He knew the people who had wronged him were long dead. The people he had slain had never even seen a dragon before, let alone done one injury. There was no justice in killing them. Their spilled blood was his shame, his burden.
Mankind had grown weak. There was no glory in battle, nor honour in slaughter. He would do no more. The mountains stretched far to the west. He would depart the lands of men. He would find a new mountain and a new cave in a place no human could ever reach. Perhaps he might even find another of his kind, or perhaps some unhatched eggs that he could nurture to life. Hope was ever present in a world so huge.
Holding that thought in his mind, he found a peaceful sleep.
CHAPTER 31
A man wearing the Prince Bishop’s livery waited outside her apartment when Solène returned after her evening meal. She had spent the day resting after the initiation, still feeling the effects of her over-exertion during the tests.
“The Prince Bishop would like you to attend on him at the cathedral at seven bells. There is a carriage waiting at the gate to take you.”
Dinner had started at six bells, which meant she was already either late, or very close to it. That wasn’t the way she wanted to start things with him.
“Give me a moment to get my things,” she said.
The messenger nodded and stepped back. Inside, clothes were spread everywhere—the past few days had been such a turmoil that she had not had time to keep anything organised. She looked about for her cloak—the new one she was entitled to wear as an initiate—and started digging through a mound of the novice robes that she had only needed for so brief a time. Finally she found what she was looking for and put it on as she headed out the door.
She rushed through the Priory’s courtyards to the gate where the Prince Bishop’s personal carriage awaited. She knew it was a continued sign of the importance he placed on her. She had never had to live up to expectations before, and was not finding her first taste of it at all palatable. Aside from it all, she felt awkward getting into such a plush conveyance.
The messenger sat up front with the driver, leaving her to the luxury of the interior in privacy. They jolted to a start and she could hear the driver shouting at the horses as the carriage accelerated down the road. Although it wasn’t the most comfortable of rides, it was certainly exhilarating, as the carriage leaned over on its suspension springs rounding the corners.
The clatter of hooves and wheels on cobblestones signalled they were getting close—Solène had already learned that only the most central streets of the city were paved. Eventually, the carriage lurched to a stop with as much vigour as it had started. The messenger opened the door and held out a hand to help her down. It was treatment unlike any she had ever experienced. Only nobles and burgesses received such deference.
She followed the messenger into the cathedral’s nave just as its great bell rang out seven times. It was a relief to have arrived on time, but the rushed journey left her feeling flustered, adding to her anxiety about the Prince Bishop.
He sat on a pew, making small talk with another churchman, who hung on the Prince Bishop’s every word. When the Prince Bishop saw her, he actually looked relieved. He stood and walked toward her, stopping the other man mid-sentence.
“Your Grace,” Solène said. “You wish to see me?”
“I do,” he said. “I have something that I very much want to show you.”
This innocuous statement was a relief, but Solène wondered what there might be in a cathedral that would be of interest to her. He led her to an alcove at the side of the nave, and then down a tight spiral staircase that must have brought them below the level of the river.
“The room I’m about to show you is a remnant of the building that was on this site before the cathedral was built,” the Prince Bishop said. “It was used by the church in the days after the collapse of the Empire to collect and safeguard knowledge that my forebears knew would be lost in the turmoil that would follow. They were right. To the best of my knowledge, there is nowhere else in the world with so much material from old Imperial libraries.”
Solène nodded, doing her best to seem interested while trying to work out where he was going with it.
“Much of the knowledge gathered here concerns the practise of magic,” the Prince Bishop said. “Most of it, in fact.”
They arrived at a large set of ancient double doors, which he unlocked and cast open. As soon as they had slammed to a halt, scores of magelamps illuminated down a long hallway lined with shelves. Solène’s eyes widened. The vicar in Bastelle had a library in his church—it had consisted of one shelf. This place was enormous. To just count the tomes in this library would take weeks. Perhaps months. To read them? She wondered if a lifetime would be enough.
Books weren’t the only things stored there. Many of the shelves she could see were more like honeycombs, with each little square niche containing what looked like a scroll.
“Impressive, isn’t it,” the Prince Bishop said. “I felt exactly the same way when I first saw it. I spend as much time as I can down here. So much forgotten knowledge. So much that the world actively shuns. If only they knew how much it could help them. Medicine, engineering, science—the knowledge here could take us into a new golden age. I hope that it will. This was where I came up with the idea for the Order.”
“Why are you showing me this?” Solène said.
“Because I think you represent a great opportunity to usher in the new golden age in our lifetime. I have brought you here to learn. To acquire magical abilities that can make a real, positive difference in people’s lives. To show them magic isn’t all dark sorcery, that it can be an incredible force for good. I hope that one day soon, you’ll be able to help your brothers and sisters advance more rapidly as well.”
“I … I hope I do not disappoint,” Solène said. What he spoke of appealed to her, but it was daunting. To be part of something so much bigger than herself, and to be expected to be such a huge influence on it, made her feel sick. “Where do I start?” Solène said.
The Prince Bishop laughed. “Wherever you want. I’ve set out some things that I’ve found particularly interesting, to start you off. Consider this library an adventure and follow wherever it leads you. The only rule is this: Before you try any magic, any at all, you must take it to Seneschal dal Drezony to discuss, and your first attempt at using it must be under her supervision. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Solène said.
“Good. My agreement with the seneschal stipulates that you spend mornings at the Priory—fencing, exercise, and lessons with her. The rest of the time, I expect you to spend here. There will be no other demands on you. You start tomorrow, but if you want to have a look around now, please do. There’s something of a surprise awaiting you. I’ll be disappointed if you can’t overcome it, though.” He smiled cryptically, but without malice. “My carriage will wait outside to take you back to the Priory whenever you’re ready,” he said as he turned to go.
Solène waited for the reverberating boom of the heavy doors closing behind him to subside before going over to look at the things he had left on a table. Her eyes widened when they fell on the text—it was unintelligible. It took her a moment to realise that it was written in old Imperial—essentially the language she spoke, but in a form over a thousand years old. That was the surprise, she assumed, and therefore her first test was to work out how to read it.