by A. C. Cobble
As they walked through the keep, it felt like nothing happened. There were fewer guards and maids shuffling about on their errands, but the place hadn’t felt the impact of the battle. Everything was neat and tidy, just like the first time he had walked through these halls. The lords and courtiers of Northport remained safe and secure within the keep.
Once they passed out of the gates, it was a different story.
Heaps of corpses littered the square. Ben’s stomach clenched. He paused, worried he might get sick.
“Awful,” murmured Amelie. “Why isn’t Rhymer doing something about this? Where are the soldiers?”
There were a few scattered teams of men with rags wrapped around their faces slowly loading wagons full of dead demons. With the number of dead, it would take them at least a week just to clear the square.
“The walls?” wondered Ben. “If it was me, I’d have men on the walls.”
They picked their way carefully through the muck and carnage, heading toward the untouched library.
Ben looked to where the dozen arch-demons had fallen. Their bodies still lay there. Probably too big for any of the wagon crews to lift, he thought. He glanced over and saw the biggest one still lay buried in rubble, only the huge feet showing where it fell. He realized uncomfortably that someone was going to have to cut the creatures up and cart them out in pieces.
“You were very impressive last night,” mentioned Amelie. “When we were on the wall, you held your own and did just as much as Rhys.”
“I don’t know about that,” protested Ben. “Look at those arch-demons there.” He turned back and pointed to the massive creatures. “That is what Rhys did. If it wasn’t for him, I’m not sure we would have won the fight.”
Amelie whistled. “That is impressive. Maybe next time you will do the same.”
“Next time,” Ben snorted. “Let’s hope there isn’t a next time.”
“They’re still out there,” she reminded him. “Hundreds, maybe thousands of them fled. Someone has to face them.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” responded Ben, changing the subject. He knew she was right, but he didn’t want to talk about it. “Those artillery balls were amazing.”
Amelie blushed. “I realized something when we were in the Wilds. I don’t have the training Towaal has, and I certainly don’t have the power, but proper preparation can make up for that. I can be smart. Every force has an equal and opposite reaction. I used that with the balls and just redirected the force when they impacted. Instead of following a natural vector, it expanded outward from the core of the iron. Amplify it, add a little heat to the mix, and you’ve got a pretty effective weapon. It only worked because the velocity of the flight was so great.”
“You lost me after equal and opposite,” responded Ben.
“Well,” said Amelie, “That’s the theory–law, really. Every force has an equal and opposite reaction.”
They stepped into the unguarded door of the library and blinked in the darkness. Ben found a candle near the entrance and lit it with a striker kept there for the purpose. No one was around, so they continued deeper into the stacks.
“Like the Alliance and Coalition?” asked Ben after a pause.
Amelie frowned. “I’m talking physics.”
Ben shrugged. “I don’t know much about that, or politics really, but from what I’ve observed, that is what’s happening. The Coalition raised a force and the Alliance responded. Equal and opposite. Maybe it’s not a theory in a book, but if you see it, that means something, right? I think there’s a word for that...”
“Information gathered through observation is empirical evidence,” mumbled Amelie, lost in thought.
“Empire what?” asked Ben, confused.
“Never mind,” she replied quietly. “In pure physics, the opposite forces are reactions. They don’t have an aspect.”
“I’m not following,” replied Ben.
“They’re not good or evil, right or wrong,” explained Amelie. “They are natural forces.”
They were in the open room in the center of the building now but couldn’t see anyone or any light. They crept around tall shelves, looking for a sign of Lady Towaal.
“So, you’re saying it’s not the same,” asked Ben in a whisper, “because the Coalition is evil?”
“I’m not sure,” answered Amelie.
Ben looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
“When Argren formed the Alliance, he said it was for the good of the people,” she continued. “He said we would stand together to fight evil, and I believed him. But earlier, when Lord Jason visited Issen, he also claimed the Coalition was for the good of the people. He said it in almost the same words. Myland in Free State didn’t think there was any difference between the two. What if…” Amelie paused, gathering her thoughts. “What if Argren and Jason both believe what they say. What if they both think they are doing good?”
Ben frowned. He hadn’t thought of it like that. “Well, I wouldn’t say that either group is doing is good right now. Lord Jason tried to capture you and is attacking Issen. Lord Argren hasn’t lifted a finger to help and seems to only be interested in protecting his own interests.”
“Exactly,” responded Amelie.
Ben rubbed his hand over his face. He was still exhausted from the battle the day before and wasn’t prepared for this type of thinking.
“Deep discussions,” echoed a tired voice behind them.
Ben and Amelie both jumped in surprise. They spun and nearly dropped the candle into a pile of dry, loose leafed books.
“Be careful with that,” scolded Towaal, looking at candle. “Every time I think I teach you something…” She waved for them to follow her into the darkness. Muttering quietly, she kept talking to herself, “Nearly burning down the most important library left in Alcott. Unbelievable.”
Ben and Amelie exchanged a sheepish glance then followed her to a back corner where she ducked through a curtain.
Brushing it aside, Ben saw a narrow stone hallway lit by a single wall sconce. The hallway appeared to lead beyond where he thought the wall of the library should have been. At the end of it was a warmly lit doorway that Towaal disappeared into. They scampered after her.
Through the doorway was a small room, roughly the size of Ben’s apartment in Farview. It contained only a short wooden shelf, a tall cabinet, and a well-worn reading chair.
The doors of the cabinet hung open to reveal a set of shelves holding a scattering of miscellany. Ben couldn’t tell the purpose of any of it, but given its place in the library, he assumed Towaal stumbled across something important.
“We came to check on you,” said Amelie, peering around the room.
“Of course,” murmured Towaal. Dark shadows hung below her eyes and she had a rumpled, distracted look about her. Compared to her usual, professional demeanor, it was shocking. She reminded Ben of when he’d seen Amelie and Meghan just after big exams at the Sanctuary.
“Are you okay?” asked Amelie.
Towaal nodded. “I have been learning a lot over the last two days.”
Ben waited for her to continue.
“The Purple has not entirely disappeared,” remarked Towaal.
“They were here?” asked Ben, looking around the room with renewed interest.
“Yes,” answered Towaal. “The Librarian was more than he seemed.”
“The Librarian is part of the Purple!” exclaimed Amelie. “Does Rhymer know?”
Towaal replied brusquely, “I am certain Rhymer knows more than he’s told so far. I want to find out what I can in this place, and then I will confront him. This is too serious to keep secret. And the Librarian was part of the Purple, not is.”
“What do you mean?” queried Ben. “Is he dead?”
“After the battle, the Librarian is no more,” she answered. “He…” She frowned, visibly searching for the right word. “Disintegrated.”
Ben stared at her.
“I believe he uti
lized more will than he was capable of commanding,” she explained. “Whether on purpose or on accident, he somehow converted himself into pure energy. It was expended attacking the arch-demon.”
“The lights!” guessed Ben.
Towaal nodded. “Yes, that was him. I was at my limit and had used all of the power stored in the rod. Without him, the arch-demon would have run rampant. As I suspected he would, the Librarian stepped in and defended Northport.”
“As you suspected?” asked Amelie.
“Yes,” replied Towaal. “I knew that if the arch-demon had truly been alive for millennia, even with the repository, I would be insufficient. I counted on the Purple resurfacing. They had to prevent the slaughter and harvesting of the life-blood in Northport as well as protect the rift key.”
“How did you know they would be able to, uh, resurface?” asked Ben. “How could you be sure?”
Towaal replied, “When I found the rift key and the documents relating to it, there were clues. The Librarian was extremely upset I found what I did, and after that, he refused to answer questions. It was enough for me to put some pieces together. For example, there is only one Librarian listed anywhere in relation to this library. How no one else seems to have noticed that, I do not know. The mind believes what it wants to believe, I suppose. Certainly no one expected there to be a male mage. The man we met was long-lived.”
“What about his assistant?” asked Amelie.
Towaal shrugged. “He is missing. Whether he had something to do with the Purple, whether he is also a male mage, I do not know.”
Ben frowned. “And you think the Librarian was here to protect this rift key?”
“I can only assume, yes,” answered Towaal.
“Are there others? Other members of the Purple in Northport?” asked Amelie.
Towaal did not answer. Most likely, she didn’t have an answer.
“So, it’s over then,” declared Ben. “You have the rift key, and the arch-demon was defeated. Now we can focus on our other problems, like Issen.”
Towaal coughed. “Not exactly.”
Ben frowned, dreading what was next.
“We have a rift key here, which, of course, must be protected at all costs,” continued Towaal. “If you remember, right before the fight, I mentioned there is another key. These documents lead me to believe it is located in Irrefort.”
“The capital of the Coalition?” Ben groaned.
Towaal nodded.
“What does that have to do with us?” griped Amelie.
Towaal sat down in the lone reading chair in the room and slumped back, silent.
Amelie stared at her. “You want us to go to Irrefort?”
Towaal didn’t deny the accusation.
Ben paced back and forth across the small room. “What do you expect us to do in Irrefort? Go ask Lord Jason if he has any magical keys to create a new Rift?”
“I’m not sure what you should do,” answered Towaal quietly. “I wish I had the answer. Helping Issen would be an honorable thing to do if you can figure out how to do it, and I worry the demon problem is not yet finished here. Hundreds of demons fled after the battle. Maybe we could help with that somehow.”
She sat in the chair listlessly, not meeting their eyes. “I cannot help you by giving you the answer. I am trying to help by sharing information that is contained in these documents.” She waved to a sheaf of parchment stacked on a small writing table. “As you’ve been told, I am willing to follow your lead. It’s up to you what you want to do.”
“And if we did go get this rift key…” started Ben.
“It would need to be protected or maybe even used,” finished Towaal. “Remember, we do not know what the consequences of destroying the first rift will be. If I could go back, I would have spent more time interviewing the Librarian. At the time, of course, we did not know his role, and he did not have a chance to confront us before we made our final decision. He was rather angry at us afterward. I can only hope we did not make a mistake.”
“This is not enough information,” protested Ben. “You’re asking us to make decisions about things we know nothing about. We need to know more.”
“I agree,” nodded Towaal sagely, “but I do not have the information you want.”
“Who does?” exclaimed Ben.
“The Purple,” replied Towaal calmly.
“But,” complained Ben, frustrated at Towaal’s reticence, “we are back at square one. Where do we even find one of these Purple?”
“The Librarian was located in the same place as a rift key,” remarked Towaal. “Maybe the rift key in Irrefort also has a guardian?”
“Well, that is just…” Amelie started then paused. “I’m too tired for this,” she finished helplessly.
After breakfast the next morning, Ben went to check on Rhys.
In his friend’s room, a chambermaid directed him outside to a small, bare courtyard. Rhys was sitting, wrapped in a heavy cloak, and sipping a cup of kaf.
Ben stepped into the courtyard and Rhys began speaking without looking over. “Funny, isn’t it. It is cold when you think about it, but after the Wilds, I find it quite comfortable outside.”
Ben grunted. It felt pretty cold to him.
He walked toward his friend then slowed as he got close. Something was different about Rhys.
His friend finally looked over and gave a wan smile.
Ben stared, confused. Shallow laugh lines webbed out from Rhys’ eyes, his cheeks looked gaunt, and two wings of snow white graced his hair at the temples. Rhys was older.
“You look…different,” said Ben hesitantly.
“That I do,” agreed Rhys.
Ben sat next to his friend on the iron bench and almost immediately regretted it. Despite Rhys’ opinion, the bench was damn cold. The chill crept through Ben’s thick wool britches.
He looked at Rhys again. He didn’t know where to start. How do you ask a friend why he suddenly appears fifteen years older than he did the day before?
Rhys brushed back his cloak and laid a hand on his longsword leaning against the bench.
“When Towaal explained mage craft to you, she discussed how anything was possible with enough will and knowledge,” he murmured. “For the most part, that is true. To be complete, there is a third ingredient to performing magic. Energy. Will and knowledge are the tools to manipulate the world around us. The material you are actually manipulating is energy. The electricity she raised, the heat Amelie used to start a fire, it is all energy. If there is no energy in the environment, a mage, or someone using a magical device, can draw that energy from within themselves.”
Ben nodded. Towaal hadn’t said it this way, but that was similar to what she described.
Rhys kept talking after a sip of his kaf. “You’ve seen Towaal draw from her own reserves. She gets tired and sleeps. There are other, more permanent sources of energy that can be drawn from.”
Rhys’ sword lay between then, the wire-wrapped hilt sticking up. Ben edged his elbow away from it.
“I don’t understand,” responded Ben.
“Demons feed on our life forces as a source of energy, for example.”
“Oh,” said Ben, a sickening feeling growing in his stomach.
“That type of thing,” remarked Rhys, “you can’t just get a good night sleep and recover from.”
“You mean, there is a slower recovery, or no recovery?” asked Ben hesitantly.
Rhys finished his kaf and shrugged. “I’ve been alive a very long time. I’ve seen a lot of things I didn’t believe were possible and a lot of things I didn’t expect to see. So, who knows? Anything is possible with enough will.”
“Is there,” Ben paused, “anything I can do?”
“Like make me a casserole?” snorted Rhys.
“I, uh, I guess I don’t know,” replied Ben sheepishly. “If I can help…”
“No, Ben, there’s nothing you can do,” answered Rhys. He raised his empty mug. “Come on. I need a refill.”
Rhys stood slowly and grimaced. He placed a steadying hand on the arm of the bench as he rose. “This will take a bit of getting used to. I think it must be similar to what you feel like when you try to drink with me.”
Ben snorted. “Faker.”
The rogue chuckled then headed back inside the keep. Ben followed behind. His friend didn’t move like the creaky grandfather he pretended to be when he stood, but he also didn’t move like the buoyant raconteur he had been a few days before.
***
The cleanup of Northport progressed slowly. After a few days, Rhymer devoted more resources and the city started to look like a livable place again. One by one, markets reopened and kids came out from hiding to play in the streets. The scars of the battle would last for years though, maybe generations.
Ben and Amelie briefly pitched in, but Ben quickly found he had no interest in carting off several-day-old dead bodies. He didn’t even know where to begin on rebuilding. They’d fought for Northport, and that was enough.
Rhymer was a whirl of activity, the polar opposite of Ben’s impression of the man when they were in Whitehall. He supposed losing his crutch of a seneschal and nearly losing the entire city was a wake-up call for the man.
Towaal remained buried in the library, trying to learn anything else she could about the Purple and their purpose with the Rift.
Rhys drank, heavily.
In and of itself, that wasn’t unusual for the rogue, but he carried a darkness around him now. He’d lost some of his jovial, joking nature. Corinne spent a lot of time with him. Mostly, she stayed silent by his side. Ben hoped that, in time, his friend would come out of himself and see her there. She had lost her father. They both could use someone to lean on.
Ben prodded Rhys about it, trying to cheer him up.
Rhys responded sharply, “I’ll be fine. She’ll be fine. We both just need to move on, to go in a new direction. How is that going, by the way?”
Ben sighed. That was the problem. He and Amelie didn’t know what direction they should take. She was worried about her father and family in Issen. There were the rift keys to consider in Irrefort. Expeditionary parties would be formed in the coming weeks to scout the demon’s movements, and there was the ever-present threat from the Sanctuary. If they knew where to go, they would leave that day.
