Chapter 7

When they had reached the first floor they turned and entered the library, which spanned nearly the entire length of the building. The checkered marble floor that they had first noticed upon entering the grand building extended on into the library and appeared to continue almost to the far end.
      Once again they were amazed by the sheer number of books present in that place; the actual count of them could hardly be guessed. Every shelf was filled to capacity and many of the shelves were obviously out of reach even to the tallest of men. These of course required the use of ladders, of which a number could be seen about the place.
      The frontmost portion of the library had only one storey, but after this there was an additional level in the form of a wide balcony that stretched along either side of the lengthy building. Room for such a balcony was copiously available owing to the exceptionally high ceiling on the first floor, so that even on the balcony one needed a ladder to reach the uppermost shelves. On the lower floor the shelves extended both along the walls and also crosswise in rows that were interrupted by a broad aisle running down the middle; rather smaller rows lined the balconies themselves.
      The balconies were reached by a pair of wooden staircases that angled down to meet in the middle of the front part of the library. This area was more open, for there were no bookshelves here except along the walls. Past several statues of beautiful, winged women the Elflings wandered before ascending the stairway on the left. Together they strolled at a leisurely pace along the balcony, for they were in no great hurry.
      ‘So many books,’ said Fifin. ‘Were I to spend my entire life in here reading them, still I would not finish them all.’
      ‘I am sure that even Raavan has not read half of them,’ said Falco. ‘Even so, having access to such a large collection of books would be very useful, for with a larger library you run a better chance of finding whatever it is you’re looking for.’
      ‘Yes, but finding the right book in a place like this could not be an easy proposition!’ replied Dannadar.
      ‘On the contrary, I would imagine that they’ve got them organised in some sensible fashion, so that like topics are all together,’ said Falco. ‘For example, here we have the map section.’ On the shelf before them sat many rolled-up parchments, and next to that was a table with several large maps spread upon it. Though they examined the map lying on top, all of the names looked foreign to them so that they could make neither heads nor tails of it. Under this they found another which at first glance appeared as foreign as the first, but as they continued to inspect it they eventually came across a name which they all recognised.
      ‘Here is the River Ethuir!’ said Dannadar. ‘We were there just a week ago.’
      ‘Then this must be Laurelindor over here, though it is not labeled on the map,’ Talen observed. ‘Now, where is Aberlaven?’
      ‘Here it is,’ said Falco with a long finger, ‘just inside this mountain range. The Seawall Mountains Raavan called them, though they also are not labeled.’
      ‘It looks such a short distance on the map,’ said Talen, ‘yet having travelled it as we just did I can confidently say that it is no small trek.’
      ‘Just imagine how long it must take to travel to some of these other places,’ said Dannadar. ‘I never would have believed the world was so big.’
      ‘I still don’t,’ said Fifin as he gazed at the far side of the map where Dannadar was running his finger along rivers and mountain ranges with names so strange he had difficulty pronouncing them.
      ‘What do you suppose is to be found in all of these wide lands?’ asked Dannadar with wonder. ‘What strange peoples and animals? And what terrible monsters, I wonder?’ Needless to say, memory of the Kragh was still very much with him.
      ‘Well,’ said Fifin, ‘if we do not here part company with Raavan then I think it is likely that we will get to see many of these places on our journeys.’
      ‘Yes, just as long as we do not get killed, lost, or trapped hopelessly in some dark tomb along the way,’ countered Talen.
      ‘Do not be so negative, Talen,’ said Falco. ‘It is better to be positive. If you have a positive attitude, you can do just about anything.’
      ‘Well, I am positive that I do not want to get lost in any of these places,’ said Fifin, ‘not without a map, anyway, and a powerful wizard.’
      ‘I doubt wizards can get lost,’ proclaimed Dannadar.
      ‘Raavan was certainly lost in the fens,’ Talen reminded him.
      ‘Actually, he did know that we were in the Glassie Fens,’ replied Falco. ‘He just did not know exactly where in the fens we were.’
      ‘I would call that being lost,’ said Fifin.
      ‘It does not matter,’ said Falco insistently. ‘We found our way out, just as we shall do if ever we are lost again—map or no map.’
      ‘Indeed,’ said Dannadar, who was rapidly tiring of the conversation. ‘Now let us see if we can lose ourselves in this library.’ And with that they went on, wandering slowly along the many aisles, now and again inspecting the odd title that caught the eye. It soon became apparent that not only were there many books in that place, but there were vastly many topics as well, most of them rather obscure, and it was hard for the Elflings to fathom an entire book on some of the highly specialised subjects which they encountered. They were reminded that there still were many things in the world beyond their experience, and if that did not immediately inspire in them a strong sense of adventure, still it planted the seeds that later would influence them in important ways.
      At regular points along the balcony they encountered a spiral staircase winding downward. At one of these they decided to descend from the balcony to explore the lower level. Dannadar, however, wanted to walk the entire length of the balcony before descending.
      ‘I’ll catch up with you later,’ he said to the others as they spiraled down the winding staircase. He then continued his tour of the balcony, one dusty aisle at a time, till he had seen so many rows of books that they all looked very much the same. He concluded that there was nothing more of interest to see there, and that he might just as well have joined the others downstairs.
      Just then he came to an aisle that was less well lit than the others, owing to the large window at the end having been covered up by a bookcase. In the middle of the aisle stood a small, rickety table and a single wooden chair, and in the chair sat a very elderly old man. The man was sitting perfectly still before a book that rest open upon the table—so still, in fact, that Dannadar was not entirely certain that the man was alive. He stood there a moment longer looking intently at the old man, wondering if perhaps he might instead be just a very life-like statue, till the elderly gentleman looked up from his book to return the Elfling’s gaze.
      ‘Hullo,’ said Dannadar after a start. He of course felt very awkward at having stared so long at the old man.
      ‘Well, hello there little one,’ replied the old man amicably. ‘You’re not lost, are you? A person of your size could easily lose himself in a place this large,’ he said with a friendly smile.
      ‘No, I don’t think I’m lost yet,’ chuckled Dannadar. Then looking around he added, ‘But this certainly is the biggest library I have ever seen. Indeed, there are more books here than I knew existed in all the world. I cannot fathom how much effort must have gone into their writing.’
      ‘Many lifetimes of toil you see around you,’ agreed the old man as he gazed dreamily about. ‘And it is of course most ironic that so very few of the authors represented here are yet alive.’
      ‘Why do you say that?’ Dannadar asked.
      ‘Well,’ the elderly gentleman went on, ‘people who write books often do so because they feel that it gives them some form of immortality , if you will, that their books remain behind to be read by others long after they themselves have perished.’
      ‘Hmmm,’ Dannadar pondered the old man’s words. ‘I am not sure that makes much sense,’ he decided.
      ‘Well, I am inclined to agree,’ said the old man: ‘You cannot achieve immortality through writing, any more than by leaving behind descendents. But I do believe that a writing can take on a life of its own. You see, what we have here is a vast repository of knowledge, a colony of ideas which can multiply and colonise other lands, other libraries,’ and then looking more directly at Dannadar, ‘other minds.’
      ‘Well,’ said Dannadar feeling a bit uneasy under the old man’s gaze, ‘if ideas are alive, as you say, then they could certainly live on much longer than those who write them down. Wouldn’t it be nice to be an idea then, rather than a mortal person?’
      The old man released the Elfling from his strangely powerful gaze. ‘In some ways we are—just collections of ideas, that is. Ideas inside a body: driving it, motivating it, even manipulating it. Perhaps it is the ideas that really are in control of us, rather than the other way around.’
      ‘Perhaps,’ said Dannadar, who was now feeling that the old man was rather a strange one and that he no longer wished to speak to him. Something about the old man’s presence made him feel uneasy, though when he thought about it later he could not quite put his finger on it. ‘Well, I must be moving along now, to find my companions don’t you know.’ As he walked away he watched the old man carefully, but the stranger had gone back to staring at his book, with not a word nor even a nod to acknowledge that the conversation was at an end.
      Well, that was a little strange , thought Dannadar to himself after several aisles. Soon he had come to another spiral staircase, which he used to descend to the main level. Before long he had found his companions, who were by now growing a little bored of the place and were moving more deliberately toward the far end of the building. Eventually they arrived at a massive wall with three dark passageways leading through it, two along the outer walls of the building and one in the centre. The passages themselves were lined with bookcases, but the books appeared even older than those in the main part of the library and many were draped with cobwebs. Down the central passage Talen led them.
      ‘I would presume that we now are moving into a much older part of the library,’ said Talen. ‘Perhaps this originally was the whole library and later it was extended by the construction of this great building about it.’ This did indeed appear to them to be the case as they wandered further into the dark hall, for the bookcases were old and dilapidated, and even the stonework was clearly of a much older origin.
      Very little light filtered in through the tiny windows in the outer walls, yet it was enough to safely see their way through the maze-like room, and to see that all they were likely to find here were yet more books, albeit older ones. Nevertheless, the lure of mystical, ancient knowledge had begun to take hold of them and they looked more closely at the titles of the books that stuck out nearest to the central aisle down which they walked.
      One of the works which caught Talen’s eye was labeled Of the Tolloquenta . Upon opening it he saw on its delicate leaves drawings of Elven-like faces, and from quickly skimming portions of the text he decided that the Tolloquenta were a race of Elves, probably very ancient, though he certainly had never heard of them before. ‘I wonder if they’ve a book on Elflings,’ he said aloud.
      ‘Possibly,’ said Dannadar. ‘But even if they did, you would never find it.’
      ‘You would just need to ask the librarian,’ said Falco.
      ‘If you could find him,’ snorted Dannadar. ‘And I doubt that even he knows this place well enough to find one book out of the countless numbers that are here.’ No sooner had he spoken these words, however, than a tall, elderly man emerged from one of the aisles not too far ahead of them and proceeded to walk in the opposite direction from the Elflings. He appeared to be carrying a stack of books and he walked in a calm, stately manner.
      ‘Excuse me, Sir,’ said Talen when he noticed the old man, thinking that perhaps this was the librarian that he sought. But the old man did not even seem to have heard him, for continuing down the main aisle he then turned abruptly down a very dark corridor on the left. The party walked along to where they had seen the old man turn, but when they looked down the corridor he was nowhere to be seen.
      ‘He has disappeared!’ said Fifin in utter amazement, for the way terminated at a dead end, and try though they might to divine a secret door or passage, they could find none. ‘I am sure that he turned down here,’ lamented the dumbfounded Elfling.
      ‘We all saw him go this way,’ Falco assured him. ‘There is something very fishy going on here.’
      At that moment a tall figure emerged from another aisle not far away. ‘There he is!’ exclaimed Dannadar as the old man turned to once again walk in the opposite direction from the Elflings, still laden with a thick stack of assorted books.
      ‘You there,’ Falco called to the old man, ‘may we have a word?’ But the elderly gentleman again ignored them entirely, and once again they were unable to find any trace of his person or passing when they looked down yet another aisle into which the old man had disappeared.
      ‘This is uncanny,’ said Fifin, and the others quite agreed, but there was nothing for it but to continue searching for the mysterious stranger, as no explanation of his queer disappearance seemed to be forthcoming.
      A third and final time the old man appeared to them in that dark and ancient section of the library, but this time as luck would have it he was approaching the bewildered Elflings rather than walking away from them. This time they clearly saw his face, and it was then that Dannadar realised that the stranger was the same old man whom he had encountered on the balcony just a short while ago. Though he appeared to gaze directly at Dannadar and the other apprehensive Elflings, no sign of recognition showed on his wrinkled face. Indeed, he did not seem to notice them at all, for though he walked through their very midst, all the while he stared straight ahead, neither pausing nor wavering in his path as one sidling through a crowd normally would do.
      But most uncanny of all was the manner in which he disappeared this time, for he did not turn down a dark corridor but simply vanished into thin air right before their eyes. Four or five strides past the gaping Elflings and poof! he was gone.
      This of course disturbed them greatly, and they became very eager to leave the library after this. Back toward the other end of the building they rushed, with the one thought of passing through the main doors and on into the courtyard for a breath of fresh air in the warm, reassuring sunlight.
      And so it was that they were rushing round a corner in the main section of the library beneath the balcony when Cilukar walked right into them. ‘O! Begging your pardons, young Masters,’ said he when he saw that he had nearly knocked Talen and Dannadar off their feet. They quickly assured the ugly butler that they were all unhurt by the unexpected collision, and they continued less briskly on their way as Cilukar hurried on in the opposite direction.
      ‘Now, what can Cilukar be doing in the library, I wonder? He does not strike me as a very scholarly fellow,’ said Fifin when they were a safe distance away.
      ‘Perhaps he was checking up on us,’ answered Talen. ‘Maybe Raavan sent him to make sure that we were not getting into any trouble.’
      Falco replied, ‘Or maybe he was spying on us for his own reasons. After all, he clearly was not acting on Raavan’s behalf when I caught him nosing around upstairs.’
      ‘Yes, but why would he want to spy on us?’ asked Dannadar. ‘What reason could he possibly have?’
      ‘None that I can think of,’ answered Falco. ‘But that Cilukar is a strange one, and I would put nothing past him. In fact, I would very much like to do some spying on him, just to see that he is not up to anything diabolical.’
      Just then, as they were rounding a corner near the end of the balconied section of the library Dannadar stopped short and pointed directly ahead. ‘Well, now you have your chance: there he is.’
      They saw then that Cilukar had somehow taken a more roundabout way to the front of the building, and yet had managed to reach it before they. They observed that he was glancing nervously about, as if to make certain that his presence in the library had not been unduly noticed, but he did not appear to see the Elflings who by then were crouched low behind a bookcase.
      ‘If he sees us following he will surely know that we are on to him,’ said Falco, ‘so let us just watch for a moment and see where he goes.’ To this they all agreed, and so they watched the hunchback as he ambled off toward the very end of the building, and all the while they did not stir from their hiding place. When he reached the foyer he did not ascend the stairs nor leave by the double doors, but rather turned to the left and shambled out of view. Now they quietly followed and when they reached the foyer they noticed for the first time that beneath the double marble staircases leading up to the second floor were two sets of granite stairs leading down into the basement. They peered down the left staircase, by which they reasoned Cilukar must have descended to the lower level. They saw no trace of the deformed servant, and so they decided to steal carefully into the basement.
      When they had reached the bottom of the stairs they found that the place was very basement-like indeed. No marble floors were to be found down here, and the walls were more roughly-hewn and the ceiling considerably lower than in the upper floors of the building. A central hallway confronted them, as well as two darker passages curving away to the left and the right. Down the central passage they went, for it was lit, however dimly, by the occasional wall-mounted torch.
      They crept along very quietly, for off of the main passage many doorways opened and they knew not whether Cilukar might have passed through one of these. Most of the chambers beyond those doorways appeared to be storage rooms of one kind or another, some containing old, cobwebby furniture, others with neatly stacked barrels and crates or racks of many bottles.
      Eventually they approached a doorway on the right from which they could hear a dull voice speaking. They moved quickly to the far side of the doorway and then crouched in the shadows; fortunately, the nearest torch was some distance away. Then they listened, and a voice reached their ears which sounded very familiar, for it belonged to Cilukar.
      ‘It sounds as if he is talking to himself,’ Dannadar whispered loudly to Talen.
      ‘Shhh!’ Falco whispered back at them. ‘Be quiet! And do not move—I am going to have a look around the corner. I shall be only a minute.’ With that Falco edged up to the doorway and slowly poked his head round the door frame. Raising an upright finger to his lips he again urged his companions to remain silent and then he slipped very stealthily into the room. He was gone for several minutes, during which time they continued to hear Cilukar talking alone, with just a brief interlude of humming.
      When he returned Falco seemed a bit disappointed. They moved off some way down the passage so that they could speak more freely.
      ‘Nothing devilish, I take it?’ Talen asked.
      ‘He is dipping candles,’ Falco replied. ‘And picking his nose.’
      ‘I wonder if he does that when he is preparing food,’ said Dannadar.
      ‘I think I’d rather not know,’ said Fifin.
      ‘Well, what now?’ asked Talen, but before any could answer they all had to duck into the shadows, for just then Cilukar emerged from the room and made off back down the hallway toward the stairs. They watched as he made his clumsy way to the end of the passage, and in the dim light they thought they saw him turn toward the left stairway.
      ‘Well, I suppose we could poke around here a bit more,’ said Falco.
      ‘That sounds good to me!’ replied Dannadar.
      And so they continued down the dimly lit hallway, peering briefly into each of the rooms that opened off to the left and right. Having seen nothing that especially intrigued them they eventually arrived at the very end of the passage, where they found a rough hewn staircase spiraling down into the darkness.
      ‘Well, that does not look very inviting,’ commented Fifin. ‘Who gets to go first?’
      ‘I will,’ Dannadar volunteered as he removed a burning torch from a nearby sconce. Down the spiraling stairs they all went, and they could see that once again they were in a very ancient part of the building, for the walls were of extremely rough hewn stone and the stairs were in such terrible shape that several of the companions nearly took a fall when a step turned out not to be where it was expected.
      Two turns round the spiral and the stair came to an end. Opening up before them was a wide corridor leading off into the cool darkness. Forward they went following Dannadar, who held the burning torch aloft. The hallway went only a short distance before rising a single step and then opening out into a wide hall with a low ceiling that was supported by many thick columns. Different sections of the hall were elevated one or two steps above the rest, and the columns were laid out in seemingly random fashion, so that all in all the layout of the place was a bit confusing.
      The hall was not entirely dark, for they could see in the distance several spots where a soft glow of light shone up out of the floor, and they were eager to investigate these. They soon found the source of the glowing lights, for located in various places about the hall were great black cauldrons, each sitting on a metal grating in the floor. Below some of these gratings were lit fires which provided heat to the cauldrons above. When the Elflings peered into them they saw that these several cauldrons all contained various cloudy, boiling liquids, some white, others of a variously bluish or reddish colour, but none of them at all identifiable. Several of the unlit cauldrons were also found to contain a concoction of some type, but these appeared inert and again they could not be identified by the company, for they did not have a familiar smell and no volunteer could be found to taste them.
      ‘Somehow I do not think this is dinner cooking in these pots,’ said Fifin.
      ‘It is probably just Ruthos, turning more gold into mud,’ said Fifin.
      ‘Or Erieth concocting some agent to produce a fouler-smelling smoke,’ said Falco.
      ‘You would think that wizards would try to find a practical use for their powers,’ said Dannadar shaking his head.
      ‘I am sure there is more to their work than we can readily appreciate,’ said Talen. ‘Things are not always as simple as they may seem.’
      ‘How true!’ agreed Dannadar. ‘And so perhaps this bloke Cilukar is not so diabolical either.’
      ‘I am not sure about that,’ said Falco doubtfully. ‘I still have a bad feeling about that fellow.’
      ‘Well, I suppose we could go spy on him some more,’ suggested Dannadar.
      ‘We could, unless you’ve a better idea,’ said Falco.
      ‘Well, now that you mention it, I would very much like to survey the gardens,’ Dannadar replied.
      ‘That is not a bad idea,’ said Talen. ‘After all, how much trouble could we get into just looking at flowers?’
       
       
      Back up the spiral staircase they went, leaving the mysterious boiling concoctions behind. When they reached the hallway above Dannadar replaced the torch he had borrowed back into its sconce and they all proceeded at a leisurely pace up the hallway toward the twin staircases. They had almost reached the chamber in which Falco had been observing Cilukar when out of the shadows on the left ran a large rat straight across the hallway and into a doorway on the right.
      ‘Well, now we know why Cilukar comes down here,’ said Falco. ‘He has the rats to keep him company.’
      ‘Maybe that is who he was talking to earlier,’ said Fifin.
      Just then they heard voices coming down the hall from the direction of the twin stairs.
      ‘Quick! Follow the rat,’ said Falco, and they all piled into what turned out to be yet another storage room. Behind the heaps of dust-laden furniture they crouched while Falco remained at the door to listen. One of the voices definitely belonged to Cilukar, but it was accompanied by another—Thobb, the stable boy, he thought. As the voices came closer Falco quietly joined his companions behind a stack of wooden chairs.
      ‘Them bloody rats have been eatin’ at the grain again, ’Lukar. Best get rid of ’em ’fore they get into the foodstuffs. Master Erieth won’t be happy if he finds the buggers swimmin’ in his beer, neither. Turn us both into rats, I shouldn’t wonder.’
      ‘But the rats don’t each much.’
      ‘Don’t matter how much they eat, ’Lukar! Can’t have rats swarmin’ all over the bloody place. Eat all the damn books, prob’ly, and then what’ll the Masters read?’
      The voices trailed off then and Falco moved to the doorway once more to see that the way was clear. When he saw that it was he whispered to the others to follow him out.
      ‘Wait,’ said Fifin, ‘there is a passageway back here!’ In the back wall of the storeroom he had found a low portal leading into a dingy stairway which looked even more ancient and crumbling than the one which had led them to the level below. This one however did not spiral down, but lead outward beyond the outer walls of the building above, judging from the dimensions of the storeroom.
      ‘Let me see,’ said Dannadar. Soon all the Elflings were crowded about the small opening, but they could see no more than two or three steps down because their only light was that which filtered in from the hallway outside the room. Out into the hallway Dannadar ran after checking briefly for any sign of the two servants. Seeing none he snatched the nearest torch and rushed back into the crowded room.
      Down the crumbling stairway they went, Dannadar once again leading the way as the enthusiastic torch bearer. The stairs went on for quite some distance, and they knew instinctively that they had gone fairly deep into the earth; certainly deeper than the hall where they found the cauldrons. As they descended the air became very musty and they were kept busy cleaning the sticky webs from their faces and out of their hair. When finally they arrived at the bottom they were greeted by an iron door. Though it looked in the torchlight as if it had once been a very strong and imposing barrier it was so very ancient that they half expected it to disintegrate when they pushed on it. Push on it they did however, and except for the hesitancy of its rusty hinges it offered little in the way of resistance.
      The room they entered was very dirty with layers of dust deeper than any they had ever seen. The ceiling was exceptionally low; so low in fact that even the Elflings would have had to crouch had it been just a few inches lower.
      In the exact centre of the room was a large sarcophagus. Unlike that in the tomb of Folláineádlan, however, this coffin was unadorned, being crudely fashioned from several large slabs of rock. No inscription could they find and so no identity could they attribute to the person buried within.
      ‘Surely Raavan must know of this tomb,’ said Talen. ‘Perhaps he knows who occupies the coffin. Then again, perhaps not. There must be untold numbers of coffins lying in the ground across Entira, their occupants having gone long ago out of living memory.’
      ‘I think we have seen all there is to see down here,’ said Dannadar. ‘Let us go back up now. The air is awful down here. Are the rest of you as eager as I am for a breath of fresh air?’
      In fact they were all quite eager for air and sunlight, having now spent considerably more time underground than Elflings are normally accustomed. And so they all went back up to the main level and out the grand double doors into the bright courtyard.
      When they emerged outside the westering sun told them that it was now late afternoon and that they had only a few hours more before dark. They decided to spend that time out of doors, for Elflings do not like to be closeted up for long hours inside; not when the weather is as fine as it was that day.
      ‘I say, the flower gardens here are quite exceptional,’ observed Dannadar, and all of the others were compelled to agree, for the variety of flowers that grew in the courtyard at Aberlaven was truly impressive by any standards. They saw several species that they immediately recognised from home and quite a few that looked familiar from their journey across Aresse, but there were many others that were yet wholly new to them so that even Fifin was drawn irresistibly into the gardens. And not only interesting flowers did they see, but also many strange and wonderful insects. There were bumblebees with fur striped red and yellow, and large moths that looked like hummingbirds, complete with a lengthy proboscis for sipping nectar and wings that beat faster than the eye could follow. Talen found a preying mantis so large that he would not have been surprised to see it catch a small bird.
      The courtyard was quite large and the gardens were spread all across it, each garden being quite small by itself. They formed almost a checkered pattern across the courtyard, but with stone-lined paths around and between the individual plots. The courtyard itself consisted of several tiers, with one large tier lying between the two main buildings and several others one or two steps above or below this main level. Those along the eastern edge were among the most elevated, and these attracted Falco and Talen while Fifin and Dannadar wandered together through some of the lower-lying plots.
      When he had reached the easternmost tier Talen found that he was able to see over the edge of the hill on which Aberlaven was built, and as he peered down into the adjoining valley he noticed that there was a large and beautiful mountain lake with a handful of tiny islands dotting it. A red-winged hawk soared high over the lake, its occasional raspy call reaching the Elfling’s ears on the cool wind.
      Talen decided to sit on the edge of the courtyard and gaze out over the valley, for the air was crystal clear and he found the scenery very relaxing. A series of rolling hillocks and rocky ledges bordered the lake and among these Talen espied a modest footpath snaking its way round a large portion of that serene body of water. As his eyes roamed along the footpath they came at length to something which was moving slowly along it: the bent figure of a man hobbling along on his way from Aberlaven, though not yet very distant from it. It was Cilukar.
      ‘Falco!’ called Talen. Immediately the other Elfling came, as did Dannadar and Fifin when they saw the two standing along the upper tier and pointing down the other side of the hill.
      ‘What are you chaps on to now?’ Dannadar asked when he arrived. Talen pointed to the figure on the trail below and they all saw for themselves that it was the hunchbacked servant of Aberlaven.
      ‘Where is he going?’ asked Fifin.
      ‘Who knows?’ replied Dannadar. ‘Perhaps to fish in the lake?’
      ‘This late in the day?’ said Falco. ‘I doubt it.’
      ‘Well, perhaps we should follow him and find out,’ Dannadar suggested.
      ‘It will be hard to remain unseen should he decide to turn around, though I suppose we could sprint from ledge to ledge,’ said Falco, now shading his eyes to observe the position of the sun in the west. ‘We’ve only an hour or so before dark.’
      ‘Then at least the failing light will help us to avoid being seen,’ offered Talen, who had started to become as intrigued as the others in the strange behaviour of the hideous butler.
      They decided why not? and made their awkward way down the grassy slope of the hill until they reached the footpath below. This they followed quickly, for by now Cilukar was far ahead of them and they wished to catch up and observe the strange man before it became too dark. Already they were in the shadow of the great hill from which they had just descended and soon the sun would begin to fall below the several peaks that lay to their west.
      Along the path they hurried, over one hillock, then two hillocks, past a rocky outcropping, and then round a corner where the path levelled off for some ways. Then began a series of windings that brought them alternately closer and further away from the lakeshore. Around one more steep bank they went, and then they saw him: several hundred yards ahead he was, and still headed away from Aberlaven.
      ‘He shows no sign of stopping,’ said Talen. ‘I think we had better turn back before it gets dark.’
      ‘No, look!’ exclaimed Dannadar. ‘He is climbing up toward that cave!’ Up a stony bank the deformed man was scrambling toward an opening that yawned in the side of a steep, rocky hill. Reaching it he went inside and then was seen no more.
      It was of course hard for them to turn back just then, having come so far and now having the hunchback’s destination within their sight. So they doubled their pace, nearly running over the unfamiliar trail, with many a trip and a stumble, and a right tricky business it was negotiating the rough path in the failing light.
      Only minutes later they reached the cave, but they were all huffing and puffing from their hurried excursion and they realised that they needed to find a hiding place nearby in which to catch their breath and decide how to proceed. Unfortunately, no such place could be seen. So they continued running along the trail some distance past the cave till the path ran out along a ledge with a fall on the one side and a stand of mountain pines on the other. They installed themselves just behind the first line of trees, sitting on the needle-padded ground to catch their breath and all the while keeping a close watch on the mouth of the cave which soon would be engulfed in darkness.
      ‘We cannot stay here long,’ said Falco. ‘If he does not come out before dark we shall have to return, for even were we to stay on after that we would have no way of knowing when he left.’
      ‘That is, if he leaves at all,’ said Dannadar. ‘I would not be surprised if that one sleeps in a cave. He certainly is dirty enough.’
      Moments passed and still their man did not appear. Up on the great hill to the west they could see the twin buildings of Aberlaven silhouetted against the evening sky. They watched as the silhouettes disappeared and tiny points of light sprang up to mark the windows in which candles had been lit. The darkness about them was nearly complete and they knew they had a long, rocky trail to navigate. They gave up.
      Back up the trail they began to march, picking their way very slowly to avoid being tripped up by the many rocks that reached up out of the ground in search of careless feet. They had gone only a short distance when a light suddenly sprang up just ahead, only a little ways up the hill on the left. Freezing in their tracks they became part of the night.
      In the darkness they could see Cilukar standing at the mouth of the cave, a lantern in one hand and a thick book in the other. Down the rocky bank he scrambled clumsily till he reached the footpath below, just a short distance ahead of where the companions stood watching. When they saw that he was returning to Aberlaven they all breathed a sigh of relief, for they had escaped detection. If the strange butler was up to something devious, they reasoned, there was no way of telling what he might do were he to discover the party following him, and deformed though he was there was obviously great strength in his gnarled, sinewy limbs.
      Up the trail the companions continued for a short while longer till they came to the stony bank which they knew lay at the base of the cave. Then they had to make up their minds: would they follow Cilukar back to Aberlaven, or would they instead investigate the hunchback’s hideout?
      ‘How are we to explore a cave in the dark?’ asked Dannadar. ‘I am reluctant even to walk this trail at night and we have already navigated that once. Sticking one’s neck into a strange hole in the pitch black of night seems hardly prudent, if you ask me.’
      ‘Perhaps there is another lantern inside,’ suggested Fifin.
      Meanwhile their quarry went up the trail, the light of his lantern receding further and further away. In the end they decided to poke around inside the cave for a bit, reasoning that if it was safe enough for a clumsy fool like Cilukar then the danger could not be too great for them. If they could find a torch or a lantern they would try to ignite it and then continue their exploration in its light. Otherwise they would have to keep their visit short and come back first thing in the morning.
      And so up the stony bank they scrambled till they reached the mouth of the grotto. So dark was it that they could barely tell when they had entered the cavity save by the sounds of the nocturnal insects and other nightly noises that they left behind. The cave extended some ways back into the hill and they were forced to feel their way, which was very awkward indeed. However, they soon found a small recess open up on their left, which housed a simple wooden bench. On the bench, much to their surprise and pleasure they found a box of old torches and a flint and steel with which to light them. This of course they did and with two lit torches they were much better able to find their way deeper into the den.
      Almost immediately beyond the alcove the tunnel narrowed considerably so that they went single file, with Falco in the lead. The narrow passageway turned abruptly to the left and then again to the right before opening out into a small chamber which had been worked somewhat to render it more squarish. In one corner was a simple bed and lining the walls were rudimentary benches consisting of wooden beams supported by piles of rocks. On the benches were many haphazardly placed books, some left lying open, others stacked two and three high with bits of paper or even dried leaves stuck in them to act as bookmarks.
      ‘It looks like Cilukar has been coming out here to read,’ said Fifin.
      ‘Yes, but what is he reading?’ Talen picked up one of the books and read its title: ‘Dhes Tefat e Rúlatár .’ Another was ‘Huulf Úvar .’ Flipping through the pages he saw that it was written not only in a language that was foreign to him, but in words that sounded vile when they were read aloud.
      ‘Please do not read any more of that, Talen,’ said Falco. ‘It is vulgar to my ears.’
      ‘And to mine as well,’ agreed Talen.
      There was very little apart from the books for them to investigate: a few small bones and bits of food lay next to the bed, but that was it. It did appear that Cilukar’s only business in the cave involved books—books from the library at Aberlaven, almost surely.
      ‘But why tramp all the way out here just to read?’ asked Dannadar.
      ‘Perhaps he likes the peace and quiet of the cave,’ said Fifin.
      ‘It was pretty quiet in the library as I recall,’ replied Dannadar.
      Clearly, they could not resolve the mystery that night. Indeed, even that there was a mystery at all could not be agreed upon. Clearly, Cilukar was a strange person who read strange books in a cave, but whether and why he had been spying on the wizards at Aberlaven, and whether the strange books had anything to do with his clandestine activities was not entirely clear. At the very least they decided that Cilukar was more than just a deformed simpleton and they began to wonder if there was perhaps more to the unsightly servant than met the eye.
      Nothing remained for them to do in the dirty little cave, so they made ready to head back. Talen took one last look at the pair of books he held in his hands, reading the titles over several times in his mind. He decided he would at least enquire with Raavan concerning the subject matter of these two works, just to satisfy his own curiosity.
      And so they made their way back to Aberlaven, this time slowly and with the light of their twin torches so that there was very little stumbling and virtually no stubbed toes. When finally they climbed the hill back up to the courtyard they found that Thobb the stable boy was waiting for them.
      ‘Master Raavan has been lookin’ for ya,’ said the youth when they greeted him. They encountered the wizard themselves after they had gone inside and were climbing slowly up the stairs.
      ‘My good friends,’ said the wizard when he met them on his way down to the first floor. ‘I am afraid our paths must part in the morning. I have an urgent task in distant lands that I am afraid will involve some danger. I cannot ask you to follow me.’
      ‘Of course we will follow you, Raavan,’ Talen replied.
      ‘We would follow you to the ends of the Earth!’ cried Fifin.
      ‘Well, where I am going is not quite as bad as the end of the Earth,’ replied the wizard, ‘but it will certainly involve some unpleasantness and I would spare you gentle folk that.’
      ‘We are perhaps not as gentle as you may think,’ replied Falco with some indignation, his bow in hand and his quiver full of arrows much in evidence behind his shoulder.
      The wizard bowed. ‘My humble apologies. That you are brave and fearsome warriors I have no doubts. And I would gladly have your company for the road ahead, for a trying road it is certain to be, and as worthy companions you have proved yourselves. I am thinking only of your safety, and particularly the well-being of the younger ones among you—Dannadar and Fifin—for this is no spring jaunt that I embark upon now. Are you sure you wish to place yourselves in danger by joining me?’
      ‘If we are to be in danger, Raavan, then it is in your company that we would most like to be,’ said Dannadar, ‘—and in which we would be safest, I am sure!’
      ‘So be it, then,’ replied the wizard. ‘If you are resolved on this issue then I will not reject your offer of assistance, for assistance I may well need before all is done. But now you must sup and retire to your beds, for we depart early in the morning, before even the sun is awake.’ He turned then and began to hurry back up the stairs.
      ‘Can you at least tell us where we are going?’ Dannadar shouted after him.
      ‘Ilimath ,’ came the answer, and then, ‘Thobb will see that you are fed and shown to your rooms!’ And then he was gone.
      ‘Well, I guess we are in for a longer adventure after all,’ Fifin said after they watched the wizard disappear around the corner at the top of the stairs.
      ‘I just hope we are all able to return from it,’ said Talen.
      ‘We will,’ Falco replied. ‘Trust me.’