“Those things are speaking, Lae? Tavin said they couldn’t.” Marac reached for his sword.
Laedron stayed his hand. “If they wish to speak, then let them. We needn’t start anything unnecessarily.”
“Who are you?” one of the Trappers asked again.
“Laedron Telpist.”
“Why you here?”
Almost childlike, but it seems to understand. Fascinating. “We’ve come for The Bloodmyr Tome.”
“What is the Bloodmyr Tome?”
“This is nonsense.” Marac threw his hands in the air. “They only mean to delay us. Or trick us.”
“I don’t think so; they don’t need to trick us. If they wanted us dead, they would attack.” Laedron crept a few steps closer to the Trappers. “Perhaps they’ve never seen the tome before.”
Brice pointed at the crystal beings. “Seen it? The thing doesn’t have eyes, Lae. Of course, it’s never seen it; it hasn’t seen anything.”
“It must have a way of feeling out the world. If they can’t see-”
“We see fine.”
“Well, there you have it.” Laedron raised his voice to address the Trappers. “What we seek is a book, something that your master would have guarded closely. A book of spells and history.”
“No books.”
Brice smirked. “Well, there you have it.”
“It’s got to be down here somewhere. He wouldn’t have left it far from his reach.” Laedron scratched his chin. “A scroll?”
“No scrolls.”
“What if it’s something else entirely?” Valyrie asked, stepping between Laedron and Marac. “And what if we posed the wrong question?”
“It’s been described as a book or a tome whenever anyone’s referred to it. What question do you think we should be asking?”
He watched her eyes slowly shift toward the constructs. “Did your master have any places that you were not allowed to go? Any place that you might be punished if you entered?”
The Trappers, though they lacked eyes, seemed to stare at each other as if deep in thought, then one raised its crystal appendage to point at a tunnel Laedron hadn’t noticed. “Master’s lodgings.”
“Good work, Val.” Laedron, his friends following close behind, walked across the cave to the tunnel the Trapper had indicated, then proceeded through it into the chamber beyond.
16
The Bloodmyr Tome
Laedron opened a heavy wooden door. The room beyond seemed like a small house with an open floor plan, for no walls existed between the nooks obviously meant for different purposes. Bookshelves, a huge dining table, a few chairs, and a bed were placed haphazardly. Entering, Laedron first noticed a rack of weapons containing a mighty axe and a hammer, then the many tapestries hanging upon the rocky walls, as if Kareth had tried to feel normal by arranging them around his personal quarters. But how did he get them? If he crafted them, the man clearly had plenty of time to himself, Laedron thought, taking the end of a nearby tapestry and feeling it between his fingertips. But what material is this? It feels like wool, but we’ve seen no sheep in this forest. Then again, we’ve encountered few animals at all. Then, he recalled the story Tavin had told him about the Trappers killing off the animal life, and he moved on to the next curiosity, the fire pit in a room without windows or a chimney.
A fire blazed in the middle of the room past a long dining table and its single chair. Crouching to examine the fire closer, Laedron surmised that the flames burned without wood or any other kind of fuel. The fire rose from thin shards of crystal in the bottom of the stone pit, and he would have reached in to grab one if it hadn’t been putting off heat. He rose and walked to the far wall when he caught a sparkle of light in the corner of his eye.
Upon a hardwood shelf sat a number of knickknacks-statuettes shaped from gems, horns, and fangs from beasts, and other such curios. The collection reminded him of Ismerelda’s in Westmarch. Is this some common trait amongst immortals? The collection of bits of one’s life to be put on display? His eye twitched. Why would he display these things if he’s been here alone this whole time? For his pleasure? Reminders of his actions? He knew of the Uxidin’s inability to remember more than the span of the last fifty years or so with much accuracy, and he attributed the existence of the shelf to that need. Kareth needed the trinkets in order to keep his past deeds fresh in his memory.
The room contained maps of places that hadn’t existed for hundreds of years. Odd clothing hung on a rack in the corner. Whereas the modern peoples of Bloodmyr donned shirts and pants, or dresses for women, the clothes resembled coatdresses that were almost effeminate. Kareth must have lived in a time when either sex could dress in robes of rich colors and floral patterns.
“I can just imagine that fiend dressing in women’s clothing and dancing around his campfire.” Marac snatched one of the gowns and tossed it to the ground. “Does his madness go on without limit?”
“No need to throw it on the ground, Marac.” Brice picked up the robe. “Perhaps Valyrie would like-”
“To wear the clothes of an insane man who tried to kill us? No, thanks.”
“He came from a different time, Marac. These were probably standard fare in ancient Uxidia.”
“No matter,” Marac said. “Have you found what you need here?”
“Not yet.” Laedron walked to the next bookshelf and browsed the contents. “I’d be interested to read most of these works, but the tome isn’t here.”
Brice held up a red block that he’d picked up from the dining table. “Wow, look at this, Lae!”
Joining him at the end of the table, Laedron stared in awe at the contraption, then realized what it was. “Creator…”
“This is it, isn’t it?” Brice grinned and bounced with excitement. “I found it. You hear that, Marac? I’m the one who found it.”
“That’s nice, Thimble.” Marac gave him a blank stare, then approached. “What is it, Lae?”
“A book fashioned from sheets of ruby, if appearances don’t deceive.” Laedron examined every side of the device, then found what he thought to be the front cover. “If it is a book, it’s untitled and nondescript.”
“Much like the novel I had when you first met me, yes?” Valyrie asked, gazing at the ruby book as if it were a gleaming pile of treasure. “Not all books have names.”
“One as important as this? You’d think they’d stamp it on the cover,” Marac said.
“It would seem that some of the most valuable things in the world come without labels.” Laedron ran his finger along a clasp also made entirely of ruby. He ignored his niggling conscience and the words he’d told Callista in Nessadene. I would be mad to return this book without peering inside first. Such an opportunity will never come again. Not for power, not for sinister reasons… curiosity. To see what the Uxidin need with it. That’s all. “It would seem that this mechanism opens it.”
“We weren’t told to open it, Lae.” Stepping forward, Marac put his hand on the book. “We were told to return it to Harridan, nothing more. I would rather rid it from the world, but I doubt you would entertain that notion.”
“Do the contents frighten you, Marac? A quick peek couldn’t hurt anything.”
“I agree with him, Lae,” Valyrie said. “What would be gained by reading these pages?”
What could be gained? Surely, that cannot be a serious question. Partaking of the knowledge of the deepest magic? The spells practiced by the ancient mages? “Everything, Val. The secrets of creation itself lie within these pages. All manner of magic knowledge, all right here.” He glanced at Brice to see if he could detect any agreement or dissent, but Brice merely stared at them. Never mind him. He’s probably daydreaming of feasts and riches.
“I don’t think you’re following me.” She sighed. “If you were to read the inscriptions contained in that book, you might never be the same again.”
“Of course I would be the same. It’s only a book.”
“A book filled with secrets,
Lae.” Marac pointed at the ruby tome. “Secrets that could change the world, for better or, more likely, worse. Tavin taught you the secret to create magical weapons, and that could be profound enough to transform our whole society. Just imagine some of the things in there.”
Laedron licked his lips, then fiddled with the clasp. “I know. I can’t wait-”
“No, Lae,” Valyrie said.
“No? Why should the Uxidin be the only ones to have this knowledge? What merits them over anyone else to possess the power of this, The Bloodmyr Tome?”
“No one said they should have it. We’re merely saying that we should not.” Marac took hold of the book. “We’ll return it to Harridan, then be on our way. We could be home in a few weeks. A few short weeks, and we can put all of this behind us.”
Brice grabbed the tome and helped Marac tug. “Yes, we’ll put it behind us. We’ll forget all about it.”
“Can we?” Laedron asked, keeping a firm grasp on his end of the tome. “That may be so, but I intend to open this book, to learn of the magic on those pages, to know the secrets they’ve been hiding all this time.”
“If you do that, you won’t have me at your side.” Valyrie folded her arms, then stared at the ground, as if unable to look Laedron in his eyes. “I’d rather live with a man willing to accept that some things are beyond knowing than one who must know everything despite the damage it could cause. Your curiosity is clouding your better judgment.”
“You can’t tell me you’re not curious, Val. You wanted to learn magic. Now you would deny your desire to know more? And condemn mine?”
“That was different. Learning a few spells and a little about magic is nothing compared to what you intend to do here. If the stories are to be believed, that book contains awesome magic, spectacular feats of conjuration, some unseen since the very creation of the world. You propose to know those spells, and that would make you something else, something to be feared instead of loved.”
“You could not love me if I became a powerful sorcerer?”
“Not by that,” she said, gesturing at the ruby book. “Should you become powerful, it should be by long years of study and practice, not a few spare moments with the greatest of all spellbooks.”
“She’s right, Lae. If you open that book, you’ll start along a road I cannot follow.” Marac stood next to Valyrie, apparently resolute in his position. “You won’t be the same. You can’t be the same after that.”
“You shouldn’t. I’ll stand at your side in all things, but not on this.” Brice walked over to stand by Marac’s side.
“I think you three are taking this far beyond what it really is. Merely a glance, a tiny peek. Nothing more.”
“A glance is too much. Don’t you see?” Marac asked. “Knowing this thing exists in the first place is more than we should ever have known. The best thing we can do is deliver it, then forget we know anything about it.”
“This book scares you, doesn’t it?”
“You better well believe that it does.”
“What harm would a simple peek cause?”
“I’d rather not find out, Lae. I truly believe that it would be better if you didn’t, either.”
“Fine. You’re probably right. We’ll return it to Harridan and be done with this.”
“Wait,” Brice said. “Why must we bring it back at all?”
Laedron narrowed his eyes. “What are you suggesting?”
“I think I know what he’s suggesting.” Marac pointed at the tome. “He’s talking about smashing it. First reasonable thing he’s said all day.”
Laedron shook his head. “We can’t destroy it.”
“Can’t?”
“Mustn’t.” Laedron gazed at the tome. “We would be unable to fulfill our end of the bargain. We must return it to Harridan.”
“Must we? Could we not say that, in his rage, Kareth turned it to dust? Or it was broken in the fight to wrest it from his grasp?” Brice asked.
“You suggest lying to him? What is to be gained by that?”
Marac sighed. “Security for the rest of the living things in this world, Lae. The knowledge that the secrets written in those pages can never again be turned against the innocent. Using the spells in that book, Kareth created an army of crystal soldiers who can suck the very life from the living.”
“You don’t understand the Uxidin. They’ll protect it.”
“Protect it? As they did the first time it was stolen? If it were up to me, we’d destroy the thing here and now to ensure that no one could possess it. The mere existence of a thing like this troubles me.”
“I understand your concerns, but I don’t think they’ll let it happen a second time.”
“No? Think of what we’re talking about. What would some men pay-or do-to get a hold of such a thing? Everlasting life? Forging new lands in the middle of the ocean? Or worse, destruction on a scale we’ve never seen before? What would the Zyvdredi do with such a thing? Does that not bother you?”
“Of course it does, but-”
“And if Harridan ever decided to use it with ill intent, what would that mean for the rest of us? And for us who, here and now, have a chance to prevent that possibility? How would it weigh upon our minds, our souls, knowing that we gave it to him? Some things were never meant for the hands of men, Lae. I wish you could see that this Bloodmyr Tome is one of them.”
Laedron paced for a while, not knowing what to say or do. For some strange reason, perhaps out of a sense of loyalty or indebtedness to the Uxidin, he didn’t want to destroy the tome. Would Ismerelda want this? Would she have told me to return it to Harridan for her own sake, or would Marac’s words make an impact, causing her to smash the tome? It matters little.For she is dead, and the dead have little care as to whether the living join them.
“Well?”
“I’m thinking,” Laedron said, then recalled what Tavin had told him. ‘Doubt is the true mage killer, and even an Azuran teacher would have told you that. Give up your meaningless morals, for they do not apply here. Have you heard nothing that I’ve said? You blind yourself with a lie perpetrated to control you. Set yourself free.’ He stared at the ceiling. Right and wrong… meaningless morals. The lies meant to control us. Set myself free.
Valyrie came close and took his hand. “The Uxidin had their chance, and if they were to return and rebuild their empire, we would see more suffering than what the Drakkars would have caused. Let us be done with this. The Uxidin, the Zyvdredi, and the madness must all end.”
“They’ll die without it, Val. How can we return and tell them that we’ve not done what we promised them we would do?”
“There are things worse than dying. You and I both know that.” Her face shone with a broad smile. “Living in a hole in the ground isn’t living, Lae. They, like everyone else who has ever lived, will have to make a new life, adapt to the way things are, and move on.”
“All right,” Laedron said with a sigh, then glanced at Brice. He’s said nothing this entire time… no matter. He’s not said anything to the contrary, so I assume he’ll agree with whatever we do. “We seem to be at a consensus.”
“That ought to do the job.” Marac took the great axe from its rack. “Stand back.”
When Marac raised the axe above his head, Laedron waved his hand. “No, no, wait!”
Marac stayed his blow, the axe still suspended in the air. “What is it now?”
“We haven’t considered an important part of the problem. Put it down and hear me out.”
Marac lowered the blade. “Okay, what?”
Laedron asked, “What will they do without the spell?”
“They’ll eventually die of natural causes, I would imagine. Same as everything else.”
Laedron shook his head. “If you had something your whole life, something important to you, and you lost that thing, what would you do, Marac?”
“Learn to get along without it? I don’t follow.”
“Let’s say that you had a golden watch
from your youth and on into adulthood. Then, you lost that timepiece in a river and couldn’t find it again. What would likely be your next course of action?”
“Get another one?” Marac’s face contorted with confusion.
“Precisely.”
“I still don’t follow. What are you saying, Lae?” Valyrie asked.
“I’m saying that, without this spell to rejuvenate their bodies, to maintain their eternal lives, they might find other ways, whatever it takes, to replace what they’ve lost. They might fall into using the same methods as the Zyvdredi.”
Valyrie tilted her head. “They seemed to be rather strongly aligned against the way the Zyvdredi have done things. From what Harridan said, they abhorred the thought of stealing essences for their own uses.”
“An animal caged will do anything to escape.” Laedron crossed his arms. “With no other options available, the Uxidin might become what they hate if only to survive. Self-preservation is a strong instinct, after all, and we’re not speaking of people ignorant to the different ways by which they can avoid death. These people have lived with knowing that immortality can be achieved by magic for too long, I think, to simply give up on the idea.”
“If that’s the case, you recommend giving them the book? After all we’ve discussed?” Marac asked. “I thought you agreed that the artifact should be destroyed.”
“I do, but I think we should take those pages-the ones for their rejuvenation spell-and return them. The rest of it, we could-should-smash into a thousand pieces.”
Marac seemed to contemplate the choice. “Lae may be right. Harridan didn’t strike me as the type to just let go, and we cannot doubt his ruthlessness, considering that he was willing to sacrifice one of his own just to beat Kareth and get the tome back.”
“My thoughts exactly. Brice?” I wonder if he’s even been listening all this time.
“You’re probably right,” Brice said. “I felt a kind of desperation looking at those people hiding in the dark, a feeling like they’d do anything to get their lives back.”
Laedron turned to Valyrie. “You?”
The Immortals of Myrdwyer amob-3 Page 17
