Compendium

by Alia Luria

  Cornelius narrowed his eyes at Thaddeus, and his hands tightened the on the armrest of the chair. Nikola patted his friend on the arm.

  “You must,” Nikola said to Thaddeus.

  “He’s jeopardizing all we are doing here,” said Cornelius in a rare show of anger and only after Thaddeus had left the room.

  Nikola sighed, suddenly very tired. “He’s had a very hard time of it.”

  “We all know that, but this is greater than just Thaddeus. Moritania says the device has been researching the Shillelagh. You know what that means for us.”

  “I do,” said Nikola, and he did, but that was only part of the equation. “I understand the concerns on all sides, but in one hundred fifty cycles, we’ve made no direct progress toward restoring Lumin until now. And to think that book was on our shelves all this time.”

  “Yes, no need to remind me,” said Cornelius dourly.

  Nikola waved a hand flippantly. “I’m not blaming you, Cornelius, but you and I know she is no pretender.”

  “Very true, but we still don’t know whether she’s trustworthy. She’s been researching travel by baccillum.”

  “That is concerning indeed,” said Nikola, “but perhaps we can use this area of inquiry to solve more than one question.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There is the question of loyalty but also the question of ingenuity.”

  “Perhaps you should speak to her,” said Cornelius, concern lighting his soft eyes.

  “This is a path she must walk herself,” said Nikola, his face grim.

  20 The Plot

  Lumin Cycle 10152

  “Are you unhinged?” Cedar asked incredulously, leaning back in his chair at a table in the ancient texts room of the Archives. “I know your battle with SainClair has been taxing, but you can’t possibly be serious.” His alarm surprised Mia.

  “I’m stone-cold serious,” she replied. “I mean to retrieve the Shillelagh.”

  Taryn’s reaction was completely opposite Cedar’s. She manifested immediate excitement at the thought. This also surprised Mia, but she was glad for some positive reinforcement. “Oh, what an adventure! But how will you find it?” she said.

  “I have the means,” Mia said carefully, unsure how much to reveal. She had begun to ask Compendium details about the Shillelagh, and Taryn was correct when she had speculated that it could be somewhere inside the Order. It was in fact hidden in the Order, and Compendium had a map to prove it. A map alone, however, wasn’t sufficient; Mia also needed a plan. The Catacombs, where the Shillelagh was hidden, was apparently where the Order housed many of its more keen secrets. Unlike the Crater Grove, it was actually well guarded.

  “I’m confused,” said Cedar. “The last time we discussed this, we thought the Shillelagh probably was a myth, a legendary artifact, the existence of which we weren’t even certain. Now you say you know where it is.”

  “I do,” Mia said simply.

  “How?” asked Taryn.

  Their curiosity aligned them against her. There was no way around it. She slipped Compendium out of her sash and handed it to Cedar. He looked the book over and opened it, reading aloud the false title with which Mia had become so familiar.

  “Have you finally descended into madness?” he asked. “What does this book have to do with anything?”

  Taryn peered over his shoulder. “I agree with Cedar. This book would certainly be useful for my historical research, but it has no bearing on the Shillelagh.”

  “Compendium, reveal yourself,” Mia said on a hunch. Cedar almost dropped the book as the text of the pages changed. “Read aloud what it says,” she told him.

  “Welcome, Mia Jayne,” Cedar read. “What can I assist you with today?”

  “Compendium, please show me the map you created leading to the artifact Shillelagh,” Mia said.

  Taryn’s eyes grew wide as the ink melded into the pages, replaced with schematic drawings, something as familiar to Mia as her own pulse.

  “This is incredible,” Taryn breathed. “Incredible.” She touched the page, tracing it with her finger and lifting it up to look underneath.

  “I assure you it is what it seems,” Mia said. “For some reason, it’s coded to me. If another person picks it up, it reverts to the book you first saw. Only upon direct command of my voice will it reveal itself.” Cedar gave Mia a skeptical look, clearly doubting she was somehow the book’s master. “Try to command it,” she said. “Ask it anything.”

  “Compendium,” he began hesitantly, “what is today’s date?” He paused, and his brows furrowed and eyes squinted. “Access not granted,” he read. “What a priggish book!”

  Mia laughed. “Compendium,” she said, “who am I?”

  “Mia Jayne, authorized Alpha Level user.” Cedar looked up at her. “Alpha Level? That implies there are additional levels.” He ran his hand across his face, as if wiping away cobwebs.

  “I don’t have total access to the information it contains,” Mia said. “I managed to activate it, but sometimes when I ask a question or request information, especially regarding the book’s origins, how it was made, or other information regarding activities before the Great Fall, it tells me I haven’t been authorized at a sufficient level.”

  “So this is a real-live artifact?” Taryn asked, her excitement rising along with her voice. “I knew they existed. I just knew it!”

  “How did you find it?” Cedar asked.

  Mia pointed to the empty spot on the archival shelf where Compendium had resided for who knew how long. “It’s been under everyone’s noses the whole time. I’m still not sure how I activated it. I sneezed on it, and it activated.”

  “You sneezed on it?” Cedar said thoughtfully.

  “That’s pretty disgusting,” Taryn said, giving the book a dubious look.

  “Yes, I was terrified at first that I’d ruined the pages or the ink, but the sneeze sunk right into the book, and all the text melted and changed, and then Compendium revealed itself.”

  “It must have some sort of genetic activation.” Cedar examined the book from every angle, shuffling through the pages.

  “I don’t see how I could have been in its genetic data stores,” Mia said, giving Cedar a skeptical look. “I have no family history to speak of.”

  “That you know of,” Cedar corrected her. “You told me you never knew your mother or anything about her. Maybe what you don’t know about your family is what lets you use Compendium. Have you ever asked Compendium about your family?”

  “I haven’t,” she admitted. “I’m afraid.”

  “Well,” Cedar said, “the book only responds to you, so you’ll have to be the one to ask it.”

  “That’s beside the point right now,” Mia said. “I want to focus on the Shillelagh. Compendium, show us where the Shillelagh is hidden and describe its security.” Right now what she needed was to escape this place. She needed to get away from SainClair and the other clerics who gave her cryptic advice rather than straight answers. She needed to flee the claustrophobic stone walls that threatened to crush her spirit. She also needed to confirm that Father was really gone for herself, that she was alone in the world. If there was any chance SainClair was lying, she needed to know. And if he wasn’t lying, there was no reason for her to be here any longer. She’d have plenty of time to consult Compendium about her family history once she was away from the Compound and could breathe again.

  Cedar read the text from Compendium in a quiet, serious voice. “The device referred to as the Shillelagh, once commonly called a baccillum when produced in numbers, is hidden deep in the root system of the Order under the Crater Grove, inside the Catacombs. It is currently being used as a conduit shunt to channel energy from one of the central roots to the peripheral security system of the Order. This serves multiple functions, including alerting the Order if someone has taken the device. A broken connection will extinguish security lights throughout the Compound. The Catacombs has locked gateways and monitoring sys
tems. The Catacombs additionally has a detail of clerics who patrol it at random intervals. The schedule is kept strictly confidential.” Cedar interrupted his recitation. “Mia, this doesn’t seem like a winning proposition for us.”

  “It’ll be a challenge for certain,” she said. “I don’t expect you to risk yourselves or your stations here at the Order to help me, but I need your help to figure out a plan, even if I have to execute it myself. I can’t keep sitting here, not knowing if Father is alive.”

  She looked at them carefully, her eyes moving from one to the other. Cedar’s gaze was locked on her face, his jaw tightened ever so imperceptibly. Mia knew she was causing him significant stress by even mentioning this scheme. He’d been more than willing to sneak into the Crater Grove with her and fraternize in the fresh air of the trees, but what she was discussing now was an entirely different proposition. It would require spying on and deceiving the clerics and also involve stealing from them. Mia had nothing to lose, however. She was already a prisoner there. She wasn’t allowed to leave; she knew her activities were monitored; and SainClair was making her life increasingly miserable. Even thinking of the Crater Grove didn’t calm her increasingly frayed nerves. Mia’s eyes pleaded with Cedar’s until he finally looked away, frowning. She knew how he felt about her, and the thought that she might be manipulating him through those feelings shamed her but not enough for her to stop.

  Mia looked over to Taryn, whose face held a hint of excitement. She clearly was interested in the prospect. It was horrible of Mia to prey on Taryn’s love of the antiquities and historically themed adventure, but she did it anyway. It also helped Mia’s cause that Taryn had confided in her that her family had sent her to the Order from their nomadic camp. She hadn’t experienced the calling in the way Cedar had. Mia speculated that Taryn’s gypsy blood supported these daydreams of wanderlust to which she often succumbed. Whether she was dreaming of traveling physically with the Shillelagh or traveling through time with her books, she was always somewhere else.

  “I, for one, am one hundred percent on board,” Taryn said with a smile. “This promises to be the greatest adventure yet. Please let me come with you!”

  She grasped Mia’s hand and squeezed it, desperate to hold on to Mia as though she might walk through a wall and disappear right then, leaving Taryn behind. Mia looked at her friend with some worry in her eyes; Taryn still had a family, after all. Maybe the Order was the best place for her. Still, Mia selfishly smiled inwardly. It was comforting to know she might have a companion, someone willing to leave this place with her.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “’Tis a big commitment to abandon the Order like this. You’ve been here a lot longer than me.”

  “And I fear I’ll be an acolyte forever,” Taryn said, giving Mia’s hand another squeeze. “I’ve been here even longer than Cedar, and he’s practically ready to become a full cleric. Perhaps my family was wrong to send me here.” Mia met her fervent gaze and knew Taryn already had made up her mind.

  Cedar continued to hold Compendium in his hands. “I can’t condone this,” he said evenly, “but you know how I feel, and I’ll do what I can to help you.”

  Mia and Taryn met regularly in the ancient texts room during their free time. Mia pushed aside her guilt at betraying the trust Brother Cornelius had placed in her, focusing instead on the optimism and hope that she would soon be free. Her heart quickened every time she thought about Father and whether he lived or not. Either way, she would know soon. Dominus Nikola never had summoned her to his quarters to discuss the locket. The fear that Brother SainClair might win support for his theories, however, buoyed Mia’s desire to make haste.

  Plotting a path down to the Catacombs beneath the Crater Grove was relatively simple. Compendium showed them the way. It was the other matters—namely getting through the locked entryways, passing the random patrols, and figuring out how to disable the security monitor—they focused on in these meetings. Even with Compendium, they still lacked crucial information.

  “We need to find out the schedule for the guards the night that we decide to go through with it. That’ll probably be the last piece of information we gather,” Taryn said, tapping a quill against her cheek. She was transcribing their ideas onto parchments. She had an insatiable need to record everything, which made Mia nervous. She preferred to have no written record to haunt them.

  “I agree. Our first order of business should be figuring out how to get through the locked doors,” Mia said. “Once we figure out how to disable them, we’ll be able to get into the Catacombs whenever we choose.”

  “We’ll only have one shot at actually removing the Shillelagh from the Crater Grove root system and no direct access to it until the day of. How are we going to complete the circuit without the clerics noticing?” Taryn’s smooth, elfin face creased in consternation.

  “Well,” Mia said, pacing the room pensively, “we’ll have to make the switch quickly and in the dead of night. That way, most of the clerics will be asleep if there’s a momentary flicker in the security lights.”

  “How will we know what kind of conduit we need?” Taryn looked helplessly at her.

  Mia smiled. “Leave that to me. The next Gathering is coming up, and we can use the opportunity to forage for a shunt that should work. We have all the specifications we may need through Compendium. The shunt will serve as a facsimile to fool the Catacombs into believing the Shillelagh is still there.”

  “Capital!” Taryn exclaimed. “That’s a great idea. I don’t suppose foraging for shunts will arouse any suspicion?”

  “Oh, not at all. If anyone asks, which I doubt is likely, I’ll just say Brother Cornelius is looking for some shunts of a particular size. He has so many inventions that no one is bound to bat an eyelash.”

  “Do you think Compendium would have any advice on how to get through those doors?”

  They sat and pored over the book, but a number of days passed before they had any type of breakthrough. It happened on a day when Cedar was with them. They were frustrated and crabby from lack of ideas.

  He was sitting with his eyes closed, his fingertips at his temples, as he whispered something to himself. At first Mia thought he finally had dived off the cliff they all seemed to be teetering on, the kind brought about by thinking too closely on one topic for too long a period of time. Mia was about to suggest they all go scavenge in the dining hall to see what, if any, leftovers might be available, when he slammed a hand on the table and said loudly, “Auditory!”

  “Auditory?” Mia asked.

  “Indeed,” Cedar said, resolutely pushing back from the table and standing tall. He paced heavily back and forth, speaking quickly. “Compendium hasn’t been able to find any locks in the schematics, correct? We know Compendium itself is controlled through auditory commands. What if the entrance to the Catacombs is controlled by a similar system of auditory commands that open the doors and has been coded to only those clerics with access to the Catacombs? I’ve racked my brain, and I believe it’s the only potential explanation.”

  “But how’s that possible?” Taryn asked. “We know Compendium is an artifact. It’s older than the Great Fall, older than the Order itself.”

  Cedar gritted his teeth. “Yes, that’s true, but there are certain pieces of the Compound’s systems based on technology that predates the Order. Even among those clerics who are in charge of these systems, they aren’t well understood. The texts that originate around the building of the Order seem to assume a lot of knowledge that we no longer possess. It’s been a source of great frustration and study for the engineers.” His face indicated that he hated spilling these trade secrets. Cedar paused to look at their wide eyes. Finally his shoulders slumped slightly, and he sank into one of the chairs. “I’ve seen some of these systems myself, and they almost seem to work as if by magic, but we know that’s not the case. As with Compendium, they were designed by the hands of our forebears, and we’ve lost the knowledge we once had as a society to fully under
stand and replicate them. It’s been the Order’s greatest challenge to recapture what we once knew, to understand our capabilities to the level we once did.”

  Cedar was becoming passionate on a topic long deliberated. As Mia imagined engineering clerics having heated debates in their labs, a small pang of envy ran through her. Although she immensely enjoyed Brother Cornelius’s company and the solitude of the Archives, it was these greater questions that engaged her mind and made her heart quicken.

  “But,” Taryn said, continuing her protests, “I haven’t seen any texts regarding pre-Fall technology employed by the Order, and I’ve scoured this Compound from top to bottom.”

  “That’s because these types of texts are kept strictly inside the laboratories of the top engineers,” Cedar told her. “Even I don’t have personal access to them.”

  Taryn’s eyes narrowed. “Those books should be available to anyone with an interest in the topic. How am I supposed to reconstruct a full picture of the history of this place without that kind of information?”

  Cedar and Mia exchanged looks at Taryn’s obvious anger. They shrugged imperceptibly to each other. Perhaps she was just put out because she had come to some wrong conclusions in her research and now felt like a fool. Still, her spine was stiff, and her usual airy countenance was set upon and engulfed by a heretofore-unseen sternness.

  His eyes moving back and forth, Cedar hesitated. “Well, when it comes to the inner workings of the system, the Order limits its information to those who might directly benefit from it. For instance, were someone to borrow the books to research the historical underpinnings of such technology and its relation to the Order, no matter how important such information may be for records purposes, those books wouldn’t be available if an emergency required access to them.”

  “Oh, and I suppose this place is busting with emergencies?” Taryn huffed, crossing her arms over her bosom and leaning back in the library chair.