by Mel Odom
“You have sent me a very interesting, if abbreviated library, my boy.”
“They arrived?” Baylee asked as the acolyte dropped his arm across the back of the ranger’s shoulders and guided him up the carved stone stairway that curled up around the uneven face of the crag to the citadel that waited on top.
“Oh yes, they arrived.” Innesdav laughed. “I must admit to some frantic consternation when gallons of seawater seemed to be pouring into that old closet we set up to receive your journals. For the first few moments, I thought you’d been drowned somewhere and this was going to be the first notice I received of it.”
“I’m sorry,” Baylee said. “I couldn’t tell if any water was going through with the books.”
“Yes, and plenty of it. I mopped for hours. After I looked at those books, of course.” Innesdav held up a hand and Xuxa flew down and grabbed the little finger of his hand. “Ah, Xuxa, and how have you been?”
Running for our lives, up against foes that we have not yet named, the azmyth bat replied, pursued and harried by the Waterdhavian Watch, and chasing after what could potentially be one of the greatest finds ever made.
“That,” Innesdav said, “sounds almost like the accounting you gave me the last time you came here.”
Xuxa chirped in amused agreement
Baylee reflected on that event, trying to place the time in his mind. “That was when we found Tchazzar’s scroll, which outlined how the smaller kingdoms of Chessenta united and what the trade agreements were supposed to be.”
“Exactly,” Innesdav nodded. “That scroll was supposed to have been writ in the blood of the men who agreed to it. And the man who could produce it would have controlled the lineage of those kingdoms and possibly been able to step into a ready-made country ripe for the taking. If the person seizing the scroll was a good enough mage.”
Baylee nodded. The story had been told for decades since the fall of unified Chessenta. But Golsway had uncovered new knowledge that had led them on a merry chase to the scroll they recovered. It now resided in Candlekeep for security reasons. There were some who said that the ghosts of the men who’d signed the document could be summoned back from the beyond to wreak vengeance on the men who’d sundered the realm they’d put together.
“Did you ever discover if the scroll Golsway and I found was truly the Tchazzar Scroll?” the ranger asked.
“We checked as much as we were able. It certainly looks like it. But there is only one sure way to tell, and no one here is going to allow that to happen.”
They met in one of the many outbuildings that were as close to Candlekeep as any outsider was ever allowed. A terraced rock garden surrounded the building, dotted with numerous trees and stone benches. Natural springs ran through the rocks and across the landscaped areas.
Baylee felt at home there, relaxed in spite of the last few days and what still lay ahead, almost at peace because of the security he felt there. He sat across from Innesdav and beside Cordyan, too aware of her and too aware also that she was female.
Calebaan and Cthulad sat on another bench, the latter puffing contentedly on a pipe.
You should have been thinking more along those lines on the voyage to Candlekeep, Xuxa said.
Quiet, Baylee admonished. The junior civilar shifted beside him, and he wondered if the azmyth bat had included Cordyan in their silent communication.
“You were right about the logbook,” Innesdav said. “It does contain maps of Glitterwing’s library.”
Baylee’s attention centered immediately on the acolyte’s words. “In Myth Drannor?”
“Not in Myth Drannor proper,” Innesdav went on. “In a forest north of Mistledale. You are familiar with Mistledale?”
“That is a big forest,” Baylee said.
“It is actually nearer the Standing Stone than it is Mistledale, I believe.”
Baylee shook his head, thinking through the logistics of such an expedition. “If the library is underground, it could take years to find it. Surely there’s a way to cut the search down. Have you read the logbook?”
“We’re working on it,” Innesdav said. “We believe the written language Skyreach chose was deliberately obscure. You have to remember, her grandfather schooled her.”
“I didn’t know,” Baylee said. “I know very little of her.”
“Well,” the acolyte went on, “let me say that in the matter of his granddaughter, the apple fell not far from the tree. She was every bit as bright, every bit as driven, as her grandfather.”
“What language is it?” Calebaan asked. “I’m quite good at languages myself.”
“This one is long dead,” Innesdav replied. “And to make matters even more complicated, Skyreach evidently created a code all her own as well with it.”
Calebaan nodded. “Then I shall wish your people well with it.”
“There is something else,” Innesdav went on. “Here in Candlekeep, we have the means to open a dimensional door to the woods near Mistledale where you can find the library.” He focused his gaze on Baylee. “I have talked to Ulraunt about the possibility of sending you there. But it would be on the behest of Candlekeep, and anything you may find would become the property of Candlekeep.”
Baylee thought about the offer. He’d known when sending the books through to Innesdav that Ulraunt, the Keeper of the Tomes, would demand an entrance to the bounty that might be forthcoming. “Would I be given an opportunity to study whatever we find at a later time?”
Innesdav spread his hand. “Of course. Since I’ve known you, you’ve had an eternal invitation to this place. Should you succeed in finding this lost library, you could stay here the rest of your life studying if you chose.”
Most people, Baylee knew, didn’t get to stay at Candlekeep for more than ten days.
“It is a generous offer,” Innesdav said.
And more than that, Xuxa said. If you found this library and it is as big as you say it is, where else would be better to keep it than here?
“Wait,” Cordyan said, letting Baylee know the azmyth bat had projected her thoughts to everyone there, “what of Waterdeep? I represent some strong interests in these issues.”
“The Lords of Waterdeep, you mean?” Innesdav asked. His quiet voice seemed barely louder than the bubbling of the streams.
“I mean Lord Piergeiron in particular,” the civilar said. “He personally funded the ship and the men who have chased after Baylee Arnvold. If it had not been for us—”
“Young Baylee had already sent the book to us,” the acolyte pointed out. “And I don’t think you can truthfully say you saved his life in the Sea of Swords. It seems to me he’d already saved himself.”
“The monk does have a point,” Calebaan said.
“I can take this group of men with him,” Cordyan said. “Lord Piergeiron granted me leave to do as I saw fit. If you send Baylee into that library area without adequate manpower, you may very well never see him again.”
Innesdav regarded her with a twisted smile that Baylee remembered all too well. “Child, every time Baylee leaves these towers, I know that could be true. Yet, could I protect him from all the wonders he would seek out in Faerûn?”
“You’re talking of sending him straight into the arms of this one,” Cordyan said.
Baylee felt agitated as the two discussed him as if he wasn’t there. “Wait a minute. This is my decision to make. If I want to go, I’ll go, and it’ll be on my own terms.” He faced Innesdav. “Tell Ulraunt that his terms are acceptable.”
Cordyan turned to face him. “You’d stupidly throw your life away? Just like that?”
Baylee didn’t know what to say. He wanted to be angry at her, but at the same time he was afraid to be too angry because it would make things between them even more strained.
“If that’s true, Baylee Arnvold, you are not half the man I thought you were.” Cordyan turned from him.
Confusion ran rampant in the ranger. He wanted to fight, to change her opinion, but he w
asn’t really sure where to begin, or that it would even make a difference.
“Actually,” Innesdav said, “we were hoping you might offer assistance, Junior Civilar Cordyan. In return, we would be willing to grant Lord Piergeiron certain liberties within the towers of Candlekeep as well.”
Baylee wheeled on the old monk. “What does she know about archeological digs? If you send her on this trip, she and her men could well destroy much of what you seek to save.”
“Dear boy,” the old acolyte said, “that is the chance we must take. There are many risks here. Even more than you might imagine.” He stood. “Come, let us take our eveningfeast inside and talk further.”
Baylee picked at his food despite the fact that the monks of Candlekeep set a good table. And they had excellent silverware. He sat in his chair and barely managed to restrain himself from pacing. He thought better when he moved.
They sat in one of the many dining rooms in an outbuilding maintained around the towers where guests from outside Candlekeep were allowed. Monks waited on them, bringing great trays of food to feed the armed men and sailors. The men of the watch and the crew of Tsunami Dancer hadn’t been allowed into the libraries, but the monks wouldn’t turn them away from the tables.
Xuxa’s shadows as she hung from the candelabra above the table fluttered in all directions. She has men who can help, the azmyth bat said, continuing the argument they’d been having for the past hour.
Amateurs.
Not when it comes to fighting. Lord Piergeiron wouldn’t send green warriors after you knowing how fierce the opponents were that you faced.
Baylee gazed into the great fireplace on the wall behind him. He wished he didn’t feel so confused about the issue of Cordyan’s involvement. But during the voyage to Candlekeep from Mintarn, he’d enjoyed her company, enjoyed the sound of her laughter.
The silence in his head when Xuxa didn’t jump in with a comment was deafening.
A monk came to Innesdav and whispered in his ear. The old man smiled and tapped his water glass with his spoon, drawing the attention of everyone at the table. “It has just been confirmed. Lord Piergeiron has agreed to our terms. In the morning, we will send all of you through to begin your journey.”
The men of the watch cheered.
Baylee figured they were only excited by the prospect of the odd gold coin tumbling into their pockets when no one was looking. They wouldn’t even understand the intrinsic historical significance of the coins. They would be spent for ale that wouldn’t stay in their bladders till morning.
The thought was almost enough to turn Baylee’s stomach.
“I know you don’t fully appreciate everything that’s going on here.”
Baylee looked at Innesdav as the old monk guided him through the labyrinthine hallways of the Candlekeep outbuilding. “They’re an army, not a trained, expedition-ready staff.”
“And an expedition party isn’t equipped mentally or physically to do battle the way these people are,” Innesdav said. He held a lantern ahead of them, chipping away at the shadows that filled the hallway. “What you trade off of one, you more than gain on another.” He found Baylee’s room and shoved the door open.
The room was a small square, nearly filled by the bed and the reading table near the window overlooking one of the inner courtyards. Xuxa leaped from the staff that Innesdav carried the lantern on and flew ahead into the room.
“But you could send me first,” Baylee protested. “After I’ve had a look, if necessary, the Waterdhavian Watch unit could be sent through.”
“Had not Golsway himself been killed by whatever forces guard the library, I would have recommended just that,” Innesdav said. “But the fact remains that I lost a dear and true friend. I do not want to lose two such friends.”
“There is no arguing?” Baylee persisted. “I could be sent through tonight, perhaps even be back before morning.”
Innesdav shook his head. Then he swept an arm toward the interior of the room. “I have laid aside some of your favorite books, and a selection of ones that I thought you might find interesting.” The old monk indicated the pile of books on the reading table. He touched the lantern to the candles on the table, lighting them. Wards protected Candlekeep from ever burning down despite the torches, lanterns, and candles that seemed to burn in every room.
“Thank you,” Baylee said.
“But those are intended only if you find you can’t sleep,” Innesdav warned. “Sleeping tonight is probably the best thing you can do.”
Baylee ignored the advice. His senses thrummed inside him, threatening to explode out of his skin. He walked to the open window and peered out. The full moon hung high in the sable night.
Glancing down and to the right, he saw Cordyan Tsald walk past a window. He only caught a glimpse of a diaphanous nightgown over smooth, curved flesh. Then the shade was pulled, leaving only an interesting shadow limned against the material.
“If there is anything else you require?” Innesdav asked.
“No.” Baylee turned around and faced his old friend. “No, thank you. You’ve been more than generous, as always.”
Innesdav stood there in the doorway, the lantern hanging from the end of his staff. “I care about you, Baylee, and I don’t want to see that love of adventure and exploration that Golsway instilled in you get you killed. You rush in where most others would hesitate. That courage has served you in the past, but don’t be drawn to this prize only to find that the only thing you’ve discovered is your own doom.”
“I’ve not found anything yet that I couldn’t walk away from.”
Innesdav was silent for a time. “Success, young warrior, that’s one thing you’ve never walked away from. And it is hard for most men.”
“Why would you want to?” Baylee asked.
“The answer to that,” the monk said, “lies within yourself.”
“Is that a quote?”
“No,” Innesdav said in a quiet voice, “that is a fact of life. I bid you good night.”
Baylee said good night as well, then went back to staring out the window, waiting for the morning.
Innesdav was right, Xuxa said. You should sleep.
I can’t.
You’re more disciplined than that, Baylee.
This is it, Xuxa. Can’t you feel that?
Yes. But it makes me afraid at the same time. The azmyth bat dropped from her perch and flapped over to the ranger. She landed heavily on his shoulders, then stretched out a wing to touch his cheek lightly.
Everything is going to be all right, he told her. And he hoped it was true.
24
“Wait till after my signal, then begin riding through.”
Baylee sat astride a horse lent to him from the stable of Candlekeep. The rest of the unit was similarly equipped. He wore a chain mail shirt in deference to the danger they could possibly face in a short time, hating it for its restriction on his movements and its likelihood of making more noise than he wanted to.
Civva Cthulad wore a full suit of elven chain mail that burned bright in the morning sun. He carried his helm under his arm for the moment.
Cordyan Tsald and her men of the watch wore chain mail armor as well, but their tabards carried the Waterdhavian crests. They looked like an army, forty men strong, counting the recruits they’d picked up from among the crew of Tsunami Dancer. Some of the sailors wanted to try their hands at finding the library as well.
The monks of Candlekeep lined up on either side of the adventuring party. The robes ranged from mauve to black, and the faces betrayed their own excitement.
Baylee shifted his attention back to the Candlekeep wizard at the head of the party. The man walked carefully among the inscribed designs on the flagstones along the outer edge of the cliff overhanging the harbor letting out to the Sea of Swords. He inspected each drawing, apparently satisfied with them all.
Innesdav stood beside Baylee, one hand on the ranger’s knee. “If you have any concerns,” the old monk sai
d, “now would be the time to voice them. Brother Darhakk’s dimensional door will not settle properly over land.”
“As long as it’ll get us where we’re going,” Baylee said, “what more could we ask for?”
Brother Darhakk finished the last of his inspection and turned to face the assembled riders. “If the necessary alignments for such a long portage were more favorable, I could place the dimensional door wherever I wanted. This morning, at this time, the door you see before you is the only one that is possible to get you where you are going. Even so, I will not be able to keep it open long.”
Cordyan shifted in her saddle, turning back to face all of the assembled men. “If there are any of you who do not want to ride over this cliff into that dimensional door, bow out gracefully now. For if you don’t, and your cowardice later causes the death of anyone else, rest assured that I will hold you accountable.”
No one moved.
“You have my talisman?” Innesdav asked.
Baylee touched the obsidian triangle on the leather thong around his neck.
“Good,” the monk said. “With the scrying crystal I have access to, I should be able to see you at least part of the way of your journey.” He reached up and clasped hands with the ranger.
Baylee felt the back of his throat grow tight. But the excitement kept the fires blazing in his stomach, feeding off the nervous energy filling his mount. “Keep a stew pot on, old friend. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Brother Darhakk called for their attention. Innesdav stepped away. Darhakk began chanting in a loud voice.
Attuned to the magic assembling around them, Baylee felt the strength of the spell as it built. Then the sky over the edge of the cliff turned a virulent shade of green.
