Library of Absolution

by Jennifer Derrick

  Alarick was surprised when they walked past her house and into the forest beyond. He drew his wand, uncertain whether she was leading him into an ambush. They wound through the trees in seemingly aimless directions.

  "I never take the same path, to avoid wearing an obvious trail in the forest," she said as they doubled back on a path they'd already taken.

  Alarick said nothing. He was busy scanning the forest for threats, but his estimation of her intelligence climbed a few notches. Even some of his best scouts had difficulty with the concept of traveling different paths to avoid leaving a trail.

  They finally reached a large tree with a gnarled, aboveground root system. Each root was the size of an average man's thigh. Elissa stood in front of the tree and removed a small leather-bound book from her dress pocket. She opened it to a page near the middle and laid the book facedown so the pages straddled one of the roots. She drew her wand from her pocket and tapped the book's spine where it rested upon the root.

  "Resigno," she whispered.

  Alarick didn't see how this was going to accomplish anything, but he watched and waited. After a few moments, the roots began to shift and part, revealing a staircase carved into the dirt and leading under the tree.

  "How did you—" he started to ask.

  "That's my particular magic," she replied as they descended the steps. "My family wasn't strong, magically. We could all do little parlor tricks, as you'd probably call them. My mother could transfigure small things into other small things, and my father was a potions master. My brother was the best of us, but that wasn't saying much. He could cast some spells, but nothing grand enough to stave off the Ministry."

  Her voice trailed off and hitched. Alarick couldn't see her face, but he knew she was stifling tears. He couldn't afford to have her lose control. Not when they urgently needed to get her little library and return to the Keep before the Ministry returned.

  "To be fair, there aren't many wizards who can stand against them," Alarick offered. "And your magic is making hiding places out of trees?"

  "Not exactly. My brother helped me with this part, with a little help from our mother. My magic lies with books."

  "Books?"

  "Yes. I can enchant them so only certain people may read them. If someone other than the intended reader tries, the book will either refuse to open, ensnare them in its pages, or release something deadly to destroy them. I can tailor the level of protection to the book and its contents. I can also make the books themselves indestructible, immune to fire, water, and tearing. Only someone designated by me, either by name or by blood, can access the protected works or undo the enchantments."

  "That's not very useful magic," Alarick said.

  Elissa shrugged. They reached the bottom of the steps and the opening above them closed. Elissa flicked her wand at the ceiling and floating orbs appeared, lighting the room in a blue glow.

  "It is and it isn't," she said, answering Alarick. "Is it good in a fight? No. But it is useful for preserving books and keeping them out of the Ministry's hands."

  "What possible use is such a small talent in the middle of a war for our very survival?" Alarick asked.

  Elissa gestured and one of the orbs followed her hand around the room, illuminating the entire space. Seven wooden bookcases lined the room, each with seven shelves groaning under the weight of materials. Books, both large and small, were arranged neatly on every shelf, with unbound sheaves and scrolls of paper filling in every available space.

  Alarick strolled around the room, glancing at the book spines and flipping through some of the loose documents. Grimoires, potion recipes, histories of magic and magical villages, and biographies of famous witches and wizards were the primary offerings, although there were obscure texts, maps, and children's books, as well.

  "You can read these?" he asked.

  Elissa rolled her eyes. "Of course. My father taught me to read."

  "It's just that so few women can read, even witches. When the Ministry imposed the ban on women having books and access to education, literacy among females died off. Even literate parents don't educate their daughters for fear of reprisal. I've met maybe five women in my lifetime that can read. Your father must have been a brave man."

  Elissa turned away, but Alarick heard her sniffle and the catch in her voice when she said, "He was, sir."

  Sorry he'd brought it up and made her cry again, he turned back to the books.

  "These aren't all magical books," he said, after finding a volume of poetry and a collection about the rise and fall of the Roman Empire.

  "No," Elissa said. "I collect books by normal humans, as well."

  "What in heaven for?" Alarick asked. "Pardon me, Miss Stone, but I do not understand the importance of this… collection."

  "Then you're a blind fool, Master Brandon," she said. "It's not only us, in our persons and abilities, that the Ministry wants to eliminate. They want to eliminate anything we might leave behind for future generations. And they want to eliminate anything non-magical humans produce with which they do not agree. That includes books, art, music, history, and any other form of culture that does not align with their agenda.

  "Anything encouraging free thought, or which does not promote their god and their desire to control the citizenry absolutely, is subject to execution. Whether it is paper or person. I'm merely attempting to preserve some of it. Hopefully, somewhere in the future, the Ministry will be gone and there will be some who can use this knowledge to rebuild all that is lost."

  Alarick looked around the room. He could see something of her point. However, he still thought the preservation of books frivolous in the face of the genocide he witnessed nearly every day.

  "I think you're far too optimistic," Alarick said. "What's lost is lost forever. Are you aware just how few magical people survive? I am. Every day there are fewer of us. Your village is not the first I've seen destroyed. Your people are not the first I've seen murdered. We won't survive more than another year at the present rate. Books are not important in the face of those facts."

  "Then I'm sorry for you," she said. "Knowledge is never unimportant. If you won't allow me to bring them to the Keep, then I apologize, but I cannot go with you."

  Alarick rolled his eyes toward the sky and sighed.

  "I didn't say we couldn't get your books there. I only said it wasn't important. But if you want your library, I certainly cannot begrudge you the little space it would occupy in the castle. I'll have to shrink it down in order to carry it all. And the shelves must stay behind. Is that acceptable, Miss Stone?"

  She nodded. "More than."

  "Very well. Pile the books and documents in the center of the room."

  They worked together for a while, unloading shelves and creating seven toppling piles of books in the middle of the room. When it was all done, Alarick drew his ebony wand and prepared to cast a shrinking spell.

  "Wait," Elissa said, darting forward and grabbing one book off the top of the nearest pile.

  "Miss Stone, are you aware that jumping in front of a wizard who is about to cast is a great way to get yourself shrunken down to the size of a rat?"

  "I know," she said. "But if something goes wrong, I couldn't bear it if this book was lost."

  Alarick turned to look at the cover of the book she clutched in her hands. "Plato's Phaedo. Interesting choice. All about death and the afterlife, is it not?"

  She nodded. "My father gave it to me. He told me to think on Socrates' arguments for the existence of an afterlife. Perhaps it would be of some comfort should we all die at the hands of the Ministry."

  "Your father wasn't very cheerful, was he?"

  "On the contrary. I find the work to be extremely comforting. You may cast, now," she said, tucking the small book into her bodice.

  Alarick pointed his wand at the piles of books and said, "Reformidos." A blast of purple light shot from the wand and enveloped the texts in its glow. After a moment, the piles shrank until they were each no bigger t
han a small trunk.

  "I need some help. Go get the two men who came with me," Alarick said to Elissa.

  She raced up the stairs and, without a word, the ceiling opened at her approach. Alarick waited, looking at the piles of miniaturized books and wondering what he'd gotten himself into. Ah, well, he thought, if this library kept her busy and distracted while she harbored at the castle, it was likely for the best.

  She returned with the two wizards in tow.

  "We need to take these with us," Alarick told them, pointing to the piles. "Let's get them out of here and we can load them."

  Each man grabbed a pile and carted it up the stairs, doubling back occasionally to fetch a book or manuscript that slipped off the top.

  "Don't you have some sort of spell to bind them together?" Elissa asked Alarick after she chased down yet another piece of paper that had blown off a pile once they were outside in the open air.

  Alarick resented her snippy tone. As if he were simply a laborer and not the most powerful remaining wizard in England.

  "I do, but binding and shrinking often leads to damage. I thought you would prefer to avoid that. But if not," he brandished his wand.

  "No," she said, darting between him and the piles of books. "No. I didn't know. I apologize."

  "Fine." He turned to the two wizards. "Change and I'll load you both. Elissa, you'll have to load the last pile on me, so pay attention. Get it wrong and I'll get hurt."

  The two wizards each pulled a leather pouch from their coat pockets and tied it around their necks. Then they changed into their falcon forms. The pouches expanded, becoming proportionate to their new size. Each bird bowed low to the ground, and Alarick packed each pouch full of texts, careful to balance the load evenly while leaving himself an equal share.

  Alarick turned to Elissa. "Okay, Miss Stone. I'll change and you fill my pouch, then climb aboard. Make sure you spread the load evenly. Don't weight it too much to one side or the other." He pulled his pouch from his pocket and tied it around his neck as he spoke.

  "And how do I… ride you?" she asked. Alarick arched an eyebrow at her phrasing but didn't embarrass her by commenting on it further.

  "I'll drop a wing and you climb on. Carefully, please, Miss Stone. Don't tear my feathers. Get between my shoulders, just behind my neck. Use the strap from the pouch to hold on. I'll try to fly as slow and level as possible, but if we are attacked I may have to drop you suddenly. I'll try to be gentle, but it could be a rough landing," he said.

  "I'll just hope that doesn't happen."

  "Ready?" he asked, wand held ready for his own change.

  Elissa nodded.

  Alarick changed forms and Elissa gasped. Alarick turned his eye toward her and she reached out to touch his feathers. He tossed his head, reminding her to hurry. When he bowed close to the ground, she loaded his pouch, deliberately weighing each book in her hands to make sure she spread the load evenly. Alarick throttled his desire to poke her with his beak and hurry her along. He'd told her to be careful, after all.

  When she finished loading the books, he extended one wing out over the ground and dropped it, forming a ramp for her to climb onto his back. Once she was seated and had hold of the leather strap, he and the other two falcons flapped their wings and soared into the sky.

  Elissa screamed, once, and then quieted. She had quite a tight hold on the strap, though, and Alarick was grateful the Keep wasn't far. Otherwise, she'd probably strangle him before they arrived.

  They flew over the countryside, the other two falcons flanking and protecting their Master. Alarick paid no attention to the scenery below. He'd seen it all before, knew the location of every human settlement and sacked village. Instead he focused on keeping himself level to avoid shifting the load of books or dropping Elissa off his back. He rarely flew with passengers or cargo, and it took some concentration to do it well.

  When they reached the Keep, he glided over the forecourt a couple of times, analyzing the best way to land without unseating his passenger. He let the other two men land first, then followed them down. It was a struggle to keep himself level as he dropped, and he was tiring with the effort. As if it wasn't difficult enough, a sudden gust of wind threw him off even further.

  After an alarming drop to the left, Alarick pulled up, flapping his wings madly to slow his descent. His back was now nearly perpendicular to the ground and Elissa was hanging on for dear life. And then he felt her fall away. Abruptly freed from her weight and weighted from the front by the damn books, he slammed forward and crashed inelegantly into the ground.

  He lay there for a few minutes, too tired and winded to change back into a man. The other two wizards had already changed back and were running to tend Elissa. She was up, though, and running toward Alarick.

  "Are you okay?" she asked, crouching down near his head. "I could tell you weren't going to make it, so I dropped off. It wasn't far. I'm okay."

  Alarick finally managed to change back and released the heavy pouch before he sat up.

  "What did I tell you about keeping the load level?" he shouted. "You could have killed me falling off like that and leaving all the weight on my front."

  "I'm sorry," she began. "I forgot about the books."

  Alarick stood and brushed dust from his frock coat and adjusted his cravat so it was tight around his neck once again. Mortification morphed into anger. He towered over Elissa.

  "You forgot about the books? How is that possible? An hour ago, you were content to live in a village full of dead bodies if you couldn't bring those books here and now you forget?"

  He turned to the two wizards who remained in the courtyard, looking anywhere but at their Master shouting at the young woman.

  "You take her and her damn books to the vacant room in the south wing," he said, flicking his wand at the pouches on the ground. Instantly the books returned to their original size. "I have work to do."

  Alarick turned and stalked off toward the main doors of the Keep, leaving the three of them in the forecourt staring at seven piles of books and pondering the labor now required to haul them into the castle.

  2

  Alarick quickly forgot about Elissa and her books. She was merely another resident among a hundred or so who required care and protection. Alarick dedicated the rest of the afternoon to strengthening the protective wards that kept the Keep hidden from Ministry. They needed to be boosted once a month to ensure maximum effectiveness, and he was the only remaining wizard with the skill to do the job. Others could protect smaller things, but a castle occupying several acres was a difficult job.

  He wandered from corner to corner of the castle, inside and out, casting protection spells and charming the runes embedded in the stonework. He didn't mind the work. It was quiet and meditative, the spells so automatic now he no longer had to think about them. Those spells had been one of the first things Master Hale, founder of the Keep, had taught Alarick when he'd arrived. Magical people could see through the enchantments, but others could not. Normal humans only saw a barren piece of land with some rubble heaped upon it.

  The castle wasn't easy to access, even by magical people. It resided at the top of a small mountain called Dark Peak. Its rear bordered a rocky cliff that sported a full waterfall during the rainy season, or when there was significant snow melt. The land at the top of Dark Peak was barren and bleak, the weather often poor. Fog, mist, and snow frequently obscured the view, making it impossible to pick the castle out of the murk, even for those to whom it was visible. Still, were it not for the magical protections, someone would eventually stumble upon it. And so Alarick worked, alone, every month.

  That evening at dinner Alarick occupied the high table overlooking the dining hall where the residents gathered for meals. He'd long ago made it known that he didn't appreciate small talk while he was eating and preferred to be left alone. He could have eaten in his rooms, but dinner gave him a needed chance to monitor his charges and learn of their fortunes and troubles from a distance. No one da
red involve him in their dramas, so he simply observed without the added pressure of interaction.

  Tonight, he looked out over the hall and noticed that Miss Stone had made it to dinner. She was dining with a blonde witch and her husband. He was certain the witch's name was Candace, but of the husband's name he had no recollection. Well, good, he thought. Candace was sensible and reliable. She would see to Miss Stone's welfare and help her navigate life at the Keep. Idleness was not permitted, so Elissa would have to find some way to be of service. Candace could help with that.

  As Alarick was thinking about which jobs might suit her, Elissa looked up toward his table. She met his eyes and nodded once in greeting. He nodded back and quickly turned his attention to other diners.

  It appeared the rumors were true, and Mr. and Mrs. Abbott were indeed expecting a child. Alarick sighed. One of two things would happen, as they always did. He'd either have another mouth to provide for, or the Abbots would leave. The ones who had children often did. Devoid of color, playthings, or other young people, the Keep was no place for children. Those with children often left to take their chances in the world. Sadly, most of them didn't survive very long. No matter how hard a witch or wizard tried to conceal their true nature, sooner or later something odd occurred and the wrong people took notice.

  It wasn't his responsibility, he reminded himself. He provided safety, but forced no one to accept it.

  Alarick finished his chicken and rose from the table, nodding his thanks at the cook who hovered nearby. He was almost out of the dining hall when he turned back. The cook stiffened as he approached.

  "Was there a problem with the food, Master Brandon?" the cook inquired.

  "No. It was quite good. However, I wondered if you noticed our new arrival. Miss Stone?"

  "Yes, sir. I have not met her, but I saw Candace giving her the tour earlier."

  "She'll need a job. Do you need help in the kitchens?" Alarick asked.

  "Always, sir. It's a struggle to find people who can cook."

  "You might see if she possesses any culinary talents."