Jay - Ahern's Burden
The Library of Cedar

“I can’t do it,” Jay said, shaking his head. “Next time,” Jay pleaded. “I’ll do it next time.”

“Are you sure?” Barclay asked, smiling. “You’ve done so well this past week.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

“Because it’s far away,” Jay said, “and I can’t see where I’m going. I might appear in a wall or hurt you.”

“Or you may place me outside a window,” Barclay said, sarcastically adding to Jay’s fear.

“Yes.”

Three weeks had passed since Jay found his mother’s poem. He read the other books twice over and found four other passages concluding with his mother’s initials.

Barclay explained further about the Library of Cedar of the former Ondorian Kingdom. The Library resided in the Lucas Building, a beautiful structure, cut into the end of the Timper Mountain Range. The facility once hosted the most prestigious learning center before the war. Over the years, the building saw declining use until it was abandoned. Hoping the library was still intact, Barclay knew it would be the only place they might find a book to help them decipher the poems left by Jay’s mother.

Barclay ended his teasing and extended his hand. “Next time.”

Jay nodded and grabbed his hand, and the two disappeared. When Jay opened his eyes, he thought they were still closed. He blinked but saw only darkness.

“Where are we?” Jay asked.

“The northwest corridor,” Barclay answered. “This was the main connection between the east and west wings.” He walked away, and Jay heard him slide something heavy across the floor.

“Can I light anything?”

“We’d be lucky to find a candle,” Barclay answered. “I’m trying to find some cloth and a piece of wo… Here we go.”

Jay heard him tear fabric and snap a piece of wood.

“Fuoco,” Barclay said, and the wrapped cloth at the end of an old chair leg sparked and burned.

Jay looked around in the dim lighting and walked to the nearest wall. He blew hard on the stone and scattered the dust. “Granite?” he asked, feeling the surface.

“Yes,” Barclay answered, “every stone. They carved most of the structure out of the mountain, but the rest was mined from the Ardean Valley and hauled through the country side.”

Jay looked up and down the corridor. “How long did it take?”

“To cut the stone or build the library?”

“To build the library,” he said.

“I couldn’t give you an exact timeline,” Barclay answered. “From what I have heard and read, some men worked the stone with their grandsons.”

Jay nodded while looking around at what he could see of the awesome structure.

“Cedar is a large building. What you see here is only one small corridor. The building took on many different roles over the years, but its primary purpose was a library.”

The two began walking down the corridor.

“At one point they added a mausoleum,” Barclay added.

“What’s a mausoleum?”

“It’s where the dead are laid to rest.”

“People are buried here?” Jay asked.

“Yes,” he said, ignoring Jay’s reaction, “in the basement. Did you want to see the catacombs?”

“No,” Jay answered quickly.

“One of the last functions of the building was a university,” Barclay said. “The caretakers thought it wise to put the massive collection of books to good use. And since the building sat on the coast, it became a maritime school. During the war, the Vareses and later the Drobins used it for a naval base. After they left, rumors spread about the building’s destruction.”

They walked up a flight of stairs and through another corridor.

“This used to be a busy place,” Barclay said with sorrow behind his words. “Full of people.”

They came to a window at the end of the hall and the two looked out at the view.

“From the eastern roof-tops I remember looking at the stars,” he said. “They would light up the sky.”

“Does anyone come here anymore?” Jay asked, picking up a dusty piece of scrap paper off the floor.

“No way to be certain,” Barclay answered. “Scavengers may come to salvage what they can.”

Barclay walked past Jay and he dropped the paper onto the floor.

The corridor continued, but Barclay stopped and looked to his right and left.

“If I remember properly, we need to go this way,” he said, aiming his torch to his right.

“What’s in there?” Jay asked, pointing straight ahead.

Barclay turned and joined Jay at the entrance to another room. The door lay on the floor, splintered and half burned.

“What was in here?” Jay asked, altering his previous question after his eyes adjusted.

The room wasn’t large, but the scavengers paid it the same respect as the other rooms. An overturned dresser had no drawers, its contents scattered about. A large broken table sat in the middle of the room, surround by the remnants of a smashed chandelier.

“This used to be an executive dining hall,” Barclay answered. “Ondorians used to throw lavish banquets for visiting dignitaries. One of their dining rooms had…” Barclay stopped in mid-sentence and leaned to the side of his torch. “Is this it?” he asked. “I believe so,” he said, answering his own question. “Come over here.”

Jay followed Barclay to the far wall, opposite the entrance. Two large archways opened onto a balcony.

“I don’t want to risk the integrity of the stone,” Barclay began, “but from this balcony you could see the inner cavern of the mountain.”

Jay felt a cool breeze and the torch flickered while they stood in the opening.

“This looked breathtaking in more light,” Barclay said.

Jay thought how pleasant it would have been to be here when the building had life. “Is every room destroyed?”

“They might be,” Barclay answered, honestly.

Jay had walked to the table during his explanation and collected dust off the surface. He looked at the side wall, and in the faint light saw a large broken mantle over an empty hearth. He followed the faint soot outline above the mantle until it faded away in the high ceiling. It saddened him to think of something with such history, neglected and abused. He looked back to the door and Barclay’s large silhouette. On the ground Jay saw that their footsteps had left permanent impressions on the dusty floor.

“No one’s been here for a long time,” Jay said.

Barclay nodded in agreement. “Let’s find the library.”

“Will it look like this?” Jay asked. The excitement of finding his mother’s book began to fade fast.

“I don’t know,” Barclay admitted. “Let’s hope.”

Barclay led Jay through the rest of the building. They went up countless flights of stairs only to go down others. Barclay had to teleport them across two missing hallways where the outer walls had been blown away during a siege.

Room after room, floor after floor, the images were the same. Vandals had stripped the structure of its glory.

“Can’t we teleport to the library?” Jay asked.

“I had the same thought when we arrived,” Barclay said. “The truth is, I’ve never been there.”

“You’ve never been there?”

“No,” he answered. “I always meant to go, but every time I planned to, something came up.” He glanced at Jay. “I wasn’t always a good student.”

“You don’t know where the library is?”

“I didn’t say I don’t know where it is,” Barclay responded, a little hurt. “I said I’ve never been there. I know how to get there. It’s up three more flights of stairs, at the end of the corridor.”

Jay hoped Barclay knew the way. The building had begun to unnerve him. He thought he saw shadows and half silhouettes when they walked past dark openings.

At the top of the last step Jay saw more corridors. He wanted to say something but decided against it.

On the left Jay saw another black archway come into view. He closed his eyes when Barclay stopped, and he ran into the back of him. “Sorry,” he said before Barclay turned around. “I wasn’t looking straight.”

“We’ve arrived,” Barclay proclaimed, taking in a deep breath to slow his heart rate.

“We are?” Jay asked with anticipation.

“Yes,” Barclay said in a winded voice. “Now I remember why I never wanted to come here.”

“Why?” Jay asked mildly concerned.

“The steps,” he answered, shaking off the last of his lightheadedness. “We should walk through the entrance hall and then we’ll be there.”

A deep arched opening that at one time had held two massive doors welcomed them. Jay’s hope faded further when he saw where the hinges were ripped from the stone. Whoever came in here hadn’t simply walked in, they broke in.

Once inside, the sheer size of the library left Jay awestruck. It didn’t appear to have a ceiling and the room had to be more than fifty feet wide and so deep he couldn’t see the end with their minimal light. Even the small amount he did see didn’t ease his concerns. The vandals had not spared the library.

Books and pages of books covered the floors. Overturned shelves lay broken and Jay couldn’t find a pathway anywhere. It almost looked like someone did it on purpose to prevent anyone from getting through.

“Hmm,” Barclay said, “We’ll need more light.”

“Are you sure?” asked Jay, concerned someone would see them.

Barclay picked up the nearest book and tried to read the spine with his torch. “Mystique, no. Mystine, Minister, Mysteries, that’s it, Mysteries. Mysteries of the, the, Chast, no, the Chaldry Kingdom.” He held the book up in Jay’s direction. “Mysteries of the Chaldry Kingdom. This one isn’t damaged.” He set the book down and walked out of the library.

“Where are you going?” Jay asked in the dark.

“I saw some furniture out here we could use for torches,” Barclay answered. “I’ll be right back.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Jay put his back against the wall and slid down. He closed his eyes and tried to trick his mind into believing if he couldn’t see anything, nothing could see him.

“Jay?” Barclay said coming back into the room.

Jay stood up quickly and Barclay heard him slide up the stone.

“Are you well?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s make this quick, then,” Barclay said, feeling his apprehension. “There are some lamp holders along the outer walls. Slide these chair legs into the rings and light the cloth.”

Jay took the half dozen chair legs from Barclay, and before long the room had sufficient light. Jay thought their search hopeless when he saw the room’s extremities.

Near the center of the entrance Barclay put down his extra torches. He removed some broken shelves and righted a large podium.

Jay walked over when he saw Barclay looking through it. “Why would anyone destroy books?”

“I don’t believe anyone who’s been here came with the sole purpose to destroy books,” Barclay said, wiping the dust off the podium. “Books hold information, priceless secrets if you know where and how to look. Some people don’t want others to find those secrets.”

Barclay opened the top of the podium and removed a few pieces of thin, fragile parchment.

“Then there are some,” he continued, “whose only purpose is to keep others ignorant.”

“You mean the Idols?” asked Jay.

“Who knows if they ordered this or not,” he admitted, while gingerly separating the different sheets. “Vandals may have acted like vandals.”

“What are those?” Jay asked.

“Logs,” answered Barclay, peering close to the pages. “Bring your flame closer? I can’t make out the cursive in this light.”

Jay obliged, and Barclay read aloud the last entry on the page.

Inventoried the remaining books. The third-floor mezzanine is empty. The second level still has sections to catalog. Main level holds the known literature. Will bring the remaining topics off the mezzanine in the morning.

“Anything else?” Jay asked.

“There are no later entries,” Barclay said, with his head still down, flipping through the other pages.

“These are all the books?” Jay asked, looking around at the piles of pages and empty spines.

“Did you catch the wording?” Barclay asked. “It says the third floor is empty, but they’ll bring the remaining topics off the mezzanine in the morning.”

“How many floors are there?” Jay asked.

“Three.”

“What are the known books?”

“Good question. These other pages are a list of the inventory. They have the same date.”

Jay leaned in and scanned the inventory log with Barclay.

“Your mother’s book is not listed.”

“What does that mean?” Jay asked.

“One of two possibilities,” he said. “They no longer have a copy, or the log is incomplete and it’s still on the second floor.” Barclay paused and looked around. “Or thrown down here.”

“Let’s go look on the second floor,” Jay said, with the hope and anticipation of a child. “If they haven’t logged it, it must be on the second floor.”

“A perfect place to start,” Barclay said.

Jay walked towards a torch he wanted to bring with him.

“Jay, wait,” Barclay said.

Jay turned around.

“I know how excited you are to find your mother’s book,” he said, taking a few steps towards Jay. “But the last date on the log is many years old. It may be gone.”

“I know,” he said, looking down.

When Barclay told him about his mother’s talents, Jay drew strength from the knowledge. His excitement had reached its peak when he told him about the library. The possibility of reading his mother’s books strengthened him. He had longed for any part of her and didn’t want to talk about possibly not finding it.

Barclay watched him. “Let’s do what we can.” He walked back to the log and inventory. He scanned the pages again and put them away in the podium.

“Let’s clear the third floor to be sure and work our way down. Grab a few torches. We’ll teleport up there.”

“Thank you,” Jay said, “I don’t think I can walk more stairs.”

“We couldn’t take the stairs if we wanted to,” Barclay said. “The staircase is lying over there. Someone ripped it from the stone.”

In no time they investigated the third floor and moved their torches to the second. The soft glow gave them plenty of light to search.

“Are bigger books more important?” Jay asked.

“No. The size of the book has nothing to do with the importance of its contents. See this book?” he said, picking up one of the largest books at his feet. “This is about ship building. In this book, the author felt with larger details, it would be easier for someone to know how to build a ship. The same details could easily fit in a book half the size.”

“I know this author,” Jay said. “I have this book.” He held it out for Barclay to see.

“I thought you would,” Barclay admitted. “You have a respectable collection.”

The compliment brought Jay a sense of pride. He never thought his collection praise-worthy, but it still made him feel good.

The books on the floor were scattered everywhere. Barclay set up a makeshift shelf to place them after they were searched. Before long they had a neatly stacked collection. The illegible books, or the ones in pieces, were thrown in the far corner and became their own pile of trash.

Halfway through a large stack, Jay picked up a brown book with gold leaf trim. He wiped a thick layer of dust and soot from the cover. The design was destroyed, and the back cover was blank.

Barclay noticed his attention to the book. “What did you find?”

“Not sure.” Jay looked at the spine and after rubbing away the dust, could only read the last two letters. ’gh.’ His heart beat faster and he rubbed harder, but the rest of the name was gone. He walked under a torch and opened the cover.

The Art of Code Writing

&

Deciphering Secret Messages

Prepared by

Milla E. Plough

Jay stared at the text and slowly ran his fingers along the end of the pages. He gently opened to a random page and found the lettering a beautiful cursive he had never seen before. Jay closed the book and looked at Barclay.

“Did you find it?”

Jay nodded.

“You found it.” Barclay stated, unable to withhold a smile.

“I almost threw it away.”

Barclay walked over.

“The cover is damaged, and I couldn’t read the author’s name,” Jay said, holding the book close. “The other books I couldn’t read I would open and check the title page. I thought this would be the same and didn’t want to waste my time. I almost threw it away.”

“But you didn’t,” Barclay said. “Can I see it?”

Jay nodded and handed him the book.

He read the title and smiled. “This should help us understand what she wanted you to know.”

Jay flipped through a couple of pages, reading them in his head.

Barclay watched Jay scan through the book. “Do you want to stay and read, or do you want to go home?”

“Can we go home?” Jay asked.

“Right away,” Barclay said. “Let’s put out the torches.”

Jay nodded and secured the book under his cloak.

The library quickly darkened as they made their way through the lower level and the entrance hall. A lone torch burned against the wall across from the archway where they entered. It looked like it would go out on its own. Barclay held the only other torch still burning and they turned and gave one last look to the library and its broken doors.

“It’s too bad.”

Jay nodded in agreement.

“Let’s go home,” Barclay said, reaching out his hand.

Jay took hold and closed his eyes. He didn’t mind teleporting, but he always felt better when he opened his eyes in a new place. He had learned to overcome the nausea. After a moment he peeked to see an uncomfortable expression on Barclay’s forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t teleport.”

Jay watched his face contort several times, stressing to do what came naturally.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. It feels like some…”

Two figures appeared in the archway between the corridor and the entrance hall. Their movement nearly extinguished the nearby torch on the wall. A third man slid behind them.

Barclay held tight onto Jay’s hand while he gently escorted him away from the new arrivals. In his other hand he held his torch out, away from his face, so he could have a clear view of everyone.

Without speaking, the men moved into the entrance hall and surrounded Barclay and Jay. When they stopped, Barclay had two men in his peripherals and a third in front of him.

“I don’t know who you are,” Barclay said. “We have no valuables. Grant us passage.”

Barclay recognized that two of the men wore old assassin’s garb and the third was a Grood. How are Wolves here?

“Your valuables are useless,” said the Grood in front of him.

Barclay eyed him warily.

“Only the boy.”

How did they know we’d be here? Barclay thought. We need to teleport. Had he been alone, he had no doubt he would make it out, but with Jay in the mix, he would prefer leaving. “Grant us passage!” he demanded.

“Give us the boy and you can go,” the Grood said.

Barclay moved Jay in front of him.

“What does a Groodarian want with a young boy?” Barclay asked.

The formal use of Flog’s former citizenship took him by surprise. It had been many years since he had heard the word Groodarian. Barclay’s knowledge or accidental respect impressed him. He knew he was an educated man.

“My charge is to bring in the boy,” he answered. “Someone wants to speak with him.”

“The Idols never want to have a conversation,” Barclay responded. “Grant us passage!”

Flog didn’t know how to respond to the Idol reference, but he kept his face passive.

The two Wolves held their ground.

“Where did you find the Wolves?” Barclay asked, “I thought they were hunted down.”

“Not all of them,” answered the Wolf on Barclay’s left.

“You’re a tough man to find,” Flog said, rubbing his neck, “but I have the right tools this time.”

Barclay knew they were not getting away without a fight. He handed Jay the torch and pulled on the front strings of his cloak. The subtle movement freed his cloak from his shoulders. It fell to the floor and gathered in a heap on the floor, exposing two swords strapped to his waist. Barclay moved his hands down to his hips and rested his palms on the steel ball at the end of the decorative hilts.

“We are not here for a fight,” Barclay said, eyeing each man. Trying one last time to leave on their own accord.

“Then give us the boy,” the man said. “I know you can’t teleport, and there are three of us. We are more than capable of handling your two swords.”

“So be it,” Barclay said, growing tired of the conversation. He grabbed the hilts of his swords and raised his hands straight up above his shoulders. The torch reflected the finely polished blades. The swords aimed horizontal above his head facing forward. Then in a swift move, he flipped the blades up and brought his hands around to hold them in the traditional manner.

The three assailants didn’t move.

Jay held the torch straight out in front of him at waist level. He didn’t know why Barclay couldn’t teleport and thought of trying on his own. He knew where they were going, but when the man in front of him said he knew Barclay couldn’t teleport he dismissed the thought.

The Wolf to their right pulled his sword and the Grood in front produced another.

You’re the one I want, thought Barclay, referring to the unarmed Wolf.

The men eyed each other, and in a tense stillness Jay thought he heard his heart beating.

“Down!” Barclay commanded.

Jay followed his instructions and squatted.

In a flurry, Barclay went into action. He spun around Jay’s small figure with perfection, forcing the two attacker’s encroachments back with every swing of his sword. His shadowy figure passed in front of Jay several times. In mid-motion, Barclay threw a small dagger towards the third man.

Jay heard the knife fly and saw the man spin out of the way.

Barclay never broke stride.

Jay looked up at Barclay and back to the other man. He was gone. He tried to spot him again from his position, but with Barclay blocking his view and the limited light, he couldn’t find him.

Barclay stopped and eyed the empty space for a moment, then continued.

Desperate to locate the spare, Jay looked around anxiously when he heard a faint, familiar whistle.

“No,” Jay yelled, and stuck out his hand.

Time stood still, and the fighting stopped while everyone took in the sight.

A white glow emanated from Jay’s hand, producing a thin tether to the arrow. Jay had stopped it before it struck Barclay.

Barclay half turned and saw what Jay had done.

Jay looked at his hand in amazement until he realized all eyes were on him. Without thinking he threw his hand away from his body and the arrow followed his lead. The tether broke free and the arrow flew across the room and hit the far wall.

Jay had never seen a white glow. He could control a yellow and green, but white came out of nowhere. The distraction prevented him from reacting in time to the second arrow.

This one hit its target, rendering Barclay’s left arm useless.

And then the fighting continued.

Jay still couldn’t locate the other man in the dark corners of the entrance hall.

Barclay held his own until a stroke caught his left calf.

Barclay’s entire left side went limp and he fell to his knees.

Flog stepped in and knocked the torch to the floor and jumped back.

Barclay took a swing but missed, giving the other man time to step in and knock him with the hilt of his sword. Delirious, he started to lose consciousness when the men disarmed and subdued him.

Flog grabbed Jay and pulled him away from Barclay.

One of the Wolves tied Barclay’s hands behind him and propped him up facing Flog and Jay.

“Barclay!” Jay screamed, while Barclay took several unrestricted shots to the face. “Stop!”

When the man did stop he paced back and forth while he eyed Barclay.

Jay watched the man slip on a black glove.

The beating had awakened Barclay from the initial blow and he watched the Wolf flex his hand inside his new weapon. His eyes carried no fear. He didn’t close them when the man lunged and gave him a solid blow to his left temple.

The man’s body spared Jay a view of the hit. He saw Barclay’s head hang low when he moved out of the way.

The Wolf from behind grabbed Barclay’s hair and held his head up.

The other man took off the glove and retrieved his sword.

“That’s enough,” Flog said.

The man eyed Flog. “This is a separate matter. Out of your control.”

“We have the boy,” Flog petitioned. “There is no need to kill him.”

The man looked at Barclay and then again to Flog. “This is out of your control.”

The other wolf let go of Barclay’s hair and leaned him over.

Jay didn’t know what to do. He looked around in the darkness. Watching the execution of the man who raised him, his guardian and friend was unimaginable, and it triggered a response he could not control. His body shuddered, and an intense pulse began to emanate through him when the man raised his sword. Without warning the pulse exploded, throwing Flog and the two bounty hunters against the outer walls.

Barclay fell into a heap on the stone floor.

A dark red glow leached through Jay’s clothes and surrounded his body. The pulse pinned the two assassins and the Grood against the stone. Jay walked over to Barclay’s unconscious body and stopped. He fixed his eyes on the assassins and leaned in. The strength of the pulse split the walls behind them. Everything on the floor flew out of the way and compressed against the outer walls. The immediate stones on the floor also began to compress and debris fell from the ceiling. Jay’s pulse forced one of the men through a small crack in the wall, throwing him into the night. The other man screamed under the pressure of Jay’s continuous pulse.

Flog watched in awe as a small tornado swirled around Jay.

Other stones began to crack and fall and follow the first bounty hunter into the night sky. The building’s integrity began to fail.

“Jay,” Barclay said in a hushed voiced. “Stop.”

Barclay’s voice broke Jay from his trance and his glow receded. The wind dispersed, freeing Flog and the other man from their prisons.

“You’re alive,” Jay said as the red glow disappeared under his clothes. He grabbed the torch and brought it closer to Barclay’s face.

“Take my hand,” Barclay whispered.

Flog gathered his wits about him. He focused well enough to see Jay reach behind Barclay before they vanished from the hall, leaving him alone with a Wolf in the darkness.

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