubbed them from the surface of the glass. Adding the first reagent, which was a pungent oil taken from some animal, he then prepared to add the second.
The runes he drew with quill and ink on the flask were much the same as those Ing had inscribed, he guessed, which made him nervous, as he seemed to be following the same path to failure.
When he got to the third reagent, Ing made a strange comment. “He does not respect them,” the man said.
At first he thought Ing was talking about the reagents themselves, but then thought perhaps he meant the way he was drawing the rune-set. Each rune in the set toyed with the ingredients already in the flask, and so he had been careful to draw them as one rune, rather than a set of individual runes. Moments later, three distinct tiers of liquid could be seen within the flask.
“You have succeeded, Fu-Si!” Ing exclaimed as Ich-Mek stepped back from the table.
The two men then hurried to a second table, apparently to begin the next process. They ignored Ich-Mek for a time, which began to annoy him. This he signaled to Ont with a roll of his eyes. His jailer simply continued to stand emotionless.
Eventually the Regent proclaimed the sun was setting, which resulted in a slow bow from Ont. With a tight smile, Ich-Mek walked out of the room without complaint, with his guards in tow.
__________________________
“You should gather your scholars…then commit them,” Ich-Mek repeated loudly to his friend several times as he paced around in his cell. “What does that mean?” he snapped irritably.
Rish was lying on a bedroll that Ich-Mek had ordered be brought to them, and looked very tired. “I want to know what potion they were making,” Rish replied softly.
“Turning silver to gold, if I know the Regent,” Ich-Mek replied irreverently.
Rish sat up at the comment and asked innocently, “Can you do that?”
“Yes!” Ich-Mek called out with emotion. “But the ingredients cost more than the gold you get!”
“Oh,” Rish said with disappointment. “Well, what then?”
“Don’t care,” Ich-Mek lied. “What I want from Ober-Toss is answers…and if he wants my help again he’d better give some!”
“You’re still in a cell,” Rish declared in a meek voice.
“Yes, still in a cell!” He then worked to calm himself before asking, “How was Lipa?”
“She’s good. Healthy and good.”
Ich-Mek smirked at his friend, figuring he knew what that meant. “How fat is she?”
“Not that fat,” Rish quickly replied in the girl’s defense. “It’s just how fat I can see she is going to be.”
“Find a spell.”
Rish paused for a moment in thought. “Is there one?”
Ich-Mek chuckled at his friend before changing the subject. “How is Bose?” he asked in a near whisper.
Rish glanced down the corridor behind him before softly replying, “He’s starting to look and smell like Tang.”
Ich-Mek winced at the thought as he pondered how long his friend could possibly stay in that cave. By now the governor of whatever province Bose had been destined for would realize that he was a no-show. This likely meant that Bose’s parents would be expected to pay back the money they had been given when Bose had been accepted at Key-Tar-Om.
“He must be worried about his parents,” Ich-Mek ventured.
Rish frowned as he said, “He won’t talk about it. Guess he thinks he can fix things later.”
“How much later?” Ich-Mek replied incredulously. “Tang is telling him he can’t leave, right?”
Rish seemed to wince a little at the question before saying, “I don’t think he wants to leave yet.”
“Why?”
Rish shrugged. “He wants to get as good as you, or at least Tang, I think.”
Ich-Mek looked down at the floor as he pondered what he heard. “Can’t blame him for that,” he replied sadly before starting to pace around in his cell.
Ich-Mek was doing his best to think about something else, something positive that would perhaps improve his situation. He couldn’t go to the cave to see Bose or Tang, and they certainly couldn’t come visit him. There was no telling what the consequences would be for either of them should Ober-Toss get his hands on them. Putting this thought out of his mind, he came up with an idea for how best to spend his time for now.
“Tomorrow I want you to help me gather every spell-scroll in Key-Tar-Om. I’m going to make a spell-book.”
“Like Tang’s?” Rish whispered.
“Yes, but with even more spells in it.”
“Even the ones from the library?”
Ich-Mek shook his head. “Haven’t found any there yet.” He then looked at his ring. “I’ll spend any time I can there. I need to know more about this ring.”
The ring allowed him to cast certain cantrips more effectively, he had discovered. A simple cloud cantrip when cast manifested at twice its original size now; any fire-based spells did the same. He had discovered this fact when lighting candles, which he could do from further away now.
He felt there was much more the ring could help him do, but he had no one to teach him. What’s more he had no reference material to consult, though now that he had access to the library he hoped that would change.
“Here is your authorization letter to gather the scrolls,” Ich-Mek said as he handed a small scroll through the bars. “You’ll need to get the wood-bled ink, and good rice-paper.”
Rish held the scroll like it was dangerous. “What if the instructors…don’t cooperate?”
“They wouldn’t dare,” Ich-Mek informed him in a low tone.
The next morning Ich-Mek had the librarian deliver a letter formally to the Regent, requesting that he be allowed to take texts back to his cell. He could tell this troubled the librarian, but dismissed it as the concerns of a bureaucrat who was protecting his turf.
Instead of sitting down in the library to begin reading the many scrolls stacked on the table, he decided to again search the shelves. He had stopped by the one classroom he knew of that kept a number of spell-scrolls locked in a cabinet. It was the very classroom where he had learned to make copies.
With Rish standing nervously by, Ich-Mek had unlocked the door to the classroom with a cantrip, then walked to the set of sturdy cabinets. Without hesitation he had unlocked them as well, then handed stacks of flattened scrolls to Rish. They had sorted through them until they found the location spell he was looking for.
Tang had the only other copies he knew of. It had made him wish he had made two copies of the scroll, so he wouldn’t have to spend the time to do it now. Luckily there were several sheets of high-grade rice-paper in the cabinets, and some wood-bled ink.
Rish had alternated between pacing the floor and standing guard at the door, along with Ont, while Ich-Mek worked to make a copy. It took him almost two hours, which he thought was considerably less time than it had taken him previously.
“I’m getting better at this!” Ich-Mek proclaimed as he carefully rolled up the new scroll.
“Good!” Rish replied as he began putting things back in the cabinet.
Ich-Mek shook his head at his friend, before saying, “Stop that. Those you need to take to my cell, remember?”
“All of them?” Rish asked with concern. “They’ll see us!”
“You’re authorized!”
Ich-Mek then left his friend behind as he headed for the library.
It took Ich-Mek a few minutes to refresh his memory concerning the location spell. This he did by sitting quietly at the table in the library. The atmosphere was calm and peaceful here, and the smell of paper added to the ambiance, making the task seem easy.
The ecstasy of the cast brought a satisfying smile to his face – before he recalled he had a limited time to make use of the location spell. Forming the word Owesek in his mind, he began to traverse the maze of aisles. He found a glowing scroll after only a few steps. Concentrating again, he found another in the same aisle.
After a time, he found it difficult to carry them all, and when he came upon a tome that glowed, he set everything down on the floor. “Librarian!” he yelle
d out loudly.
Taking down the tome, and setting it on the floor with the scrolls, he then called out several more times, until he finally got an answer. When the librarian showed up, he told him to move the texts to his table. He then began searching for more.
The collection now included a good forty texts. As he stared at the piles, he concluded he was going to need those scholars the Regent had so condescendingly suggested. By this time the librarian had grudgingly admitted the Regent had authorized temporary removal of materials.
“Have all these brought to the nearest classroom,” he said to the librarian. “Don’t worry, I’ll have Ont put a guard on them.”
Walking away quickly to avoid any arguing, he passed Ont by the door to the library, and together they headed for the dormitories. He stopped the first instructor he stumbled upon.
“Gather those instructors that are available,” he told the apprehensive man. “I will be giving…a class…in one of the classrooms.”
“Yes, Fu-Si!” the man replied with a bewildered look on his face as he bowed.
Ich-Mek could see the man’s demeanor turn instantly from apprehension to excitement when he realized the dragon-mage was going to teach. Ich-Mek hoped he hadn’t overstated things, as what he really planned to do was have the instructors search the texts he was having brought over.
He then found a quiet place to stand, as he watched for signs the librarian was doing what he had been told. Sending one of Ont’s guards up to check, he was happy to see the man return a short time later with a bundle of scrolls in his arms. Behind him were nearly a dozen administrators carrying the same.
Rushing to the nearest classroom, Ich-Mek peeked in to make sure it was empty, then waved the approaching column over. He then had the task of organizing the materials as they were brought in. When instructors began showing up, he had them take seats as if they were students.
When the count of potential students reached a dozen, he began handing out texts to them. Then he went to the large slate mounted on the wall in front of the classroom and wrote the word Owesek with chalk. He found himself very nervous when he saw the many eyes looking expectantly at him.