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Authors: Terry Brooks

BOOK: A Princess of Landover
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Mistaya tiptoed backward as swiftly as she could to where the shelving unit ended and flattened herself against the wall. She held her breath until she heard the door close, then stayed where she was for another few minutes before moving silently away.

When she got back to Thom, he asked, “Any luck?”

“I didn’t ask,” she told him. She gave him a shrug and what she hoped was a disarming grin. “He was busy with something else.”

S
he thought about the conversation between His Eminence and Pinch for the rest of the afternoon. She was still thinking about it at dinner that night, sitting with Thom, and later when she went to bed.

But when Thom woke her at midnight, leaning close and gently shaking her shoulder until she came awake, it was all forgotten.

“Shhh!” he whispered, putting a finger to his lips. “No talking, no noise at all!”

She was already dressed as she rolled out of her bed and slipped on her boots. The room was dark except for a sliver of moonlight that slanted down through the single high, narrow window on the east wall. She straightened her clothing, retightened her belt, and gave him a nod. He handed her one of the two glow sticks he was carrying, but she didn’t light it. By previous agreement, they would work their way into the Stacks in the dark and light the glow sticks when they could no longer see at all.

They slipped from her bedroom with Thom leading the way, their footfalls virtually noiseless in the deep silence. The hallway beyond was empty and dark, and they passed down it without seeing or hearing anything or anyone. When they reached the Stacks, Thom held up his hand for a moment while he studied the larger room carefully. She listened as well, but heard nothing. When both were satisfied that it was safe, they slipped from the shadows of the hallway into the cavernous silence of the Stacks.

In the dark upper reaches of the room, something scurried along the beams and was gone. Mistaya exchanged a hurried glance with Thom, but he shook his head. Whatever was up there wasn’t interested in them.

They crossed the open space to the beginning of the shelving aisles and started for the back of the room.

Somewhere behind them, a door opened and closed on squeaky hinges, the sound echoing in the deep silence.

They froze as one, halfway down the aisle at the first set of shelves, eyes peering back over their shoulders, waiting. Mistaya quit breathing for long moments, certain that someone was about to appear. But no one did, and the sound of the squeaking hinges did not come again. They continued to wait, not wanting to make a mistake, to take an unnecessary or foolish risk. If either one decided to call it off, they had agreed, the other would not argue. They would simply wait and try another time.

Finally, long moments later, they looked at each other and nodded wordlessly. The hunt would go on.

Back into the darkness they crept, moving carefully between shelving units that had the feel of confining walls. The small amount of moonlight let in by the high windows at the front of the room slowly faded behind them, leaving the darkness thicker and more impenetrable. At last they could see almost nothing, and they had to feel their way ahead by using the shelves as guide rails.

When the last of the light dimmed to nothing more than a distant glimmer, Thom brought them to a stop. They still hadn’t reached the back wall, and there was no indication that they would anytime soon.

“We have to use the glow sticks,” he whispered in her ear. “Remember. They only last for two hours, so we have to get back before time runs out.”

She nodded that she understood. Together they broke off the tips, and a soft, golden glow spread away in a pool of light that extended about six feet from each bearer. The way forward made clear, they started ahead once more.

By now, Mistaya thought, they must have covered several hundred yards. But that was impossible. The Stacks couldn’t be that deep. There had to be magic at work, and she wondered who had set it in place and why. She reached out for its source, but couldn’t find it. She also wondered at the blackness of the space. She seemed to remember from her work in the daytime that windows on both walls extended back for as far as she could see. Why weren’t those windows permitting any moonlight to enter the room? She knew the moon was full and the sky clear that night. Was the magic that made the room seem so much larger also blocking the light and cloaking the room in shadows?

Time slipped away, and still they didn’t find the back wall. Mistaya began to grow impatient—and more than a little uneasy.

Finally, Thom brought them to a halt once more. “We need to start back,” he whispered in her ear. His face was so close she could feel the heat of his body. “The glow sticks are half gone.”

“Why is it taking so long?” she hissed.

“I don’t know. It didn’t take this long before. It took much less time. Something is wrong.”

“I think it’s magic that’s making us think the room is much larger and the way much longer!” She hesitated. “I know a little about how it works.”

To his credit, he didn’t ask for an explanation. “You want to go on?”

“For a little longer. I think we can find our way back.”

They pushed on, their sense of urgency growing exponentially. Mistaya wasn’t certain how much longer they could search, but she didn’t want to give up until she absolutely had to. Thom, she sensed, wouldn’t quit before she did, no matter what. His pride wouldn’t let him. He was the older and stronger of the two; he would tough it out for as long as she did.

Then, all of a sudden, she heard the voice.

Help me! Help me!

From the way Thom drew up short, his body going rigid, she knew that he had heard it, too.

“Just ahead!” she whispered encouragingly, even though she wasn’t at all sure that this was so.

But then she felt the pressure from whatever it was that had gripped Thom two weeks earlier, a sucking at the air about her that gripped her and held her fast, pulling her forward. She saw Thom lurch and stumble, his arms flailing. They collapsed in a tangle of limbs, grasping first at each other and then at the shelving units, trying unsuccessfully to get hold of something as they skidded along the floor and down the aisle. Whatever was pulling them forward was more powerful than she had expected, an irresistible force she could not fight against. She tried to get into a kneeling position, yet the force not only pulled her relentlessly ahead but held her down. The glow stick flew from her hand and was lost. She almost lost her grip on Thom, but just barely managed to hang on to one of his strong legs.

Ahead, a huge blackness hove into view, a tunnel of such impenetrable
darkness that it looked as if it would swallow them whole. In that moment, she thought they were lost. So much so that she began to summon her magic in a last-ditch attempt to save them.

But Thom, resourceful as always, finally managed to grab hold of a leg of one of the shelving units and pull them both over to huddle against the heavy structure, anchoring them in place against the sucking force. She heard a sound like breathing, deep and powerful, and the force increased. But Thom held them fast, refusing to give in to it. She pressed herself against him, tucking her head against his leg, her face flattened to the worn wooden floor of the room.

Which was when she felt the sudden flush of warmth against her face. She jerked away in surprise, but then pressed down again with her cheek to make sure. The floor was pulsing softly, a sensation that was unmistakable. There was a life force embedded in the wooden boards. She felt the beating of its heart, and the entire experience was suddenly so familiar that she could hardly believe it. She knew what this was! She had known since she was a child!

It was Sterling Silver, the castle that cared for and nurtured the Kings and Queens of Landover and their families. It sheltered and protected them against the elements and enemies alike. It warmed them when they were cold and cooled them when they were hot. It provided them with food and clothing. It could determine their physical needs and to a very large extent satisfy them.

It was her home!

But how could that be? Sterling Silver was a sentient being formed of magic-infused materials, and it was the only one of its kind. Was it really the castle’s life force she was feeling? If so, how had it found its way here when it was rooted in the bedrock of the island on which it had been built?

The glow stick that Thom held went out, and they were left in blackness. The sucking force continued to pull at them for a long time after that, but finally it eased into a soft breathing and then ceased altogether. Mistaya and Thom lay together, listening to the silence, waiting for something more. Mistaya kept her face pressed to the floor, but the warmth she had felt earlier was fading away.

Don’t go
, she thought.
Don’t leave me
.

But there was nothing she could do to make it stay, and seconds later it was gone.

She sat up again cautiously, placing her back against the shelving unit that had served as an anchor, the darkness deep and unbroken all around. The warmth she had felt in the floor and the pulsing of the life that had created it had both disappeared.

Mistaya could not understand. What had just happened?

“I think we should quit for tonight,” Thom said softly, a disembodied voice in the black.

“I suppose so,” she agreed. She was silent a moment, and then she said, “Thom, did you feel anything in the floor?”

She could hear him sitting up next to her. “Like what?”

“A pulsing, a warmth?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was busy trying to hold on to the shelving so we wouldn’t be sucked down into that tunnel. Did you feel all that? The pulsing and the warmth?”

She wasn’t sure what to say now. “I might have been mistaken,” she answered. “I was pretty scared.”

He laughed quietly. “So was I. It wasn’t any easier this time, even knowing what to expect. But I won’t give up if you won’t.”

She reached out and squeezed his arm. “You know I won’t give up. Thanks for sticking with me.”

They rose and began groping their way back down the aisle, using the edges of the shelves to guide them, careful to keep together in the deep gloom. They didn’t speak of what had happened, knowing it was better to wait until later. Mistaya wondered how much time had passed. If magic had obscured distance and light, it could have obscured time, as well. It could have obscured everything they had experienced. Nothing might have been what they thought it was.

Yet she couldn’t dismiss the strong feeling of recognition that had flooded through her. She wasn’t mistaken about that, but she didn’t know what it meant. Was she sensing the presence of her home? Had Sterling Silver reached out to her somehow? Was it a
warning that something was wrong at home? Or perhaps it wasn’t the castle at all. Perhaps it was Libiris she was feeling. But if so, why did it feel like it was alive?

Those questions, in turn, made her wonder anew about the voice. Exactly who was it that was calling?

They had almost reached the front of the Stacks and Mistaya was thinking of how good it was going to feel to sleep when a hunched figure appeared abruptly in their path, and a familiar wizened face lifted into the pale wash of the moonlight.

“Out for a little nighttime walk, are we?” asked Rufus Pinch with a visible sneer.

“We were just …,” Mistaya began.

“Just looking for …,” Thom picked up.

Pinch held up both hands. “Doing what you were expressly forbidden to do. That’s what you were doing! Well, now you’re going to have to pay the price for your disobedience, aren’t you? His Eminence will know how to deal with you!”

Mistaya felt her heart sink. She had ruined everything.

“Off to your rooms!” Pinch ordered, making shooing motions with his hands. “Don’t even think of trying to do anything else. Lock yourselves in and remain there until sunrise. Then report to His Eminence first thing. Now go! Get!”

Obediently, Mistaya and Thom headed out of the Stacks. Mistaya was miserable. She would be sent home for certain. In all likelihood, Thom would be punished in some equally unpleasant way. And it was all because of her.

“Don’t worry,” Thom declared cheerfully as they parted for the night.

“I won’t,” she promised. But of course, she already was.

She reached her bedroom sunk in a miasma of gloom and dark thoughts, opened the door, and nearly jumped with fright when a tall, gangly figure seated on the edge of her bed abruptly stood.

“Hello, Mistaya,” said Questor Thews, and held out his hands in greeting.

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