Lord of the Libraries (22 page)
“The Haze Mountains,” Cobner rumbled. “Isn’t that where Aldhran Khempus is supposed to be taking the Grandmagister?”
“Yes,” Craugh said. He turned. With the bright sunshine coming through the window behind him, the shadows of his broad-brimmed had masked his face. “Wick has gone there after the fourth piece of
The Book of Time
.”
The Book of Time
.”
“Ye think ’e figured out where it was, then?” Raisho asked.
“In the hands of the goblinkin,” Craugh said irritably. “Surely the truth of that is as plain as the nose on your face. Wick has gone there in an attempt to abscond with the fourth piece of the book. Aldhran Khempus, with all his blustering, must have intimated to Wick that they had found the fourth piece there.”
“That’s a stretch, don’t you think?” Jassamyn asked.
“Is it?” Craugh demanded. He stamped his staff, sending a shower of glowing emerald sparks dancing toward the floor.
Nyia
ooh
ed with the colorful display.
ooh
ed with the colorful display.
“Why else would Wick have allowed himself to be captured by his enemies? Why else would he have
planned
for that eventuality?”
planned
for that eventuality?”
Cobner ran his fingers through his thick gray beard. “It would be masterful strategy planning on his part, it would.” He grinned. “In a way, he has ‘em right where he wants ’em, doesn’t he?”
Juhg held his place in his journal where he’d transcribed the hidden message he’d interpreted from the Grandmagister’s journal. “The Grandmagister won’t be able to get the fourth piece.”
All of them looked at him.
“He mentioned it in the section that I’ve read to you,” Juhg told them. “The four pieces must be gathered in order. First—if it truly is here—the one here. Then the one in the Smoking Marshes, followed by the one in the Drylands. Only then can the fourth piece be found.”
“That might not be true.”
“It
is
true,” Juhg said. “I’ve read this much to you, but I’ve read most of the rest of the journal. I haven’t quite finished deciphering it. A later section goes back to the story Methoss told Cockleburr.” He looked at the wizard. “You remember Methoss, right? The bearded hoar-worm?”
is
true,” Juhg said. “I’ve read this much to you, but I’ve read most of the rest of the journal. I haven’t quite finished deciphering it. A later section goes back to the story Methoss told Cockleburr.” He looked at the wizard. “You remember Methoss, right? The bearded hoar-worm?”
Craugh regarded Juhg in stony silence.
“Methoss tried to get the four pieces of
The Book of Time
. He tried to get the piece from the goblinkin in the Haze Mountains first, then the one in the Drylands. He stated that he’d reached them, had even talked with the Slither there—”
The Book of Time
. He tried to get the piece from the goblinkin in the Haze Mountains first, then the one in the Drylands. He stated that he’d reached them, had even talked with the Slither there—”
“What Slither?” Jassamyn asked.
“Apparently there is a guardian that protects the four pieces,” Juhg answered.
“Who does the Slither serve?”
Juhg shook his head. “The Grandmagister didn’t know. Methoss talks about being frustrated by the Slither—”
“The
same
Slither?” Craugh asked.
same
Slither?” Craugh asked.
“Again, the Grandmagister didn’t know.”
“Did he offer some clue as to the nature of the guardian?”
“No. Either Methoss or Cockleburr wasn’t forthcoming with that information. Maybe it was simply lost. Or Cockleburr figured it was just a fanciful tale told by a talking sea monster and didn’t give the story much credence.” Juhg took a deep breath. “The point is, the Grandmagister believed that the proper order was to start here, then the Smoking Marshes, then the Drylands.”
“Saving the Haze Mountains for last?” Cobner asked.
“Yes. As each piece of
The Book of Time
is acquired, it unlocks the others,” Juhg said.
The Book of Time
is acquired, it unlocks the others,” Juhg said.
“An’ ’ow does it do that?” Raisho asked.
“I don’t know. According to the Grandmagister’s notes, the first piece was given to the humans.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. That’s part of the mystery he hoped to uncover.”
“Mayhap he did already,” Cobner said. “Just had no way of telling anyone. Or it’s in one of the books back there buried in the rubble of the Vault of All Known Knowledge.”
“Why didn’t he take the piece of the book here?” Craugh asked.
“He couldn’t get to it.”
“Where is it?” Jassamyn asked.
“Inside the Drowned City,” Juhg said. “At the bottom of Skull Canal.”
No one traversed Skull Canal at night if they could help it. Even the breeze seemed to scamper as lightly and as silently as it could across the dark water.
The canal was named for the fact that no fisherman in generations had ever dropped a net into the waters that he didn’t draw up a skull or other bones. Usually there were several. Besides that, the sunken city offered too many underwater obstacles to fishing and the long vessels used by the Imarish boatmen.
Juhg sat in the prow of the boat. Jassamyn sat behind him, clad in leather armor and her longbow close to hand. Her small draca prowled the air above them, snatching luckless mosquitoes with its long, snapping tongue. Craugh sat in the middle. Raisho and Cobner manned the short oars that propelled the craft across the smooth water.
On either side of the canal, hints of the destruction that lay underwater ahead of them rode the stony ridges of rocky soil that had survived the tsunami all those years ago. Carrion beasts prowled the dark earth, rats and corpse beetles as long as Juhg’s arms. Winged things fluttered through the air and flitted toward the draca then backed away at the last moment, causing the miniature dragonling to hiss at them.
The Garment District was three miles back, through a maze of canals
that wended through the islands leading to the center of the city region. The lanterns at fore and aft on the canal boat swung as Cobner and Raisho paddled. With the light shining on it, the water looked black and lifeless. Fish and turtles broke the surface from time to time. Those incidences never failed to send a quaver of fear thrilling through Juhg.
that wended through the islands leading to the center of the city region. The lanterns at fore and aft on the canal boat swung as Cobner and Raisho paddled. With the light shining on it, the water looked black and lifeless. Fish and turtles broke the surface from time to time. Those incidences never failed to send a quaver of fear thrilling through Juhg.
“There’s the bridge,” Cobner said.
Staring hard through the darkness, Juhg spotted the broken bridge. Perhaps once it had jutted across a wide canal, connecting two islands. Now it was a broken boot of a shape, kicked straight upward with the toe where the bridge had broken off at a pronounced angle.
“Is that it?” Craugh asked.
All of them talked in low voices, aware of how easily sound traveled across flat water.
Juhg consulted the Grandmagister’s journal. He hadn’t yet had time to copy the maps to his own journal, though he had left blank pages in the proper places for that task. Tilting the book so the page could catch the light of the prow lantern, he consulted the map.
“I think so.” Juhg looked around for other landmarks. A huge dome stuck out of the water, looking forty feet across but only a couple feet above the water line. He pointed. “That’s on the map near the right bridge.”
There were other bridges on either side of the canal. When Skydevil’s Roost had first sunk, it hadn’t gone completely beneath the sea. Sharz had told them stories of the city’s leaders trying to save the palace and the other trade guild buildings where business was conducted.
Dwarven architects had been called in to reconstruct some of the sunken buildings and save as much of them as was possible. For a time the dwarves’ efforts had worked. Bridges spanned the waters to the buildings, which were dried out and built on top of. But in the end, the sea floor had opened up again and pulled the new constructions below as well, shattering all the bridges.
“Then this is the place,” Craugh said. “Pull the boat over.”
A fish broke the surface near the boat and cold water splashed up on Juhg’s face. He checked the Grandmagister’s journal immediately, reminded at once how fragile paper and ink were. Closing the book, he slipped it back into the waterproof oilskin pouch and secured it inside a jacket pocket.
Cobner and Raisho handled the boat with expert precision, putting it
into the muddy bank at the bottom of the broken bridge stump. Both of them got out and waded into the water to steady the craft. Cobner tossed Raisho the stern line, which Raisho attached to the large rusting iron chain hanging from the bridge.
into the muddy bank at the bottom of the broken bridge stump. Both of them got out and waded into the water to steady the craft. Cobner tossed Raisho the stern line, which Raisho attached to the large rusting iron chain hanging from the bridge.
Jassamyn leaped lithely from the boat with bow in hand and took up a crouching position in the bridge’s shadow at the crest of the hillock. She held her bow across her knees with an arrow to the string and three others in her left hand.
“The man I talked to when I got this ‘ere boat,” Raisho whispered, “said no one come ’ere anymore ‘cause the dead keep watch over this place. Said if’n ye come out ’ere sometimes, ye’ll see ‘em walkin’ around.”
“Do you believe that?” Cobner scoffed.
“I seen Boneblights in Greydawn Moors only a month ago,” Raisho said, drawing his cutlass. “An’ once I seen a ship full of dead men pass us in a fog out on the Blood-Soaked Sea.” He glared at Cobner. “Ain’t ye never seen the dead walk?”
“Seen ‘em walk,” Cobner declared, “seen ’em run and seen ’em come crawling after me when they had no legs to stand on. I’ve seen skeletons and zombies. You haven’t been with Wick when he’s been on one of his proper tears. You go on one of those, you’re like to see all manner of things you ain’t ever seen before.”
“Dead things,” Jassamvn said, “break and they burn. And I’ve never seen anything that was dead that could think well for itself.” She shook her head. “The thing you still have to worry about the most? A scared or a skilled warrior with a clothyard length of steel to hand. A scared warrior will do the unpredictable, and the skilled one will take advantage of your mistakes.”
Craugh stood in the darkness, wrapped in his cloak. He held his staff at his side.
During the hours it had taken them to get ready for the trip to the Drowned City, Juhg had felt the weight of the wizard’s intentional distancing from him. It was as if a truce had been called, but it was an unfriendly one at best. Juhg didn’t notice if the others had noticed. If they had, they weren’t calling attention to it.
And if they haven’t,
Juhg thought,
I’m not sure if I care for any of them watching my back out here.
Juhg thought,
I’m not sure if I care for any of them watching my back out here.
They spread out and began searching around the hillock. It was near to sixty feet long and half that wide. The Grandmagister’s journal had stated that he’d found an entrance beside one of the broken structures near the shattered bridge. There had even been an X on the map.
Unfortunately, Sharz said that sporadic undersea earthquakes still shivered through the area. While most of the islands suffered no damage, perhaps the loss of a waterwheel from a mill or loom in the Garment District, the Drowned City often succumbed to new damage. That fact was made plain when more skeletons washed up-canal to the islands on the other side of the ruins, or down-canal to the Garment District or one of the other islands there.
“Did Wick’s journal say anything about the bridge being in the water?” Jassamyn asked.
“From his description,” Juhg said as he walked around a square building that listed badly toward the water, “the bridge remnant sat well clear of the water.”
The elven maid stared down at the brackish water lapping at the foot of the bridge. “That’s no longer true.”
“Either the water has risen or this bit of island had sunk more,” Juhg said. The thought didn’t sit well with him. If the pieces of
The Book of Time
had somehow conspired to sink the various cities where they had been stored, what was to say that the sinking was over? He kept having visions of all of them trooping down into one of the sunken buildings in search of the first piece of
The Book of Time
and getting drawn down into the wet sea floor only to be lost forever.
The Book of Time
had somehow conspired to sink the various cities where they had been stored, what was to say that the sinking was over? He kept having visions of all of them trooping down into one of the sunken buildings in search of the first piece of
The Book of Time
and getting drawn down into the wet sea floor only to be lost forever.
Hooking a finger inside his shirt collar, Juhg loosened it, feeling as though it was shutting his breath off. He had been buried alive before, in the goblinkin mines. Twice, in fact. And once with the Grandmagister when they’d gone in search of a small library of books rumored to exist under an old dwarven fort high up in the Knobblies in the frozen climes of the north. To this day, Juhg didn’t know whether being buried alive in the crypt with the Grandmagister was the worst of that particular adventure, or whether it was the dragon they had faced.
A pained cry sounded in the distance.
Juhg ducked down, instinctively finding a hiding place up against the building. He waited, breathing shallowly. He couldn’t see Jassamyn and guessed that she had gone to ground as well.
“Just me,” Raisho called sheepishly. “Couldn’t see where I was going in this miserable dark.”
Taking a deep breath, feeling the knots in his stomach unclench, Juhg stood. The stench from the sluggish water filled his nostrils with the scent of wet earth.
Like an open grave
, he couldn’t help thinking. He’d had firsthand experience with those.
Like an open grave
, he couldn’t help thinking. He’d had firsthand experience with those.
“Why didn’t Kharrion just gather up
The Book of Time
after he returned from his death?” Jassamyn asked.
The Book of Time
after he returned from his death?” Jassamyn asked.
“The Grandmagister brought up the same question in his journal,” Juhg said as he continued around the building. “He had no answers. He also went on to state that there was no proof that the two Kharrions were the same person.”
“How many could there be?”
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