Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse) (49 page)

“My grandmother’s journals speak of a way to transport oneself without using a portal. I’ve searched the library for many years seeking this knowledge, but have found nothing. I thought to try Mater Therin’s library this time, but it has blocked me.”

She paused before the bookcase, studying its shelves. She closed her eyes and stretched her senses out, searching for any type of ward that would reach out and smack her. She felt a pulse of Energy emanating from it; she twitched back a bit. And then she felt the pulse awaken and stir.

«?»

“It’s aware.” She sighed in relief. Then, turning her attention back to the bookshelf, she projected. «I need a book that teaches how to transport oneself from one place to another without using a portal. Please.”

She felt the awareness pause for a moment as if thinking, then an odd sensation filled her as if she was being weighed and measured; she tried to remain calm, remembering that this had happened with Mirëdell’s source. Excitement emanated from the bookshelf as it said, «Here.»

She glanced to the top shelf along the left side; a book slid out partway. «Thank you.» Analindë tentatively reached her hand out to the glass door enclosing the shelves. She sighed in relief when it swang open at her touch and didn’t throw her across the room. She heard Andulmaion echo her sigh; euphoria rushed over her. She reached up and pulled the book down.

The book was humming to her; it was an ancient tune, a country dance. It made her heart happy just hearing the song. Cradling the book in her hands, she ambled back over to Andulmaion.

It was bound in the same leather in which the scrying book had been bound, except this one was blue. As she neared Andulmaion, winter sunlight happened to hit the cover and blue sparkles refracted across the room. “I believe this will help us.” She reluctantly handed the book over to him. The happy tune left her as she let the book go.

He gently flipped through several of the pages before handing it back to Analindë. “This is beyond my skills,” he said somberly while studying her for a moment. The stars in his eyes swirled in patterns of hope. “The bookcase gave it to
you
, Analindë. You’ve surprised us all, and have many hidden talents. Perhaps you can find a way to make it work?” She’d been caught in her own trap; she’d thought to just tag along.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, a roaring filled her ears as the giddy excitement of confronting the Humans vanished.
She
was going to have to do it? Analindë foolishly reached out and plucked the book from his hand. Her chest felt tight and she couldn’t breathe very well but the happy tune had started up again, calming her.

“I’ll search it out. I may yet continue to surprise us both.” A smile played at her lips, but inside she could only think, stars! Stars. Stars-stars-stars-stars-stars!

“Would you mind checking the bookcase to see if there’s something that can help me with my spell? If it gave you that book, I wonder what else the case holds.” Good idea, Analindë thought.

“It would be my pleasure.” She set her book down and headed back to the bookshelf. She gently extended a tendril of thought. «Please, we have need of one more book.»

«?»

«We search for information about an offensive spell that would drain Energy from an object or person to use in defense of self and others.»

She hesitated for a moment and then added. “We use it in defense against a spell like this.” She formed the image in her mind of when she had cowered outside her home, feeling the effects of the Human wizard’s spell against her parents. She pushed the image toward the bookshelf. Remembering the building waves of power, she shrank with sorrow from what had come next. The memory was whisked away from her, and then memories flashed by her as the bookshelf more aggressively rifled through the events of that horrific day. The humans laughing, the amulet the wizard wore, how they’d chased her up the mountain, the death strikes the Human had thrown at her. They unleashed a well of sadness, unbearable sadness. The bookcase abruptly stopped; she found herself back in the present, feeling like she needed to sit down and have a good cry.

The pause from the bookcase was longer this time; it was almost as if the bookshelf was contemplating her request, trying to decide if it would give the book or not. She used the time to carefully pack away her emotions, setting them aside to deal with at a later date. It took her a moment to clear her mind of the disturbing memories, but she managed it. Unfortunately, the great sadness lingered with her.

Finally the bookcase came to a decision and said, «Here.» A book on the third shelf down from the top slid out. «Thank you,» she said as she pulled a delicate and slightly tattered looking book from the shelf and shut the glass door.

“It almost didn’t give it to me; here, take it.” She quickly handed the book over to Andulmaion. He looked shocked.

“How old do you think it is? It’s so brittle, it seems as if it would blow away with a slight breeze” she said.

Andulmaion’s eyes sparkled with complex patterns as he reverently held the book in his hands. “Oh, it won’t. Blow away that is. I recognize the look of this book; I believe it used to belong to a set. They’re well protected and nothing we do to it could ever damage it. Come, see.” He set the book upon the table and opened the worn leather binding to reveal the first page. He smiled triumphantly, “Look.” He pointed to the name on the page.

“Elenna the Wise. It’s your great-ancestor, the one with the
knowing
,” she exclaimed.

“That is what some call her,” he shrugged. “Our library back home is filled with many such books. I’m very happy to have the reading of this.” He settled down in a chair and reverently turned a few pages.

Analindë grabbed her book and sat on the opposite side of the table facing him. She glanced at the bookcase, then back to Andulmaion. What in the stars had they gotten themselves into. She ran her hand along the outside cover of her book; an intricate swirling pattern had been worked into it. The cover looked soft, yet it was durable at the same time.

She ran her fingernail across the surface to feel its texture and was shocked to find that the cover had filed down a part of her nail. She looked to Andulmaion to tell him of her discovery, but he was devouring the book before him. Not wanting to interrupt, she turned back to her book. She opened the cover and flipped past the first few empty pages. When she got to the introduction page she almost couldn’t read the text. The letters were formed differently. The sentence structure wasn’t laid out as she’d expected. “Stars-stars-stars-stars-stars!” Analindë hissed under her breath.

It was written in a more ancient form of Elvish than the scrying book, and for the first time in her life she honestly felt grateful for the decades of language courses her parents had foisted upon her.

Within a few pages, Analindë was astounded. The type of transportation spell described was so vastly different from anything she had ever heard of that the possibilities it implied were staggering. Its basic concepts were so foreign that they opened up entire new ways of looking at Energy study. No wonder Andulmaion had backed away from it so quickly.

The book was fascinating and it was entertaining. It was a happy book and kept changing its tune from one courtly dance to another. She found it uplifted her heart, and it wasn’t long before her sadness had dissipated away completely.

She liked the book. Its basic premise was that one could travel from any point to another, the only restriction being if either of the places was shielded against this type of transport. It told of how some places were better for jumping—that was what this type of transportation was called—than others, and it told her how to find those places. It warned several times about becoming lost in the void if the place you were jumping to was shielded. She shuddered, remembering the weightless, drifting feeling she’d experienced in the void.

Those warnings were followed with lessons on etiquette, reminding the reader that it was not polite to arrive unannounced within someone’s home. If one lacked the courtesy to arrive some distance away from someone’s domicile, thereby giving notice of arrival, then one deserved to float in the void until they could be rescued. The author of the book had certainly had a wicked sense of humor.

She found her mind wandering, puzzling out the possibilities of the void. She wondered if she had enough experience to get herself out of the void on her own or if she’d be one of the ones who accidentally became stuck. At least she knew plenty about the void already; if she got lost, perhaps she’d be able to make her way out.

The book went on to state that these types of shields could last indefinitely unless they were otherwise taken down or destroyed. They could be keyed to work for or against specific people or families so one could transport into their own home but others couldn’t. It warned that one should keep up on who was feuding with whom so one wouldn’t accidentally become trapped at a prior friend’s home.

It spoke of the correct way to anchor and ground oneself before casting the spell; six evenly spaced anchor points, as if in the pattern of a star. And it told how to transport more than just oneself by anchoring and holding onto others when you jumped.

Analindë’s eyes were smarting by the time Andulmaion interrupted her, “Analindë come, we should get some lunch. Then I would show you what I have learned.” She was beyond tired; she’d spent all night searching for the Humans and all morning studying. The thought of food sounded wonderful, and then perhaps a brief nap?

She hadn’t realized she was ravenous; they zipped down to the kitchens to eat lunch and were back to the tower in record time. They’d declined hails from their friends, choosing to eat quickly by themselves.

Upon reaching the tower they headed directly into the workshop. Andulmaion sealed the doors behind him and said, “Watch.”

She shifted to magesight as he grounded and centered, then spun out a globe of Energy in brilliant red. “It’s beautiful.” She whispered in awe. The mastery and ease with which he spun energies made her efforts look clumsy in comparison. She slipped out of her magesight; the globe still glowed brightly before her but was significantly dimmer.

“You asked me how it drains Energy from something. Watch.” He directed his attention to a glass pyramid sitting on a nearby table. Its energies pulsed faintly.

He sent the red globe over to the triangular shape. It hovered and then it began to suck the Energy from the teaching aid as it grew larger with every particle it consumed.

It was not forceful. It did not attack. The pyramid’s Energy simply drifted outward without being touched.

“Can you shield from it?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t read that far; however, I can direct it toward something.
That,
I was not able to do before.”

“May I?” she asked as she flung a shield up in front of the object. She immediately realized her error when the Energy threads in her shield began fraying apart, flowing toward the globe Andulmaion had created. She mutated her shield to act in reverse, reflecting the Energy being drawn out of the pyramid back to itself and creating a hard, slick surface like glass that faced the blaze of his spell. Andulmaion grunted but she didn’t turn to watch him; she was too interested in what was happening with the pyramid.

Everything worked perfectly until the globe started shooting out sparks of Energy. Shattering her shield, it latched onto her Energy reserves as well as the pyramid’s and continued to draw. She yelped and collapsed as the globe drew on her Energy.

“Analindë!”

Andulmaion quickly dissolved the spell and knelt beside her a moment later. “Analindë, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop it at once. Are you all right?” She groaned and pushed herself to a seated position.

“Yes.” He helped her up. She said, “That’s quite a weapon. Did you see how it took time to figure out how to break through my shielding before it attacked? It’s amazing.”

She stretched a little; her muscles throbbed slightly in pain from her tussle with the globe. Although something else hurt worse within her, she couldn’t remember when that injury had happened. Oh, yes. It was from scrying the void. She started to hobble out of the room, but then she paused. Andulmaion was standing there, stunned. “It was the orb attacking me on its own, wasn’t it? It wasn’t you?”

“No, of course not.” He stumbled. “I mean, yes, it was the orb. Analindë, are you sure you’re okay? I’m so sorry.”

“I am fine Andulmaion. I will be better in just a moment. Come,” she grinned, “We have plans to make and no time to spare. I’ve discovered a way to transport us to the Humans. There is much to do before we leave.” She just hoped that it worked.