“The scroll could certainly be fraudulent,” Bactrus told Jason. “Swindlers have created many false trails to the last abode of Darian the Seer. In bygone days, certain adventurers would pay handsomely for clues to unearthing the fabled treasure.”
Farfalee raised a finger. “The scroll could be neither prophecy nor fraudulence. Some clever soul might have translated a sensitive message into Petruscan in order to conceal it.”
“Is that possible?” Jason asked Bactrus.
The old guide scrunched his face in thought. “Perhaps even probable.”
“Can you guide us to the scroll?” Jason asked.
“It would be my privilege,” Bactrus replied.
Jason looked around. Drake, Jasher, and Farfalee had already returned their stones to the counter. Nia had exchanged hers to reanimate Tibrus.
“Nia,” Jason scolded lightly, “what’s with the soldier? Didn’t Tibrus already tell us he isn’t big on history?”
“I know,” Nia replied. “But he isn’t too proud to use common speech. My other guide insulted me. It looks like you four have this search for Darian well in hand, so I thought I might do some other research.”
Jason glanced from Nia to the strapping warrior. “I’m not sure it could ever work out between you two.”
“You deserve someone more substantial,” Drake added with a smirk.
“At least tangible,” Jason said.
Nia gave an exasperated sigh. “I really need his expertise. It’s only a coincidence that he’s attractive.”
“Are you serious?” Jasher asked.
“Absolutely,” Nia responded.
“Very well,” Farfalee said. “The rest of us will accompany Jason and Bactrus.”
Jason wagged a playful finger at Nia. “We had better not catch you in the poetry section.”
Drake turned away, a hand over his mouth. Jasher developed a sudden cough.
Nia put a hand on her hip and cocked her head. “Very mature, Jason. It’s important research. You’ll see.”
“What research?” Jason pressed. “You could be more specific.”
“You’re right. I could. But maybe I don’t think you deserve to know.”
“No hint?” Jason asked. “Not even a category?”
“You’ll find out later,” Nia replied.
“Tragic romances,” Drake deadpanned.
Everyone laughed besides Nia and the guides.
* * *
Even with a guide escorting them along the quickest route, it was a long hike to the scroll. The Celestine Library went on and on, room after room, level upon level. They passed numerous stairways and branching corridors. In some of the larger chambers, bookshelves towered like cliffs, accessible only by systems of ladders and platforms. Aside from endless texts, the group passed masterful paintings and murals, meticulous mosaics, exquisitely detailed sculptures, mounted weapons of the finest craftsmanship, and tempting displays of priceless jeweled artifacts. Since the library was abandoned, Jason supposed he would be justified in salvaging some of the costly relics. Without the warning from Farfalee about Edomic traps, he would have paused to fill his pockets on more than one occasion.
Bactrus walked beside Jason the entire way. Despite his holographic appearance and the fact that his footsteps made no sound, the guide moved around as if he were subject to the laws of gravity.
“We’re in the middle of a desperate war,” Jason mentioned to Bactrus as they mounted a broad stairway. “Are there any weapons here at the library that we could borrow for the cause?” He tried to act casual, even though he had spent some time deciding how best to phrase the question.
“Most of the weapons and armor you see on display are priceless pieces of our permanent collection,” Bactrus replied. “We did not even lend our books out to the wisest of wizards, let alone any of the artifacts housed here. I am afraid the armaments must remain.”
“That’s what I expected,” Jason said.
“You could always try the cloakroom,” Bactrus mused. “Visitors left their weapons and armor there. The policy was mandatory. Anything remaining will never be claimed and does not belong to the library.”
“Worth a look,” Drake said. “Nearly anyone with the funding or initiative to come here would have been well equipped.”
“Although they probably would have retrieved their gear when they tried to flee,” Farfalee speculated. “Also, some who fled might have claimed the equipment of others. But still, I agree, worth a look.”
“You might also inspect the antiquities shop,” Bactrus said. “The inventory is not technically part of the collection, since it was for sale. The exorbitant prices were meant to raise funds. But with no shopkeeper present to manage the inventory, any remaining items could reasonably be considered abandoned and available.”
“Thanks for the tips,” Jason said.
“I like how this guide thinks,” Drake confided to Jasher.
In a distant wing of the library, at the end of a hall several stories above ground level, Bactrus stopped before a hefty door. “This section is restricted access,” the guide explained. “Loaned texts in extinct languages. Much of the material here came from the same repository as the scroll you seek. More than half the content cannot be deciphered by any of our guides.” He indicated a round depression in the center of the door. “Place your stone into the recess.”
Jason pressed his stone into the depression. It fit perfectly. The stone glowed momentarily, tumblers rattled, and the door swung smoothly open. Jason kept the stone in his hand.
The room beyond was not large, but contained many shelves and cubbies. The few books on display were primitively bound. Metal plates, clay tablets, and tightly wound scrolls were much more prevalent.
Bactrus led them to a bulky cabinet full of small, square drawers. He indicated a particular one. Pulling it open, Jason found that the long drawer contained a scroll.
Farfalee removed the scroll, unrolling it carefully. Nearly a yard long, the yellowed document contained row after row of tidy, unrecognizable characters. Farfalee started at the top, squinting at the words. Her lips bent into a smile.
“It purports to describe a route to the last abode of Darian the Seer,” she announced. “According to this document, our road will take us . . . through the Fuming Waste and into the mountains beyond.”
“Dangerous country,” Jasher said.
“But not particularly distant,” Drake noted.