Masques (Sianim #1)(23)

"Dragons' ears are very acute - so acute that we all were holding our breath when we neared it. We would have made it if Wikker hadn't dropped one of the bejeweled, golden goblets. He dropped it right on the fiend's glistening muzzle ...."

"What happened'?" asked a hushed voice from the crowd.

Aralorn smiled mysteriously and said, "It ate us, of course."

There was a short silence, then a sheepish laugh as they realized that she'd been telling them a tall tale from the beginning. Wolf was close enough to hear Stanis's disgruntled, "That's not how it should have ended. You're supposed to kill the dragon."

Aralorn laughed and ruffled the boy's hair. "There is another ending to the story. I'll tell you it later. Now, though, I think that I hear someone calling us for lunch."

* * *

AFTER LUNCH THE WOLF TOUCHED ARALORN ON THE SHOULDER and motioned for her to follow him. They slipped quietly out of camp and scaled one side of the valley. Once on the top they followed a faint trail through the trees that led to a cliff honeycombed with caves.

Wolf chose one of the dark entrances and lit the way through the tunnels with his staff. Aralorn hadn't noticed that he was carrying the staff while they were walking, but she supposed that it was just part of being a mysterious mage.

"Wolf, these caves would make a much better winter shelter than the tents. Why aren't you using them?"

Wolf motioned her to a small branch and halted her with one hand on her arm. He tilted the staff slightly, until she realized that directly in front of them was a dark hole. "I don't know how far down that one goes, but there are some holes that seem almost bottomless. If there were no children, you might risk it, but it's too difficult to keep them from wandering. We are storing a lot of the supplies in a few caves near the surface, and I drew up a map for Myr of a section that is pretty isolated from the main cave system. If it becomes necessary to move the camp into the caves, we can. But it is safer in the valley."

Aralorn looked at the blackness in front of them and nodded. She also stayed close to Wolf the rest of the way through the caves.

They came to a large chamber that he illuminated with a flick of a hand. The chamber was easily as spacious as the great hall in the ae'Magi's castle. Carved into all the walls were shelves covered with hooks. Wooden bookcases were packed tightly with more books and stacked in rows with only a narrow walkway between them. Here and there were careful slacks of volumes waiting to find a place on the crowded shelves.

Aralorn whistled softly. "I thought that Ren's library was impressive. We're going to read all of these?"

Wolf shrugged. "Unless we find something before we have to read them all." As he spoke he led her through one of the narrow pathways between bookcases to an open area occupied by a flat table that held an assortment of quills, ink and paper, On either side of the table were small padded benches.

Aralorn looked around and asked, "Where do you want me to start?"

"Anywhere. Normally, I know, you can tell if something is magic, but for your safety let me look at the books before you open them. There are spells to disguise the presence of magic, and some of the grimoires are set - with traps for the unwary. I'd prefer not to spend valuable time trying to resurrect you," he said.

"Can you resurrect people?" She kept her voice mildly curious, though she'd never heard of such a thing actually happening.

"Let's not find out," was his reply.

"So, what do I look for, I mean other than a book titled. Twenty-five Foolproof Ways to Destroy a Powerful Evil Magician'?"

He gave a short laugh before he answered. "Look for a name of a mage who fought another magician. If I have a name I might be able to find his grimoire. You also might note down any object that could be of use. Although magical items are notoriously hard to find - even if they're not the creation of some bard's overactive imagination - and we don't have the leisure time to go on a quest."

Aralorn inspected one shelf, pulled out a book at random and took it to the table. She ran her fingers lightly over the metallic binding of the book. Originally it had been silver but it had tarnished to a dull black. She could read the title only because she once coaxed Ren into teaching her the words inscribed on the old wall mosaics in some of the older places in Sianim. Reluctantly she put it away without opening it, knowing that it wouldn't have anything of use. The people who used that language had disliked magic to such an extent that they burned the practitioners of it. They had been a trading people, and merchants in general were not overly fond of magicians. She thought about the chubby merchant she'd seen in another cave and smiled; maybe merchants had reason to dislike magicians.

It took several more tries before she found a book that suited her and passed Wolf's inspection. This one was about three hundred years old and told the history of a tribe of tinkers that used to roam the lands in great numbers. They were scarcer now and tended to keep to themselves. Whoever wrote the book she was reading still believed in the powers of the old gods, and he intermixed history and myth with a cynicism that she thoroughly enjoyed. Taking a piece of blank paper, she kept careful note of anything that might be potentially useful.

Her favorite was the story of the jealous chieftain whose wife was unfaithful. Frustrated, he visited the local magician, who gave him a large bronze statue of the demigod Kinez, the faithful. When his wife kissed a man in its presence it would come to life and kill the unlucky suitor. The chieftain had the statue placed in his wife's wagon, and after several of her favorites died she sinned no more, or at least found another place to sin.