Kep stepped up to a door, produced the odd cylindrical key Tyen recalled from his last visit to the vault and began working the lock. Watching the Librarian’s thoughts, Tyen read the complicated formula that dictated how the combination of turns and reversals changed each time the door was opened. To his surprise, there was no magic involved. When the door opened, he followed Kep into the next chamber and waited as the man opened the second door.
The young sorcerer came forward. As Kep introduced Tyen, he bowed.
“Director Ironsmelter,” he said, speaking the Traveller tongue. “I am Annad. Please forgive me for entering your world without permission.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Tyen replied. “I have not forbidden anyone to enter it, nor do I have the right. But I am curious. How did you find it? Did you follow a path?”
Annad shook his head. “I followed a map of sorts. A very old coded map.” Something to do with Rielle, Tyen saw in the man’s mind. A favour for her.
“Did Rielle send you here?”
“No, I knew nothing about this world until I arrived, except that the neighbouring worlds believed it long dead.”
“But you came anyway.”
Annad nodded. “I gathered as much power as I could hold, hoping it would be enough.”
“But you couldn’t know it would be. Why take that risk?”
The young man’s mouth twitched into a wry smile, and Rielle’s face appeared in his mind – a memory distorted by time but still recognisable. The Maker, Annad thought. She would follow the clues I left and find me, eventually.
“I undertook a great task,” the young man said, “to seek the source of an ancient belief. If I found it, and an explanation, it would not just satisfy my own curiosity, but go some way to show my world’s gratitude to its saviour.”
“Rielle,” Tyen said.
Annad nodded. “The Maker.”
“You’ve been looking for the truth behind Maker’s Curse,” Tyen saw.
“Yes.” Annad smiled.
“Have you found it?”
Annad glanced at Kep. “Perhaps. We’ve found a mention of it in the vault’s records. Can you bring Rielle here?”
“Not easily,” Tyen replied. “She is helping the Restorers fight Kettin.”
The young man frowned. “The one who wants to be the Successor?”
Tyen grimaced. “If Kettin knows of the prophecy, then yes, she will be doing what all conquerors do: use it to justify her methods. Which are more brutal than Valhan’s, or Roporien’s, ever were.”
“Because she uses machines,” Annad said.
“Because she uses them to kill all occupants of a world, then strip it of magic and take its resources to make more machines.”
Annad’s expression became serious. “I heard rumours of machine armies when I was travelling. I did not know they had grown to become such a threat until I arrived here.” He frowned and looked at Kep. “You are looking for solutions to the machines, so we should not delay you too long.”
The Librarian nodded. He gestured for Tyen to follow him, then led the way through the rows of shelving and chests to the far end of the vault. There they stopped before a bare stretch of wall. Kep extended a hand to the surface and pressed, and a fine dark crack appeared. It grew into an archway, then widened as a section of wall yielded to his push, softly sliding back into the rock. As the Librarian kept pushing, the wall retreated for several paces, until finally it passed a narrow gap on either side, too narrow on the right for a person to squeeze through, and barely wide enough to allow access on the left.
“I hope you’re not claustrophobic,” Annad said, smiling grimly at Tyen.
The young man created a spark of light and sent it into the left-hand gap. He followed it, edging sideways between the walls. Kep indicated that Tyen should go next. Creating his own light, Tyen entered the narrow space. From behind, Tyen heard the sound of clothing dragging over the rock, but he couldn’t easily turn his head to look back. A quick read of Kep’s mind confirmed that he was following. The sound stopped, then was replaced by the faint, soft sound of the sliding door, and he guessed that the Librarian was closing it again.
The crack appeared to be natural. The floor remained level, so he figured it must have been constructed that way deliberately. The gap grew wider and narrower as they travelled, and at one point they had to lean forward to slide on their fronts when the opening began to tilt.
They continued for some distance. Whenever the closeness of the rock began to bother Tyen he reminded himself that he could easily push out of the world, then skim up to the surface. Annad didn’t consider himself a powerful sorcerer, but he clearly was strong enough to travel between worlds. Kep could read Annad’s mind, so the three of them ought to be able to escape the confined space if they needed to.
The crack was now tilting in the other direction, and soon Annad and Tyen were sliding across one wall on their backs, moving their legs and then wiggling their torso along. As the angle grew more pronounced, Tyen wondered if he would end up upside down, walking on his hands. But then Annad stopped where the crack widened a little.
“We’re here.” He let out a deep sigh of relief. “Well, at the start of it.”
Coming up beside him, Tyen waited for the young man to catch his breath, and for Kep to reach his side. Turning to smile at Tyen, Annad tilted his head towards the wall in front, which was now as much a ceiling as wall.
“Look up, above your head.”
Doing as the young man suggested, Tyen first saw only plain rock. But as he sent his light further, he realised the rock surface was covered in patches of glass. The nearest was positioned higher than his head, and he could see the corner of something behind the glass. Something gold. Cautiously, he stilled air under his feet and pushed himself higher, his back sliding over the smooth rock.
Beyond the long, narrow sheet of glass was a gold cylinder taller than him, covered in markings. Looking closer, he saw notches and symbols that suggested sections of the staff could be twisted.
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Kep replied from below, his voice echoing strangely.
“Have you taken it out?”
The man nodded. “Quite a few times, a few centuries ago. It focuses light. At some settings so powerfully, it can burn through metal and stone.”
“That would suggest a weapon.”
“Or a signalling tool of some sort. Perhaps it had a creative use. Most inventions can be used for both good or ill.” The man began to slide up the rock face. “Follow me.”
Tyen waited for Kep to pass him. As the Librarian did, Tyen saw he was holding his back above the stone surface on a bed of stilled air. He quickly formed his own platform, and as he started after the Librarian he found he could move faster, keeping up with Kep as the man angled across the passage. It was also, he suspected, much kinder on his clothing.
The Librarian led Tyen to several other artefacts, some mysterious but most not. A jewel-encrusted cap of interlocking gold rings was labelled “Roporien’s Crown”, and when Tyen raised an eyebrow in doubt, the Librarian nodded and thought of the records he’d seen that described or pictured it exactly as the item appeared.
Most of the treasures were records, but few were made of paper. Those that had best survived the march of time had done so due to the toughness of the material they were made from. Sometimes a book lay beside them, containing a translation. More often the texts were so old they were unreadable, the language lost to time.
Kep stopped before a long cavity. It contained hundreds of plates of gold, joined by small links. No book lay behind the glass.
“This is what Annad travelled so far to find,” the Librarian said. “It is called the Scroll of the Ancients. Roporien brought it here. As you know, he was a collector of knowledge. He built vaults like this throughout the worlds. Many have been destroyed; others forgotten.” Kep smiled at Tyen. “Did you know the library existed before the Academy did? It was buil
t here because this is the location of an ancient place of knowledge, presumed all but destroyed when Roporien died.”
“But it wasn’t destroyed,” Tyen finished, looking around.
“No.” Kep shrugged. “Though it may as well have been, since so much of what is here is useless because we can’t read it. However, there is a way it might be accessed. A way that presented itself some years ago, but I didn’t get the chance to try it before the opportunity was stolen away.”
Tyen frowned. “By whom?”
The Librarian smiled. “You.”
Tyen drew in a quick breath. At once, he became aware of the press of Vella’s satchel against his chest. Unlike the satchels of the past, this one did not have holes in it to allow contact with his skin. He had grown wary of giving her constant access to his mind. In such a time of strife as this, and having taken on a position of responsibility, it was always possible he would learn something he must keep secret, even from Vella. It would take a very dangerous piece of information for him to stop talking to her completely – and he would never abandon her to permanent unconsciousness. If he ever had to keep her from absorbing a piece of information, he would get others to hold her for him.
Hopefully that would not begin today. He looked at the linked gold plates. “You believe this explains Maker’s Curse?”
“We do,” Kep replied.
Was that information too dangerous for Vella to contain? It might be. After all, it was said that if a Maker became ageless, he or she would tear apart the worlds. If this scroll described how it was done, then Vella could potentially contain instructions on how to destroy the worlds. While he trusted Rielle not to follow those instructions, he couldn’t risk that Vella might one day fall into the hands of someone who was willing to. Like Kettin.
But what if Maker’s Curse was wrong? Rielle might be able to become ageless again. If he didn’t use Vella to translate the scroll, she would age and die.
Was that important enough to risk someone one day learning how to destroy the worlds?
One day? What about now? Kettin was already doing a fairly thorough job of killing worlds. Would becoming ageless help Rielle stop her? Tyen chewed on his lip. She is the only Maker of her strength, and she is vulnerable. The better she can protect and defend herself, the better chance we have to stop Kettin.
Of course, none of this would matter if Vella couldn’t translate the scroll. Tyen drew in a deep breath and, as he let it out, examined the marks on the linked gold plates. Roporien had made Vella. Roporien had created this vault. If Roporien had known someone who could translate this scroll, surely he’d have had them hold Vella, and she would already know the truth of Maker’s Curse. Since she didn’t, the chances of her being able to translate it were small. She’d have had to have picked up the language after being owned by Roporien.
There was only one way to find out. Fortunately, he had room enough here to reach the satchel and draw it out. He was conscious of the Librarian watching, the man suppressing a small pang of desire for the famous book, but also a shiver at the thought that she could learn everything about him with a touch.
Tyen managed to bring Vella up to the level of his eyes and open her covers.
Tyen.
Vella. Can you read this text?
Yes, I can.
He blinked in surprise, then looked at the Librarian and Annad. “She says she can translate it.”
The young man grinned with excitement, while Kep merely nodded. For a moment they said nothing as it dawned on them that this might be the first time in thousands of years that the scroll had been read. It occurred to Tyen that this was the sort of discovery he had dreamed of making when he had been a young archaeology student. Something beautiful, rare, which would expand the knowledge of the Academy. Who knew it was in the depths of the Academy’s own vault?
Well, Kep did.
“So what does it say?” Annad asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
Tyen shifted until he was before the first panel and let his eyes trace the lines. When he had finished examining the first page, he looked down and read out the words that had appeared on Vella’s pages. They were not quite what Tyen had expected. No introduction. No title. Just a warning that the original text had many words that had gained several meanings over time. He read it aloud.
“It’s a translation,” Kep said. “Possibly of a much older document.” He moved closer so he could see the writing. “Vella, could you translate to Leratian? My Traveller tongue is a bit rusty.”
The words vanished and were replaced by the language of Tyen’s world. Looking back up at the scroll, Tyen continued reading but did not pause to speak the words aloud. Now that he had begun, he was eager to return to a more comfortable place to study the scroll’s text.
He needed to focus on each character in sequence, which slowed the process, but he did not want to risk any mistranslations. They gradually slid along the wall, Tyen staring at the scroll, Kep reading the translation and Annad waiting patiently. Now and then the Librarian made a small noise of surprise or interest and muttered to himself, making it hard for Tyen to keep his focus on the original script.
When, at last, Tyen had examined every detail of the record, he suggested they return to the vault. Kep led the way back. Through the Librarian’s mind, Tyen saw that the void behind the sliding door continued on into darkness. Kep had explored once but, when he found that the tunnel was flooded several thousand paces deeper, he had concluded that if any other records existed down here, they were likely long destroyed.
Not if they were made of durable material, Tyen mused. But it would be a difficult task exploring underwater. I wonder if the tunnels could be drained…
They each sighed with relief as they emerged into the passage. Tyen had returned Vella to her satchel, and as they entered the vault he drew her out again. Opening her covers, he set her down on top of a chest so they could all see her.
“So, Vella, can you sum up the contents of the record?” he asked.
As you noted, it is a translation of a much older text. This original source was in a bad state, with gaps in the information it provided. It dealt mainly with a long-dead race of sorcerers known as the Ancients at the time the original record was written. According to it, sorcerers of Valhan’s strength were unremarkable in that time. The Ancients’ abilities far surpassed his. They were typically born in isolated worlds, but as they came to power they joined their worlds with others.
“So it was these sorcerers who bound the worlds together?” Annad asked.
Yes.
“Does it say how?”
No. But it does say that to do so a sorcerer needs to be both ageless and a powerful Maker. Only with this combination can a sorcerer generate enough magic to enable worlds to be bound – or broken apart.
“Is that where Maker’s Curse comes from?” Tyen asked. “It’s not becoming ageless that causes a Maker to destroy worlds, it’s just that they can break apart the binding between them at will?”
It appears so. The record tells of how the binding and separating of worlds was both traded or gifted or used as a threat by the Ancients. It says that the death of the last of the Ancients was an occasion of both sadness and celebration.
“Probably depending on which world you were from,” Kep commented.
Tyen glanced at him and nodded. “Much as it was with Valhan’s death.”
The Librarian shrugged. “I have to admit I was a little relieved at the news. Sorcerers of my strength weren’t of much interest to him, but the possibility that you would be collateral damage when someone did him a favour, or he did them one, always existed.” Kep raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised he let you live, considering your strength.”
Tyen looked away. “I was more useful to him alive, at the time.”
“For your knowledge of mechanical magic?”
Deciding not to answer, Tyen looked down at Vella’s pages again. “If what we’ve learned is correct, Rielle has the
potential to become one of these Ancients.”
Annad nodded. “She could learn how to bind and break apart worlds, if she became ageless.”
“She said the part of the mind that allows her to be a Maker is the same as the one that allows a sorcerer to be ageless. It can’t be both. Vella, does the record shed any light on the method?”
No.
He muttered a weak curse. “So, it’s up to her to discover it for herself. I was hoping to find another way to fight Kettin in all this, but I doubt Rielle could gain an Ancient’s abilities particularly quickly, and her Making ability is vital to the Restorers right now.”
“Perhaps there is a clue in the text,” Annad said. “If we study it further…”
Tyen looked down at Vella, then up at the Librarian. “You’d need me to leave her with you.”
The man nodded. His expression was serious. His thoughts acknowledged that he coveted the book a great deal, but he was adamant that he would not take her for himself. Tyen’s impressions of the man had been one of an honest person who sought to protect both knowledge and people.
Annad watched them both, his loyalty to Rielle colouring all he thought.
It is a risk, Tyen thought. But if we are to survive Kettin’s conquest we need to take risks. Then something else occurred to him. If Kettin wins and Rielle, Qall and I die, Kep will be better placed to save Vella than anyone else.
“Very well,” Tyen said. “Let no other see her. If this world comes under attack, do not stay and fight. Take her and flee.”
Kep nodded solemnly, a shiver of fear going through him as he realised the danger was great indeed if Tyen was willing to trust Vella to another’s protection. “I will. Will you send a message to Rielle to tell her what we know?”
“Not yet.” Tyen shook his head. “Though this is important to her, it is important to all the worlds that I do not risk bringing Kettin’s attention to this world. As soon as I can safely do so, I’ll tell her everything we’ve learned.”
“I understand.”
Looking down at Vella, Tyen hesitated, not wanting to break contact with her.
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