The Library of Anukdun (Legend of the White Sword Book 5)

by P. D. Kalnay

  “Only I can let him out,” I said.

  There was no question about it. The nagging feeling that had drawn me deep under the library came from the cage. Marielain Blackhammer had made that cage, and only he/I could open it. If any other attempted to do so, it would cause the prison to grow smaller. I didn’t understand how, but the enchantments created a somewhere else inside the sphere. I was sure that for the prisoner, those enchantments didn’t exist in any practical or accessible way. Nobody could escape a prison like that and garnering outside help would only make the prison more confining. I could tell at least one such attempt had been made. The sphere had other active enchantments whose function I didn’t understand.

  It was the most mysterious thing I’d seen, besides the Arath.

  “Why?” Ivy asked.

  “Marielain Blackhammer built this; no one else can open it,” I said.

  “And there’s your answer, girl. This cage sustains me, even as it holds me tight. I know not how many years have passed outside, but I’m a ready to answer you now, Smith.”

  “You recognise me?” I knew I looked nothing like Marielain Blackhammer.

  “I know you better than you know yourself. Ask your questions. I am prepared to bargain.”

  That’s what we’d come to Anukdun to do, but a nagging part of me suggested that I was the one at a disadvantage in the negotiation. Ivy gestured for me to speak.

  “How was Janik banished? Why did you betray him? How do I return Janik Whiteblade to this world?” I asked.

  A satisfied and super-creepy sigh emanated from the cage.

  “Three answers will require three boons.”

  Ivy nodded as though she’d expected him to say that.

  “What do you want in exchange for the answers?” I asked.

  “Release from this cage, the return of my sword—most considerate of you to bring it along—and a truce.”

  “A truce?”

  “For seven days and seven nights, we shall leave each other unmolested.”

  “And after that?”

  “I make no promises for the after.”

  I looked to Ivy.

  “He purchases time to flee your wrath,” she said. “If we succeed in our quest, then the Dragon Lord may seek his own vengeance, if he wishes.”

  I didn’t know what Mr. Ryan would be like on the First World, but considering the plain-Jane, vanilla, human version… I didn’t like Vraith’s long-run outlook.

  “Deal,” I said. “Answer my questions and you have your freedom.”

  There were a few seconds of silence where I wondered if he would answer.

  “Janik was banished using an Eldritch Enchantment, completed by three fae kings and queens, and powered through the sacrifice of their crowns–”

  “Liar!” Ivy interrupted, “They would never–”

  She was in turn interrupted by a burst of Vraith’s laughter.

  “Never underestimate what fae will sacrifice in exchange for power,” he said. “Your kind are nothing if not predictable.”

  Ivy’s shoulders shook with rage, but she stayed silent.

  “I betrayed Janik Whiteblade for the same reason I joined the Order of the Tree. The High Priestess ordered it. She foresaw that Janik would prove an obstacle, preventing the return of our Lord, and sent me forth.”

  “As to returning him,” Vraith paused, and I suspected he was savouring the moment. When he continued, I heard a cruel smile in his voice. “You must repeat the enchantment. You must forge a bridge between Janik and this world. Then you must enlist the blood of the Three Houses, along with three relics equal to the crowns, and having sacrificed those relics… you must make a balanced exchange for the soul of the Dragon Lord. Only then can he return or be reborn upon this world.”

  I was about to tell him I needed more details when two previously invisible seams, running down the front of the cage, glowed silver. His answers had completed an enchantment within the cage, and more magical locks than I could count sprang open. The segment between them hinged forward like a metal flower petal creating a bridge from the cage to the platform on which we stood. At the same time a ripple of energy passed through me. It was akin to the sensation I’d felt when Ivy had sealed our pact with Falan, but more intense.

  Vraith Stormshadow made his slow way out of the sphere.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect. The race Vraith belonged to was new. He was man shaped, stood slightly shorter than me, and was impressively muscular for a guy who hadn’t moved in the last fifteen hundred years. His long hair and skin were pitch-black and they absorbed rather than reflected the light from the lamps—reminding me of the shadowy coating that wyvern exhibited. More than anything he resembled one of the Fae, and would have been handsome if not for the ugly burns covering the left side of his face and his left hand. It looked like the dark skin hadn’t healed during his long incarceration.

  Vraith Stormshadow wore the black robes of a Knight of the Order with the tree on the left breast torn off, leaving a jagged hole in the heavy fabric. Huge yellow irises filled white eyes almost to the edges, and sharp teeth peeked out of a satisfied smile.

  “Our pact is made,” he said, “as demonstrated by my freedom.” He held out a hand, “My sword.”

  I unbuckled the sword belt and handed it to him. Vraith made a show of leisurely donning the belt and scabbard.

  “I’m surprised that’s one of the things you wanted,” I said.

  “It was made for me.” Vraith laughed. “The things I’ve done—and shall do again—with your handiwork… I smiled every time this blade cut down a sweet, innocent child. It’s important to savour the little things.”

  Before I could help myself, my steel fist flew towards his face, only to stop short of its own accord. I couldn’t move it any closer.

  Vraith’s smiled widened, “We have a truce.”

  Ivy’s necklace came to life in the corner of my eye.

  “We have no tru–”

  Vraith’s arm shot out, striking Ivy in the middle of her chest. He was impossibly fast, and while in motion, his arm was only a blur. The lantern flew up from Ivy’s hand, illuminating the shocked look on her face—for the instant before she disappeared over the edge.

  “It’s a long way to the bottom, Smith,” Vraith said, heading up the walkway. “I’ll see you around.”

  I jumped from where Ivy had fallen. Her lantern tumbled next to her as she fell through the void. I gathered air above me and drove down faster than terminal velocity would allow. Doing so was horribly unnatural, but the situation definitely counted as desperate times.

  We met in midair with a thud, and I wrapped her in my arms. I tried to slow us, thickening the air below and thinning the air above my wings. That slowed us a little, allowing both lanterns to fall ahead of us, but as small as Ivy was, she was far beyond the weight I could hold aloft. We were still falling way too fast when Ivy’s lantern lit the smooth, shiny floor of the cavern.

  My lantern illuminated its extinguishing splash just before icy water engulfed Ivy and me.

  The cold water tore Ivy from my arms, and I discovered why winathen don’t swim. Wings and water don’t mix, and in the utter darkness, I couldn’t tell which way was up. With the last of my breath already gone, I saw dim golden light and swam for it. My head broke surface before I reached the light emanating from Ivy’s butterfly hairclips.

  “Jack!”

  “Ivy, are you OK?”

  “Alive, at least. You?”

  “I’m fine, but I don’t know how long I can tread water now that I’ve got these wings and this heavy hand.”

  “Come, let us swim to the side and find a handhold.”

  I followed Ivy to the side of the cavern. It was a tough swim although it probably wasn’t further than a hundred yards. We found a ledge and pulled ourselves up and half out of the water.

  “That could have gone better,” Ivy said when she’d got her breath back.

  “I could have done without the swi
m. Still, we have the answers we came for, so we’re halfway to returning Mr. Ryan, right?”

  Ivy didn’t reply.

  “Right?”

  “Jack…”

  “What’s wrong? I mean other than the obvious us-being-trapped-in-the-bottom-of-a-water-filled-dungeon-in-the-dark part.”

  “Oh, Jack.”

  Ivy sounded as though she straddled the border between hysterical laughter and tears.

  “Tell me what I don’t know,” I said.

  “It may be impossible to return him to this world–”

  “That douche bag just told us how,” I said. “I think we’re partway there…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he said we need a bridge to Mr. Ryan, and that’s what the rings I made do, right? Plus we need a person representing each of the Three Houses. Between us, you and I have that covered—it’s what brought us together.”

  “I hadn’t considered those things, but…”

  “So now we need a few crowns or something similar. I could make crowns if necessary. How hard could that be?”

  “Hard.”

  “How hard?”

  My optimism slipped away.

  “The crowns of Faentalene are—I suppose were—simple bone circlets carved so long ago that our folk have no record of it; our most ancient scrolls date back hundreds of thousands of years.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Those crowns were said to have been carved from the finger bones of a giant who lost the finger in the battle which ended the Destroyer’s reign of terror.”

  I didn’t know there were giants, “Where do giants live?”

  “There are no living giants. The crowns were crafted from the bones of a titan. Relics from before history aren’t lying around waiting to be picked up, and we must find not one, but three powerful relics to reverse the enchantment. We also need to discover how they cast the enchantment and figure out what constitutes a fair exchange for the soul of Janik Whiteblade. I think halfway there is an overoptimistic estimation of our situation. That monster was so pleased with himself—because he doesn’t fear our success.”

  “No other pieces of titans exist?”

  “There’s the White Sword, but even if we had it, sacrificing it to return Janik would be self-defeating. Legends tell of a few other fabled talismans that may or may not be actual remains of titans. I can only think of one off-hand. We are underneath the most extensive collection of knowledge in the world, so maybe we can discover the locations of others.”

  “What’s the one you know of?”

  I wasn’t feeling rested enough to do any climbing yet.

  “It’s said the crown of the Shogaan Emperor was crafted from the scale from a titan serpent whose name is lost to time. Many have searched for it over the last three millennia; I doubt you and I will simply stumble across the Lost Crown of Rornoch.”

  “Crap! Crap! Crap!”

  I couldn’t help kicking the water in front of me. The urge to break something, or hit myself, was overwhelming.

  “Jack! Get a hold of yourself.”

  “Sorry, I may have screwed-up,” I said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know how Erialain has been hiding something for Marielain Blackhammer…”

  It was just bright enough for me to see Ivy’s eyes widen in surprise.

  “You can’t mean–”

  “Yup, we had the crown within reach. Heck, she tried to give it to me. Now, we’ll have to go all the way back to Gaan to collect it. Crap.”

  “It’s an inconvenience, but also an unimaginable stroke of luck,” Ivy said. “It seems ridiculous to say that we only need to find two more remnants of titans, but it’s slightly less inconceivable, and as you said—we have the library to search. At least, until they discover we’ve freed Vraith Stormshadow. Most of the world’s collected knowledge waits above us, but finding what we need will be no small task.”

  “Well, it doesn’t look as if people are coming down here all the time,” I said. “So we should have a while before anyone notices he’s gone. I guess we’d better start climbing. It’s a long way up.”

  Climbing hundreds of feet in the dark held little appeal, but–

  “I believe there’s an opening on the far side,” Ivy said.

  She pointed, and I followed her finger. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and I thought that maybe there was a slightly darker patch across the water. I wouldn’t have sworn to it under oath.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “I don’t want to swim and climb.”

  A shimmering bee shot from her necklace like a golden lightning bug. It was tiny, but in the absence of other light, a tunnel mouth could clearly be seen once the bee entered.

  “It is worth trying that path before attempting to scale these walls,” Ivy said. “Perhaps it will lead us back up to the library.”

  “What was that guy?” I asked.

  Vraith hadn’t matched the description of any race I’d learned about.

  “I believe he’s a shadowlord,” Ivy said. “Though I’ve never met one and have based half of my guess upon his name.”

  “A shadowlord?”

  “Yes, dispute exists over whether shadowlords are distant relations to the Fae. The schools of thought believing us related have grown less outspoken in recent times.”

  “Why’s that?”

  I brushed something slimy and slithery from the side of my face. It had dropped from the ceiling of the cavern, and I manfully constrained an embarrassing squeal.

  “Mainly because of Moridun Shadowmark, but all the inhabitants of the Shadowmarches had unsavoury reputations.”

  “I read about that guy at Gran’s, but it wasn’t very informative. Where are the Shadowmarches?”

  “They were the last land to be swallowed by the Black Wastes. The Dun marks the northern border of the Wastes, and the Shadowmarches marked the southern. Now the Wastes run right up into the foothills of the Shard Mountains. The folk of the Shadowmarches held back the Wastes for longer than the Empire stood. I’m uncertain how. Accounts agree that visitors were never welcome in the lands of shadow.”

  “What about this Moridun guy?”

  All I knew was he had brought the library sword to Gran’s and had maybe helped bring down Camelot.

  “Too long a tale to tell now,” Ivy said. “If you are rested, we should swim.”

  ***

  The opening Ivy found didn’t lead back to the library or the dungeons. After another swim we found ourselves waist deep (or in Ivy’s case, chest deep) inside a rough natural tunnel. Past a short stretch of utter darkness, the walls and ceiling displayed colonies of luminescent fungi which provided enough light to see the way forward. The tunnel twisted and turned, and some spots were barely wide enough for a guy with wings to squeeze through. I began to desperately hope that it led out to somewhere. The thought of backtracking was too upsetting.

  Hours of wading, crawling, and climbing later, we heard the roar of the waterfall up ahead, and, finally, the other end of the sloping tunnel exited behind the base of the falls. Ivy and I looked through a curtain of water and mist. The sun had risen and we could make out its vague fiery glow on the other side.

  A narrow, slippery path travelled a short distance behind the waterfall and led to a spit of rock at its base. We walked to the end of that rocky outcropping, surrounded by the deafening thunder of the falling water on either side. The mist was thinner at the tip of the outcrop and we could see our campsite downstream, along with the boat, and a moment later Falan as he rounded the island carrying firewood. He wasn’t looking our way, and I’d never sent my voice so far, but, not wanting to dare the rapids, I gave it a shot.

  “Falan,” I shouted.

  I knew my magical channel of air had only made it about halfway to the island, but he turned our way with a start. I waved both arms, and he waved back. He hopped in the boat and started for the falls before I could articulate our need. Fala
n was a solid guy you could count on. He navigated the rapids at the base of the falls and drove the prow up against the rocks in front of us. I held the bow while Ivy vaulted over the gunnel, then I jumped in, and Falan took the boat about and back through the rapids. It was a rough ride and between the water showering down from above and that which splashed in over the sides, another boat would have been swamped. The bilge pump shot a high plume of water out of the boat the entire time, keeping us afloat. Soon we were on the island and tying up again. Ivy and Falan joined me on the shore.

  “I was growing worried,” Falan said, “and torn over whether to await you here or come after you.”

  “It’s only been a few days,” I said. That was too soon to worry.

  Falan pointed up above the falls. The shocked look on Ivy’s face made me look too.

  Orange flames lit the Great Library of Anukdun. They licked from windows and collapsing roofs, and a black pillar of smoke climbed out of sight into the clear blue sky. The only sound I heard was the fall of water, but I suspected there was shouting to go along with the inferno.

  “The fire began a short time ago,” Falan said, “and spread quickly. I worried for your safety.”

  There were several layers of enchantments in place in the library to prevent fires. Only purposeful intervention could have set it alight.

  “Vraith Stormshadow is taking his revenge upon the library,” Ivy said. She pointed up at the bridge. “Jack, he opened the dungeons too.”

  The gigantic crab thing I’d seen through the peephole scuttled a across the section of bridge between gate tower and library, before disappearing from view again. It looked small, but only because we were so far away.

  “I have to go back,” I said. “This is my fault.”

  Ivy didn’t disagree with either statement.

  Chapter 32 – Book Burner

  I dug my shimersilk cloak from my pack since it was the closest thing I had to armour.

  “You’d better take me back across to the beach again,” I told Falan.

  “Do you imagine you are going alone?” Ivy asked.

  She already wore her own silver-white cloak and had her quiver in one hand and bow in the other.