by GM Gambrell
Seven
Duncan felt like a cat trapped by dogs. He could barely contain his energy and his curiosity. He bounced back and forth between the library and his garden. Even as he worked in the garden, merrily tendering to his plants, he thought about everything he’d learned. One thing he knew for certain was that the official library memory stones only painted one half of the picture, the Magician’s side. He only knew what the Magicians thought of the world, and in that one-sided recording of history there were huge gaps in what the real picture had to have been.
He walked a tightrope, balancing between his garden, his required workload at the library, and the vast amounts of things to learn. He quickly found that, despite the library supposedly being a thousand years old, the official memory stone record only went back a few hundred years. He quickly discovered the reason. The memory stone magic had only been created a few hundred years ago. He knew there had to be actual written records somewhere, but was at a loss as to how to find them. Marissa wasn’t much help in his quest, either.
“I’ve searched all the floors at least twice, Duncan. There just aren’t any books. I don’t know what could have happened to them. The Magicians had to keep records of some kind before the memory stones, didn’t they?” she told him.
“The only books I know of in the School are in Mr. Falcon’s class. I’ve read all of those,” Duncan told her. “There isn’t anything that I’m looking for in there.”
“What exactly are you looking for, Duncan?”
“That’s a hard question to answer,” Duncan told her. “I want to know everything.”
Marissa nodded and shrugged. “Well, maybe Mr. Falcon knows where the older records are kept. Maybe you should go ask him.”
Duncan agreed but sighed. Mr. Falcon was thirteen stories up. After scaling the rope outside the school, something he’d hoped to never have to do again, he found Mr. Falcon in his classroom between classes. The old man was puttering around his collection of books and he seemed genuinely happy to see Duncan. “Duncan Cade. It is a great pleasure to see you again. I trust your studies in the library are going well?”
“Yes, sir, though I have a couple of questions I hope you can answer.”
“Well, of course I’ll answer questions. That’s what a teacher does, is it not?”
“These books…they don’t have any like them in the library. Everything there is memory stone. Nothing is actually written down.”
“I always knew you had a passion for reading. Sadly, most children do not. Not to mention the adults…I swear that magic has made us lazy, incapable of even caring that we have lost so much knowledge. These precious books…” he said, lovingly caressing the spine of one, “…these are all we have left of the old world. Can you imagine a Magician now bothering to write down his thoughts?”
“No, sir, I can’t,” Duncan answered. “The Memory Stones are easier.”
“They are a bane,” Mr. Falcon answered angrily with the whip of his hand in the air. “They make us lazy, recording our memories instead of creating these beautiful, beautiful books. Words meant something, once.”
“I’ve read all of these,” Duncan said, “and they don’t seem to go back to the beginning.”
“No, they don’t. Those books…” he paused, uncertain and bit nervous, “…those books are not kept in public. There are things, Duncan, that we are not proud of as a people. These things had to be done, of course, in order to save all life on this planet, but…” he paused again, looking around as if he were afraid someone might be listening to him, “some of those things were very distasteful, to say the least. There is a whole other library, Duncan, under the one you’ve been spending your time in.”
Duncan was amazed, not just at the admittance of the teacher that the Magicians where not always the righteous warriors the official histories made them out to be, but admitting that there were records of the earlier times. He was afraid that they had been lost, or worse, destroyed.
“Are there books from before the Last War?”
“No, not here, and I have spent a lifetime looking for them. After the Last War there was, by all accounts, a great purge of all things human. The remaining cites were leveled and all traces of their lineage was gone. I’ve read accounts of some of those monuments from very ancient times, Duncan. They are but fleeting memories now, mostly rolling around in the head of one mad old man, but there were once great places, places that gloried in the abilities of man before magic. There were the Pyramids at Giza, the Aztec ruins in Mexico…so much of it was destroyed, and for no better reason than we’d won and we were going to wipe history of the humans. As I said, it was a very sad time in our existence. If there are any books from before the Last War in existence, they will be in the New Atlantis library and will never, ever see the light of day.”
“Why is that?”
“The same reason the Restorers will never do anything but attend grand parties and talk about the future. No one wants to admit the past.”
“Sir, is it possible for me to access the hidden library here? I don’t even have a clue to where it would be. I’ve been up and down the library floors and in every nook and cranny.”
“The entrance is not hidden and is in plain sight, Duncan. The protection enchantment simply keeps out those who do not belong there.”
“That’s sort of subjective, isn’t it? How does the enchantment spell know? And on what basis does it make the decision?” Duncan asked.
“I can’t answer that, Duncan. But if you deserve to be in the hidden library, you will be granted access. You would quite enjoy it, I think, knowing your propensity for reading. There are amazing stories there of the birth of our nation, of how the great cities sprang from the ashes of the old. There are tales there of the war and the great machinery that the humans brought against us, only to be defeated. There are stories of heroism and betrayal and destiny.” The romantic way Mr. Falcon spoke of the library only made Duncan want to see it more. “Though incomplete, and containing none of the great works of humankind that came before the Last War, it is still my favorite place in the world. These books are from there, Duncan, and though I shouldn’t have them, the School allows me to keep these few in my classroom. Upon my death they will be returned.”
“I should very much like to see that place.” Duncan said. “It sounds wonderful.”
“Oh, it is, it is. Now, forgive an old man for rambling. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Do you know Diamond Jim thought there was a source of magic?” Duncan asked.
“And he was bent on destroying it. He was, or is, a madman, Duncan. I’ve heard that he appeared here, in our great city, recently. I hope that doesn’t foretell trouble. No, there is no source of magic, son. He is on a fool’s quest. It lives in each and every one of us.” He paused, looking shameful. “Well, not all of us. I’m sorry for the slight.”
“No harm intended, sir,” Duncan said. “But I’m curious. How do we actually know that there is no source of magic? How is that proven?”
“It is not proven, Duncan. We take it as a matter of faith.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m afraid faith is one of those subjects that is hard to teach. It’s a feeling inside, a knowing. It is the same as knowing the sky is blue or that the grass is green. It’s something in your heart.”
“So we can’t prove that magic comes from within?”
“Nor can we prove that it does not.”
Duncan thought about that for a moment. Everything in his life, from the vegetables growing in relation to the sun and watering to the engines running on vegetable juice was measurable. It didn’t make sense, but nor did it hinder his current pursuit. It would be just one more thing to ponder.
“Have you ever met him, Mr. Falcon? He seems like quite the character.”
“From what I’ve seen in the news stones, he is that. No, I haven’t, but you should ask your father about him. He knows him.”
D
uncan knew that, but didn’t know how he knew him. “How did my father know him?”
“Why, he was one of his arresting officers, all those years ago in New London. He also sat on the trial and sentencing committee. I thought for sure that he would have told you about that. It was right after that that he retired from the Magistrates. Your father is a great hero.”
“I didn’t even know he was a Magistrate.” Duncan said, referring to the small police force that protected the realm of Magic. It was a shocking revelation.
“Oh, indeed, he was a fine Magistrate, at that. He was one of the best who ever served. Now, son, I appreciate a good discussion of history, as you know, but I must prepare for my next class. Was there anything else?”
Duncan gulped. Mr. Falcon had being so open and frank with him that he decided to push just a little more. “Mr. Falcon, do you know anything about science?”
The man’s demeanor changed as if he’d been struck with a hammer. “How dare you come in my classroom, under my hospitality, and use that word. Get out of here, right this instant, Duncan Cade, and never return!”
Duncan didn’t even get a chance to respond as Mr. Falcon teleported him out of the room.