(Those of you in the Hushlands, I dare you to work that last sentence into a conversation. “By the way, Sally, did you know that getting cut off from the knights’ magic rock also requires a period of exile from their giant glass mushroom?”)
A dragon crawled along the sides of the castles above me, growling quietly to itself. The Royal Archives (not a library) looked a lot like a building out of Greek history, with its magnificent white pillars and marble steps. The only difference was that it had castle towers. In Nalhalla, everything has castle towers. Even the outhouses. (You know, in case someone tries to seize the throne.)
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been here,” Sing said, happily waddling beside me. It was good to spend time with the pleasant anthropologist again.
“You’ve been here before?” I asked.
Sing nodded. “During my undergraduate days, I had to do research on ancient weapons. This place has books you can’t find anywhere else. I’m actually a little sad to be back.”
“This place is that bad?” I asked as we entered the cavernous main room of the Royal Archives. I didn’t see any books—it looked mostly empty.
“This place?” Sing asked. “Oh, I didn’t mean the Royal Archives, which is not a library. I was talking about Nalhalla. I didn’t get to do as much research in the Hushlands as I wanted! I was deeply engaged in a study on Hushlander transportation when your grandfather got me and we started our infiltration.”
“It’s really not that interesting there,” I said.
“You just say that because you’re accustomed to it!” Sing said. “Each day, something new and exciting happened! Right before we left, I finally managed to meet a real cabdriver! I had him drive me around the block, and while I was disappointed that we didn’t get into a car wreck, I’m sure after a few more days I could have experienced one.”
“Those are kind of dangerous, Sing.”
“Oh, I was ready for danger,” he said. “I made sure to wear safety goggles!”
I sighed, but made no other comment. Trying to curb Sing’s love of the Hushlands was like … well, like kicking a puppy. A six-foot-eight, three-hundred-fifty-pound Hawaiian puppy. Who liked to carry guns.
“This place doesn’t look all that impressive,” I said, glancing about at the majestic pillars and enormous hallways. “Where are the books?”
“Oh, this isn’t the archives,” Sing said, pointing toward a doorway. “The archives are in there.”
I raised an eyebrow and walked to the door, then pulled it open. Inside I found an army.
There were a good fifty or sixty soldiers, all standing at attention in ranks, their metal helmets glistening in the lamplight. At the back of the room there was a set of stairs leading down.
“Wow,” I said.
“Why, young Lord Smedry!” a voice boomed. I turned and was surprised to see Archedis—the big-chinned Knight of Crystallia from Bastille’s trial—walking toward me. “How surprising to see you here!”
“Sir Archedis,” I said. “I could say the same of you, I guess.”
“There are always two full knights on guard at the Royal Archives,” Archedis said.
“Not a library,” one of the soldiers added.
“I was just here overseeing a shift change,” Archedis said, stepping up to me.
He was a lot more intimidating when standing. Silvery armor, rectangular face, a chin that could destroy small countries if it fell into the wrong hands. Sir Archedis was the type of knight that people stuck on recruitment posters.
“Well,” I said. “We came to investigate the Royal Archives—”
“Not a library,” Sir Archedis said.
“—because we think the Librarians might be interested in them.”
“They’re quite well protected,” Archedis said in his deep voice. “A half platoon of soldiers and two Crystin! But I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have an Oculator around too, particularly when there are Librarians in town!”
He glanced over my shoulder. “I see that you’ve brought young Bastille with you,” he added. “Good job—keep her moving about and not wallowing in her punishment!”
I glanced back at Bastille. She’d focused on Sir Archedis, and I thought I was beginning to see some emotion return to her. Likely she was thinking about how much she’d like to ram something long and pointy into his chest.
“I’m sorry we had to meet under such poor circumstances, Lord Smedry,” Archedis said to me. “I’ve been following your exploits.”
“Oh,” I said, flushing. “You mean the books?”
Archedis laughed. “No, no, your real exploits! The battle against Blackburn was reportedly quite impressive, and I would have liked to see that fight with the Alivened. I hear you handled yourself quite well.”
“Oh,” I said, smiling. “Well, thanks.”
“But tell me,” he said, leaning down. “Did you really break a Crystin sword with that Talent of yours?”
I nodded. “Hilt came right off in my hand. I didn’t realize it, but the problem was my emotion. I was so nervous that the Talent activated with a lot of power.”
“Well, I guess I just have to take your word!” Archedis said. “Would you like a knight as guard for your person during this investigation?”
“No,” I said. “I think we’ll be fine.”
“Very well then,” he said, slapping me on the back. (Side note: Getting slapped—even affectionately—on the back by someone wearing gauntlets is not comfortable.) “Carry on, and best of luck.” He turned to the soldiers. “Let them pass and follow their orders! This is the heir of House Smedry!”
The soldiers, en masse, saluted. With that, Archedis marched out the door, armor clinking.
“I like that guy,” I said after he was gone.
“Everyone does,” Sing said. “Sir Archedis is one of the most influential knights in the order.”
“Oh, I don’t think everyone likes him,” I said, glancing at Bastille. She was watching the doorway.
“He’s amazing,” she whispered, surprising me. “He’s one of the reasons I decided to join.”
“But he was one of the ones who voted to have you stripped of your rank!”
“He was the least harsh on me,” Bastille said.
“Only because I convinced him to be.”
She regarded me with an odd expression; it seemed that she was coming out of her funk a little bit. “I thought you liked him.”
“Well, I do,” I said.
Or at least I had liked him—right up until the point that Bastille had started talking about how wonderful he was. Now, quite suddenly, I became convinced that Sir Archedis was plain and dull-witted. I prepared to explain this to Bastille, but was interrupted as the soldiers began to make way for us to pass.
“Ah, nice,” Sing said, walking forward. “Last time I had to spend an hour appeasing their security requirements.”
Bastille followed. She obviously hadn’t recovered completely, even if she was a little more animated. We entered the stairwell, and for a brief moment I was reminded of the Library of Alexandria, with its wraith-like Librarians and endless rows of dusty tomes and scrolls. It had been beneath the ground too.
The similarity soon ended. Not only were the Royal Archives not a library, but the stairwell didn’t end in a strange teleporting darkness. Instead it stretched on for a distance, dusty and dry. When we finally reached the bottom, we found the two Knights of Crystallia standing guard at another set of doors. They saluted, apparently recognizing Sing and me.
“How long will you need access, my lord?” one of the knights asked.