Chapter 16: Sixteen: Research

The library was an eerie place after dark. The last of the patrons had left hours ago, and the orb was now dark. The only illumination came from whatever moonlight filtered in through the windows. Sarah leaned against the balcony railing and sighed as she looked out over the darkened atrium.

“Of all the knowledge in this place, you have to be stuck reading… that…” she sighed as she brushed a strand of hair off her face.

“You sound like you could use a breath of fresh air.”

Sarah felt the air stir, and moments later Lucy floated up from the atrium and over the railing. She squinted at Sarah through her thick glasses for a moment and shook her head.

“Treto, cast Thy light and banish this darkness,” she said, holding out her hand. An orb of light began to glow softly as it hovered just above her palm. “There, she said, it’s better to discuss the things you were reading in the light, isn’t it?”

Sarah nodded. The light did make her feel better after spending the previous day and all of today reading about the horrors people did in the Night Goddess’ name.

“Can you use every school of magic?” Sarah asked.

“Our library possesses an extensive collection of books on the magical arts,” Lucy replied, looking around, “and when you’ve spent as much time reading those books as I have, you tend to pick up a few things.”

“Is it really that easy?” Sarah asked, feeling a twinge of envy, “I’ve read a few guides on using the Night Goddess’ magic, like that mind wipe spell you cast on those White Cloaks, and I just couldn’t do it.”

The old halfling nodded sympathetically, “As a scholar of magic, I can understand your frustration. You are Chosen by Agni, and the other gods will not lend you their power.”

She paused to look out at her domain in silence for a few minutes before taking a deep breath. “How is your research coming along?”

Sarah managed a wry chuckle. “I have learned some depraved things today but am no closer to figuring out how these cultists plan to elevate their goddess to the Pantheon.”

“Udoriol tells me you found another library with books similar to the ones downstairs,” Lucy ventured.

“Yes, but I’m afraid I set fire to it accidentally. Nothing remains of that place.”

The old halfling frowned. “And it was in Drane’s Crook?”

Sarah nodded.

“It must have been a private collection,” Lucy mused, “how did the cultists get wind of it being there? And your Roldo… Perhaps the answer lies there.”

“Unfortunately Roldo never told us, and he’s miles away in Woodhop,” Sarah sighed.

The halfling tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Roldo Roldo Roldo,” she muttered to herself and shook her head, “no, I can’t say I’ve heard of a Roldo.”

Sarah nodded and studied the old halfling. “Are you really over six hundred years old?”

Lucy nodded, “I’m almost seven hundred, I think. I’ve long since stopped counting.”

“How?” Sarah blurted.

The old halfling touched the side of her nose and smiled coyly, “Now now, it’s not polite to discuss a lady’s age.”

Sarah looked at her and bit her lip, deciding to let the matter rest. Everyone had their secrets. She understood that all too well.

“Say, have you heard of Ratri’s Chosen?” Sarah asked.

Lucy shook her head. “There are books about her worshippers up here. Worship of Ratri isn’t taboo, per se, but I’ve never heard of the Night Goddess having a Chosen.”

“Is that unusual? Do the other minor gods not have Chosen?” Sarah asked.

Lucy shrugged. “There are so very many of them… but I suppose they do… at least all the ones I can think of.”

“If you’re looking to distract yourself from the horrors below, books on the history of the worship of minor gods can be found in the west wing,” she continued, “on the far end of the top floor.”

Sarah stifled a yawn and looked up at the skylight.

“Oh, you have at least six hours until the library reopens,” Lucy smiled, “besides, not many people go up there. You should be alright on your own.”

“Are there any lights up there?” Sarah ventured hopefully.

Lucy took a nearby lantern and placed the orb of light inside. “This should last you until dawn, however, I’d keep it away from the windows. I don’t want people outside thinking there are ghosts haunting the library after dark.”

Sarah took the lantern and hesitated.

 “Don’t worry, I was just about to go down to visit the others,” she smiled, “I’ll let them know where you are.”

“Thank you.”

Sarah walked past shelves full of books, stealing a glance at the titles as she went, hoping that she would one day have the time to come here for at least a month and just explore the books. She tried to push aside the feeling of impending doom that she had felt since they started their research in the secret library downstairs. She could understand John’s desire to flee, but as one of the few people who knew what was going on, she felt the responsibility to stay.

Was it their responsibility? John had asked her when she pulled her aside in the library downstairs. They had already informed the Church. If they couldn’t handle this, who else could? Certainly not them. That had turned into a full blown row that had ended badly and was part of the reason Sarah had decided to come up to get some air.

Soon, she found herself in the section Lucy had described. The shelves here were only half full, and she quickly found a large leather bound tome titled, “The History of the Night Goddess.”

She pulled it off the shelf and staggered under its weight. With considerable effort, she managed to wrestle it over to a table that was well away from the windows. She flipped the book open and checked when the book had been published. She sighed. It was over a century old and any information on the Chosen was sure to be out of date. Still, she turned the page over and began to skim through the book’s contents.

“The Goddess of Night was said to be one of the first of the gods in Sera Thun,” Sarah grunted. This book was probably written by one of her worshippers who was twisting the truth. She continued reading, “Her first were rumoured to be the Drow.”

“Drow?” She said out loud, “What’s a Drow?”

Frowning, she continued skimming until she came to a section about the first Chosen. “Also a Drow,” she grunted, “but what on earth is that?”

She made a mental note to ask Lucy about it later. It was probably chasing a myth, but it was the only clue she had. She flipped through the book in search of further mentions of the Drow but found nothing. The next worshippers were said to be ghosts who lingered in this realm. As the Night Goddess’ powers grew, She gave Her power to restless spirits, which gave birth to the creatures of undeath; wraiths, liches, vampires…

Sarah blinked and shook her head. It sounded like the monsters that parents concocted to keep children indoors at night were all worshippers of the Night Goddess. She decided to flip through the book to discover more clues about Ratri’s Chosen but could find no further mention of any until she reached the last page.

“When Ratri’s Chosen reigns supreme, the Night Goddess will take Her place on the throne of the Pantheon at long last,” she read out loud. A shiver went down her spine.

“That sounds ominous,” came a voice from down the hall.

She gasped and leapt to her feet to see John walking toward her.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “Grimald sent me to fetch you.”

Sarah frowned. “Has he found something?”

John shook his head and looked at the window. Sarah followed his gaze and saw the first rays of the sun creeping over the tops of buildings. “It’s almost dawn, the library will be open soon.”

“Lucy said I could spend the day up here if I wanted to,” Sarah said, not quite ready to return to the basement.

“Did you want some more time alone?” John asked.

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Sarah took a moment to think it over and shook her head. “No, there’s something I need to ask Udoriol.”

John’s eyes widened. “What is it? Did you find something?”

“I don’t know,” she said, sounding distant.

“Listen, I’m sorry for losing my temper,” John said, putting his hand on her shoulder, “I’m just… worried about us. Something awful is going to happen in this city and all the gold in the world won’t do us any good if we end up dead.”

“I know,” Sarah nodded. “I know. Just six more days. We are on the verge of uncovering their plot.”

“And then what?” John asked bitterly. “Do we march up to the leaders of this cult and fight them? Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah admitted, “still, I don’t feel like I can walk away from this. Not yet.”

She looked John in the eyes and saw that he was doing his best to keep his frustration bottled up. “Why don’t we stay with our original promise? When Grimald walks, so do we. That way, at least we can get paid for everything we’ve been through.”

John tightened his jaw, but Sarah’s gaze did not waver as she let her determination show. At length, his shoulders slumped. “Fine,” he conceded.

Sarah leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said, flashing her best smile. “Oh, and could you help me carry that book down?”

John looked at the massive tome and his face fell. “Is it really that important?”

“Oh yes, it is,” she beamed and kissed him on the cheek again, “Come on, you’re a strong young man, what’s that little book to you?”

John tried to look cross but couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from curling into a smile even though he knew he was being manipulated.

“My strong and handsome man,” she teased as they walked together down the hall.

As they walked down the grand staircase, the first of the day’s patrons were beginning to filter in. Waiting at the bottom of the stairs was Hicham, who broke into a broad smile as he met eyes with Sarah.

“Good morning, lady,” he said, bowing low, “I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to see you so early in the day.”

“What are you doing here?” John demanded coldly.

Hicham ignored him and kept his gaze fixed firmly on Sarah, who offered a weak smile. “I don’t see your minders. Are you here alone?”

“Indeed I am,” Hicham beamed, “I managed to give them the slip at the Royal Pantechnicon.”

“What’s a Pantechnicon?” John asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Hicham scoffed, as though he couldn’t believe he was being asked such a mundane question. Sarah also looked at the dark skinned young man expectantly, pretending she didn’t know what it meant.

“The Royal Pantechnicon is the name of the largest art bazaar in Corrington,” he sighed. “It is derived from the words pan, meaning all, and the old Mithian word teknikon, meaning art.”

“What a dramatic name for something so mundane,” John scoffed. “Why not just call it an art bazaar?”

Hicham’s face contorted into one of outrage, and Sarah decided that she’d had enough. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

“Isn’t it enough for me to want to gaze upon your beauty?” Hicham offered with a brilliant smile that showed off his teeth.

“No,” Sarah replied bluntly.

The white cloaked man glared at John as he guffawed, and Sarah repeated her question, “Why are you here?”

Hicham sighed and looked at the ceiling for a moment. His smile returned quickly as he returned his gaze to Sarah. “It so happens that I’ve arranged a meeting with the Marquis, Kurt Vinelder.”

Sarah’s eyes widened in surprise. “Isn’t he the lord of the city?”

“And the surrounding lands,” Hicham said. He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, “It so happens that I have quite the rapport with him.”

“You’ve done well,” Sarah remarked approvingly.

“I know,” Hicham said as he shot John a triumphant smirk, “but it does please me to hear you say it.”

The dark skinned young man opened up his arms to receive a hug, but Sarah walked straight past him.

“You are such a spanner,” John said, shaking his head. He intentionally bumped Hicham as he followed Sarah past him.

“What, is that supposed to be a Mithian insult?” Hicham demanded as he spun on his heel and stalked after them.

“It’s not a very good one if it is,” Hicham continued as he chased after them. “Spanners are useful tools. It just seems strange to call somebody one as an insult.”

They ignored him as John unlocked the door to the employee’s only area. They slipped inside and were soon in the warehouse where they found the hidden door to the reading room open. Udoriol was in the doorway looking pensively out at the warehouse. His eyes lit up when he saw Hicham.

“Ah, you’re back,” he beamed as he grabbed the youth by the shoulders and studied him, “you really have grown into a strapping young lad. It’s remarkable how quickly your kind grow up.”

“My, where was this bubbly attitude two days ago?” John asked, stunned.

“Well, I didn’t want to embarrass the lad in front of his bodyguards,” the elf beamed as he ruffled Hicham’s hair.

“Oi,” Hicham yelped as he brushed Udoriol’s hand away. “Stop that!”

He smoothed his hair back frantically and scowled. “I spent a lot of time on that this morning.”

“I’m sure you did,” the elf grinned, “so, what brings you here today? The spring in your step tells me you bear good news. Did you manage to catch any of the priests?”

“No, they seem to have vanished from the city since the sewer caved in. No one’s seen any trace of them since,” Hicham said. “But I have managed to arrange a meeting with the Marquis.”

“Well done lad!” Udoriol laughed as he clapped the white cloaked young man on the shoulder and winced as his hand struck the steel armour that protected it.

“Did you hear that?” the elf called over his shoulder, “My former student’s got us a meeting with the second most important man in the kingdom!”

“Keep it down, would you?” Grimald sounded groggy as he staggered out of the room. “I’d just nodded off.”

“I have carriages waiting outside to take you to him,” Hicham announced, puffing his chest out with pride.

“Capital, capital,” Udoriol grinned as he placed his arm around Hicham’s shoulder and led him back up into the library, “we can ride together and catch up!”

“No, I was going to ride in one of the carriages with…” Hicham began as he looked at Sarah.

“It really is amazing how quickly you humans grow up,” Udoriol continued, not listening. “Why in the blink of an eye, you’ve gone from crying over wetting your pants to rubbing shoulders with high nobility!”

“Master, please!” Hicham cried, aghast.

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