"Show me one," the captain demanded. Percy cautiously pulled the piece of the Caston Region Stone from his pocket and handed it to his companion. The captain turned the rock over in his hands and smirked. "This is no exception. On the contrary, the elves have every reason to fear these stones. There is quite a bit of magic left in it, though with such original power that isn't surprising." As though to prove his point the stone glowed softly in his hand, but the light was quickly extinguished to avoid attracting attention. "See? It reacts to what little magic I contain."
"But can it be used in any way by a person with no castoring abilities?" Percy asked him.
"Yes, with the right skill and incantations," the captain replied. He handed back the stone and Percy discreetly pocketed the item.
Percy smirked. "I may have just the book with the incantations, but do you care to share the secret of the skill?" he wondered.
The captain laid his arms on the table and grinned at the eager young man. "Yes, for a price."
Percy raised an eyebrow. "What is this price?"
"A distraction, and your fealty to my Master," the captain told him.
Percy frowned, leaned back and shook his head. "No, I will not swear loyalty to anyone but myself. My father gave his loyalty to your Master and he now lies crushed beneath several tons of stone."
The captain chuckled and leaned back. "Then what you have in your pocket will remain a rock, and you will end your days as nothing more than an outcast, the cursed son of a traitor. Despised by your enemies and pitied by your friends."
"I have no friends, only those with whom I travel," Percy sneered.
"All the more pitiable, but it does not get you any closer to your dreams of power," the captain commented.
Percy narrowed his eyes. "What assurance do I have that I can trust your Master's favor?" he wondered.
The captain smiled and held out his hand. "May I see that stone once more?" he requested. Percy hesitated, but handed over one of the stones. Lee set the stone in the center of his palm and the stone pulsed with a white light that signified the color of the Caston region. The light focused into a band, and the band traced itself across the surface of the table and cut a small path through the wood. Percy's eyes widened and he reached out for the stone, but the moment he touched the rock the glow was extinguished. Lee chuckled at Percy's confused and irritated face. He put the rock on the table and slid it over to Percy. "Just a rock, but we can offer so much more," he commented.
"An interesting assurance," Percy commented.
"Then do we have an agreement?" the captain wondered.
Percy pursed his lips together, but nodded. "Very well. What must I do?"
CHAPTER 11
"Ya don't have ta be following me," Canto growled at Sins as they climbed the stairs to the terrace that held the Dueling Grounds. Sins didn't deign to answer, and the dwarf's look grew darker. "If yer going ta be being that way ya may as well leave. If Ah find trouble Ah can get out of it by myself."
"My being here is to keep you from trouble," Sins reminded him.
Canto scoffed. "Then yer wasting yer time. Nobody's been able to do that yet except my mum, and ya don't remind me of her."
"I accept the compliment," Sins replied.
Canto stopped and spun around with ax in hand. "My mum was twice the man ya are," he argued.
"I have no doubt," Sins returned.
Canto tightened his grip on his ax handle. "Are ya meaning to insult me mum?" he growled.
"You need any assistance," Sins answered.
The short dwarf stalked up to the tall assassin and tapped the pointed end of hit ax against Sins' coat. "All right, Ah've had enough of ya. Why don't we go about using those Dueling Grounds and settle our differences with a blood match? First one to cause blood wins," he challenged him.
"I do not shed blood needlessly," Sins argued.
Canto snorted. "No, only when there's a coin ta be had."
Sins stiffened. "I kill only those who deserve death," he countered.
"And who are ya to be deciding that, eh? Ya've got a lot of bloods on yer hands to be thinking other men deserve to die by them," Canto pointed out. Sins' eyes narrowed, but he didn't reply. Canto grumbled and shouldered his ax. "Ya know, Ah think ya might have a point about trouble and me. Ah've been looking for it too much lately. Maybe it's all this magic hereabouts, or maybe it's being dragged from one place to the next. Ah haven't felt this edgy since being tossed out of Dirth," he mused. Canto waited for some snarky comment, but Sins remained silent. "Ah guess ya don't really know what that's like, do ya? Wanting to call a place a home and not being able to."
"My sister is my home," Sins told him.
Canto's eyes flickered to his face and he raised an eyebrow. "That's some pretty deep words coming from ya, but fer once Ah have to agree with ya. Family's a good place ta call home if'n ya got 'em."
"Or friends," Sins replied.
"Aye," Canto drawled. He leaned toward Sins and narrowed his eyes. "Ya don't get to visiting yer sister much, do ya?"
"Why?" was Sins' paranoid response.
"Because yer changed after seeing her. She's done a good job telling ya what ya needed ta hear in that short time we were there," he commented. Sins stiffed and made as though to speak, but Canto waved off any argument. "Don't go fooling with me. Ah'm a sight older than ya and don't believe a lie when it's told ta me, but if'n ya don't want to be talking about it then let's get moving. Ah want to see if any of these fancy young elves knows what the sight of blood looks like."
The pair proceeded on their way up the stairs in the same silence, but with a little more respect for the person by their side.
While the men of the group explored the sights and intrigues of the city, Ruth and Pat ventured to the library. The building lay near the top of the hill, and halfway around the arch of the terrace on the left side of the stairs. It was a large, domed, rectangular building hewn from the same white stones as the castle and similar in appearance to the Senex building of Kite where the dome lay in the center of the roof. There was a portico on the front with thick columns that kept up the porch roof, and the front doors were tall and narrow. Outside the library was a large courtyard with a circular fountain in the center and curved benches around the periphery. The women found the square crowded with elves discussing ideas and books borrowed from the library.
"Nakedness does not disappear with clothing. We remain naked with our clothes, one cannot simply see our nakedness," one scholar pompously argued with his friend.
"You have changed the definition of nakedness to suit your argument," he countered.
"I have merely expanded it," the first elf insisted.
"Do you challenge my judgment?"
"Yes."
"Then it is with a heavy heart I must challenge you to a duel," his friend demanded.
"Very well, swords at dawn tomorrow," the first elf agreed.
The other elf appeared disappointed. "Why not now? I already have a duel scheduled for the afternoon of the morrow."
His friend sighed. "Very well. Let us go forth."
The pair passed Pat and Ruth on the way to their duel at the Dueling Grounds. The women stood dumbfounded by the quick rush to duel one another.
Ruth leaned in close to her companion. "Their customs are certainly strange," she whispered to Pat.
"Shh!" Pat hissed as her eyes flickered over the crowd. None seemed to have overheard Ruth's words. "Be careful what you say. They may consider any comment an insult," she warned her friend.
The friends passed through the crowds and the large doors. The tall, wide square entrance hall was filled with bookcases set in neat rows from wall to wall. Those that were free-standing in the center of the room were eight feet tall, but the ones along the walls were twice that height. The highest shelves were accessed by elven magic. The elves used their magic to pull the books from their positions on the high shelf and float the books down to them. Long, wide wooden tables broke up the unifo
rm lengths of the rows of bookcases, and the chairs were crowded with people perusing through the books.
Among the colorful citizens were elves robed in white cloaks. They meandered through the crowds pausing and speaking in whispered voices to the patrons and one another. To the left of the entrance was a small desk behind which was seated another of the robed elves. He bowed to the two young women, and Pat walked over to the desk.
"We were hoping to see the History Book," Pat told him.
"I am afraid humans are not allowed to view the book unless given permission by the royal family," he replied.
"We have the express permission of Princess Telana," Pat revealed.
"Written permission?" the Librarian asked her.
"No. Is that required?" Ruth wondered.
"Absolutely necessary," he replied.
Ruth glanced at her friend. "Should we return to the castle?" she asked Pat.
Pat shook her head. "No, there is another reason I wished to come here." She turned to the Librarian. "Do you have a section on swords?"
"Yes, in the farthest corner away from the door," the elf replied, indicating the area with a wave of his hand. "I am afraid our authority on weapons is currently busy, but would you like me to tell him you would like to speak with him when he becomes available?"
"That would be wonderful, thank you. He can find us in the weapon section," Pat replied. She led Ruth toward the large, free-standing bookcases which housed the books on weapons. They were surprised to find a small female elfling in the center of the aisle. She had her hand raised above her head, her mouth was set in a thin line of determination, and her eyes were focused on a large tome that shuddered and jerked on the highest shelf.
The elfling dropped her hand and the book stopped vibrating. "Drat!" she murmured.
Ruth passed Pat and knelt down beside the girl. "Is there something we can help you with?" Ruth asked her.
The girl looked up and frowned. "Only if you have magic to get that book my daddy wants," she replied.
Ruth stood and examined the height. It was a good twelve feet off the ground. "I think I can," Ruth told her.
Pat frowned and marched up to her. "You may be hurt. Let one of the Librarians manage it," she argued.
"I'm sure it won't take a moment. I may be in my human form, but as Ned says a gargoyle never forgets how to fly, so perhaps climbing is as easy," Ruth suggested.
Ruth grasped the first shelf and scurried up the others. Pat and the elfling tilted their heads back and dropped open their mouths as Ruth reached the book. She had impeccable form, but the bookcase didn't have impeccable weight balanced, at least not to hold a young woman. The bookcase began to tilt and the books slowly slid out of their places. Pat's eyes widened and she threw herself over the girl just as an avalanche of books fell toward them.
Pat expected a lot of pain as the books pelted her, but there was nothing but a bright blue light. She raised her head and saw the books float back to their places and the bookcase right itself. All glowed the bright blue of elven magic, and Pat followed the stream of light to a robed elf standing near her. Unlike the other bare-headed Librarians he wore a white skullcap, but was otherwise attired as they were.
Ruth, still clinging to the bookcase, felt the magic surround her and gently pull her and the book from the shelf. They floated down, she to the floor and the book into the arms of the elfling. The little girl smiled at the man. "Thank you!" she said, and scurried off. An adult male elf appeared at the head of the aisle. The girl waved the book over her head. "Daddy! I have your book!" the girl exclaimed.
He scooped her up and turned to the others. "I hope my little girl wasn't an annoyance," he wondered.
Ruth shook her head. "No, she was very grateful for the help," she told him.
"That's a relief. Now let's go, naughty little girl," the father told his young one.
The pair left and Pat turned to Ruth, who sheepishly smiled at her friend. "Next time I will heed your advice," she promised.
"I hope there isn't a next time," Pat returned.
CHAPTER 12
"A moment, if you will," the male elf spoke up. "I couldn't help but overhear your request, and I may be of some assistance to you. That is, if you would be willing to tell me the history of that sword." His eyes wandered down to the weapon at Pat's hips.
Pat clasped the hilt of the sword and frowned. "What do you wish to know?"
The elf chuckled. "Nothing inappropriate, I assure you, but perhaps you would like to speak of this matter in a more private setting? If you would please follow me." He turned and strolled a few paces to the rear of the room. He paused when he realized the pair wasn't following him, and glanced over his shoulder. "I assure you I mean you no harm."
Ruth gently set her hand on Pat's arm that clutched the sword hilt. "I am sure we can trust him," she assured her friend.
"But we're waiting for the authority on weapons," Pat reminded her.
"I am the authority," the elf told them.
Pat turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Then you can tell me the history of the sword?"
"Perhaps, but I may need to consult my books, and they are this way," he insisted.
"Very well. We will follow you," Pat told the gentleman.
He bowed his head and led them through the bookcases to the rear of the great hall. At the back wall were several small wooden doors, and they passed through the smallest one that stood on the far left. It led into an office of sorts, though one wracked by an explosion of clutter and chaos. Books were piled in stacks ten high on the large wooden desk, and the women waded through the stacks on the ground, careful not to crunch spines beneath their feet. The walls were covered in charts in so many languages even Pat couldn't recognize some of them, and their subjects varied from astrology to the art of potting a flower. What walls weren't covered by charts were lined with bookshelves filled with volumes and dust.
"Please excuse the mess. I was practicing with my pouch and lost control," the man commented. The two young women opted not to inquire further about male elves and their pouches.
Their new acquaintance waded around to the other side of the desk and seated himself in a chair as heavy as the Uncomfortable Chair, and of similar plain craftsmanship. He parted the stacks of books on the desk to create a hole in the center and gestured to two piles of books in front of the desk. Beneath those piles were two chairs. "Please be seated." The action took a few moments as they girls set aside the volumes and earned their seats. "First I feel I must begin by introducing myself. I am the Head Librarian of the Feora Library. Most of my fellow Librarians and the patrons refer to me as Head, but I prefer Tolen."
"What does it mean?" Ruth asked him.
"Bald. My hair was so light that when I was born I appeared bald," he revealed. He chuckled as the two young women glanced at one another. "The Elven language is very beautiful, but the words hardly stand up to the sound."
"What does Tisule mean?" Pat wondered.
Tolen chuckled. "You must be referring to Edwin Tisule. The word tisule means Wind-breaker," he replied.
"But that is a very pretty meaning," Ruth pointed out.
"It isn't referring to the breeze, but to the sound one makes when one passes gas," Tolen explained. Pat opened her mouth, but he held up his hand. "How that title came to be is best explained by the bearer. For now I would like to focus on why I invited you here." Tolen held out his hand to Pat. "May I see the sword and scabbard?"
Pat hesitated, but an encouraging look from Ruth and she reluctantly passed the sword through the gap in the desk. The elf admired the craftsmanship for a few moments before he brushed his hand over the scabbard with the sword inside. It reverted to its previous ugly state that Pat had first been presented to by Ned. The elf smiled and changed it back to its original beauty.
"A fine piece of elven construction, if I may not be so conceited in saying so," he commented.
"So it is elven?" Pat wondered.
The elf gave a
nod and ran one of his smooth hands over the jewels. "There's a certain level of dwarven influence in the stones, but the design and execution are certainly elven," he confirmed. He scrutinized Pat's face. "Do you happen to know the history of this blade? What I mean to ask is do you know how it came to be in your possession?"
"Ned-Edwin has told me it was my father's sword," she replied.
"And your father? How did he come to possess the sword?" the elf persisted.
Pat shook her head. "I do not know. I had hoped I would find some answers in the Library, or perhaps if it was elven-made the History Book would give me some hint of its history."
Tolen stood and turned to a bookcase that lay against the wall on his right. "A brilliant idea, and by chance I have the History Book here in my office. I have-ahem, borrowed it from its resting place," he explained. He paused and turned to them with a sheepish grin. "I hope you won't tell anyone else about my borrowing. It's strictly forbidden, and I am sure you have witnessed how the smallest provocation will lead to a duel. If any were to find I've broken the rules I would be challenged to a dozen duels, and I haven't time for such nonsense."
"We swear it so long as we have a chance to see the book," Pat promised.
"Oh, there's no worrying there. In fact, I believe I have seen an entry discussing that very sword somewhere between three and a half feet and three feet, four inches," he revealed.
"Three and a half feet and three feet, four inches?" Ruth repeated. "Do you not mean pages?"
"No, I mean the distance, and you shall know why soon enough. Ah-ha!" Tolen exclaimed. He pulled out a thin volume that contained only two dozen pages. "Now if you would be so kind to clear a large spot on the floor for me we shall see if I am right."
The young women were confused why such a small book would need room, but they obliged him by moving most of the stacks off the floor and onto the desk and their own chairs. Tolen knelt down and set the book upside down on the floor in front of him. The back cover faced him, but they could see the title was written on it in both human and Elvish. He opened to the first page which in any normal book would be the last and flipped through toward the back-front of the volume.
The Unwilling Accomplice (Book 5) Page 7
