Lord of the Libraries (21 page)
“You would have died, of course,” Cobner growled. “You weren’t ready to take care of yourself.”
“During my recovery, the Grandmagister taught me to recite ‘Fort Yuar,’ and to write it in his journal, and the history of the Ruhrmash dwarves’ battles against the goblinkin. The poem was the first thing I ever wrote.”
“But how does that help you with the journal Wick left?” Craugh asked. “It’s still encoded.”
Feeling slightly ebullient, Juhg opened the journal. “The poem detailing the victories of Fort Yuar holds a particular resonance and cadence. Knowing the code the Grandmagister used it is much easier to decipher. I
can eliminate most of what’s written in the journal because it’s gibberish, just there to confuse the uninitiated. I’ll recopy the journal using the cadence of the poem and do the translation from that.”
can eliminate most of what’s written in the journal because it’s gibberish, just there to confuse the uninitiated. I’ll recopy the journal using the cadence of the poem and do the translation from that.”
Craugh nodded. “How soon, apprentice?”
“Soon,” Juhg promised, and he eagerly got started.
The Drowned City
“
F
rom the journal of Edgewick Lamplighter, current Grandmagister of the Vault of All Known Knowledge—”
F
rom the journal of Edgewick Lamplighter, current Grandmagister of the Vault of All Known Knowledge—”
Dearest Juhg,
See, I will always address you in such a manner Jot personal correspondence!
Salutations and my blessings.
Juhg’s throat tightened a little as he read his transcription of the coded journal. He hurried on and hoped that no one else noticed.
They all sat around him in the small upstairs living room of Sharz’s bead shop. Little Nyia sat on Jassamyn’s knee and partially drowsed after the big breakfast her mother had prepared.
If you’re reading this, then it means that I am not with you and we are separated by circumstances beyond our control. Not that I expect much control in this situation. I had planned to be with you, of course, because I wouldn’t want you involved in the dangerous
endeavor on your own. Alas, I’ve often found in my life as Grandmagister—and before!—that things all too often fall outside my ability to plan.
endeavor on your own. Alas, I’ve often found in my life as Grandmagister—and before!—that things all too often fall outside my ability to plan.
I have instructed Sharz to deliver this book into your hands or my own.
And not Craugh’s?
Juhg wondered.
Why was he excluded?
He stumbled a little while he was reading as the thought occurred to him, but he thought that the audience he read to would think only that he’d been overcome by emotion.
Juhg wondered.
Why was he excluded?
He stumbled a little while he was reading as the thought occurred to him, but he thought that the audience he read to would think only that he’d been overcome by emotion.
We’re at a point when so many secrets are about to spill out. You’ve heard of
The Book of Time.
I know that you have. I’ve mentioned it to you on occasion and I know that you seldom forget anything I’ve told you.
The Book of Time.
I know that you have. I’ve mentioned it to you on occasion and I know that you seldom forget anything I’ve told you.
So many people think that the book is only a myth. Who could possibly organize time, after all? But the book is real. I have read about it for these past months, and I’ve wanted to talk to you at length about everything I’ve discovered. Unfortunately, you seem to be caught up in your own life at the moment.
Juhg, I know you sometimes feel guilty about living when your parents did not. Thaskale wrote a number of works about “survivor’s guilt” that I would like to recommend to you.
The Grandmagister had, Juhg remembered, but he’d always found projects that kept him too busy to read most of them. Instead, he’d just drawn further into himself and begun preparing his departure from the Library to attempt a life as a merchant with Raisho aboard
Windchaser
.
Windchaser
.
I don’t know your pain, Of course. That would be egotistical and rude and presumptuous of me to even suggest that I do. But I’ve dealt with pains of my own. Over the years, I’ve lost a great many friends who have been with me through fierce adventures.
Captain Farok dying in my arms, so small and frail and afraid, after I had been terrified of him when he’d been One-Eyed Peggie’s master, stays with me. I miss Brandt fiercely as well, though his death was calm and peaceful because he was taken away by years and not by violence. So many, by the Old Ones, there have been so many that I have lost through the ages.
Ah, and listen to me prattle across these pages like we had all the time
in the world for this discourse. We don’t, of course, because all the time in the world is exactly what we are after.
in the world for this discourse. We don’t, of course, because all the time in the world is exactly what we are after.
That is what our enemies are after, too. After all, The Book of
Time,
is the single most powerful thing in existence, and—for the time at least—it is in our world and accessible to those who would use it for good and those who would use it for evil or simply their own power.
Time,
is the single most powerful thing in existence, and—for the time at least—it is in our world and accessible to those who would use it for good and those who would use it for evil or simply their own power.
Juhg couldn’t help but glance at Craugh. Bright interest stirred in the wizard’s green eyes.
I have found
The Book of Time,
Juhg. Or rather, I have found where I believe it to be. All that reading I have done here in the Library has led me to it.
The Book of Time,
Juhg. Or rather, I have found where I believe it to be. All that reading I have done here in the Library has led me to it.
Surprisingly, it was legends I encountered while indulging in the guilty pleasures of Hralbomm’s Wing that turned the key. Perhaps, if previous Grandmagisters—or even Librarians, for that matter—had indulged in those selfsame guilty pleasures,
The Book of Time
would have been found much sooner.
The Book of Time
would have been found much sooner.
I don’t know.
Perhaps, as has been suggested in those legends that I read,
The Book of Time
chooses its own moment of discovery. I admit that I am uncomfortable with that thought. But, if one were to believe—as Zakoth proclaimed to in his treatise
Time Shall Move Your Cheese—
that everything that ever was, ever is, and ever will be is written in The Book
of Time
, then perhaps the book even holds record of its discovery and the discoverer.
The Book of Time
chooses its own moment of discovery. I admit that I am uncomfortable with that thought. But, if one were to believe—as Zakoth proclaimed to in his treatise
Time Shall Move Your Cheese—
that everything that ever was, ever is, and ever will be is written in The Book
of Time
, then perhaps the book even holds record of its discovery and the discoverer.
I want to see it. I am so curious.
Can you even guess what it must be like, Juhg, to know everything? I can’t wait. Truly, I can’t.
However, the date of my death—especially the happenstance of it—is something I’d rather not know. Particularly if that death is violent or gruesome.
It strikes me that perhaps I am already dead as you read this. I hope not. For your sake. But probably more for my sake. I would hate to miss out on the best book that has been written, is being written, and will be written. I’m not exactly sure how that works out.
if I am, then read it over my grave to me. (Surely I will have a grave. I
am Grandmagister, after all. Hmmm. Unless one of the monsters of the Blood-Soaked Sea or another like it has gulped me down while I was not looking. I do try to look. Cobner has always and forever been after me to be aware of where I am at all times.)
am Grandmagister, after all. Hmmm. Unless one of the monsters of the Blood-Soaked Sea or another like it has gulped me down while I was not looking. I do try to look. Cobner has always and forever been after me to be aware of where I am at all times.)
“That I have,” Cobner commented. “He has the right of that. And he’s gotten better, he has. Much, much better.”
As I have been led to believe
, the narrative and Juhg continued,
before the rise of Lord Kharrion and the time of the Cataclysm
, The Book of Time
entered our world from a place simply referred to as the In-Betweenness.
, the narrative and Juhg continued,
before the rise of Lord Kharrion and the time of the Cataclysm
, The Book of Time
entered our world from a place simply referred to as the In-Betweenness.
I found the account in Hralbomm’s Wing, as I has said, in a romance called
Cockleburr’s Beastiary and Other Tales.
Cockleburr was a traveling thief pre-Cataclysm who made money stealing as well as writing. He specialized in fictional accounts of monsters he’d met and outwitted. They were grand tales, too. I heartily recommend them because Cockleburr had an acerbic sense of humor that I found to be a delight.
Cockleburr’s Beastiary and Other Tales.
Cockleburr was a traveling thief pre-Cataclysm who made money stealing as well as writing. He specialized in fictional accounts of monsters he’d met and outwitted. They were grand tales, too. I heartily recommend them because Cockleburr had an acerbic sense of humor that I found to be a delight.
There was one story in the collection, though, that Cockleburr insisted was a true tale, not one he’d created of whole cloth or embellished mightily upon. During one of his adventures near Hargis’s Crossing, that meeting place of oceans far to the South, Cockleburr had chanced upon a bearded hoar-worm that had claimed it had once been a human wizard named Methoss.
The hoar-worm insisted that—as a human—he had traveled to the In-Betweenness, confronted the Gatekeeper of Time, and helped steal The
Book of Time
. The creature had gone on to claim that he had even helped kill—or attempt to kill—Lord Kharrion.
Book of Time
. The creature had gone on to claim that he had even helped kill—or attempt to kill—Lord Kharrion.
The mention of Lord Kharrion was a conundrum, I tell you. Purely coincidence, I thought. For Cockleburr’s account was written nearly nine hundred years before Lord Kharrion rose to prominence among the goblinkin tribes and began the Cataclysm.
Curious, naturally, because I know of no other mention of Lord Kharrion’s name outside of the Goblin Lord, I researched the name Methoss, which is also not in much use. Certainly not in the time Cockleburr wrote of. Then I found out why.
As it turns out, Methoss was one of a group of bloodthirsty and power-mongering villains that ran rampant along the mainland. I read about those people, Juhg. They are the reason that children are no longer named Methoss or Ladamae or Zorrocks or Pean or Ybarris. There are other names, but there’s no need to list them here.
The atrocities they committed will live in history forever. Some of them killed each other. Others, according to Methoss, were lost in the In-Betweenness. A few more simply vanished from record. I can only hope that they met with the harsh ending they all deserved and did not live out their lives in comfort and peace.
Across the room, Craugh pushed the cat from his lap and stood as if wanting to stretch. But he walked away from the others, stopping at the window to peer out.
Juhg alone knew how much the Grandmagister’s words had to have hurt the wizard. For a moment, looking at Craugh’s back and seeing the slump of his shoulders, Juhg’s heart went out to Craugh.
The Grandmagister loved the wizard like a brother. They were close. But Craugh had managed to keep his other life from the Grandmagister. For the first time, Juhg had to wonder at the cost of that secrecy.
Was that why you were so often gone from the Grandmagister’s side, Craugh? Because you felt ashamed? The Grandmagister is so good, so willing to share and to give of whatever he has. And you—you were a taker, a bandit, a thief, and a murderer. How did you think the Grandmagister would feel when he, found out your secrets?
“Juhg,” Jassamyn said, calling attention to the uncomfortable silence that had strung out.
“Sorry.” Juhg reached for a glass of wine. “Parched throat. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” He sipped, then resumed the reading, conscious that Craugh never turned around to face them, to offer a conjecture, or to acknowledge them in any way.
My investigation has led me to believe that The Book of Time was lost here in this world, separated into four pieces, four distinct divisions of Time itself.
I can’t help but wonder at that. Cockleburr’s book, though he didn’t know it at the time because—even though he traveled extensively—he
didn’t travel the world over, was not complete. Methoss told him that—while he was still a human wizard—he and the group of—
didn’t travel the world over, was not complete. Methoss told him that—while he was still a human wizard—he and the group of—
Here the Grandmagister broke off into a rather uncomplimentary description of Methoss and his companions. The vilification was quite uncommon for the Grandmagister.
Juhg choked on the passage and couldn’t read it. Even if he couldn’t trust Craugh, he couldn’t hurt him either.
—he and the group … had confronted Kharrion and discovered
The Book of Time
had been divided into four portions, locked into underground vaults among four cities.
The Book of Time
had been divided into four portions, locked into underground vaults among four cities.
One city was Seadevil’s Roost, which was a southern sea empire of humankind.
“I’ve never ’eard of such a place,” Raisho said. “An’ I’ve traveled all along the coastline.”
“This would have been a very long time ago,” Jassamyn said.
“Pre-Cataclysm,” Craugh said. “Actually, it was very near to this place.” Juhg continued with the narrative.
I performed a massive amount of research on my own, the journal continued. I couldn’t justify utilizing any of the Librarians on this task. For all I knew, my quest would turn out to be a wild trilik chase after all, despite the details Cockleburr provided.
Still, I persevered.
I almost asked you to help me with this task, Juhg, but things between us just weren’t … right somehow. For the first time, I began to suspect that asking you to do something like this would be an imposition.
Please accept my forgiveness for ever thinking this, but that is the only excuse I can offer. I would not willingly keep you from anything I did that I considered of merit.
Pain shot through Juhg’s heart. His hands trembled, shaking the book and making his rapidly written transcription hard to read.
You weren’t wrong,
he thought silently.
You weren’t wrong,
he thought silently.
Both he and Craugh had much to bear from the Grandmagister’s openhearted ways.
I was surprised to learn that Seadevil’s Roost, named for those obnoxious flying fish that Jassamyn seems to favor so when we’re at sea, had actually existed at one time.
I found a map and set to the task of locating the city. Unfortunately, the city no longer existed. Not as a city, anyway. But I located its ruins.
From what Methoss told Cockleburr, placing the four pieces of The Book of Time in the underground vaults beneath the cities had detrimental effects on those cities. All of them experienced violent deaths.
Seadevil’s Roost sank into the ocean after a tsunami ripped the sea floor to shreds for miles around it. Lord Kharrion’s later attacks destroyed
Teldane’s Bounty and rendered the Shattered Coast.
In the Smokesmith dwarven community of the Molten Rock Forge, where the Smokesmith dwarves became the most successful armorers of their time, an underground river speared into the heart of the active volcano they used as a natural forge. The magic they used—a seldom seen thing among dwarves—to bind the volcano to their bidding agitated the natural explosiveness of the underground river mixing with the molten lava to the degree that all of them perished when the mountaintop blew. Those once proud mountains tumbled into rubble and became the Smoking Marshes.
By the Old Ones, Juhg, we were so close to one of the secrets back when you and I escaped the goblinkin mine all those years ago! ff we had but known!
But we didn’t.
And, as it turns out, it was a good thing we didn’t know.
The four pieces of The Book of Time have to be picked up in order. But I’ll get to that in a moment.
The third piece of the book is in the Drylands, at the Oasis of Bleached Bones. Before
The Book of Time
destroyed it, the land was once filled with one of the most beautiful forests every warded by the Crown Canopy Elves. They had the tallest trees in the world, a quarter mile tall, by some accounts, and communities safely ensconced among the high branches, hidden away by magic and the camouflage of the leaves and branches they
trained to grow in the manner they wished. The city was called Sweetdew, named for the gorgeous flowers that provided the elves drink so that they never had to touch the ground if they didn’t wish.
The Book of Time
destroyed it, the land was once filled with one of the most beautiful forests every warded by the Crown Canopy Elves. They had the tallest trees in the world, a quarter mile tall, by some accounts, and communities safely ensconced among the high branches, hidden away by magic and the camouflage of the leaves and branches they
trained to grow in the manner they wished. The city was called Sweetdew, named for the gorgeous flowers that provided the elves drink so that they never had to touch the ground if they didn’t wish.
A horrible wind tore through that forest, climbing up from the bowels of the earth and ripping the trees from the earth and throwing them away for miles. When the wind finished, only bare earth was left for miles in any direction where once that verdant forest grew. Over the years, that place and the places around it became desert. Later, that place became known simply as the Drylands. Methoss believed that the Oasis of Bleached Bones offered a way down into the earth where the piece of The
Book of Time
lays hidden.
Book of Time
lays hidden.
I believe the fourth piece is in the hands of the goblinkin somewhere in the Haze Mountains. I am working hard now to ascertain that. As you can plainly see, the next few pages of this journal are intentionally left blank. Other pages follow that detail the histories of the three places I have mentioned, but I am leaving space for whatever I may uncover regarding the location of the fourth piece.
Other books
Wanted . . . Mud Blossom by Betsy Byars
Touch the Sky (Young Underground #8) by Elmer, Robert
The Border Lord's Bride by Bertrice Small
Gate of the Sun by Elias Khoury
The Eden Hunter by Skip Horack
White Death by Philip C. Baridon
Wooden Bones by Scott William Carter
HerCreed-ARE-epub by JenniferKacey
Confetti Girl by Diana Lopez