Keeper (First Ordinance #2)(12)

Perhaps they were looking forward to the trip just as much as Dena and Gurnil were. Gurnil sat at one end of the table, watching the sea and writing his observations on the parchment he'd brought with him. The Library would have new additions when he returned to Avii Castle.

"I'm surprised the journey is so smooth," I responded to Berel's observation. "The last portion of my journey to Avii Castle aboard Orik's boat was uneven at best."

"Smaller boats ride the waves. Something this size merely plows through them," Berel shrugged. "I saw your landing at the castle—I looked through past satellite recordings until I found it."

"I know." It didn't matter, now. Berel knew much of what the Avii had kept secret for years uncounted. That knowledge would count for nothing if all of Siriaa died of the poison.

"You are the High President's son?" Kaldill and Daragar had come looking for Berel. Kaldill turned to smile at me, however, while waiting for Berel's response.

He already knew who Berel was. What he was doing was amazing—at least to me. Asking questions was his way of measuring whomever he studied. Kaldill intended to measure the father by the son.

I could have told him that Edden Charkisul was the best leader Kondar could hope for. I also hoped that his life was safe—I knew Berel had information from the last vid-meeting with the High President, and news of the usurper's escape worried both, I could tell.

"I am, sir," Berel nodded respectfully. "I understand you are Kaldill Schaff, King of the Elves. I have never heard of elves, sir. Will you enlighten me?"

Without aid of any mechanical object, an image of forests and flowering gardens appeared among us. They appeared so real I wished to touch petals, stems and trunks. I'd never seen such healthy growing things in my life. Without realizing, I'd breathed a sigh of desire-filled pleasure at the sight.

People—elves—began to walk through the images. Like Kaldill, they had pointed ears. They wore embroidered robes that complimented their surroundings perfectly, and were content to be where they were.

"We have a library and a seat of learning here—these grounds surround it," Kaldill smiled. "It is called Gaelar N'Seith, Garden of the Elves."

"It’s beautiful," I breathed. I couldn't help myself—I wanted to go there. In my mind, no taint of the poison would be found in that soil.

"You are correct," Kaldill smiled at me again. "Perhaps we should discuss your wings, and why they are different from all others."

"I have no information to give you," I shook my head.

"I understand that. I merely wish to examine them, I think, and attempt to solve that riddle for both of us. Daragar has already visited the Larentii Archives and spoken to Nefrigar, their Chief Archivist. He knows of none such, either. If a Larentii has no records, then there are no records to be found."

"Do they have records of Fyris and Kondar? Of Siriaa?" I asked.

"Yes, most certainly," Daragar replied with a smile. "After each of my visits, I give information to Nefrigar, who stores it in the Archives. Other Larentii visited before I came. Kondar, Fyris and Yokaru are all there, from their beginnings on this world."

That stopped me in my tracks. He knew of their origins? The question of why Fyris was hidden and so backward compared to the other continents tickled my tongue. I dared not ask it; Omina, Amlis, Rodrik and Beatris walked through the door.

Midday had arrived and they'd come for their meal—as scheduled.

*

Larentii Archives

"This is information I would refuse most others," Nefrigar handed copies of heavy volumes to Kooper Griff, Head of the ASD. "It includes current maps and conditions, all of which were supplied by Daragar through his many visits to Siriaa."

"Lissa and the others are just as interested in this," Kooper nodded to Nefrigar. "You have my thanks."

"The Hidden had influence upon many things," Nefrigar replied, his words enigmatic. "None of it good."

"Let's hope it doesn't end up killing us, then," Kooper replied.

*

Le-Ath Veronis

"Even the Larentii don't know what it is," Lissa shut the book with a sigh. "Or where it came from. They've studied the effects and the efforts made by the winged guardians to hold it at bay, but the guardian queen is dead. According to this—she was only able to disrupt the spreading of the poison. She didn't neutralize it."

"You know the Larentii collect everything. They wouldn't collect that poison—whatever it is," Kooper jerked his head at one of the books. "That means even they don't trust their methods of collection or containment. What in the name of the fire pit is this?"

"I'll attempt to sort out who Liron is—or was," Lissa fumed. "It looks as if he were at the bottom of all this."

"The people of Fyris—and the guardians—Daragar notes that they're not native to that world. Where did they come from? There's no evidence they arrived on their own. This is a huge mess," Kooper grumbled.

"We have imported people, a hidden continent, a poison nobody can define and a dead god, in all probability. Anything else?"

"The guardian queen—how did she interrupt the poison's spread?"