Library of Absolution

by Jennifer Derrick

  "No, please stay," Elissa said, settling it for him.

  After turning Elissa so that her feet rested on the floor, Candace and another healer braced themselves on either side of her. Alarick remained in front of Elissa, about six feet away. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, and his assistance didn't seem to be required, anyway. All he could do was watch and hope.

  "Try to stand, sweetie," Candace said to Elissa.

  Elissa pushed up and groaned in pain. She stopped, hunched over with her chest nearly on her knees, as though going any further might break her.

  "It's okay. It's going to hurt because you're stiff," Candace said.

  Alarick swallowed the urge to tell them to stop, that she wasn't ready. He'd been through enough rehabilitation to know that pain was part of the process. The healers knew what they were doing. If they thought she was ready for this, then she was. Still, he stepped forward, ready to catch her if she fell.

  "Come on," Candace urged.

  Elissa bore down and straightened a bit more. The healers held her steady as she swayed, her inner gyroscope adjusting to being vertical after lying down for so long. Once she had her balance, she pushed up a little further. She was now hunched over like an old crone. The other grabbed an ornate cane from where it leaned against the wall. He pushed it under Elissa's hand and then released his hold on her.

  Supported now by Candace and the cane, Elissa took one tiny shuffling step forward. Alarick held his breath. Another step. Candace backed away a bit; keeping a steadying hand under Elissa's elbow and an arm in front of her, ready to break a fall.

  "Master Brandon is directly in front of you, about three feet," Candace said. "Do you think you can reach him?"

  Elissa looked up to where Alarick stood. Although she couldn't see him, she focused on where he was standing and narrowed her eyes in grim determination. She took another step forward and another. She moaned a bit as the steps jarred her back, but she kept coming toward him. He resisted the urge to reach out and drag her to him. She had to do this on her own.

  When she was close enough that he could touch her without stepping forward, he said, "Well done, Miss Stone."

  She smiled up at him and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He took her elbow from Candace and she leaned into him. He put his arm around her shoulders and held her to him, steadying her against his chest.

  "Do you want to do more?" he asked.

  "Not. Right. Now," she said, panting out each word. The effort to go such a small distance had cost her, but there was no mistaking the pride and joy in her face.

  Alarick looked at Candace who nodded at him. He handed the cane back to the other healer, then scooped Elissa up in his arms and carried her back to the bed. He laid her down slowly and carefully, desperate not to hurt her. Still, as careful as he was, she moaned in pain and he felt terrible.

  "Tomorrow you'll go a little further," Candace said, clapping her hands. "Before you know it, you'll be running up and down the hallways."

  "I can't imagine," Elissa said. "But thank you. I owe you everything."

  "It's nothing," Candace said, but the tears running down her face said it was clearly everything to see her friend walk again.

  Candace covered Elissa with the blanket, and she and the other healer left Alarick alone with her. Alarick took his customary place on the stool.

  "Do you want me to stay?" he asked, "Or would you rather rest."

  "Stay, please," she said.

  "Okay. I brought a different book today. It's supposed to be a comedy," he said.

  "I don't want to read today," she said. "I have to tell you something, and then I want you to tell me a story, instead."

  Alarick stiffened. It didn't sound like she wanted a fairy tale. "What do you want to tell me?"

  "Are we alone?" she asked.

  Alarick looked around the infirmary. There was one other patient on the far side of the room, and Candace was at the desk. Both were too far away to overhear their conversation.

  "Close enough," he said. "Unless you're going to shout at me, I don't think we'll be overheard. What is it you wish to discuss?"

  "I have to confess something and you're not going to like it, but I can only hope you'll forgive me. If you must kick me out of the Keep I'll understand, but perhaps you'll wait until I can at least walk on my own."

  Alarick snorted. "I doubt anything you have to say could make me send you away, Miss Stone. I'm certain it can't be that terrible."

  When she didn't immediately laugh off his remark, Alarick grew concerned.

  Elissa took a deep breath. "Before I left, I found your private section of the library," she said in a rush.

  Alarick leaned back so fast he nearly toppled off the stool.

  "What?" he shouted, before remembering that others were in the ward. Candace shot him an inquiring look, but he waved away her interest.

  "How did you do that?" he asked, his voice cold now.

  "I didn't mean to," she said. "Really, it was an accident. I'd drawn a different version of Death for another book. I don't know what happened, but this one wasn't responding to my commands. He kept escaping from his book and every time he did, he was intent on killing me or anyone else nearby. I tried to bring him under control, but eventually I had to dispose of him. There's a spell I use, Aperire Foraminis, which opens a portal into another dimension where I send failed characters. It's a giant trash can for drawings gone bad.

  "Anyway, you don't care about that," she said, rushing on with the story. "Sometimes the spell temporarily distorts walls and floors as the portal forms. They always go back to normal afterward, but while they're distorted you can see what's beyond. I cornered Death in the back corner of the library, over by that short set of shelves behind the green velvet sofa. When I cast the spell, the portal opened, and I saw a small room behind that wall. After I sent Death on his way, I did a little investigating. I shouldn't have, and for that I apologize."

  "How could you possibly have gained access? I've kept it protected for years. It is accessible only to me."

  "Once I knew the room existed, it was a simple matter of releasing your protections. Your protections render the room invisible to regular eyes, although not impervious to the Aperire Foraminis spell. Once the room is known you have very little restricting access, just a simple seal. Sigillum Aperio took care of that. You relied so heavily on people not noticing the room in the first place that you failed to use strong protection to keep out anyone who did notice. You might want to reconsider that in future," she added.

  "Oh, I will. Thank you for the education. For someone who claims to know very little magic, you certainly know enough to be dangerous, don't you?" he asked.

  It chaffed him that she, someone possessed of so little magical talent beyond books, should educate him in proper magical techniques. At the same time, however, he grudgingly respected her knowledge and had to accept the accuracy of her assessment. His protections were lax. Alarick vowed to recheck the protections on the castle itself. Complacency could get them all killed.

  She shrugged. "My father taught me Aperire Foraminis. It was something he learned as a way of disposing of potions that went wrong, but which were too dangerous to be disposed of in this world. There are some that you cannot simply pour out or burn off without causing even more harmful effects. It's not a spell commonly taught to those who have nothing to dispose of, however."

  "So, there's a dimension beyond this one with characters you've drawn drinking dangerous potions?" Alarick asked, momentarily diverted from her knowledge of his library by the thought of such a place and the problems it could create.

  "Oh, no. Each witch or wizard creates his or her own dimension. Mine and my father's never overlapped."

  "And are these places secure? These creatures aren't coming back, are they? The potions aren't available to anyone?"

  "No. Once something enters the Aperire Foraminis dimension, it is effectively killed or rendered inert. I don't know exactly
how it works, but my father assured me that nothing survives in there."

  Alarick felt a little better, but he didn't like the idea that she could open such a portal while he could not. He was never happy when a witch or wizard possessed a power he lacked. For now, though, he had a larger concern.

  "And once you entered my private library, how much of it did you read?"

  "Enough," she said. "Enough to know I needed to leave the Keep."

  "You told me you left to look for books," Alarick said.

  "I did, in part. That wasn't a total fabrication. I figured if I was leaving I might as well make the effort. If I was going to get killed by the Ministry, it should be in the service of something larger than myself. Fool that I was," she whispered.

  Alarick ignored the last part. She was only stating a fact. There was no need for him to comment further on her foolishness.

  "But you had no intention of returning?" he asked. "Because of something you found in my library?"

  The thought of her leaving with no intention to return gutted him. It was bad enough she'd wanted to leave at all; to put her safety at risk for the sake of some books. It was bad enough that he had failed to keep her safe; to understand what she meant to do until it was too late.

  But even at the worst of it, he'd believed she intended to return to him. To the Keep. That was why he'd gone after her, because he believed she still wanted to be here. That she'd intended to run away forever was unthinkable. That he'd risked his life for someone who had run from him, who wanted nothing to do with him, was galling.

  He choked back his rage and sorrow, replacing them with cool disdain.

  "Well, then, are you going to tell me just what was so terrible that it would make you flee and never come back? I'm aware that nothing in that library paints me in a flattering light, but you already knew of my unpleasantness. Surely the disjointed ramblings of a young man could not be quite so damning," Alarick said.

  Of course, he knew the truth. There were some secrets in there so damning he could imagine exactly why she wanted to run from him. It was why he kept that room protected. Damn her for finding it. Damn her for finding him.

  She turned her head away from him. Not that it mattered. She couldn't see him. But he wasn't going to let her damn his soul and cast him out of her life without at least facing him while she did it. He reached over and with gentle pressure turned her chin toward him.

  "If you expect me to forgive you for your trespass, you will at least face me while you tell me exactly what sort of monster you believe me to be," he said.

  "I'd rather you tell me the story as the man you are now, not the boy who did the things I read. Tell me there's a better ending to your story. Tell me that you are not the monster."

  He laughed at that.

  "Would that I could," he said. "But since you read my books, I'm certain you know there is no redemption for me. That is why you left, isn't it?"

  "No. I didn't leave because I feared you to be irredeemable. My time with you has taught me that there is more to you than the boy in those books. I left because I feared there was no place for me in your story. And that I could not bear."

  He was about to say something, but suddenly he couldn't remember what it was. What had she said? She hadn't left because of his past deeds, but because she was afraid he had no place for her? Was that possibly right? He struggled to make sense of it in his brain. He'd expected condemnation, not… Was it disappointment he heard in her voice?

  Before he could sort out a proper response, she said, "I've read your grimoire. It's terrifying. Start with why you took such an interest in dark magic and go from there."

  Alarick said nothing at first. Why had he taken an interest in dark magic? The question was better phrased as, "Why not?" He looked at Elissa. She might not be able to see him, but she had an uncanny ability to focus on his face as though she could. And something in her eyes compelled him to tell the story that he'd never told anyone in its entirety, not even Master Hale.

  "You overheard the exchange with my parents that day in the great hall. You know I denied them refuge here, but I don't believe you know why," he began, and she nodded.

  "That's where it all began. My parents were… Difficult. Abusive. Less so to my sister than to me, but she took her fair share of Father's rage, as well."

  "What was her name?" Elissa asked.

  "Eleanor." The name felt strange on his tongue. He hadn't spoken of her in years and yet he felt for one moment as though she was standing at his shoulder, encouraging him to tell Elissa this story.

  "She was older than me and a bit better at avoiding upsetting my father. Everything I ever did upset the man, especially when my magical abilities began to manifest. He was a great wizard and expected me to follow in his footsteps. But I was slow to develop. I couldn't learn anything fast enough for him. My mistakes were personal insults to him. He punished me continuously, thinking that punishment would make me learn faster. It didn't work," he said. "If anything, the nerves retarded my development even more."

  "It became a vicious circle. I would fail, he would punish, and I would fail faster and more often. Anyway, things got out of control one day and my father accidentally killed Eleanor."

  "What kind of accident?" she asked.

  "He was trying to hit me with an iron skillet and Eleanor leapt in front of me to defend me. She took the blow to the head. Cracked her skull and killed her. Father forced me to bury her and then we never spoke of her again. It was as though I never had a sister."

  Elissa made an incoherent noise, but Alarick plowed on.

  "Not long after that, our village attracted the Ministry's attention. We had a little warning and my parents ran. Once again, however, I was a liability. I wasn't powerful enough to help protect us all. Rather than risk me slowing their flight, they dropped me here. And they never returned until that day you saw them in the great hall."

  "Oh, Alarick," Elissa began, but he cut her off. Her pity would just make this story more difficult to tell.

  "You asked why I began studying dark magic. It began there. I hid my interests from Master Hale and studied every blasted book in the Keep's library having anything to do with dark magic. I began my grimoire as a record of what I learned. I became quite proficient at crafting dark spells to disfigure, cause pain, and achieve control over another person. My plan, as a naive boy, was to someday track down my parents and make them pay for what they did to Eleanor."

  "And to you," she said.

  Alarick waved that away. "What they did to me was secondary. I at least had a life, thanks to Master Hale. My sister was dead. Everything she might have been was snuffed out the day she tried to defend me. I very much wanted vengeance for that. Master Hale managed to curb my thirst for revenge somewhat, although it has never completely left me. He taught me to live with it rather than letting it control me."

  "I know you cared for him very much," Elissa said.

  "I did. The man was not obligated to take me in, much less treat me like his own son. But he did, though God knows why. He recognized my talent and educated me without undue punishment and without timetables. My talent flourished under his care. Unfortunately, there was little he could do for the rest of me."

  He thought for a moment, wondering how to proceed. "You've read my diaries, I presume," he said.

  "Most of them," she confessed.

  "Then you know I didn't fit in here any more than I had at home. Master Hale was as kind as he could be, but there are always those who seek to make others miserable and every aspect of my existence seemed to attract them. The Keep might be a refuge from the Ministry, but it is rarely a refuge from the worst impulses of people, particularly children."

  "There aren't any children here, now," Elissa said. "Were there once?"

  "Yes. In Master Hale's day there were many families here. He was more welcoming in that regard than I am," he said ruefully. "He tried to make the Keep a place where people could comfortably settle for the long term, e
ven if they had children.

  "Of course, that's where my problems began. I was a child without a family. I was Master Hale's pet in the eyes of some, a bastard in the eyes of others. Either viewpoint invited bullying and teasing. It didn't help that I had no mother or grandmother who could sew, so I dressed in whatever hand-me-downs Master Hale could cobble together. Other children frequently saw me wearing their discards and felt obliged to comment on it. Nastily."

  "Children are right assholes," Elissa said. "I'm no stranger to their tactics, either. Having your private drawings come alive in class and show everyone who you like and who you hate invites plenty of ridicule."

  Alarick had to laugh at her sentiment. He wanted her to tell the story, but now was not the time.

  "Well, at least we share a similar view," he said. "Had it stopped there, it might have been bearable. But my adolescence gave them even more ammunition. I wasn't attractive. My hair was greasy, my nose was too big, and I frequently broke out in spots. I was a skinny runt, as well with no athletic ability or strength to speak of. All I had was my mind and I vowed to make it as strong as possible. Unfortunately, the mind doesn't matter much in the world of adolescents, and trying to strengthen it only marks you as a bore."

  "If it's any consolation," she began, "I think you grew out of your runtiness just fine."

  Thank the universe she was blind, he thought, because the heat in his cheeks told him he was likely turning red. He coughed.

  "Well. Thank you, Miss Stone," he said. "It's good to know some things don't last."

  They were quiet for a few moments.

  "There was a girl," Elissa said, bringing him back to the story.

  "Yes, there was," he said. "Her name was Abigail and I adored her. Not that I ever told her, of course. She'd never have felt for me what I felt for her and I wasn't about to embarrass myself. She came to the Keep when I was ten and she was nine. I think I loved her the first day I met her. Well, as much as a ten-year-old boy can love anyone," he said with a chuckle.