He set the medallion on the table, and the voice whispered his name again.
Fear began to consume him. This wasn’t normal. It wasn’t even possible. Ajax dashed back into the hallway and picked up the torch. He sprinted back through the passage, not daring to turn around. His only desire was to get away from the alcove as fast as he could. The more distance he put between himself and the amulet, the louder it called to him.
When he finally reached the door, he touched it and was relieved when it swung open. Ajax set the torch down and hurried back into the library.
As soon as he had re-entered the reading room, the round door swung closed behind him.
“Ajax,” the voice said, clear and steady.
He rushed back to where the librarian was.
Marybeth peeked up from a book as he came out. “Did you need something Ajax?”
Shaking his head quickly, he mumbled, “No, I'm fine. I simply need to get home.” He glanced back at the room. The voice still called to him. Couldn't anyone else hear it?
“But you just barely got here,” she noted, surprised.
He had been here for hours. What was this game she was playing?
“I'll be back tomorrow,” he lied. There was no way he was ever coming back.
He rushed out of the library, not even pausing to see if Niv was still at her table. Air. That’s what he needed. The world was closing in all around him.
He happened to find Tack, and was happy when the librarian’s apprentice led him back to the exit.
Ajax wasn't sure if he'd remember how to get out of the palace, but as he rushed down the passage, he remembered the way.
Once outside the castle, he paused and bent over, half panting. He leaned up against the castle wall and took a deep breath, relieved to be free of it all.
But the voice called his name again. He covered his ears and shook his head, but nothing seemed to help.
Ajax ran home. He needed to put more distance between himself and the medallion. But the miles didn’t seem to matter; his name kept ringing in his ears louder and more frequently.
By the time he reached his house, the voice was yelling. “Ajax!”
As he stepped up to his front door, he froze, remembering the design on the medallion was the same as the one on the round door. Was this just a peculiar coincidence? He hesitantly pushed open the door to his home as an eerie feeling washed over him, afraid of what he would discover.
Relief flooded through him when he stepped into his house and everything seemed normal inside.
“Ajax, is that you?” his mother called.
“Yes, Mum,” Ajax nodded as he tried to catch his breath from running all the way from the palace.
Sweat dripped off him. He found his mother in the kitchen as he grabbed a cup and poured himself some water.
“I didn't expect you for hours,” his mother commented, not turning. “‘Tisn’t even noon yet.”
Ajax looked through the window. How was that even possible? He tried to think, but it was hard to concentrate with the incessant noise in his head.
His mother turned around. “My dear boy. What have you come down with? Into bed with you,” she urged.
It took Ajax a moment to realize that his mother must have assumed he had a fever from the state he was in.
“Just be quiet,” Ajax whined, covering his ears. As the voice continued, he yelled, “Leave me alone!”
“I beg your pardon?” his mother asked. “Fever or no fever, no son of mine is going to talk to me in that fashion.”
Realizing his mother thought he was speaking to her, Ajax apologized quickly. “I'm sorry, Mother. I've got a terrible ringing in my ears. I wasn't talking to you.”
After making up an excuse, he quickly headed into his bedroom. Ajax tried covering his head with a pillow, stuffing cotton and wax from a candle into his ears, but the voice never ceased.
By the time night had fallen and Ajax's parents were asleep, he thought he was going to go crazy if the voice didn't stop.
All night long the voice shouted his name. By morning Ajax was beginning to seriously contemplate cutting his ears off, but since no one else seemed to able to hear the sound, he wondered if it would be a pointless effort. Perhaps the sound was purely in his head.
Chapter IV
Ajax got up before his parents and headed back towards the castle before the sun had risen. It was still dark, but no one knew this area as well as he did and the main road was wide and easy to follow.
During the night, he had come to the decision that for his own sanity's sake, he would have to return to the secret room. Only when he had been in possession of the medallion had it ceased calling to him.
He wondered what the consequence was for removing something from the castle. The punishment for stealing was to have a hand removed. Would the consequence be more severe if the item was taken from the palace? But was it really stealing to take something no one seemed to know even existed, especially if it meant, that by doing so, it would save him from going insane?
The sun was just barely cresting above the treeline when Ajax approached the gate.
“You're up before the roosters, boy,” called a guard he didn't know.
“I need to go to the library.” The words poured out of his mouth quickly and almost incoherently.
The guard gave him an odd look and then shrugged. “Go ahead.”
The voice wasn't yelling as loudly, or as often anymore. Ajax trusted that this meant his plan would work and that if he took possession of the medallion, the voice would stop calling to him.
He hurried around to the door he had entered through yesterday. He paused, looking at the sun. It was early. Would the servants be up yet? What if he woke the Prince or the King?
After pausing for a moment, he assumed the brass knocker’s sound would only carry to a small area.
He took a deep breath and lifted the handle, tapping it twice.
The door swung open, and Ajax barely kept himself from jumping.
Madam Wisen looked him up and down as she dusted her hands off on her apron. “Well, I guess I should have assumed you'd come back.” She shook her head. “After all, you ventured all this way yesterday and stayed for a whole five minutes.” She gestured down the hallway. “Think you can find your own way? I'm in the middle of some blueberry pies. King's favorite, you know.”
“Yes ma'am,” Ajax nodded. “I can find my way.”
“Well, off with you, then.” She shooed him inside.
The library was uninhabited. Apparently, Ajax was the only one crazy enough to be up so early. Tack and Marybeth didn't seem to have arrived yet. He found a lamp behind the librarian’s desk and lit it. Then he headed back into the room he had been shown the day before.
He half-wondered if the round door really existed or if he had imagined it, but when he stepped into the reading room, it was in the same spot as yesterday.
The voice was no longer yelling, but seemed content now to only speak his name.
“Ajax.”
Stepping cautiously, he placed his hand on the door and watched it swing open. Leaving the lamp on the table he stepped through into the passageway. To his astonishment the torch was still lit, but there was no ash underneath the holder. Not wanting Marybeth or Tack to come looking for him and not be able to find him, Ajax jogged down the passage. The room didn't seem as far today. Perhaps it was because he knew it was there, and today he wasn't expecting anyone to jump out at him.
As he neared the room the voice grew quieter. It called his name in no more than a whisper by the time he entered through the doorway. He quickly picked up the medallion and waited.
Words couldn't convey the amount of joy he felt at the utter silence surrounding him. He slid the pendant on around his neck and settled it underneath his shirt. Power pulsed through him. He felt as if he could do anything. Ajax wondered if this feeling would diminish in time, as the voice had.
Not wishing to linger in this eerie place any lo
nger than he had to, Ajax hurried back to his reading room. He shut the door to the secret hallway and was relieved to see he was still alone.
He pulled out the book with the oath and sat down to try and memorize some of it. After wasting yesterday, only four days remained before he would be called in front of the King to offer his pledge.
Flipping through the pages, he found the oath.
I _____________ of the Maxwell bloodline, do offer my service before my King. I pledge to always keep the secret of the portal, to never divulge it to another person, apart from my wife and children. I pledge to keep my watch until my health fails me, my son takes my place, or my King releases me.
The kingdom isn't asking that much of me, Ajax thought sarcastically to himself.
I will do all that is within my power to keep the portal safe, even if my life is required. I will permit none to enter it and nothing to escape it. This is my solemn oath and I seal it with my blood.
And I get to seal it with my blood, that's not creepy, he thought.
What does it mean “let nothing escape it”? No one had ever mentioned anything coming out of the portal.
Ajax studied the oath for the next hour. It really wasn't that long. Other than being slightly odd, and demanding more than he thought anyone should ask, it wasn't too difficult to memorize.
Tack meandered by, transporting a stack of books. He stepped back and stuck his head in the room.
“You must have been up before the sun,” Tack noted. “I didn't realize anyone was here. Do you need anything?” he asked and then before waiting for an answer, continued. “I would have come by sooner, but I've been busy working in another area of the library. My apologies, I didn't know you were here.”
“No, I'm fine. Don't worry about me.” Ajax tried to smile reassuringly, as Tack seemed a little nervous.
Tack glanced around. “Ok, well let me know if you need assistance finding anything.”
Ajax nodded and went back to his book. He flipped through the pages and noticed a genealogy of the portal keepers. There were two trees. One for the Maxwell line and one for the Stoneman. They were dated back several hundred years.
Ajax ran his finger over his brother Axel's name. There had been a line scrawled through it, but it was still legible. He wondered where his brother had disappeared to. If shame wouldn't befall his family, Ajax would be out there now searching for Axel instead of pledging his life away to guard a portal that no one seemed to even know about.
A rumbling from his stomach roused Ajax from his thoughts. He didn't wish to be late for his fitting with the royal tailor. Mr. Foster hadn't seemed to care much for him during their first encounter, and Ajax desired to end their business with a better impression. He didn't want the King to think he wasn't responsible.
He shut the book and replaced it on the shelf, then slid out of the library discreetly, avoiding Tack and the librarian. He wasn't up to any small talk and although the medallion was nestled secretly underneath his shirt, he could feel the power pulsing, and worried others would somehow be able to detect it.
Ajax made his way to the tailor and arrived with plenty of time to spare. The door was propped open so he stepped in, looking around. Jaspen was sitting on a stool in the corner, sewing a button onto a bright blue jacket.
At the sound of Ajax’s approaching footsteps, the boy glanced up. Jaspen quickly jumped up off the stool and stuffed the coat behind it.
“Go-good day, sir,” the apprentice sputtered. “Mr. Foster will be right with you,” he said and then hurried into the back of the store.
A moment later Mr. Foster strutted out of the back room, carrying a large bundle under one arm.
“Master Maxwell,” the tailor smiled, surprising Ajax. “Your cloak came out very fine, if I do say so myself.” He smiled even wider as he untied the bundle. Mr. Foster threw it outward, holding onto one end as the cloak billowed out into the room.
Ajax was surprised as the cape unfolded; it seemed to shimmer with a silver tint.
Mr. Foster walked around and fastened the cloak around Ajax's neck.
“It's perfect,” the tailor beamed. “It's just the right length,” he nodded to himself.
Ajax spun around, wrapping himself in the cape. It was thick and warm, but surprisingly light. He felt the fabric between his fingers. It didn't look comparable to any material he had ever seen; it reminded him of scales on a fish. It seemed to be made up of overlapping pieces of something he had never come across.
“It fits perfectly,” Ajax replied as Mr. Foster beamed. “But—” Ajax began.
The tailor's face transformed into a scowl.
“I wondered,” he continued rapidly, “why did the color get changed?”
“It's been brown for as long as I can remember,” the tailor remarked hotly. “Honestly boy, have you never seen your father's cloak?” He waved him off dismissively, clearly done with Ajax once the praises had stopped.
Ajax examined the material again. It seemed to be a blend of colors, but if he had to pick one then he'd have to say it was more silver.
He rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept well and had risen earlier than normal. Glancing back down at the material it was still a shimmering silver.
“I guess it was merely the lighting,” Ajax said lamely. “Thank you. It is wonderful.”
Mr. Foster just scowled at him; the grumpy tailor was back.
Ready to be finished with Mr. Foster, Ajax hurried out of the shop. There was a strong eastern wind blowing in, bringing with it the first hints of the colder weather to come. Fall was brief; the leaves changed, there were a few weeks of cooler, pleasant weather, and then the snows would come.
People turned and gave him note as he left the palace grounds. His new cloak was a symbol of prestige, although few knew the real reason for it. Most thought that Ajax would be trained as a special advisor to the King, to one day take over the role they all believed his father held.
He tried to stand straighter, tried to look more elegant and confident as he strode past the onlookers, but once he stepped outside the gate all pretenses fell. The weight of his future bore down on his shoulders as if he were lugging a heavy sack of flour. With nothing to distract him on the long hike home, his thoughts were free to wander.
In a couple of days, he would be pledging his life to serve the kingdom. The words he read today haunted his mind. Let nothing escape it. Let nothing escape it. Try as he might, he couldn't get those words out of his mind. What could they mean? His father had said men might come and try to use the portal. Ajax had always assumed men would use it to go somewhere, but what if they wanted to bring something back? Could a horrible monster live inside that tree? How could he stop a monster from escaping?
Had Father ever had to defend the portal or stop a creature from exiting? he wondered. Other than the fact that Ajax knew his father went to the portal daily, he had no idea what Edwin had faced over the years, or how often he'd used his sword.
Instead of heading down the path towards home, Ajax turned and disappeared into the woods. He felt utterly unprepared for the task that was about to be set before him, and needed to speak with his father. He heard his father stand before he set eyes on him. Edwin had probably heard Ajax's footsteps approaching.
He pushed through the foliage and his father stood in the shade of the tree prepared to draw his sword. At the sight of his son he relaxed. “Ajax, I wasn't expecting you. Is everything alright?”
He nodded. “I only wished to talk to you.”
Edwin stepped forward and into the light.
Ajax's eyes widened as his father's cloak now appeared to be the same shimmering silver as his own.
“You got your cloak today,” Edwin smiled approvingly as he walked around his son, admiring it. “Milton did a fine job.”
Ajax assumed Milton was Mr. Foster's given name.
“So, what's on your mind, son?”
Ajax paused, trying to cogitate the right words to begin with. “I went to the li
brary today,” he began.
“To memorize the oath,” his father interjected.
He nodded.
“So how was the library?” his father enquired, shifting his position to avoid the sunlight that was hitting him in the face.
“Big.” He showed the width stretching his arms out as far as he could. “Haven't you been there?”
Edwin shook his head. “When I studied the oath, the book was brought to me in some sitting room on the opposite side of the palace. There had been a fire in the kitchens. Repairs were being done, and the library was being aired out.”
“Well as I was studying I realized there's still so much I don't know,” he replied, kicking a stone off into the trees.
“You'll learn,” his father reassured him as he ruffled Ajax's hair.
“I've never asked you Father...but...well have you ever had to fight anyone? Or has anything ever...come out of it?” he rushed through the last few words.
“Not since I was your age,” he said solemnly. He sat down on a rock and pointed to a fallen tree.
Ajax took a seat on the log and waited.
“Not many people know about this portal. We don't know how it got here, or how long it has existed. Your grandfather once told me that when his father was the keeper, the King sent men through the portal on an expedition to discover more about it. No one knows what happened to them. However, rumors always spread faster than a forest fire. No matter how much you consider something to be a secret, there is always someone with loose lips. In my experience, typically there is a tavern of some sort involved.” His father rubbed his hand over the stubble forming on his chin.
“Once in a blue moon someone comes looking. Normally they are from a different kingdom across the desert, or from the other side of the sea, or maybe from beyond the great mountains.” His father made a motion of pointing all around them. “Either on a ship, in a wagon, or some inn, the newcomer lets it slip—the reason they have come to our kingdom—and the King convinces him to leave before he ever comes close to finding this.” He reached out and touched the trunk of the tree.
The Portal Keeper (The Keeper Chronicles Book 1) Page 4
