A World Without Heroes (7 page)

Zokar had spent long years amassing the most fearsome army in the land, and he had forged alliances with the most powerful kingdoms of the age. The races he had engendered served him faithfully in the campaign against Eldrin, as did the torivors. (Despite claims by Zokar to the contrary, there remains much doubt as to whether he actually engendered the torivors. See subsection F, paragraphs 7–33.)

Fearing an alliance between his greatest rivals, Zokar first sent his forces south to eliminate Certius, the lesser threat, and succeeded in the endeavor. The maneuver became known as Zokar’s Folly, because an alliance between Certius and Eldrin was highly unlikely, and the operation gave Eldrin time to prepare. In anticipation of the impending battle he created the drinlings.

Prior to the climactic battle, Orruck and Maldor fell out of favor with Zokar, an ironic turn of events considering that it was Arastus who eventually betrayed Zokar in exchange for the right to become Eldrin’s first and only apprentice. In the end Zokar was forced to face Eldrin in single combat, and the legendary duel is widely considered the end of the Age of Wizards.

After the victory, with the aid of Arastus, an embittered Eldrin chose to rid the land of all upstart wizards and looted the great stores of learning, effectively ending the study of Edomic. The two wizards passed out of knowledge without ever siring a new race.

“The summary ends here,” Jason said, looking up.

“What follows is a much more thorough account of the
condensed events,” the loremaster explained. “The serious student can delve into extensive references and commentaries.”

“I didn’t understand all the words,” Jason admitted. “Especially the races. What’s a drinling? Or a torivor? What was the Amar Kabal?”

“Unessential details for now,” the loremaster assured him. “What did you gather from the account?”

“Sounds like there should be no more wizards. Eldrin and Arastus wiped them out and then took off.”

“You understood enough.” The loremaster paged farther through the book until he had almost reached the end. “Here is the section describing the current age.”

“‘Dawn of the Rule of Maldor,’” Jason read aloud.

Lips pursed, the loremaster nodded. “After Eldrin departed from this land, a couple of the races he had engineered established their own kingdoms. Some races mingled with mankind; others remained aloof; others dwindled to extinction. Centuries passed. Nobody expected to see a wizard again. And then Maldor returned.”

“One of Zokar’s apprentices.”

“Everyone, including Eldrin, assumed Zokar had disposed of Maldor. None guessed that he had survived in hiding. Maldor may have been the least powerful of Zokar’s apprentices, but he possesses a cunning intellect, and in a wizardless world his abilities were suddenly formidable. Read.”

Maldor exercised extraordinary patience in his bid for power. None knew his identity until after he had established his stronghold at Felrook, fortified by alliances with Caston and Dimdell. In hiding, he successfully rallied many of the scattered and broken races of Zokar, eventually assembling and equipping an impressive force. His greatest advantage undoubtedly came when he gained control of the torivors.

Decades of brilliant political maneuvering followed. Allies became subjects, and enemies were held at bay by a complex system of truces. Maldor proved adept at isolating rival kingdoms, defeating them in battle, and then enlisting their resources in his cause. He managed to forestall unified resistance until such opposition lacked any hope of success. Although scattered free kingdoms remain, Maldor’s claim as exalted emperor of Lyrian has effectively gone unchallenged.

“Your emperor is a wizard?” Jason asked.

“The last wizard,” the loremaster reported solemnly. “After witnessing the downfall of his master, he has taken no apprentices. The emperor is well aware of the advantage granted by his exclusive knowledge of Edomic, and he has forbidden the study of the language.”

“I take it that Maldor isn’t a nice ruler.”

The loremaster raised his eyebrows. “The emperor is a hard man. Of course, I am in his debt, since he permits me to remain in this post, overseeing this stockpile of learning.”

“If he’s a wizard, do you think he might know how to send me home?” Jason asked.

“Jason, if you are open to counsel, heed me now. It is unwise to earn attention from Maldor. Most people make a considerable effort to stay far from his thoughts. If you truly are a Beyonder, you might not want to be so liberal with that information. Lie low. Learn slowly and quietly. These days harsh consequences follow those who stand out in a crowd.”

Jason nodded pensively. “Who wrote the history I just read?”

The loremaster’s eyes shifted from side to side. “Hard to say how these books come into being, author unknown and whatnot. I assume the text was passed down from days of yore.”

“The content seemed pretty current. Didn’t you say I was the first visitor in ten years?”

The loremaster pressed his lips together. “Maldor has labored for decades to solidify his power. I could have acquired this volume in a variety of ways.”

“Maybe. But I bet you wrote the book.”

The loremaster reddened and looked away. “Preposterous.”

“Don’t be shy! I’d be bragging. Look how long it is! And all handwritten!”

The loremaster sighed. “I dislike the idea of associating a written work with a person. Text that has been handed down from unknown origins carries more mystique. It becomes harder to dismiss.”

“So you wrote it.”

“Yes.”

“I liked how even though the summaries were concise, they still told a story. Have you written anything else?”

“Nothing I intend to reveal to you. I wish only to be remembered as Author Unknown.”

“Will you ever own up to something you write?’

The loremaster removed his spectacles and rubbed at his eyes. “Perhaps. My father once admonished me to master the laws that govern fine writing until I could weave my words into worlds. If ever I accomplish that feat, I will sign my name to the tale.”

Jason surveyed the aisles of books all around him. Books written in another world—many lifetimes worth of stories and insight and philosophy that he would never read. The loremaster replaced his bifocals.

“I’m hungry,” Jason said.

“We have nourished the mind,” the loremaster said, patting his midsection. “Why not see to the belly?”

* * *

The loremaster served lunch in a room he called the Contemplation Chamber. Giant masks decorated the walls, each a bronze human face, each with one eye squinted shut. Somewhat stained and smudged in places, a detailed mural of thousands of interlocking hands covered the ceiling. Illumination came from a dozen candles in the black iron chandelier and a few oil lamps spaced about the room.

To Jason’s surprise, the meal was served by the young boy he had met beside the river the night before. When the boy first entered the room, he locked eyes with Jason and subtly shook his head, a pleading expression flashing across his features. Jason took this to mean that the boy did not want their prior association revealed. The loremaster offhandedly introduced the boy as Hermie.

Jason ate ravenously. A small pile of bitter gray nuts began the meal. The loremaster insisted they were nutritious. Jason washed them down with a cool drink that tasted like diluted berry juice with a hint of honey. The main course was spotted parasol mushrooms, accompanied by a side of dry yellow berries with a flavor like sour candy. The mushrooms were bigger than Jason’s hand. They possessed a tender, fleshy consistency and a salty savor not unlike ham. Jason consumed two of the sizable fungi. Dessert consisted of pie stuffed with purple pulp textured like pumpkin innards. Jason was delighted to find the pie sweet and delicious.

“This pie is excellent,” Jason said.

“Yes, there is nothing quite like blue root pie.”

“I was trying to compare the flavor to something.”

“It is unique. How would I describe it? A bit like tasting the opposite of peppered venison in mint sauce.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Why are all these masks winking?” Jason pointed around the room with his fork.

The loremaster dabbed at his mouth with a frilled purple napkin. “One eye is open to all truth, the other closed to all deception.”

“That makes more sense than I expected.” Jason reconsidered the bronze faces as symbols of discernment. “Do you mind if I stay the night?”

The loremaster blinked. “I assumed you would stay much longer than a single night.”

Jason shook his head. “I have to figure out a way home. My parents must be freaking out. My dog is probably starving. My life is there. Everyone I know, my friends. My school.”

“You are a student? What better place for an education than the Repository of Learning?”

“This is a great place, it really is, but I can’t stay.”

The loremaster nodded regretfully. “I was looking forward to some company.”

“You’ve got Hermie,” Jason said.

“A mere lad.”

“I’m only thirteen.”

“That is the year a boy assumes the mantle of manhood. Hermie is but eleven.”

“Maybe you should relocate,” Jason suggested. “You’ll never have many visitors if you stay hidden away in this forest.”

The loremaster shook his head. “Only by my secluded location do I avoid unwanted scrutiny. Those who truly need and appreciate this facility find their way here.”

Jason helped Hermie clear the plates and silverware. In the small kitchen the loremaster refused to let Jason help wash.

“Waste no time dallying with trivialities—Hermie will clean the tableware. Explore the library while you can, for tomorrow may be too late. I only ask you not to trespass in the upper level. It is forbidden.”

“Forbidden? Why?”

Hermie shot Jason a curious glance.

“I cannot say,” the loremaster replied. “But I assure you it is not casually prohibited. My father used to make certain books in our family library forbidden because it was the only way to get me to read them. Boring things, mostly. A clever ruse. That which is not permitted is always most enticing. Do not mistake my intention. I counsel you in all sincerity—resist becoming intrigued. The upper level is completely off-limits for good reason. Understood?”

“Yes,” Jason said. Was the loremaster trying to employ the same trick his father had used, immediately after explaining what his father had done? The upper level might be full of boring textbooks and dictionaries and junk. Or it might be unusually cool, housing ancient artifacts or weapons or treasure. More important, the upper level might contain some clue that could help him find his way home. Hadn’t the loremaster recently explained that information about the Beyond was forbidden? Where better to look than the forbidden area of a library? The more he thought about it, the more it seemed the loremaster had offered a deliberate hint. He left the loremaster and Hermie behind in the kitchen, determined to sleuth out a staircase.

Jason wandered the maze of books, surprised at how easy it was to become disoriented. Before he encountered any stairs, Jason discovered a large atrium in the middle of the library, visible from all sides behind large panels of glass. He found a sliding door and ventured out into the verdant courtyard.

Overhead, the sun had passed midday. A few puffy clouds stood out against a field of blue. A covered well, complete with winch and bucket, stood in the middle of the atrium beside a stone sundial. Lush fruit trees overshadowed bushes bright with berries. Some of the fruit looked familiar, like colorful variations on plums
and apricots, while other fruit appeared completely alien, like the gray furry fruit and the oblong, translucent fruit.

Once the courtyard garden had been properly explored, Jason returned to winding among the bookshelf corridors. Not a wall in the building lacked books. Books even occupied the space above doorways. Occasional hanging lanterns provided most of the light. Time after time Jason encountered dead ends, forcing him to backtrack. Finally, after extensive wandering, he arrived at a helical staircase in a rear corner of the massive building. He dashed up the spiraling steps two at a time and arrived at a large iron door riddled with tiny holes. The perforations were arranged in an orderly grid of columns and rows. Wooden pegs shaped like golf tees protruded from the ten center holes in the uppermost row.