Osmirik had heard of a card catalog, but the only one he knew of was far away in the library of the Imperial University, in Hunra, the capital city of the Eastern Empire. Osmirik had never been there.
He stepped out and approached the stranger.
The man seemed to sense a presence long before he could have heard Osmirik’s careful step. The man turned and smiled. “Greetings,” he said.
Osmirik stopped. “Are you the librarian?”
The man took a moment to consider the matter before saying, “Yes, sir. Can I be of any assistance?”
“You can. I wish to see what you have on the subject of demonology.”
For a brief moment the man fixed him in a penetrating gaze. Then he said, “Of course, sir. This way.”
He led Osmirik into an aisle running between the end of the stacks and a row of carrels. They walked along until they came to a winding stairwell, which they mounted to the first gallery. As they moved along a railed walkway, Osmirik surveyed the expansive floor below, his wonder renewed. The librarian stopped in front of a tier of shelves.
“Now, as far as demonology is concerned, the main titles are here. However, there are more in a special section for oversize folios, located on the first floor. There are not many of those, and I will fetch them for you. As you can see, there is not much overall. It is a subject for which field research can be problematical.”
“I quite understand.”
“There exist many excellent works of a theoretical bent, but I must warn you that they are far from definitive.”
Osmirik regarded him. “Oh? Are you versed in the subject?”
“I would like to believe so. I have for years been engaged in research along those lines.”
“Indeed? I would be grateful for any assistance you could give me.”
“I am at your service, sir.” The man bowed.
“Thank you. Would you fetch those oversize portfolios for me?”
“Certainly, sir.”
The librarian left, and Osmirik scanned the shelves. He was amazed. There were works here he’d only heard of, volumes of surpassing rarity. He chose one, an ancient work on demoniacal taxonomy. He opened it and carefully leafed through.
He’d best get to work. He picked two more books and carried them to a nearby table, sat down and began to study.
Presently he was aware of the librarian at his side.
“Yes?”
“The oversize portfolios, sir.”
“Put them here.”
“Yes, sir. You might also be interested in this work.”
He held out what looked like an ancient scroll. Osmirik took it and read the title. It was written in an unusual form of hieratic Lutonian with which Osmirik was quite familiar, having done his thesis in the history of the Lutonian Empire.
He was astounded, and in an awed murmur said, “The Book of Demons!” This work was not only rare; most eminent scholars were convinced it was no longer extant. Indeed, there were some scholars who claimed the book was merely a legend.
“Where …?”
“Yes, an exceedingly arcane work. I have read it.”
Osmirik was incredulous. “You have?”
“Yes. I hope you will find it useful. I did to some extent.” The librarian looked off. “But it did not tell me exactly what I needed to know.”
“I see,” Osmirik said, his voice barely audible.
The librarian sighed and looked down at him. “Will there be anything else, sir?”
“Ah … no.” Osmirik managed to smile. “You have been very helpful.”
“Only too happy, sir.”
The librarian turned to go, walked a few paces away, then stopped and turned slowly around. “There is one more thing, sir.”
Osmirik looked up. “Yes?”
The librarian’s features suddenly took on familiar lines. Osmirik realized that he had been avoiding looking at the man’s face, for a reason he could not fathom. Now, with a suppressed gasp of surprise, he recognized the man standing before him.
“Tell Melydia that I wait for her,” Incarnadine said.
Flabbergasted, mouth agape, Osmirik stared at Incarnadine’s back until the tall man strode out of sight.
Keep — Upper Stories
Kwip poked his head into the wall of the corridor then withdrew it. “Another hallway on the other side of this,” he said. “But little else.”
“We’re getting more and more lost,” Linda said.
“Not possible,” Gene said. “You can’t go beyond being utterly, hopelessly lost, which is what we were to begin with.”
“Aye, true enough,” Kwip observed, while debating with himself whether to slip away or stay with his new-found companions. He had tagged along because he needed food, and now that he had almost a full backpack — Linda had conjured one for him along with the preserved food he’d asked for — he was ready again to strike off into far parts of the castle. But he was having second thoughts. Wandering alone was perhaps a bit too dangerous.
He came to a decision. He’d stay with the group for now and bide his time. He didn’t like the thought of dividing booty five ways, but if by chance they should find the treasure room, the question would likely boil down to how much one person could carry. He did not doubt that fabulous wealth lay behind the building of such an edifice as this.
Unless the buggers squandered everything building it, he thought ruefully. Which might indeed be the case.
“How about the other wall, Kwip?” Gene asked.
Kwip moved to the opposite wall, stopping a nose’s length away. He touched his forehead to the cold stone for the barest moment. Then his head disappeared into the wall, half his body following.
“Wow, that’s the strangest thing,” Gene said. “I wonder what it feels like?”
Kwip extricated himself and shook his head. “Merely a large room with naught in it.”
“Could you possibly get stuck halfway in?” Gene wondered.
“A disquieting notion,” Kwip said. “I’d as lief not think on it.”
“Yeah.” Gene cast a glance up the hallway. “Well, hell. I guess we should just keep walking this way.”
They moved on.
“Can you breathe when you’re, you know, inside a wall?” Gene asked.
“No. I can draw breath, but none comes.”
“Do you feel anything? I mean —”
“Tis not a sensation to be described easily,” Kwip said. “There is some resistance, but not enough to impede me. There is a musty, stuffy smell, some slight dizziness … More I cannot really say.”
“Huh,” Gene said thoughtfully.
They came to a large chamber with corbeled walls and plentiful alcoves. In one corner, however, an open door led out to bright daylight.
Gene said, “That doesn’t look like a portal.”
They filed through and came out onto a high terrace with crenellated battlements. Gene looked over the edge. The drop looked to be about eighty stories. Turning and looking up, he saw that there weren’t many more stories above. He turned back and took in the view.
“Not as high as the World Trade Center, but just as heart-stopping.”
“I don’t like heights,” Linda said nervously.
“Neither do I, but look at this place. It’s so complex, it’s hard to take in all at once. Look at all those concentric walls and towers and things.”
Jacoby said, “Magnificent, isn’t it?”
“Twas wizardry built this,” Kwip said under his breath.
“I think those are people moving around down there,” Gene said. “At the foot of this main building here, the one we’re in.”
“Aye, the keep.” Kwip shaded his eyes and looked. “An army. The besiegers.”