A Traitor in Skyhold Mage Errant Book 3 John

Bierce Bierce John install download

https://ebookmeta.com/product/a-traitor-in-skyhold-mage-errant-
book-3-john-bierce-bierce-john/

Download more ebook from https://ebookmeta.com

We believe these products will be a great fit for you. Click
the link to download now, or visit ebookmeta.com
to discover even more!

Can Such Things Be 1st Edition Ambrose Bierce

https://ebookmeta.com/product/can-such-things-be-1st-edition-
ambrose-bierce/

The Execution of John Varnum Mecklenburg Book 3 Olin

Lester

https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-execution-of-john-varnum-
mecklenburg-book-3-olin-lester/

Nowhere But North John Margaret Book 3 1st Edition

Nicole Clarkston

https://ebookmeta.com/product/nowhere-but-north-john-margaret-
book-3-1st-edition-nicole-clarkston/

CorkScrew Solutions Learn the 4 Step Process ALL Great

Leaders Use to Solve Impossible Problems Ching

https://ebookmeta.com/product/corkscrew-solutions-learn-
the-4-step-process-all-great-leaders-use-to-solve-impossible-
problems-ching/
Death Among the Undead Masahiro Imamura

https://ebookmeta.com/product/death-among-the-undead-masahiro-
imamura/

Wireless and Mobile Networking 1st Edition Mahbub

Hassan

https://ebookmeta.com/product/wireless-and-mobile-networking-1st-
edition-mahbub-hassan/

Ageing and Technology Perspectives from the Social

Sciences Emma Domínguez-Rué (Editor)

https://ebookmeta.com/product/ageing-and-technology-perspectives-
from-the-social-sciences-emma-dominguez-rue-editor/

Shakespeare and Gender Sex and Sexuality in Shakespeare

s Drama 1st Edition Kate Aughterson

https://ebookmeta.com/product/shakespeare-and-gender-sex-and-
sexuality-in-shakespeare-s-drama-1st-edition-kate-aughterson/

Introductory Chemistry, 7th Edition in SI Units Tro

N.J.

https://ebookmeta.com/product/introductory-chemistry-7th-edition-
in-si-units-tro-n-j/
365 Ideas for Recruiting Retaining Motivating and
Rewarding your Volunteers Revised 2nd Edition Sunny
Fader

https://ebookmeta.com/product/365-ideas-for-recruiting-retaining-
motivating-and-rewarding-your-volunteers-revised-2nd-edition-
sunny-fader/
 Contents
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE Docks
CHAPTER TWO Unwelcome Revelations
CHAPTER THREE Class
CHAPTER FOUR Eccentric Faculty
CHAPTER FIVE Intermediate Library Filing Skills
CHAPTER SIX Gifts
CHAPTER SEVEN Silence and Sand
CHAPTER EIGHT Fatigue
CHAPTER NINE An Unpleasant Surprise
CHAPTER TEN The Hidden Valley
CHAPTER ELEVEN Motives
CHAPTER TWELVE The Owl Returns
CHAPTER THIRTEEN Sand, Stone, and Crystal
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Shield
CHAPTER FIFTEEN Dragon Bones
CHAPTER SIXTEEN Obsidian
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Arrivals
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Midwinter
CHAPTER NINETEEN Narrowing the Field
CHAPTER TWENTY Long Overdue Explanations
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Starfire
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Thrones
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Ilinia Kaen Das
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Setting the Stage
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Departures
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Return to the Labyrinth
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN Twists and Turns
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Imps
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE Race to the Top
CHAPTER THIRTY Out of the Labyrinth
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE Wreck the Halls
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO Confrontations
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE The Council Broken
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR Bakori Ascends
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE Don't Forget to Chew Your Food
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX Breathing Room
 This one goes out to r/fantasy. If it weren’t for that wonderful
bunch of nerds, I wouldn’t be getting to write about wizards for a
living.
 CHAPTER ONE
Docks
Hugh of Emblin was, unfortunately, very easy to embarrass. It
took remarkably little to turn him bright red.
His girlfriend, to Hugh’s regret, delighted in doing exactly that.
Avah took her time in kissing Hugh goodbye, ignoring the catcalls
and whistles from the crew of the Moonless Owl, as well as a few
dockworkers. Not to mention his friends, the traitors.
Avah finally ended the kiss. “I’ll see you in a couple months, when
the Owl stops by Skyhold again,” she said.
Hugh just nodded, still blushing. Avah hugged him again, then
turned to climb back aboard the sandship.
Sabae, Talia, and Godrick joined Hugh at the edge of the dock as
the Owl ’s mages called up winds to carry them out into the desert.
Alustin hadn’t been able to make it out to see the ship off with them
— he’d needed to meet with the Skyhold Council about something,
and the meeting had been running for hours already. The
apprentices watched the sandship sail away until it crested a dune
and dipped out of sight.
The Moonless Owl had arrived back at Skyhold several days ago.
Classes weren’t supposed to resume for another few days (not that
Alustin had ever stopped training them over the summer), so they’d
taken the opportunity to show Avah, and Godrick’s more-than-
friends-but-not-quite-boyfriend Irrick around Skyhold, while the rest
of the crew loaded and unloaded cargo.
They’d spent the rest of the summer following the incident in
Theras Tel traveling across the Endless Erg. The Moonless Owl had
visited port cities along its edges, hidden oases deep inside mazes of
rock, and ancient ruins jutting out of the massive dunes.
 The highlight had probably been their encounter with Chelys Mot,
a turtle that dwarfed even the sphinx Kanderon Crux. The only larger
creatures Hugh had ever seen were the dragon Indris Stormbreaker
and her mate Ataerg— or at least Ataerg’s corpse. The immense
turtle had been surprisingly friendly, and quite willing to tell them a
great many stories over the couple of days they’d spent visiting with
him.
Watching the great turtle swim away through the dunes like they
were water had been fairly astonishing.
To Hugh’s great relief, the summer had been, after Theras Tel,
largely dragon-free. There had been a couple sightings of dragons
flying in the distance, but none had approached the sandship.
Even Talia had finally started to get a handle on her seasickness,
and she had actually started to enjoy herself.
Spending time with Avah had been the highlight of Hugh’s
summer, though. Even if she did delight in embarrassing him. And
even if her family— especially her grandmother— enjoyed it even
more.
Talia kicked Hugh’s boot after a minute or two of watching the
dune the Owl had passed over.
“Are we just going to stand here all day?” the short redhead
demanded. Unlike the other three, she hadn’t managed to tan at all
in the desert sun, just burning whenever she forgot a hat. Ironically,
the blue spellform tattoos all over her body didn’t do anything to
protect her from sunburn, despite being intended to enhance fire
magic and protect her from the same.
“Give him a second,” Sabae said, rolling her eyes. The tall girl’s
branching scars stood out more than usual with her tan— she’d been
dark-skinned to start with, but she was almost as dark as Godrick
now, and her lightning scars were now visible from a considerable
distance away. Her hair had gotten even lighter in the desert sun,
and you could hardly tell that it wasn’t white except when up close.
“I think he’s still recovering from that kiss.”
Godrick chuckled at that. The massive youth’s goodbye with Irrick
had been considerably more circumspect than Hugh and Avah’s.
Somehow, he’d put on even more muscle over the summer, and
Hugh was fairly sure he’d grown in height a little bit as well.
Hugh, of course, was as short as ever. At least he was still taller
than Talia.
“It’s fine,” Hugh said, rolling his eyes. “I’m feeling hungry,
anyhow.”
The four of them wandered back through the crowded dockyard.
There were a couple dozen other sandships in the docks, many of
which were offloading other students returning to Skyhold for the
new school year.
Hugh eyed a couple of students that looked rather confused and
uncertain as they debarked from a large three-runnered sandship
nearby. He was tempted to offer to help them find their way,
remembering how lost he’d been when he first arrived at Skyhold.
It’d taken him nearly an hour to work up the courage to ask for
directions. Before Hugh could start towards the new students,
however, an older mage debarked the ship and lead them away.
“Me da’s supposed ta be back before classes start back up,”
Godrick said.
“I’m already feeling the bruises,” Hugh muttered. Godrick’s father,
Artur Wallbreaker, was even bigger than Godrick, and he had a habit
of cheerfully slapping people’s backs hard enough to wind them. And
cheerfully hugging them until they thought their ribs would crack.
And nearly crushing their hands when he cheerfully shook them.
Talia snorted. “Your dad would fit right in with Clan Castis,” she
said. “Apart from being three sizes too large, at least.”
Along with their reputations as deadly fire mages and belligerent
warmongers, Talia’s clan were also notoriously short.
Hugh knew better than to suggest a link between their height and
belligerence, though. At least around Talia.
“He’s a perfectly reasonable height, yer all just way too short,”
Godrick said.
Sabae coughed pointedly.
“Well, Sabae’s only a little too short,” Godrick said.
Talia kicked Godrick’s shin.
 The foursome bickered cheerfully as they wound their way
through the crowded docks. Sabae suggested they cut across the
sand to get past the crowds of sailors, mages, and dockworkers, but
Talia refused on the grounds of having spent entirely too much time
in sand over the summer. That, at least, saved Hugh the trouble of
objecting, since he’d rather not walk where a sandship might run
them down.
Hugh was idly glancing back out into the desert where the
Moonless Owl had vanished when Talia elbowed him.
“Look who it is,” she whispered.
Hugh glanced over to see Rhodes Charax debarking from a
particularly grand sandship. Hugh came to an abrupt halt. Rhodes
had made Hugh’s first few months at Skyhold a living hell— he’d
seemed to enjoy nothing more than tormenting Hugh at every
opportunity.
Rhodes glanced their way, then seemed to notice Hugh and the
others. He stopped in his tracks and stared at them.
The moment seemed to stretch on and on, until it was finally cut
off by Sabae grabbing Hugh by the wrist and pulling him forward.
“Come on, Hugh. Don’t waste your time on him.”
Talia was making a quiet growling noise, and Sabae grabbed her
by the wrist as well.
“Let’s get some food, ah’m starving,” Godrick said. He’d positioned
himself between Rhodes and the others.
After Sabae had dragged them out of sight of Rhodes, she let
them both go.
“I wasn’t intending to fight Rhodes or anything,” Hugh said,
rubbing his wrist.
“I was,” Talia muttered.
Sabae shot Talia a dirty look, then shook her head. “Food sounds
like a great idea, Godrick.”
The four made it about fifty feet before Hugh tripped over a book.
It was, apparently, made entirely of green crystal, save for a
striped orange-red stone in the front cover. Faint intersecting
spellform lines radiated out from the stone, and a leather strap
connected to each end of the spine.
 Hugh couldn’t have explained it if he tried, but he was fairly sure
the book was giving him an irritated look.
“How does that thing keep following yeh everywhere?” Godrick
asked.
Hugh shrugged as he picked himself, and the book, off the
ground. The book seemed to move slightly out of sync with gravity
as it hung from its strap. When he slung the strap over his shoulder,
the book weighed far, far less than he’d expect a book made of
crystal to weigh.
“It only ever seems to move when no one’s looking at it,” Hugh
said. “And it really doesn’t like being left behind when I go places.”
The crystal book had started its life as three separate items in his
possession— a blank spellbook Sabae had gifted him for his birthday,
the labyrinth stone that had somehow gotten bound up in his
warlock contract with Kanderon Crux, and the aether crystal she’d
given him to bond with.
He still wasn’t sure how the labyrinth stone had managed to bind
itself to the book and the aether crystal, but he wasn’t really sure
about much when it came to the labyrinth stone. Kanderon and
Alustin had both been particularly cagey about answering Hugh’s
questions about it— not particularly unusual for either of them, but
certainly irritating.
Supposedly, a bound aether crystal would be incredibly useful to
its wielder. Kanderon’s wings were her aether crystal— though she
still hadn’t told Hugh how she’d lost her wings in the first place.
The only effect he’d noticed thus far from bonding with the crystal
had been his eyes turning from brown to the same shade of green
as the crystal spellbook.
The four of them were arguing about whether to eat at one of the
cafeterias— which were free for students— or one of the restaurants
near the docks— which were most certainly not free, but served
considerably better food— when a tall, lanky figure waved them
down.
Alustin usually had a slightly distracted, cheerful look on his face,
but Hugh, Sabae, and Talia’s teacher was distressed at the moment.
 “Is everything alright? Did the meeting go well?” Sabae asked him
when they drew closer through the crowd.
“No, it definitely is not,” Alustin said, “and no, it most certainly did
not.”
Alustin’s office hidden in the library was crowded with
bookshelves, piles of books, loose books, papers, half-completed
letters, and scrolls. The walls that weren’t covered in shelves held
huge chalkboards, and even the floor was a single, massive
chalkboard, covered in spellform diagrams and notes. A single
origami golem in the shape of a sparrow was aimlessly bouncing off
the ceiling, clearly near the end of its lifespan.
Hugh could tell that his spellbook was watching the golem
intently, for whatever strange reason.
The four apprentices sat in immense, over-stuffed armchairs
surrounding Alustin’s massively oversized desk. The chairs were
large enough that Godrick had plenty of room in his, and Talia and
Hugh looked like children in theirs. The armchairs had countless rips,
tears, and patches, and stuffing leaked out of a number of holes—
but they still remained in better condition than the desk, which
looked like it had personally fought in a number of wars over the
course of centuries.
Alustin, meanwhile, paced back and forth, muttering to himself.
When Talia demanded to know what they were waiting for, he just
muttered something inaudible and waved his hands.
Finally, after a solid ten minutes of waiting, Artur Wallbreaker
ducked his way into the office, shutting the door behind him. Artur
looked almost exactly like an older, more muscular version of
Godrick, with the same dark skin and curly hair, albeit with a beard
and ample grey in his hair. He looked tired and travel-stained at the
moment.
“Da!” Godrick exclaimed, bursting out of his seat. “Ah didn’t know
yeh were back already!” He darted over to his father, and the two
embraced roughly.
“Ah’ve missed yeh, Godrick,” Artur said. “Ah hope yeh behaved
yerself fer Alustin this summer. Speaking of which, what’s with tha
urgent summons?”
Alustin strode over and shook hands with Artur. “It’s good to see
you, Artur. I only wish my own apprentices were as well behaved as
Godrick,” he said. “I’m sorry to call you in so soon after your arrival,
but I’ll try and make this as quick as it can be, so you two can catch
up.”
Hugh couldn’t help but notice Alustin flex his hand gingerly after
the handshake ended, and he winced in sympathy. He’d had the
experience of shaking hands with Artur before, and it was certainly a
memorable one.
Alustin strode back to the desk and rolled up his sleeve. A banded
spellform tattoo began darkening into visibility on his arm, and he
seemed to shove his hand into empty space. A moment later, he
pulled out another oversized armchair, which dropped several inches
to the ground with a thunk.
Artur settled the chair to the side of the desk next to Godrick,
waving a greeting at the others. Hugh waved back, relieved at not
having been crushed in a massive hug.
Alustin collapsed into his chair and stared at the ceiling, saying
nothing for a moment.
“So…” Artur said.
The lanky paper mage said nothing for a moment, then he sighed
and looked down at them. “We have a traitor on the Skyhold
Council.”
 CHAPTER TWO
Unwelcome Revelations
Everyone started asking Alustin questions at once, to the point
where Hugh couldn’t make out a single word anyone was saying.
Alustin was taken aback for a moment, then he gestured for silence.
“Give me a chance to explain, please,” Alustin said.
“It’d best be one good explanation,” Artur said, leaning forwards
in his chair.
Alustin sighed. “Before I do, I need to ask your son a question.”
Godrick gave Alustin a confused look.
“Godrick, have you told your father anything at all about the
specifics of Hugh’s relationship with Kanderon?” Alustin asked.
Hugh stiffened. He’d never actually thought about whether
Godrick would have shared anything about…
“No, ah haven’t,” Godrick said, an angry look on his face. “Ah
wouldn’t betray Hugh’s trust like that.”
“What are yeh goin’ on about?” Artur asked. “And what does it
have tah do with me boy?”
“Hugh, may I have your permission to share the details of your
situation with Artur?” Alustin asked.
“Would you actually respect his decision if he said no?” Talia
demanded, glaring at Alustin. “You’ve already let Artur know that
there is a situation without asking Hugh, so…”
Alustin opened his mouth, then shut it. “You’re right,” he said
finally. “Hugh, I should have talked to you privately first, and you
have my apology for not doing so.”
Hugh blinked, then shook his head. “It’s fine, I actually don’t
mind. But what about Kanderon?”
“Kanderon was, in fact, the one to suggest bringing you four and
Artur in on things, so you don’t need to worry there,” Alustin said.
 Hugh rather doubted he would ever entirely not worry about the
massive sphinx or her temper, but that did alleviate his concerns
quite a bit.
“Ah have no idea what yer all goin’ on about,” Artur said.
“Hugh,” Alustin said, “is a warlock, and he has pacted with
Kanderon.”
Artur’s jaw dropped open. “He what with who now?” The massive
battlemage gave Hugh an incredulous look. “Tha High Librarian
doesn’t hold reins with that sort a’ thing. She’s never pacted in all
her centuries at Skyhold.”
“Not, at least,” Alustin said, “until it was the only way to save the
lives of four promising students— including your son.”
Alustin told Artur everything then— how he’d figured out that
Hugh was a warlock, how he’d come to suspect the demon Bakori’s
manipulations, how they’d been hunting for a suitable entity for him
to contract with, how Hugh had contacted Kanderon when the four
apprentices had gotten stranded down in the labyrinth, and how the
contract between them had been formed.
The big stone mage had been one of the mages who had gone
down into the labyrinth to rescue the apprentices, so Alustin skipped
over much of that part of the story.
“As interestin’ as this all is,” Artur asked after Alustin had finished,
“what, exactly, does this have ta do with there bein’ a traitor on tha
Skyhold Council?”
“Outside of this room, there should be only five people that know
the truth of Hugh and Kanderon’s contract,” Alustin said. “Kanderon
and the rest of the Councilors on the Academic sub-council. And this
goes double for the specific details of the contract. When we were in
Theras Tel this summer, however, Indris showed that she very clearly
knew about both Hugh’s contract and at least one specific detail
from it.”
“What?” Hugh asked. “What detail?”
“Indris gifted you a book. She specifically told you that it was to
pay off your yearly obligation to your master— which is one of the
clauses of your warlock contract.” Alustin said.
 Hugh thought back to the ceremony. He remembered the red
paged book, of course, but most of what people actually said during
that ceremony he had forgotten in a haze of anxiety at being in front
of a crowd that large.
“So you’re saying that someone on the Skyhold Council works for
Indris?” Sabae asked. “And why exactly are you telling us all this?”
“Not necessarily working for Indris, no,” Alustin said. “Other
powers have ended up with information about Skyhold that they
shouldn’t have way too many times over the last few years. If it
weren’t for that, maybe we could have believed that Hugh or one of
the others had let themselves talk about it where they could have
been overheard. They messed up this time, though, as outside those
of us in this room and Kanderon, only the Academic sub-council
members have access to the details of Hugh’s contract.”
“So you’re saying that someone is selling secrets, then,” Sabae
said. “That’s a problem, sure, but I still don’t understand why you’re
telling us all of this.”
“It’s… not just a matter of someone selling Skyhold’s secrets,”
Alustin said. “We think it might be considerably worse than that. We
think that Bakori might be influencing someone on the council as
well.”
Almost everyone in the room started talking at once again.
Hugh froze in his seat, his heart trying to climb out of his chest. If
Bakori was influencing a council member, then he wasn’t safe here.
He needed to get out of here. He needed to…
Talia’s hand grasped his wrist and squeezed hard. Hugh winced,
shooting a surprised look her way. Talia gave him a resolute look,
slowly letting go of his wrist.
Hugh took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down as
Alustin quieted everyone else down.
“Earlier today,” Alustin said, “the academic council met for their
first session of the school-year. Kanderon brought up a measure to
allow Hugh to do his second-year final test in a different labyrinth, as
she judged it too risky to put Hugh in the same labyrinth that Bakori
hides in. She proposed the labyrinth under the gorgon capital, given
our fairly close relations with them these days.”
 Alustin seemed distracted for a moment when he mentioned the
gorgons, then he shook his head.
“The council voted against the measure. Not only that, some of
the members actively expressed their disbelief that Bakori was even
in the labyrinth at all.”
“That hardly seems like a convincin’ argument for one of them
bein’ controlled by a demon,” Artur said.
“Influenced, not controlled. Bakori can’t control anyone directly,
merely influence them. Sending whispers into their dreams, altering
their feelings about choices that they don’t feel too strongly about,
that sort of thing,” Alustin said. “And no, that’s not why Kanderon
believes Bakori was manipulating one of the council members— in
fact, she could smell Bakori’s influence. She couldn’t, however, tell
who it was on, but it seems like a reasonable bet that whoever it is
likely has been selling Skyhold’s secrets as well— weakening Skyhold
only helps Bakori’s goals. Skyhold council members are all long
standing, trusted members of Skyhold, and there have been few
betrayals of the sort in its history.”
“Couldn’t all a’ them been influenced by Bakori?” Godrick asked.
“Kanderon doesn’t think so,” Alustin said. “She believes that no
more than one of them was affected. Unfortunately, all three of the
council members who voted against the measure have quite
legitimate reasons for voting against Kanderon, so that doesn’t help
us much.”
“Why does Bakori want Hugh back in the labyrinth?” Talia asked.
“Revenge?”
That sounded likely to Hugh. He doubted Bakori was fine with
having wasted an entire year’s worth of work trying to manipulate
Hugh into pacting with him.
“More likely he’s trying to use Hugh’s connection with Kanderon to
attack her. For all the advantages pacting offers both to the warlock
and their partner, it also conveys certain weaknesses,” Alustin said.
This didn’t significantly cheer Hugh.
“So someone could attack Hugh through Kanderon?,” Sabae
asked.
 Alustin gave her an odd look. “Anyone powerful enough to take
Kanderon alive would be more than powerful enough to squash
Hugh like a bug without needing to resort to such measures. The
reverse is far from true.”
“So we ignore the council entirely,” Talia said. “Why should we
listen to them? Why does Kanderon, for that matter?”
“Because,” Alustin said, “like it or not, they have the power to
back up what they say. And, as powerful as Kanderon is, even she
would be hard pressed to stand up to the other mages of the council
combined, let alone the combined might of Skyhold. She’s the most
powerful mage in the mountain, but she’s not invulnerable. Besides,
she helped found Skyhold. She’s not going to casually violate its
charter.”
“Then we leave,” Talia said. “Does Hugh really need to study
here? We could travel up to my clan’s territory. You could teach us all
up there.”
Alustin gave her a wry look. “I have to admit, something vaguely
along those lines had crossed my mind. It’s a bit premature for
anything like that, though, and Skyhold seldom lets anyone break
ties with them so easily. No, for now we just need to practice
caution.”
“Is that why you’re telling us all this?” Sabae asked. “Just to warn
us?”
Alustin shook his head. “No, actually, I expect you all to help us
catch the traitor.”
At this revelation, no one made a sound, save for the
malfunctioning origami golem knocking over a pile of papers atop a
bookshelf.
Finally, Artur spoke up, his voice thick with anger. “Why, exactly,
are yeh havin’ a bunch of children dip their hands inta a boilin’ pot
that most full mages would be best keepin’ out of?”
“They’re already involved,” Alustin said. “I highly doubt Bakori has
forgotten Hugh’s friends. I’m also certain he means only ill towards
them. What’s more, I’d hardly call them children. They’ve all proven
themselves more than capable over this summer.”
 “What’s that supposed ta mean?” Artur demanded.
“Did you hear about the events in Theras Tel over the summer?”
Alustin asked.
“Just somethin’ about Ataerg turnin’ on Indris,” Artur said.
“Well, to make a long story short,” Alustin said, “these four were
instrumental in foiling Ataerg’s coup.”
The huge stonemage just gaped at Alustin, then at the
apprentices. Before Artur could speak, Alustin raised his hand. “I’ll
tell you the whole story afterward, I promise.”
Alustin turned back towards the apprentices. “Up until now,
you’ve really only been training as battlemages. Kanderon and I,
however, have been grooming you as prospective Librarians Errant.
While Librarians Errant are required to be capable combatants, there
is considerably more to the role than merely fighting. We intend to
keep you on the fringes of the investigation where it is safer, but it
will provide you with experience in some of the other skillsets that
Librarians Errant require.”
Sabae snorted. “You mean spycraft.”
Alustin gave her a pained look. “I’d hardly use such crude terms
to describe it. Kanderon’s commands bring us to bear against a
diverse range of tasks that...”
Artur chuckled at this. “They’re spies, thieves, and treasure
hunters. They do Kanderon and the Council’s dirty work, whenever
and wherever it needs ta be done. It’s one a’ the worst-kept secrets
in Skyhold.”
This honestly didn’t surprise Hugh— the four of them had
basically suspected something of the sort for some time.
Alustin sighed. “Regardless of how you want to describe it, yes,
we’re training you as candidates, and Kanderon is strongly in favor
of danger as a teaching tool. Furthermore…”
As the pause dragged on, Hugh grew quite worried about that
furthermore.
“Well?” Talia finally demanded.
“Furthermore,” Alustin said, “events this summer have led to a
situation that requires a mobilization of the majority of the Librarians
Errant. We’ll be in the field as often as not this year. This includes
myself, and even Kanderon. And you won’t be able to join me this
time. So as much as it pains me to admit it, your assistance isn’t just
a training exercise. We’ll actually need the help.”
“What,” Talia said after a moment, “could possibly be more
important than uncovering a traitor in the Skyhold Council?”
Hugh found his mood sinking even lower, and his attention drifted
inwards. Without Kanderon and Alustin around all the time, he had a
feeling that life at Skyhold was going to be a lot more complicated.
He certainly felt much less safe from Bakori without them around.
“Well?” said Sabae. “Are you going to answer her?”
Hugh felt his spellbook twitch, and a hint of what seemed like
confusion came from it. It seemed to stare at Sabae for a moment,
then at Alustin, albeit directly through his desk. Gradually, its interest
seemed to fade, and Hugh felt its attention focus back on the
sparrow origami golem.
Curiously, Alustin looked relieved at the question. “I actually can’t
tell you, no.”
Artur glared. “And why am ah here, exactly? Do yeh expect me to
come harin’ off with ye on this mysterious quest while yeh have me
son in over his head in intrigue?”
“Actually, no. We’ve got the mission more than handled on our
end. I called you here because I can hardly in good conscience
involve Godrick in all this without clearing it with you first,” Alustin
said. “For another, I need someone I can trust to watch over my
apprentices while I’m gone.”
Artur stared at Alustin, still scowling, but not as intensely. “Ah’m
not saying no, but ah’m not saying yes, either. We need ta have a
long, long talk first.”
“I believe the four of you were planning on getting lunch,” Alustin
said, dismissing them.
As the four of them left the room, Hugh doubted he’d be able to
make himself eat much. He’d really, really been hoping for a quiet,
peaceful year, but life seemed to delight in keeping that out of his
reach.
As he passed the origami golem, fluttering aimlessly through the
air, Hugh’s spellbook abruptly made its move. It lunged up through
the air, yanking Hugh almost off balance as it closed its pages
around the sparrow-shaped construct. He would have fallen if
Godrick hadn’t caught him, but the spellbook merely put off a feeling
of contentment as it chewed.
Hugh just glared at it.
 CHAPTER THREE
Class
Artur did eventually agree to allow Godrick to join the
investigation and keep an eye on the foursome whenever Alustin
needed to leave Skyhold. Hugh gained the impression from Godrick
that Artur was mostly irritated at being surprised, not at the request
or the danger involved.
Given how much less Alustin would be here to teach them this
year, Hugh and the others were being enrolled in a lot more classes
than they had been last spring.
All four of them had physical and combat training scheduled
immediately after breakfast. Alustin planned on running that as often
as he could, though Artur would be taking it over when needed.
After combat training, they had shared math and history lectures
that alternated by day, followed by lunch. After that… things got a
bit weirder. They had another shared class, cryptography— codes
and codebreaking, essentially. Then they all split up for separate
classes in the afternoon.
Talia had a class with a fire mage that specialized in, of all things,
crafting puppet shows for children entirely out of flame— Alustin
thought that this was her best bet for learning to control her own
dream-based illusions, which only ever generated images that looked
to be made of flame. Along with that, Alustin had convinced one of
the few dream mages that sometimes resided at Skyhold to help
instruct her, both to improve her use of dreamfire and out of hope
that she might learn other uses for her dream affinity.
Curiously, Alustin had chosen not to find a bone mage for her to
work with— he had just muttered something about them not being
helpful. Instead, he’d reserved a large, shielded room for her to test
her odd bone affinity— he was supplying her with large amounts of
different animal bones to test, with a huge checklist of data for her
to gather. Given how many bone spells affected the caster’s own
bones, it was clear why Alustin didn’t want Talia learning those. That
clearly wasn’t a safe option for Talia, unless she wanted to blow
herself up. Hugh didn’t see why a bone mage couldn’t teach her
other things, though.
Sabae had an introductory healing class— something usually
intended for first years, but given that she’d refused to use her
healing affinity last year, she didn’t have a ton of choice. After that,
she had a sort of rotating seminar designed to help her progress
with her unique magic techniques. Alustin would be taking charge of
it whenever possible, but he had found a number of mages willing to
try to help her out, including a noted expert on spellform-less
casting, as well as several water mages. Alustin wasn’t having her
move forward with her lightning magic yet.
Godrick’s schedule was by far the simplest— he was going to be
spending most of his time working with his father, given that they
had close to identical affinities. Artur’s iron affinity was more than
close enough to Godrick’s steel affinity that it wouldn’t cause
problems. There weren’t, unfortunately, any scent mages in Skyhold
currently that could help him out.
Hugh had two main classes, other than the lessons scheduled
with Kanderon whenever she was available. One was a spellform
construction seminar attended mostly by journeymen mages. While
Alustin was quite capable at spellform construction, he had about
reached the limit of his knowledge that would be useful for Hugh—
much of the rest of his knowledge was focused on glyphs, paper
magic, and the like. Hugh was, however, warned not to tell anyone
that he was already doing improvised spellform construction.
Standard spellform construction was deemed dangerous enough as
it was.
Hugh’s next class was a ward class run by a somewhat reclusive
wardsmith named Loarna of the Vault that lived deep in the bowels
of Skyhold. Alustin wouldn’t give him any more details than that,
merely smiling ominously.
Finally, all four of them were enrolled in a class together that met
every Fourthday afternoon. It was simply titled “Intermediate Library
Filing Skills,” and Alustin refused to share any details about the class
with them.
To Hugh’s delight, Alustin told them not to bother with attending
the start of year assembly. It was, in his words, ‘an utterly
superfluous waste of time that literally no-one involved enjoyed.’
Of course, Alustin wanted them to use that time for training
instead.
By the third day of classes, Hugh was close to falling asleep on his
feet. It was common knowledge that your second year at Skyhold
was much more difficult than your first, but Alustin, unsurprisingly,
took this much further than most masters.
Physical training every day was absolutely brutal. After the events
of the summer, Hugh definitely understood why Alustin demanded it
of them, but that didn’t make running miles every morning any more
fun— even less so when Alustin informed them that they’d start
having to do it while carrying progressively heavier buckets every
day. There was also mention of obstacle courses, climbing, and a
few surprises that Artur had in store whenever he took over the
class.
Godrick grinned at that last one, but he wouldn’t tell the others
anything.
Combat training was grueling as well. There were plenty of
magical training exercises planned— starting with target practice and
moving up to more complex group scenarios. To Hugh’s surprise,
hand to hand combat training was being added as well— before,
only Sabae and Godrick had trained in it at Skyhold, though Talia
had plenty of combat training from home.
Hugh was fairly sure he wasn’t going to be enjoying it very much.
Math and history were, well, math and history. The biggest
challenge was just staying awake in their exhaustion. They clustered
in the back of the classroom and took turns poking and kicking each
other awake.
There was one other major challenge, at least for Hugh— all the
other students kept looking at them and whispering to one another.
There had already been plenty of rumors about them going around
after they had escaped the labyrinth at the end of last year, and the
rumors apparently only intensified over the summer, especially
among the sizable population of students who had stayed at
Skyhold.
It seemed that rumors about what had happened in Theras Tel
were also spreading rapidly, which Hugh really didn’t need. Even the
instructors seemed unduly interested.
Thankfully, Godrick was more than happy being the face of the
group— he’d been friendlier with a great many more people last year
than the rest of them. Hugh had absolutely no interest in talking to a
bunch of strangers. Talia was infuriated by the lot of them— when
she’d seemed a failure as a mage last year, they’d all ignored her,
only to start paying attention now. Sabae didn’t seem overly
concerned one way or another— according to her, she’d learned to
deal with stuff like that back in Ras Andis.
Cryptography was… interesting, to be certain. Their instructor
refused to tell them their name and went concealed at all times with
a thick hooded robe and gloves. Their face was concealed behind
magical shadows, and their voice was magically altered. Hugh had
no idea what gender they were, even. The only thing that he could
tell was that they were short and fat— and Sabae claimed that they
were stuffing their robes to make themselves look that way.
The actual coursework in cryptography wasn’t as difficult as Hugh
had anticipated. They were learning about the fundamental
principles of encryption and the like. They hadn’t even started on
any actual codes, yet, though apparently the first ones would be
fairly simple.
Hugh didn’t trust that it would stay easy, though.
 CHAPTER FOUR
Eccentric Faculty
Hugh was more than a little nervous on the first day of his
spellform crafting course. It was his first class without one of his
friends alongside him in quite some time, and it would be alongside
journeyman mages, for the most part— students who, rather than
hiring out as battlemages or whatever other specialization after
completing their first three years, instead chose to continue their
education. Other than a few specialized disciplines like enchanting
and healing beyond basic field medicine that required those extra
years, journeyman mages tended to be those who delighted in
magic for its own sake, or wanted to push boundaries.
Alustin was surprisingly ambivalent about becoming a journeyman
mage. While he had done it— you couldn’t take apprentices at
Skyhold unless you’d completed your journeyman years, among
other things— he didn’t actually consider it to be that advantageous
for many mages. Most battlemages, for instance, didn’t need to
know precisely how their spells worked, they just needed to be able
to perform them reliably and quickly— especially if they were serving
in an army.
When Hugh arrived at the classroom, he found himself numbering
among only a dozen or so students, only three of which appeared to
be apprentices like him.
The instructor was already waiting for them in the room. Every
inch of exposed skin on the grey-haired, stocky older mage was
covered in complex metallic spellform tattoos. He took his time
staring at each and every student in turn. The look on his face said
he found all of them wanting.
“My name is Emmenson Drees, and I’ll be teaching you spellform
construction. I accept no students without a personal
recommendation from a Skyhold instructor, and only then if you
already have a requisite minimum skill at spellform construction.”
Emmenson glanced around the room again, the sour look on his
face growing more pronounced. “I’m sure all of you consider
yourself brilliant and above your peers. That’s hardly an
accomplishment, since most of your peers think hurling a fireball
straight ahead requires magical skill, and could likely be replaced by
a goat without many people noticing a difference in their
spellcasting.”
Someone in the front of the classroom snickered, and Emmenson
fixed the unlucky soul with a glare. “I have a lot more patience for
them than I will for any of you. I will have more respect for most of
them than for you. The reason most mages merely use spellforms
out of a book or memorize them is that they work. They’re time-
tested, reliable spells that don’t explode two castings out of seven,
only work in warm weather, or get shorted out by loud noises.”
Emmenson rapped his knuckles on the desk of the student that
had laughed. “You all, however, think that you are cleverer, more
talented, and just better than everyone else. Enough so that you
think you’re capable of creating worthwhile spells. I doubt most of
you will ever pass the level of being able to meddle with cantrips,
however. One or two of you might be good enough to eventually
develop spellforms for specialized, one time jobs.”
He paused and looked around the room. “None of you, however,
will ever be good enough to craft one of those mundane, day-to-day
spells that students like you disdain so much. Those pedestrian
fireball spellforms? They’re tried and true works of art that you’ll
never even approach. In all my years of teaching, I have had exactly
three students who reached that level. None of you will ever get
there.”
The students around Hugh held varying mixes of shock and anger
on their faces. One journeyman to Hugh’s right, a woman with hair
nearly down to the floor, spoke up in irritation. “Who do you think…”
“Quiet,” Emmenson said, sounding more bored than anything.
“I-” the woman started, only to be interrupted by Emmenson
snapping his fingers. The tattoos on his hand flared slightly, and the
journeyman abruptly went silent. Her mouth was still moving, but
Hugh couldn’t hear anything.
In fact, Hugh couldn’t hear almost anything at all, except for
Emmenson’s voice. Even his breathing and heartbeat sounded
curiously muted.
“I have absolutely no interest in hearing what any of you have to
say. If you have any questions, you may write them down for me
and leave them on my desk, and I’ll answer any I find worthwhile
during the next class. If you have any comments, you may keep
them to yourselves. I teach this class for two reasons only— because
the Council demands it of me, and for the vanishingly rare chance
that I might actually find a worthy student amongst you all.”
Hugh noticed that the journeyman’s hair was twitching,
apparently on its own.
Emmenson strode up to the front of the classroom. “While in my
class, you may not test a new spellform without my prior approval. If
you test one without it, you will be expelled from the class. If I hear
of you testing a new spell on your own time, it had best be with
your master’s approval, because otherwise, you will be expelled from
the class.”
Hugh started to raise his hand at that, but then he quickly
lowered it and began rummaging in his pockets for paper and
something to write with.
“If you miss a class without an extremely good reason, you will be
expelled from the class. If you make a habit of being late, you will
be expelled from the class.”
His spellbook, apparently deciding to be helpful, flipped itself up
onto his desk from the floor, where he’d left it. Thankfully, it seemed
to be covered by whatever sound suppressing spell Emmenson was
using. The spellbook opened up, and sandwiched in between its
crystal pages was a blank sheet of paper. A slightly chewed looking
sheet of paper. Hugh was fairly sure it was identical to the paper
that the book had been filled with before it became crystalline.
Hugh looked up to see Emmenson looking his way. The mage
cocked an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say anything.
 Hugh set his quill pen and sealed inkpot on the desk, but he didn’t
do anything with them just yet.
“Even if you don’t get expelled, I fail most students. I do not do
so out of cruelty or for my amusement, but simply because you will
not meet the expectations I have for this class. My standards will be
clearly laid out, and I will be utterly fair about them, but I will not
compromise on them.”
Quite a few of the students around Hugh looked a little queasy.
“If you wish to drop this class now, you may do so without any
difficulty. The academy is more than aware of how much I demand,
and they’re happy to assist you in finding a subject better suited for
you. And rest assured, it will be better suited to you than this. And
don’t think that I’m merely being rough on you now to weed out the
unsuited— I’m being kind, given that it’s the first day.”
Emmenson glanced at the door, which swung open at his look. He
then turned his gaze expectantly on the students.
Almost immediately, a couple of students began to leave.
Emmenson just waited patiently. Another student eventually got up
and left, followed in swift succession by two more.
Hugh, seeing that Emmenson wasn’t moving on just yet, began to
write.
Eventually, after no one else chose to leave, Emmenson resumed.
Hugh noticed that he didn’t even glance at the door when he
released the spell holding it open— which wasn’t at all necessary to
do, but most people had trouble not looking at the results of their
spells.
Hugh was the only apprentice left in the room— only journeymen
had stayed otherwise. He also noticed that the journeyman with the
long hair that seemed to move on its own was still there, though she
looked incredibly frustrated.
Emmenson raised his eyebrows as he looked over the remainder
of the class. “You lot are harder to scare off than usual, I see. Well,
let’s begin.”
Almost everyone in the class left questions on Emmenson’s desk
after the class let out. Once out of the classroom, sound resumed
like normal, and Hugh could hear the other students complaining to
one another about Emmenson.
Hugh was just happy he had a class where there was no chance
of him being called on to answer questions in front of everyone.
A couple of days before the first meeting of Hugh’s wardcrafting
class, an origami golem in the shape of a bat delivered itself to the
door of Hugh’s hidden room in the library. When he unfolded it, the
sheet of paper only contained directions to a classroom inside
Skyhold.
Which, in turn, had led him today into a hallway that, so far as he
could tell, didn’t contain any doorways, nor anyone else.
Hugh spent a few moments double-checking his directions, but he
was definitely in the correct hallway. Maybe the directions were
incorrect?
For a moment, the idea flashed through his mind that perhaps the
note was encrypted somehow, and he was supposed to solve the
code to find the correct classroom. He quickly dismissed it, however,
as a product of having just left cryptography class.
Hugh frowned, and started to walk back down the hallway.
Something about this wasn’t right. The classroom should be halfway
down the hall on the north side, but the wall was just blank there.
As he turned his head, he thought he saw something out of the
corner of his eye for a moment. He jerked his head back, but there
was still nothing there.
Maybe…
Hugh tried simply reaching out towards the wall where the door
should be, but met only the granite of Skyhold with his hand. So it
wasn’t an illusion, then.
He frowned, then walked back to the end of the hallway. He
rested his hand on the north wall, then closed his eyes and started
walking forward. About halfway down, the wall vanished beneath his
fingers. Hugh smiled and stepped through without opening his eyes.
Only to find himself in an empty classroom, save for Hugh and the
desks.
 No, there was a letter lying on one of the desks. He walked over
to it, seeing that it had his name on the envelope.
Hugh reached out to grab it, but then stopped himself, turning to
face the door again, curious.
There, right above the door, was a ward. Hugh immediately
recognized it as a ward intended to divert attention from the door. It
was much more complex than the attention wards Hugh was familiar
with, though— those only worked when people didn’t know
something was there. They wouldn’t deter an active searcher.
Hugh lifted up his spellbook, intending to copy down the ward.
When he opened it, however, there was no convenient sheet of
paper for him to write on.
“If you’re no good to write in anymore, you could at least supply
me with paper when I need it,” Hugh told the spellbook.
The spellbook somehow managed to give him a stubborn look.
“Maybe I should write in you, then, see how you like it,” Hugh
said. He strode over to the lecturer’s podium, dropping the spellbook
on it and getting out his quill and ink.
Its pages somehow looked even more obstinate now. Hugh
frowned. “Alright, you asked for it.” He lowered the quill pen to the
page to start writing.
The ink just ran straight off the book.
Hugh sighed. “Are you actually good for anything at all, or did I
just manage to ruin you?”
The book seemed offended. Hugh rolled his eyes and moved to
shut it, but the book refused to close.
“Fine, be like that,” Hugh said. He turned to pick the letter off the
desk, only to have something poke him in the back.
He turned, only to see his spellbook floating off towards the door.
“Now what?” Hugh demanded. The book stopped a few feet away
from the door, hovering open at chest height and somehow staring
at him expectantly.
“This is ridiculous,” Hugh said, but he walked over to the book.
The book stared at him for a moment, then it switched its attention
to the ward above the door, and then looked back at him.
 Not only did Hugh have no idea what the book wanted him to do,
he still had no idea how he could tell what the book was feeling or
looking at. It hadn’t moved at all since it had reached the spot it was
now hovering in.
“Look, if the ink doesn’t stick to you, how am I supposed to write
in you?” Hugh asked.
The book, seeming exasperated with him, abruptly began turning
pages. They didn’t bend like paper, but they weren’t rigid, either.
They were somewhere between sheets and panes.
They were also absurdly strong. Even Godrick hadn’t been able to
tear one out this summer, and the book had bit Hugh hard when he
kept trying after that. The edges were considerably less sharp than
those of paper pages, however.
The book finally came to rest on a pair of pages near its front
cover. There was writing suspended within the pages— easily visible
flaws within the crystal. The writing was from when he was planning
out his explosive wardstones for his sling— which reminded him that
he needed to rework the ward designs so that they would be less
likely to randomly blow up while he was carrying them around. He
was lucky he hadn’t been injured by one blowing up in his belt
pouch in the labyrinth.
The book shot him an impatient look, and he focused back onto it.
“What are you trying to tell me?” Hugh asked.
The book seemed to sigh, and then the words and diagrams
inside… moved. Hugh blinked in surprise as they reformed into a
crude drawing of him drawing in the book with… his finger?
The drawing collapsed back into its constituent words and
diagrams, and the spellbook flipped its pages until it reached a blank
one, then it stared at him expectantly.
Hugh shrugged, then reached his finger out and pressed it against
the page, drawing the first line of the ward above the door.
Nothing happened.
Hugh sighed and started to pull his hand back. The instant he did
so, the book snapped shut on it. Not hard enough to hurt, but
enough to keep his hand from moving.
 “Alright, fine,” he told the book irritably. The book slowly opened,
releasing his hand. He frowned, then poked the book with his finger
again. Nothing happened— he might as well be trying to use a quill
without ink.
A quill without ink… Hugh smiled, then tapped into his mana
reservoirs. He didn’t channel the mana into any spellforms, but
instead just reached out with his finger again, dragging it across the
page.
It left a perfect line in its wake.
Hugh smiled and started to draw.
It took a few minutes to get the hang of it, and he made quite a
few errors during the process. Partway through, he realized that he
could actually erase the lines like chalk just by running his fingers
over them and willing them away, which helped the process go much
faster.
After he finished drawing the ward, he closed the spellbook and
slung the strap over his shoulder, after which the book stopped
hovering and fell against his hip. Possibly a little harder than strictly
necessary. He glared at it, then strode over to the desk his letter was
on.
And just kept staring.
Eventually, he felt a twinge of impatience from his spellbook.
“It’s warded,” Hugh told the book. “Look at the wax seal— that’s a
ward stamped into it, around the border of the sigil.”
Presumably, the sigil belonged to Loarna of the Vault, the
wardcrafting professor.
“I recognize part of the ward— it’s meant to destroy the letter if
the wrong person breaks the seal. It’s one of the basic wards. I
don’t recognize a lot of the rest of the spellform components,
though.”
The spellbook somehow managed to emulate a bored yawn. Hugh
rolled his eyes and turned back to the letter.
Part of the ward seemed to be designed to interact with other
wards. If Hugh was reading the spellforms correctly, moving the
letter past the other ward would destroy part of the text of the letter,
but he wasn’t sure what ward it was describing. Maybe the one
under the door?
Hugh grinned and looked underneath the desk. Sure enough,
there was a corresponding ward below it. He barely recognized half
the markings in the ward, but he didn’t need to— he could at least
tell that the ward was mainly just built to interact with the other
ward. He stood back up, grabbed the letter, and cracked the seal
right there on the desk without moving it from inside the desk ward.
Hugh unfolded it and removed it from the desk, and smiled when
nothing happened to the text inside the letter.
Then he frowned again.
All the paper contained was a date and time— the date and time
of the next wardcrafting class, in fact— and another location in
Skyhold. Below it was a homework assignment. He was supposed to
write about all the wards he’d encountered during this class, as well
as their purposes.
From what he was guessing, the homework assignment would
have been the part that would have been burned off by the ward.
Hugh was preparing to leave the classroom when a thought
occurred to him. He crouched down and began looking under the
other desks.
There were wards almost identical to those under his desk under
each of them. Curious, he tried to feel the tops of some of the other
desks to see if there were letters hidden there, but his fingers
somehow slipped away from the desk in the air above them.
Strange.
If Hugh had to guess, there was a letter atop each desk, each
only visible to their intended recipient. Which actually lead to
another question— shouldn’t he have seen some of his other
classmates by now? He was fairly sure he wasn’t the only one in this
class.
Curious, Hugh strode out of the room and looked down the
hallway, seeing nobody in sight. He started to walk down the
hallway, then stopped, feeling like something was off. Why had he
started down the hall at such an odd angle? And, come to think of it,
he had definitely meandered quite a bit on his way through the
hallway the first time.
Hugh pulled out a piece of chalk, then began dragging it across
the floor as he walked down the hallway. When he reached the
nearest intersection, he stopped and looked back at the line.
It was the least straight line he’d ever seen. It wavered, twisted,
made U-turns, and even looped at one point. He must have gone
twice as far as he actually needed to go to get down the hallway,
and he had hardly noticed it.
Hugh grinned, then stepped back into the hallway. He touched
one wall with his outstretched hand, then stretched his other hand
out as far as it could go.
Then he sprinted down the hall.
Within a few paces, he felt his outstretched arm smack into a
couple of people, and after about ten paces, he crashed right into
someone.
The attention ward in the hallway collapsed, unable to keep the
students’ attention off of one another any longer.
There were about a dozen students in the hall, most looking quite
confused. Only one of them had a letter from the room in their hand
already that he could see. Hugh was guessing they were mostly
journeymen, but there looked to be a few more apprentices than in
Emmenson’s class.
The student who he’d crashed into pulled himself to his feet and
glared at Hugh. “Indris’ claws, that hurt. Watch where you’re going,
kid.”
“I couldn’t see you, so that wouldn’t have helped,” Hugh replied,
still pleased with himself for figuring out the existence of the
attention ward concealing the students from one another— even if
he still couldn’t tell where it was placed. He did notice that the door
to the classroom was still concealed from the outside, however.
The other student just glared at him and grumbled, until he
noticed Hugh’s spellbook. His eyes widened.
“You’re the Stormward!” he blurted.
Hugh gave him a weird look, suddenly uncomfortable. “What?”
 “It was you!” the student said. “You were the one that saved
Theras Tel from the storm this summer! I was there! I mean, I didn’t
see you while you were there, but I saw the battle and the storm
and everything, and everyone kept talking about your spellbook
carved from solid emerald!”
Hugh started backing up nervously. “It’s not emerald,” he
muttered.
“What are you taking this class for?” the other student asked.
“Shouldn’t you be teaching it or something?”
Most of the other students were looking at them now. Hugh was
really starting to regret breaking the attention ward.
“I… I’ve got to go,” Hugh said. He pivoted and sprinted off.
Alustin had most certainly been correct about the need for
physical training.
The other three had similarly unusual classes, for the most part.
Sabae’s healing class was the only normal, apprentice-filled class any
of them were taking. It was mostly focused on emergency response
and battlefield medicine— healing affinities were incredibly useful,
but quite limited without an extensive knowledge of anatomy and
physiology, as well as many years of training.
Only enchanters and one or two other mage disciplines required
as much training time as healers, and since Sabae was training
primarily as a battle mage, she simply wouldn’t have time to become
a full healer, so battlefield medicine was as far as she’d be going—
though that was still a particularly intensive training program.
Her other class, the one-on-one seminar, Alustin had held himself.
He wasn’t planning on leaving on one of his mysterious missions for
a couple weeks yet, apparently. They weren’t doing anything new at
the moment— just helping Sabae finish mastering wrapping her
wind armor around her entire body. The most difficult part was,
according to her, making sure that she could still breathe through it.
Hugh didn’t see why that was a problem— the armor was made of
air, after all— but apparently it was.
Talia seemed somewhat disinterested in talking about her classes.
When asked, she just said they were going fine, then changed the
subject. Hugh suspected that meant that her tutors weren’t making
any progress with her dream affinity. Talia’s spellcasting limitations
were a good bit more challenging to work around than Hugh or
Sabae’s— while she was incredibly powerful in a few focused areas,
she’d been almost entirely unable to progress outside of those areas.
And while Talia was quite happy with those areas— especially
considering that they all let her fight more effectively— she was still
quite sensitive about her limitations, so Hugh decided not to push
her.
Her independent study, however, Talia was quite happy to chat
about. It consisted entirely of her exploding various animal bones
and recording the results. Hugh was fairly sure Talia could spend
weeks setting fires and causing explosions without ever growing
bored.
Godrick’s training with his father was apparently going great and
was closely paralleling Sabae’s. He was mainly working on extending
his stone armor across his body. He was more secretive about it than
Sabae, though— Sabae’s techniques wouldn’t be useful to anyone
other than her, while Godrick was using his father’s armor spells,
which were a closely kept— and much sought after— secret.
 CHAPTER FIVE
Intermediate Library Filing Skills
Sabae glared at Alustin, then punched another book out of the air.
“This is the most poorly named class of all time!” she yelled at
him. Alustin just kept smiling and casually stepped out of the way of
a swooping grimoire.
Sabae snarled, then detonated the wind armor around her legs,
sending herself hurtling towards Talia, who was armed only with a
net and was being mobbed by a flock of spellbooks. Talia could
hardly use dreamfire without destroying the books, which would
defeat the whole purpose of the exercise.
After Sabae dispersed the flock with a series of gust strikes, she
took a moment to check on the others. Hugh had somehow ended
up on one of the floating pathways in the center of the Grand
Library, hunting down a particularly elusive bestiary. His weird crystal
spellbook was badly savaging an innocuous-looking book. Godrick,
meanwhile, was wrestling a tome that looked like it weighed more
than Talia.
“What are we actually supposed to be learning here?” Sabae
demanded of Alustin.
“Intermediate Library Filing Skills,” Alustin replied, sidestepping
another attacking book, before casually snatching it out of the air.
He strode over to the nearest shelf and shoved the book in an empty
space without looking.
“I thought you were training us up as Librarian Errant candidates,
not librarians!” Talia yelled, trying to disentangle a panicked
spellbook from her hair.
Hugh screamed something incoherent in the distance, and Sabae
looked over to see him dangling above the apparently bottomless
abyss in the center of the library, holding onto the bestiary in one
hand and his spellbook’s leather strap in the other. All three were
sinking rapidly through the air. Sabae spun up her wind armor
around her legs again, preparing to try and reach him, but the three
started rising rapidly through the air. He’d probably just cast a
levitation cantrip to reduce his weight.
“This really shouldn’t surprise you, but dealing with books is still a
big part of being a Librarian Errant,” Alustin said. “While we might be
Skyhold’s intelligence service, cover stories work better when they’re
actually true. Just a moment, please.”
The spellform tattoo band on Alustin’s arm flared into visibility,
and sheaves of paper flooded out of it. They hovered for a moment,
and then Alustin sent them hurtling towards Hugh. They swiftly
latched onto his legs, whereupon Alustin began pulling Hugh and the
two books back towards the ledge.
“Help!” yelled Godrick, who was being dragged towards a gap in
the railing by the massive book he’d been wrestling.
Sabae sighed and windjumped towards him.
Once the group had finished subduing the rogue flock of books
and reshelving them— a task made much easier by the origami
golems sent by the Index to help guide them to the right shelves—
Alustin gathered them together at a reading area that jutted out
over the abyss in the center of the Grand Library.
Of course, you’d have to be insane to drop your guard in here for
a bit of reading time.
The Grand Library was impossibly large. It was roughly shaped
like the inside of a hollow, square tower— if that tower were a mile
across and at least four miles tall.
Sabae was confident that the mountain Skyhold was carved into
wasn’t actually large enough to contain the Library, and Alustin and
Hugh had confirmed that there was spatial trickery at work—
something akin to Alustin’s tattoo, but on a much, much larger scale.
Books were shelved along balconies that wrapped around the
wall, connected by spiral staircases, ramps, and ladders. The
balconies looked small from a distance, but Sabae knew that some
of them went back quite a distance. You could spend a lot of time
exploring the Grand Library without seeing the massive empty space
in the center.
In said abyss floated countless rows of hovering shelves, islands
that contained reading nooks, bookbinding stations, and even a
small forest with its own miniature sun on one. Glowcrystals were
scattered liberally throughout the library, but it was so huge that the
space still seemed dim and foreboding.
At the bottom of the abyss was a thick, faintly glowing blue mist.
Sabae knew that it contained the Index, a massive magical construct
created by and linked to Kanderon Crux. The sphinx’s lair, a massive
hovering crystal dais, was located below even that, but Sabae had
no idea if she was down there or not. Or, for that matter, how the
massive sphinx got in and out of this place. While the Grand Library
was massive, all the doors she’d seen to it were human sized.
While the flock of books had been irritating, they hadn’t been
overly dangerous. If the four of them hadn’t been trying to avoid as
much damage to the books as they could, they could have easily
wiped them out.
The same, however, was hardly true of the rest of the library. It
was, apparently, nearly as dangerous as the labyrinth at times, and
quite a few librarians and visitors died in it every year. Alustin had
forced them to memorize a list of recent victims as their punishment
for sneaking in last year, and many of the entries had ranged from
terrifying to nauseating.
“There’s a property of the Grand Library that few know about,”
Alustin said, once they’d all settled down into armchairs in the
reading area. “It’s extraordinarily hard to scry on anyone in here.
This is one of the few spaces that it’s safe to discuss sensitive topics
you have access to, other than my office, Hugh’s room to a certain
extent, and the labyrinth. And since the whole point of inducting you
into all of this intrigue this early is to keep you all out of the
labyrinth, I’d advise staying out of there.”
“Just to an extent?” Hugh asked, looking slightly miffed. There
wasn’t much Hugh would challenge a teacher on, but Sabae knew
how proud he was of his ward work.
 “Any common scrying attempt into your room would fail,” Alustin
said, “but blocking a specialized affinity like my farseeing attunement
or a few others would require massively overbuilt wards, which
would draw entirely too much attention.”
“Like there’s not enough attention on us already?” Hugh muttered
irritably.
Alustin pulled a thin book from his tattoo and tossed it underhand
to Hugh, who barely managed to catch it before his spellbook
grabbed it. Hugh shoved the spellbook off his lap, and it fluttered
away irritably.
“That should provide you with a set of ward modifications that
won’t prevent the more specialized scrying methods, but it will warn
you if someone is attempting to do so,” Alustin said. “Just be careful
to pay attention to them when talking in your room.”
Sabae tapped her fingers, staring vaguely off at one of the islands
floating in the Library abyss. She could tolerate the attention a lot
better than Hugh could— every member of the Kaen Das family had
to deal with it to one degree or another in Ras Andis— but
something about all the attention they were receiving had been
bugging her quite a bit lately.
“I don’t get it,” she said. “How are we supposed to make
worthwhile spies if literally everyone knows who we are? My
grandmother was quite clear about the best spies being entirely
boring and forgettable. You and the other Librarians Errant seem
exactly the opposite, and you seem determined to keep throwing us
in situations that will throw us into higher and higher profile.”
Well, Sabae hadn’t known any other Librarians Errant until this
week, but she’d been doing her research since returning to Skyhold.
Alustin smiled at that. “That’s the trick, Sabae. The known
Librarians Errant are supposed to be noisy and visible to people who
are paying attention. They’re lodestones for attention.”
“Wait, the known Librarians Errant?” Sabae asked.
“There are a considerable number of our members who keep
much, much lower profiles,” Alustin said. “On top of that, the
overwhelming majority of the missions we’re sent on aren’t spywork
at all, but are in fact entirely on the level. If anyone tries to interfere
with all of our missions, it will cost them considerable political
capital, and give Kanderon and the Council room to push back
against them. And most of the actual espionage that high visibility
Librarians Errant like myself engage in is either just making covert
pickups from embedded agents or… more active missions that
require a somewhat aggressive skillset.”
“Like assassinations?” Talia asked, leaning forward in her seat.
She seemed a little too excited by that thought.
Alustin winced. “We try to avoid those as much as reasonably
possible. A reputation as a legitimate order with a rumored tendency
to dabble in espionage is one thing, but if we were to gain a
reputation as assassins, we’d find ourselves welcome in far fewer
places.”
“Ah still don’t understand why would anyone let yeh in their city
anyhow, if they know yeh’re spies.” Godrick said.
“Well,” Alustin said. “Among other reasons, the true purpose of
the Librarians Errant is hardly so well known as your father made it
out to be. He’s always preferred to make knowledge seem less
valuable than to have people realize how intelligent he is. As for
those who do know or suspect, they’re not sure who among us are
spies, and they’d rather have a known threat to watch than an
unknown one. In addition, Skyhold doesn’t have any true enemies—
it would be prohibitively costly for most nations and city-states on
Ithos to attack, and we strenuously seek to maintain as much
neutrality as we can.”
“Why do we even need a spy service if we’re trying to stay
neutral?” Hugh asked. “Quit that!” This last comment was addressed
to his spellbook, which was attacking a nearby grimoire.
“We still control a significant amount of territory and resources,”
Alustin said. “We’re at the center of what is likely the densest region
of aether on the whole continent. We’re above the largest labyrinth
on the continent as well, and the goods that are won by the
adventurers that survive delving its depths are worth more than the
entirety of the exports of some major cities. We have literally
thousands of trained mages, as well as Kanderon, one of the
mightiest beings on the continent. She might avoid the public eye as
much as possible, but everyone who is anyone knows who she is.
We’ve got wealth, we’ve got power, and you can’t have those
without there being trouble. Nobody is ever truly neutral.”
“What about Emblin?” Sabae asked. “They claim to be neutral,
and I’ve never heard anything that might say otherwise.”
Hugh shot her an uncomfortable look— he really didn’t like talking
about his homeland very much.
“Emblin can say they’re neutral all they want, because nobody
dares attack them,” Alustin said.
Everyone looked taken aback at this. Alustin looked around at
them and then sighed. “I would have at least expected Hugh to get
this one. Emblin might be relatively poor and undeveloped, but it’s in
a stable and severe mana desert. Its aether is only dense enough to
maintain a very small amount of magic before being drained, and it
refills very, very slowly. Given how reliant almost every military on
the continent is on mages, this puts them at an almost crippling
disadvantage inside Emblin. The only nation that could likely
overcome that disadvantage easily would be the Havath Dominion,
and they’re all the way across the continent from Emblin.”
“Not,” Alustin added, “that I have any doubt they’ve already
developed plans for doing so some day.”
He shook his head as if clearing it and moved on. This was hardly
the first time Sabae had seen Alustin react poorly to even his own
mention of the Havath Dominion— there was clearly some sort of
history there, but she didn’t know why he seemed to hate them.
Not that he was in any select company. Havath claimed to be the
legitimate inheritors of the mantle of the Ithonian Empire, and
they’d engaged in numerous wars of conquest and expansion over
the past century, absorbing numerous city-states and smaller
nations. Several times their expansions had only been beaten back
by large coalitions of their neighbors.
Sabae recalled hearing something from her grandmother about
their battle tactics being unusual, but couldn’t remember the details,
or why that might make them better suited for attacking Emblin, of
all places.
 If Havath didn’t keep acting like they were doing their conquests a
favor, the hatred so many had for them might not have been quite
so intense.
Sabae realized she’d missed the last thing that Alustin had said,
and turned her attention back to him. He had started to tell the
others about lamplighters— operatives who tended to safehouses,
prepared supply caches, and otherwise kept operations running on a
logistical level.
There was something funny about this whole situation, something
bothering her like a loose tooth that she couldn’t stop poking with
her tongue. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out what, though.
She knew the whole “Skyhold is neutral” line was nonsense—
Skyhold had spent most of its history claiming that it wasn’t actually
a city-state, merely a school, and that it was neutral, but its actions
throughout history completely put the lie to both. That wasn’t what
was bothering Sabae, though.
Hugh and Talia might trust Alustin completely, but Sabae still had
reservations. Or, rather, she trusted Alustin with her life, but she far
from trusted him to be honest with them.
“Hugh, I don’t think your spellbook is attacking that other book,”
Talia said, grinning.
“What do you mean, not attacking, it’s…” Hugh started, then
turned red when he realized what Talia meant.
Sabae glanced over at the books, sighed, and turned her attention
back to Alustin.
 CHAPTER SIX
Gifts
That Fifthday, a sandship from Theras Tel arrived bearing gifts.
Or, rather, rewards.
Indris had seen fit to bestow Hugh and the others with said
rewards in thanks for their assistance in the battle against Ataerg,
but they hadn’t all gotten them at once. Hugh had… well, he hadn’t
intended to ask for a boon. Rather, he’d just frozen up in front of the
crowd, and Indris had been amused enough to offer him a future
boon.
Hugh really had trouble imagining that he’d ever get around to
working up the nerve to call in the favor, nor did he have any idea
what he’d ask a dragon for.
Sabae had requested the return of an amulet that one of her
ancestors had lost in a bet against Indris— something about a
contest over control of a storm or some such. Hugh was fairly sure
the amulet was enchanted, but Sabae wouldn’t say anything else on
the matter.
Alustin had requested a book that Hugh had only briefly glimpsed
— a log of grain shipments to the Ithonian capital, or something of
the sort. Hugh had no idea why Alustin had wanted it— perhaps just
for its extreme age?
It was Talia and Godrick’s rewards that were being delivered
today, however.
Talia had requested the bones of Ataerg. This had been a slightly
ridiculous request on her part, but Indris, apparently not having any
interest in mounting her traitorous mate’s bones in her halls with the
bones of her other rivals, had agreed.
It had taken until now for what remained of Ataerg’s massive
corpse to be removed from the ruined neighborhood he had died in
and stripped of its flesh, but the first shipment had finally arrived.
The hold of the sandship was almost entirely filled with bones.
They’d also brought Ataerg’s skull. Even badly damaged as it was,
the skull was still so huge that it couldn’t fit down into the hold
without disassembling the deck, and so had instead been hauled
behind the ship on a massive sled.
Kanderon had not been pleased about having to arrange to store
the bones. She’d only acquiesced when Alustin reminded her that
Talia’s strange bone affinity might have unusual interactions with
dragon bones, which possessed a number of magical properties,
even beyond their freakish strength and lightness.
Despite the sheer amount of attention the partial skeleton got
while being unloaded, it was Godrick’s reward that most excited
them. He’d requested an enchanted sledgehammer, to replace the
more mundane one he’d lost during the coup attempt.
The enchanting process could often take months, but Indris had
apparently moved the hammer to the top of the list for her
enchanters.
After they hauled the crate away from the ship to an empty stone
pier nearby, the four of them clustered around the hammer’s crate
as Godrick opened it. They’d been bugging him to tell them what
kind of enchantment he’d requested ever since he met with the
enchanters, but he’d refused every time.
“Alright, now are you going to tell us what it does?” Talia asked,
irritably.
“Nope,” Godrick said. He leaned out of the way of Talia’s jabbing
elbow and smiled. “Ah’m gonna show yeh.”
Godrick cracked open the crate, revealing a sledgehammer even
more massive than his last two. Intricate spellforms covered the
blunt head of the hammer and raced down its wooden shaft. They
weren’t merely carved into the hammer— it was as though someone
had worked copper wire deep into the very metal of the hammer
during its forging, and as though tendrils of oak had grown through
the yew of the thick handle, all in the precise shapes of spellforms.
Godrick picked up the hammer and took a few steps back from
the others, making sure he had plenty of clear space around him. He
Other documents randomly have
different content
 Most of them fell far short of their mark, for the river had now
widened so that I was at least thirty feet from the shore whereon they
were standing.
But a few of these spearlets fell dangerously near me.
Fearing that their points might be poisoned, I determined to try
the effect of a pistol shot in the air.
The loud report of the fire-arm, and the puff of smoke which
followed it, filled the Umi-Lobas with the most abject fear.
They threw themselves on their faces and cried out that I was an
evil spirit.
I could now see that King Gâ-roo had given orders to let me sail
away in peace.
They made no further attempts to molest me, and yet it was very
plain that they were loth to part with the “little man all head,” for
whom their King and the princess Hoppâ-Hoppâ had conceived so
warm an affection.
I, too, felt a wrinkle in my heart as my little boat bore Bulger and
me away on the rippling waters of the beautiful river now grown so
wide that I was at least a hundred feet from the bank, and the palace
of King Gâ-roo began to fade away in the distance.
For several miles they followed the banks of the stream, keeping
opposite me, and ever and anon sending me a good bye in a soft and
plaintive voice.
Straining my eyes, I could see little princess Hoppâ-Hoppâ, borne
aloft on the shoulders of a group of serving-men, and waving me a
last adieu.
Then, once more, I caught the sound of that shrill baby voice:
“Good bye! Good bye! Little Man-All-Head! Hoppâ-Hoppâ says
good bye forever!”
And so I sailed away from the land of the Umi-Lobas, the land of
the Man-Hoppers!
In a few days the river began to broaden out and the land of the
Umi-Lobas was left far behind! The moment I caught sight of any
signs of human beings on the river banks, I steered my staunch little
boat into a broad cove, whose sloping shores led to lofty table lands.
Here, with tear-moistened eyes, I moored the little craft which had
snatched me from a life of keen, though silent, sorrow, and followed
by faithful Bulger, struck out boldly for the interior. After a few
weeks’ journeying I entered a country which was now and then
traversed by traders. They were astonished to find me traveling all
alone by myself, but readily accepted my statement that I had
become separated from a troop of traders, and that my horse had
died.
I now made haste to re-cross India and gain the shores of the
Mediterranean, whence I took passage for home, with a joyous heart
and a memory well-stored with quaint facts and curious
recollections.
BULGER AND I SAIL AWAY FROM THE LAND
OF THE UMI-LOBAS (MAN HOPPERS), IN MY
BEDSTEAD YACHT.
 CHAPTER VIII.

In the streets of Constantinople, I fall in with an Armenian merchant, who

presents me with a MS., 6,000 years old. It proves to be palimpsest. Its
wonderful contents. I learn of the existence of a boiling sea, and set sail in
search of it. Three of my seamen are swallowed by a marine monster. I rescue
them. We reach Neptune’s Caldron. Description of it and of its banks. Strange
adventures there. We set sail for home, but are overtaken by a fearful storm
which drives us on the coast of China. Bulger saves our lives. I am received
with great honor by the dignitaries of the province—am quartered in the
palace of So Too the Mandarin. Bulger incurs the enmity of the authorities. He
is accused of having an evil spirit, and is arrested and put on trial. I defend
him. He is condemned to death. My efforts to reverse the sentence are
successful. Strange adventures in the palace of the Lord Taou-tai. Bulger and I
are able to overcome all obstacles put in our way. We are accorded permission
to set out for a seaport where we take passage for home. Our joy in finding
ourselves safe out of the hands of our enemies.

While sauntering through the streets of

Constantinople, one day, loitering in front of the
bazars, or listening to the tales of some story-teller
on the street-corner, I fell in with an Armenian
merchant.
He was a man of varied attainments, had read
SOME much, traveled much, seen much.
CROWS We ate sweetmeats and drank coffee together for
LIKE several days.
BOILED He was so delighted with my keen intellect, sharp,
DINNERS.
nipping wit, and great powers of imagination, that he
expressed himself as being more than paid for his
journey to Constantinople, although he had not yet opened his packs.
 When the time came for us to part, he proceeded to loosen the
leather thongs which held down the lid of a strange looking chest,
whose top and sides were covered over with curious figures in inlays
of several colors.
From one corner of this receptacle he drew forth a volumen or roll-
book of antiquity.
To one end of it was attached, by a strip of parchment, a waxen
seal, stamped with what seemed to have been a monarch’s signet
ring. This ancient and venerable book exhaled a very musty smell.
The Armenian handled it carefully, saying:
“It is quite old; some 6,000 years.” Seeing astonishment depicted
on my countenance, he smiled and continued:
“Yes, 6,000 years! It has only been unrolled far enough for me to
decipher the nature of its contents. It treats of the human soul, and
pretends to have solved its mystery completely—a problem which has
baffled the philosophers of all ages. It even goes so far as to claim
that the essence which we call “soul” may be taken out of a body and
put into a bottle; that one soul may be thrust into a man’s body to
keep his own company, and that in this manner the whole world may
be reformed, made over; evil being entirely destroyed and good only
remaining.
“You smile, little baron, but it seems to me quite feasible. For
instance, this rare old book quite rightly assumes that if we could
thrust a good soul into a body already inhabited by a bad one, that
man or woman would henceforth cease to do evil, or, at least, the
good soul would continually betray its bad companion, and, altho’
the man might plan a murder, he would not fail to inform some one
of his dread purpose, and thus defeat his own ends.”
“Or,” continued the merchant, “take the case of a miser; by
thrusting the soul of a spendthrift into his body, his inclination to
hoard money and starve his family would be forever and always
opposed by an ardent desire to waste his earnings, and the result
would be that these two vices would neutralize each other; and so
with a drunkard or a thief: by placing the soul of a water-drinker in
the one and of a moral man in the other, a perfect reformation could
be brought about. This is a valuable book, little baron, but I give it to
you, merely exacting a promise from you that in case I am right in
my understanding of it, you will impart the secret to the fathers of
the church.”
I gave the merchant my promise, and not wishing to accept so
valuable a present without making some return therefore, I drew
from my finger a ring containing the petrified eye of a basilisk,
which, in the dark, emitted light enough to read the hour on a watch
dial.
He was almost tiresome in his expression of thanks.
We separated.
I laid the ancient volume away in my chest and gave no thought to
it until some time after my return home, when, one fine day, Bulger,
attracted by its very musty odor, seized it by the vellum strip holding
the seal and drew it forth from its hiding-place, then looked up at my
face as much as to say:
“What is it, any way, little master?”
I determined to unroll the book at once.
The merchant had warned me to be most careful in so doing, lest
the whole thing fly into a thousand pieces.
I therefore proceeded to prepare a wooden tablet or panel, which I
smeared with a strong glue, so that, as the parchment unwound, it
should be caught by this sticky surface and held firmly fast.
The plan succeeded admirably.
After several hours’ close application I was overjoyed to see the
volume entirely unrolled and held firmly and evenly to the surface of
the panel.
Fancy my delight, after the glue had dried sufficiently to make an
examination of the writing, to find that this ancient volume was a
palimpsest!
I felt instinctively that this dissertation upon the nature of the soul
was the sick man’s dream of some poor dweller in the double
darkness of ignorance and superstition. So I made haste to wash
away his fervid outpourings by a plentiful use of something still
hotter—namely, hot water and soap; for my studies had told me that
the ink used by the people of his time and generation contained no
mordant, and was, in fact, only lamp-black and grease.
I now got at the real contents of this venerable book.
 The writing was dim and shadowy. I did not let that trouble me,
for, skilled as I am in the chemist’s art, I lost no time in applying an
acid which restored the writing to its old time blackness.
I had some difficulty in deciphering the language in which it was
written—the ancient Phoenician—but, with the aid of several scores
of dictionaries, I finally rendered it into a modern tongue, passing it
through the Aramaic, thence into the Greek, and, finally, into my
own tongue.
When at last I had gotten over all difficulties and could read the
descriptions with that ease necessary to bring out their full sense, I
was nearly beside myself with joy.
It was the story of a voyage made by a venturesome navigator, six
thousand years ago, when the earth was still in its infancy; still hot in
some places; in fact, only the highest mountains and table lands had
cooled off enough to be habitable.
Pushing off from the shores of Arabia, this bold captain had
pointed his ship towards the rising sun.
And, wonder of wonders! after many awful perils and terrible
privations, he had entered waters which, to his almost unutterable
amazement, grew warmer and warmer as he sailed over them.
At first his men refused to proceed any farther, but by dint of
threats, persuasion and goodly presents, the bold sailor went his
way, wondering and rejoicing. After many days he entered a body of
water, which, from his descriptions, I at once recognized as the China
Sea. But now all further advance was impossible.
In vain his oarsmen lent their aid to drive the little vessel forward.
Huge waves of heated water, always from the same direction drove
his craft backward.
At last the truth of the matter dawned upon him.
He was on the outer edge of some vast boiling sea, which, rolling
its hot waves ever outward, drove back his cockle shell of a bark.
Making for a lofty promontory, he clambered to its highest point,
wearing thick felt shoes and gloves to protect his feet and hands from
the heated rocks.
A fearful and yet a sublimely beautiful sight met his gaze.
 For hundreds and hundreds of miles the waters were in a state of
most violent boiling, springing and leaping into the air as if a legion
of giant demons were beneath forcing their hot breath upward from
vast cavernous lurking places.
Upon reading of this boiling sea, I was seized with an
uncontrollable desire to go in search of it.
True the waters might have cooled down in all these centuries, and
yet I was confident I should find some trace of this once terrible
caldron of seething waters.
The China Sea was only slightly known to navigators of my day and
generation.
It had often been darkly hinted at that this vast body of water was
studded with wonderful isles and filled with rare monsters.
I had no time to lose.
Hastily penning a letter of adieu to my father and mother, I joined
my ship—accompanied by my ever faithful Bulger—and turned her
prow towards the rising sun.
So well were the waters of the East known to me, from my long
and close study of the most reliable charts, that I found I could
almost steer my craft through them blindfolded.
It was not many days ere I entered this beautiful expanse of water,
which, in the youth of the world, was filled with such marvelous
creatures swimming on it and in it.
Onward, ever onward, through its dark blue waves, now mounting
their foam-crested heights, now rocking like a thing of life upon this
billowy highway, my trusty little vessel ploughed her way. Ten times
a day, under plea of wishing to cool my brow in a basin of sea water, I
called out to some one of my men to let down a bucket, but only to
find, to my deep disappointment, that its temperature was no higher
than is usual in those latitudes.
I began to grow low-spirited. My crew noticed my dejection, and at
times my attentive ear caught murmurs of discontent.
To restore my men to their usual good spirits, I offered a reward of
a thousand ducats to the one who should first discover that the water
was growing warmer.
A thousand ducats!
 It was a goodly sum, but I was growing desperate.
The large reward, however, had one good effect; it put new life into
my men.
All day long buckets rattled against the ship’s side.
Three of the more venturesome men hit upon a plan to earn the
reward and divide it among them.
Lashing themselves together, they then lowered themselves down
over the side of the vessel, until their feet just touched the water.
Here they determined to stay, so that they might be the first to
announce the increase of warmth in the water, and in this way make
sure of the thousand ducats.
Suddenly a fearful outcry, accompanied by the most piteous
whining on the part of Bulger, caused me to rush up on deck.
A sea-monster, a third as long as our ship, had risen directly under
them.
Motionless with fright, they fell an easy prey to this terrible foe.
Opening his vast, cavernous jaws, he swallowed the whole three at
a single gulp!
My men were wild with grief!
They heaped mad words of reproach upon me.
I had great difficulty in restoring anything like order or discipline.
My commands fell upon deaf ears.
At last I succeeded in quieting the raging, weeping crowd.
Knowing from my experience with such dread inhabitants of the
deep, that this monster had only whetted his appetite by these
morsels of human flesh, I directed my men to make haste and
construct a straw man, using clothes of the same color as those worn
by the three unfortunates.
Into the bosom of this effigy I stored away a quarter quintal of
ipecacuanha, of prime quality, which, by good luck, I found in my
stock of medicines.
The dummy was now lowered to the water’s edge, at exactly the
same spot where the monster had made his luncheon on my three
excellent seamen.
We had not long to wait.
 He rose to the bait in a few moments, and, opening his huge jaws,
thrust out a tongue as large and as red as a roasted ox, and gulped
down the savory morsel I had provided for him, with a rumbling
gurgle which made my blood run cold.
Recovering myself, I sprang up into the shrouds and kept my eyes
fixed upon this rare monster, who floated away lazily a ship’s length
and then came to a dead halt.
Ever and anon a quiver shot thro’ the entire length of his body.
Evidently he was having no little difficulty in swallowing this last
morsel.
Huge ridges formed about his neck and rolled backward till they
were lost beneath the waters. A certain uneasiness now marked his
movements.
He rolled from side to side, opening and shutting his jaws with a
snap that sounded like the bang of two great oaken doors.
The dainty quarter quintal of ipecacuanha was manifestly
beginning to distress him.
His rocking and rolling motion increased in violence.
At one moment his huge body turned upon its side, bent itself until
head and tail met; at another it arched itself in the air until its black
back spanned the waters like a bow.
I now felt that it was time to act.
“Stand by the starboard launch!” I called out to my men. “Avast
that blubbering! All ready?”
“Ay! ay!” came back from the gang.
“Lower away, then!”
I was not a whit too quick with my orders.
The launch had no sooner struck the water than the sea-monster—
after a series of terrible contortions, during which it almost seemed
as if his huge body would be snapped in twain—began to disgorge the
varied contents of his stomach.
First, shower after shower of many colored fishes, of all sizes, from
a hand’s length to three cubits, filled the air.
As they fell into the water, they calmly swam away, no doubt well
pleased to find themselves in more agreeable surroundings.
 Thousands of shell fish, all kinds, sizes and colors, then came
flying forth, rattling their claws together as they fell into the water, as
if in defiance at their huge foe that had been so unceremoniously
called upon to give up the results of many a long hour’s hunt.
The living was followed by the dead, for now came forth several
wooden buckets, three old blankets, numerous bits of plank, rope
ends, shreds of sail, paint pots, bundles of oakum, and wads of
cotton, all of which he had picked up while following in the wake of
our vessel. At last the man of straw was cast out high into the air with
a deep grunt of satisfaction.
After him came number one of the lost seamen.
Numbers two and three were not slow in arriving.
The launch made haste to pick them up, leaving the sick monster
to recover his health and spirits as well he might.
Bulger received the rescued men with the wildest manifestations of
delight, and clapping on all sail, away we bounded before a rattling
breeze.
To my infinite joy, the water now began to increase in warmth.
Hour by hour the rise in temperature, although slow, was steady.
“At length, my men!” cried I to my crew, “we are on the right track.
Be patient! I promise you that before the sun has quenched his fire in
the western seas we shall cast anchor in Neptune’s Caldron!”
My predictions came true to the very letter.
Just as the last rays of sunlight were gilding the foam-crested
waves of this mysterious sea, a long, low line of shore was sighted
dead ahead, ending in a precipitous headland.
Bearing away we rounded this and found ourselves at the entrance
of a large land-blocked bay or gulf, from different points in which
huge columns of snow-white steam floated lazily skyward, twisting
themselves in most fantastic shapes ere they vanished in the purple
twilight.
My men sent up a loud, long, lusty cheer, as we sailed into
Neptune’s Caldron.
As we drew near shore, to my great bewilderment, for I had not
dared to think that living creatures could exist in these heated
waters, I caught sight of moving things in the Caldron. Nay, there
could be no doubt, for these heated waters were as limpid as a
mountain spring and the bottom plainly visible ten fathoms below.
Fish of all colors and sizes floated hither and thither, while
myriads of crabs, lobsters and other queerly shaped crustaceans
crawled about on the snow-white sands, following their leaders in
long lines, like a procession of cardinals, over the white marble
pavement of some great city in the western world.
I say “crimson lines,” for the heat of the water had clothed them all
in suits of richest red.
As I sat in the ship’s launch on my way to the shore, gazing
dreamily down into the waters, half-dazed by these marvellous
sights, a shoal of fish rose near the boat and turned their beautiful
tinted sides for an instant to the cool air.
To my amazement I saw that their eyes were sightless, that the
extreme heat of the waters had clouded their limpid orbs milk white
and shut out the light forever!
A cold chill crept over me, for, to me, the spectacle was as uncanny
as if the carp had sprung from the elder baron’s table and begun to
swim about in their native element once more.
But the list of strange things was not yet exhausted, for as I drew
nearer to the beach, you may imagine my mingled wonder and
amusement at seeing scores of fish with their backs planted against
the sand furrows, calmly fanning themselves with their broad, flat
tails.
Upon setting foot upon the shore, I was astonished to find the
land, for far as the eye could reach, covered deep with millions and
millions of eggs of different sizes, varying from that of a pigeon to
that of an albatross or wild goose.
In places these eggs lay in heaps far higher than my head; in others
they were ranged in long lines, like white furrows turned by some
gigantic plough!
Suddenly the truth dawned upon me. To these shores vast flocks of
sea-birds came to lay their eggs year after year, attracted by the
warmth of the atmosphere. There they build their rude nests and fill
them with eggs and enter upon the task of hatching out their young,
when suddenly the heated waters hurled by some gale or resistless
current, rises upon their resting places and spreads death where life
was just beginning, by cooking the countless thousands of eggs which
fill their nests. And so on from year to year, until now I behold the
work of a thousand floods, which have in turn added their
contribution to this vast stock!
While standing on the shores of this wonderland, one morning,
gazing out across the steaming surface of Neptune’s Caldron, several
of my crew came running toward me with startled mien and great
outcry, all pointing skyward. I turned and looked in the direction
indicated.
A vast cloud, black and threatening, hung in the heavens.
As I stood watching it, it broadened and widened until it fairly
darkened the light of day.
My men were now on their knees, uttering the most piteous
lamentations, for they imagined the end of the world was at hand.
I commanded them sternly to leave off their wailing and groaning,
for I saw that the great black cloud was simply an enormous flock of
birds, of what species I could not then tell.
Nearer and nearer they came, with the sound like the rushing of
wild winds.
They covered the whole sky like an inky pall.
It was evident to me that they intended alighting upon the shore of
the Caldron, and fearing lest their immense numbers, in settling
down, might smother us, I called out to my men to stand by the
ship’s launch.
There was no time to lose.
For, as we pushed out from the shore, tens of thousands of these
birds—a species of crow, but twice the size of those at home—began
to settle down in long rows as far as the eye could reach.
For the first, now I noticed that every crow held something in its
claws. I looked again, and saw that each of these birds carried an
immense mollusk, fully as large as a watchman’s club and something
the same shape. Imagine my mingled surprise and amusement upon
observing that those in the first row were now making for the water’s
edge. Approaching cautiously, each crow thrust his mollusk into the
shoal waters of the Caldron and stood by, with eyes sparkling with
joyful anticipation, to watch for results.
 He had not long to wait.
Unaccustomed to the great heat of the water, the mollusk soon
began to open its shell, first cautiously, but as the hot water poured
in upon it, with great precipitation, fairly with a snap. Waiting for a
moment or so until the hot water had curled the animal quite free
from its shell, the fastidious birds then partook of the savory
contents, gave a few caws of grateful acknowledgement, and
withdrew to make room for the next row. This changing places,
cooking of provisions and feasting lasted for half a day.
By that time the entire flock had exhausted its raw material. Then
with deafening cries and loud flapping of pinions, these feathered
epicures rose into the air and disappeared as they had come.
Fain would I have prolonged my stay upon the shores of Neptune’s
Caldron, but I observed that the steam from the waters was
disagreeable to Bulger.
With speaking eyes, he implored me to hoist sail and seek some, to
him pleasanter land.
I could not withstand that appeal.
So I made a farewell survey of the egg mounds, gazed my last at
the red-shelled crustaceans and chalky-eyed fish of the Caldron and
went aboard of my staunch vessel.
Heading now westward, I crowded sail, intending to hug the China
Coast pretty closely on my homeward voyage. All went well for the
first few days after leaving Neptune’s Caldron.
Bulger ranged the deck, playing the maddest capers.
Thoughts of home now began to occupy my mind.
The elder baron was growing old. I felt that I ought not to prolong
my voyage. He might be in need of my counsels.
Suddenly, one day, at high noon, the skies darkened, the winds
sprang up.
I thought nothing of it.
It will only be a mad romp, which will serve right well to blow us
along homeward.
But, oh, what a short-sighted creature is vain man, who thinks to
read the signs of the skies, the winds and the waves!
 The merry whistling of the wind soon gave place to the dismal
howl of the blast.
The storm fiend was stalking abroad.
The startled waters now leaped wildly up from their beds, rolled
tumultuously onward, whipped into foam and fury by ten thousand
lashes of the blast, till, in their mad efforts to escape, they dashed
themselves against the very clouds.
The scene was terrible. ’Twas useless to command, for not a throat
of steel could have drowned the wild yells of the tempest.
To my horror, I discovered that we had sprung a leak.
The pitch and tar, softened by the heat of the water in Neptune’s
Caldron, had bulged from the ship’s joints and allowed the calking to
escape.
Like a sheet of card board, our rudder was now torn from its place
and whirled away on the crest of a giant billow.
Behold us now at the very mercy of the storm, the plaything of
wind and wave, a cockle shell fallen on the battle ground of nature’s
waning elements.
Bulger, lashed to the rigging by my side, uttered no plaint, no cry
of fear, no sound of distrust.
I could see that his speaking eyes were following me about as
much as to say:
“I am not afraid, little master, so long as you are by me.”
I could feel my heart thump out a loud “thank thee, dear, faithful,
little friend!”
From time to time I passed my hand caressingly over his head and
neck.
His tail moved sadly, but I knew its meaning.
It meant:
“Little master, I am ready to die; ay, most willing to die, if I can die
with you by my side.”
It really seemed as if his love was about to be put to a final test for
the dreadful cry of—“Breakers ahead!” was passed from man to man
till it reached my ears.
It was only too true.
 Their roar now broke upon my ears, faint, low but deep, terrible,
half like distant thunder or the growl of some gigantic beast of prey.
In a few brief moments we were on the reef.
With a terrible crash our staunch little vessel leaped upon the
rocks and wedged herself in, tight and fast, between two jagged
ledges.
The relentless sea now broke over and over us.
“Oh! if the day would only break!” I murmured, “possibly we might
find some means to reach the main land.”
To stay here simply means destruction.
After hours of the severest suffering, for every sea which broke
over us seemed as if bent upon the fell purpose of tearing our limbs
from their lashings—day came at last.
I discovered now that we were about a quarter of a mile from the
main land.
With my glass, I could distinguish great crowds of people running
hither and thither on shore. But they made no effort to send us
succor or to encourage us to cling to the wreck until the storm should
abate.
What was to be done?
With a fearful crash, our masts now went by the board.
Our ship was showing signs of breaking up.
Neither threat nor reward could move any one of my men to
attempt to swim ashore with a line.
The sun now burst forth in a blaze of golden light.
I could feel the tears gather in my eyes as I looked about and saw
the sad ravages of wind and wave.
Although the storm had abated somewhat of its fury, there was no
time to be lost.
Dread creakings of the ship’s timbers warned me to leave the
wreck ere I should be crushed against the rocks.
Only disorder and confusion seemed to characterize the
movements of the crowds gathered on shore.
While apparently aware of the terrible import of our signals of
distress, they showed no inclination to risk their lives in trying to
save ours.
Turning to Bulger I cried out:
“O, dearest Bulger! thou tried and true friend, companion of my
sorrows and sharer of my every joy, thou alone canst save us! Thou
alone canst rescue thy loving master and these poor wretched
creatures from impending death! I know thy courage; I know thy
affection. In thy radiant eyes I read thy willingness to do or die!”
From his earliest youth I had trained Bulger to be a bold and
skilful swimmer. No eddy, current, undertow or whirlpool was angry
or wild enough to strike any fear to his stout heart.
With ease, at my commands, he would dive two fathoms deep and
bring the smallest coin from the bottom.
Our vessel might go to pieces at any moment, for she had
wrenched herself loose from the rocky ledge and was pounding on
the jagged, flinty edges of the reef with a wild and ungovernable fury.
Every fleeting moment became more precious than its
predecessor.
Making a superhuman effort, I caught the end of a reel of twine,
and, having fastened it to Bulger’s collar, bade him leap into the
bubbling, boiling, seething, swirling, madly-rolling waters, storm-
lashed, whipped into foam, till billow broke on billow and all seemed
but one mingled mass of fury, rage and fright. With a rapid
succession of anxious, whining cries followed by a series of quick,
loud, sharp barks, Bulger gave me one last look; and, placing his
paws on the taffrail, sprang lightly over and disappeared.
My heart stood still for a moment.
But look!
He rises!
He strikes out for the shore, now tossed like a bit of cork on the
arched backs of a storm-affrighted billow, now sunken out of sight
into the foam-flecked trough of the sea.
Look again!
Hark! I can catch the faint sound of that sharp, joyous bark sent
back to cheer his little master’s heart.
And now he is gone!
 I see him not; but as the twine runs through my hands, I can
almost feel every throb of that dear, stout heart!
Steadily he keeps at his work, for steadily and rapidly the reel spins
round.
Crack!
There goes our keel in twain.
Quick, good Bulger; the end is near!
But look!
What means that commotion on shore?
See the crowd, how it presses down to the very breaker’s edge!
Now they fall back!
Hark!
Did you not hear that shout?
Saved! Saved!
Bulger has landed!
The men on shore have hold of the twine.
The reel whirls swiftly around!
My men, ashamed of their cowardice, crawl from their hiding-
places and set to work with a will.
Already they have fastened a line to the end of the twine and it is
moving briskly over the rail.
There can be no doubt now.
Bulger has saved us!
Springing into the main-shrouds and shielding my mouth from the
gale with my hands, I called out to my men:
“Stand by the hawser! Make fast the line! Now heave, O! Let go
all!”
With an angry splash the hawser fell into the sea and was soon on
its way shorewards.
And this was the way Bulger saved the life of master, mate and
twelve seamen!
I was the last man to leave the ship.
 As I did so, she shook herself loose, drew back, ran hard on the
rocks with such a terrific blow that she broke into pieces as if struck
by lightening bolt or some gigantic hammer wielded by an unseen
Thor.
With a wild cry of joy Bulger met me as I was drawn through the
breakers.
I threw myself on my knees and covered him with kisses, while
tears rolled hot and fast down my cheeks.
The people of the land gathered group-wise about us and watched
our interchanging of caresses in deepest silence, agitating their
thumbs and twitching the corners of their mouths.
“What land is this? Where are we, good people?” I inquired, after
this first outpouring of love and gratitude had spent its fervor.
“Bold barbarians!” replied one of the nearest group, whose richer
dress bespoke the man of rank and authority, “thou standest on the
shores of the mighty dominion of Kublai, Child of the Sun, Lord of
the Imperial Yellow Garb, Knight of all the Buttons, Man of the
Sacred Countenance, Successor to all the Glories of his Ancestors
now Guests of Heaven, Source of all Law and Equity, and Chevalier
of all the Orders, and we are his wretched, miserable, unworthy,
good-for-nothing slaves!”
Whereupon the entire multitude performed the kowtow.
“So then! I cried, most puissant, noble, and altogether delightful,
Sir,”—at the same time performing the kowtow with that grace which
only the genuine citizen of the world can command—“I stand upon
the sacred soil of the mighty Chinese Empire.”
“Aye, bold barbarian,” answered the speaker, “in the province of
Kwang Tung, in the district of Yang-chiang, of which I, So Too,
Mandarin of the White Glass Button, am Imperial superintendent.”
Hearing this, I begged So Too to give me leave to speak, which
granted, in a brief but eloquent speech, well larded with all those
savory epithets so sweet to the ears of an official in that land, I told
him of my illustrious family, my strange desire to scour the remotest
seas and least-visited lands for marvellous things; how I had sailed in
search of Neptune’s Caldron, of the strange things seen there, of my
setting out on my voyage homeward, my encounter with the storm-
fiend, and last of all, my shipwreck on the shores of the boundless
dominions of the Child of the Sun.
And now, all that I craved from the servants of the Man of the
Sacred Countenance was such aid and assistance as would enable me
and my men to reach the nearest seaport where foreign ships cast
anchor, so that we might go down to the sea once more and reach our
loved ones. To all this So Too gave response with a most gracious
smile, and then invited me to pass beneath his roof, lay off my wet
clothes, drink some warm tea, and have his rubbers smooth the
wrinkles out of my tired flesh.
My seamen were not forgotten. His retainers were ordered to look
well after their wants.
Just as we were about to set out for So Too’s residence, several of
his body guards struck their gongs a furious blow.
The din was ear-splitting.
With a loud bark Bulger rushed towards me, and laying one ear
against my leg closed his other with his paw.
So Too and his retainers, at seeing this to me laughable sight,
looked grave, agitated their thumbs and twitched the corners of their
mouths.
Just as I was about crossing So Too’s threshold, to my
inexpressible chagrin I discovered that I had lost my purse
containing a large sum of money. In a desperate hope that I might
have dropped it on the sea shore, I bounded away in that direction,
but I had not gone a hundred paces ere I met Bulger carrying the
purse in his mouth. I had in truth dropped it while kneeling on the
beach and caressing my beloved rescuer.
Noting that in my eagerness to follow my gracious host, I had not
missed the lost treasure, Bulger had driven away several of So Too’s
retainers, who manifested a desire to appropriate the pouch of gold
to their own use, and picking it up in his teeth, had raced after me as
fast as his burden would permit.
As we crossed So Too’s threshold, several small, woolly dogs
sprang out and gathered about Bulger. They were apparently
delighted to meet with one of their race, so distinguished in
appearance and dignified in carriage. Fain would they have
exchanged the usual canine civilities with Bulger, but he absolutely
declined to enter into any conversation with them or to express any
surprise at these extraordinary looking cousins of his, which seemed
like so many animated bundles of freshly-ginned cotton. Keeping
close at my heels, he skillfully avoided their advances, and gave a low
growl of relief when the door of the ante-chamber was closed upon
them.
After a warm bath, my stiffened limbs were limbered up by the
stroking, patting and rubbing of So Too’s bath assistants.
I was then invited to encase my body in a rich suit of embroidered
silk, and this done, was conducted into the presence of the amiable
So Too, who received me with a smile that was as persistent as it was
broad.
Several hours were now consumed in drinking tea, eating dainty
little sugar cakes, and telling each other the most extravagant and
shameless fibs in the shape of compliments,—compliments about
everything, voice, eyes, ears, chin, mouth, hands, feet, etc. Although I
only reached to So Too’s shoulder, he regretted, in a piteous tone, his
lack of stature and praised my tall, stately, noble, commanding
height.
Overcome at last by sheer exhaustion, So Too closed his eyes and
appeared to have dropped off in a little nap.
Seizing upon the opportunity, I raised my voice and began to urge
upon him the necessity of immediate action with regard to me and
my men.
Whereupon he arose, and after a series of kowtows, the same
broad smile playing around his wide mouth and small kindly black
eyes—withdrew to consult with his assistant, sub-assistant, and first
and second sub-assistants.
It was quite dark when So Too re-entered the room.
Bulger and I, during his absence, had slept most soundly.
No wonder, for we were both tired to the bone.
Orders were now given to illuminate the halls and apartments.
In a few moments, thousands of the most brilliantly colored and
quaintly decorated lanterns shed a delightfully soft glow over
everybody and everything.
 Again we took our places around the superbly decorated table
which held the paraphernalia for brewing tea and the exquisitely
painted cups and saucers of egg-shell thinness, and the tea drinking
and cake-eating were resumed. Again I skillfully turned the
conversation to the subject of my departure for the nearest seaport.
Again So Too arose and backed out of the room for the purpose of
holding another consultation.
By this time my stock of patience had dwindled down
considerable.
Every moment I could feel my blood grow warmer and warmer.
After a delay of half an hour or so, a retainer entered to inform me
that So Too had fallen asleep in the council-room, and that no one
save a Mandarin with an opaque blue, transparent blue, flowered red
or plain red button could presume to awaken him, and that there was
no Mandarin of so exalted a dignity within fifty miles of that spot.
At these words my blood fairly boiled over.
I sprang to my feet and began to pace the floor like a caged animal.
Coming to a halt in front of a tall lacquer cabinet loaded down with
costly porcelain cups and vases, I raised my foot, and kicking out
vigorously, toppled the thing over on the floor.
The crash was terrible.
I was really startled, for I was afraid I had knocked half the house
down.
But I had the satisfaction of seeing the Mandarin come rushing
into the room, followed by assistants, sub-assistants, gong-beaters,
sword-bearers, head-shavers, ear-ticklers, tongue-scrapers, nail-
polishers, and skin-rubbers, besides many others of his retainers,
whose offices and callings were unknown to me.
“You have deliberated, now decide!” I exclaimed in a tone of voice
that for depth and volume would have done credit to the hero of a
blood curdling drama; and at the same moment I placed the sole of
my foot against another cabinet, quite as lofty as the one I had just
toppled over, and quite as richly laden with curios, vases and ivories.
So Too was now wide awake and not at all anxious to see this
second cabinet share the fate of the first.
 “Thy foot to its place!” he called out, waving me to a seat, and
placing himself between me and the threatened cabinet. “Thy foot to
its place, my gracious benefactor.”
After he had seen me safely seated, he continued thus:
“Know, then, my gentle guest, that I, So Too, Imperial Mandarin of
the white glass button, after mature deliberation with my most
honorable Council, do order and decree that thou and thy servants
shall be, as thou hast prayed, forthwith conducted to the city of
Canton, and there be delivered into the keeping and custody of the
officers of him of the Sacred Countenance, until opportunity shall
present itself to procure means of sending thee and thy servants back
to your native land!”
Here I bent my body in token of my profound gratitude.
The Mandarin likewise made a low obeisance, and then continued:
“I do further decree that the evil spirit which attends thee in the
shape of a dog shall be at once bound with chains and cast into
prison there to await, his trial for witchcraft!”
Had So Too plunged a two-edged knife into my vitals I could not
have felt a more agonizing hurt.
“Bulger? My beloved—Arrested? Witchcraft? Chains; Prison?” I
stammered out.
“I have so decreed!” calmly replied So Too. “Oh! no! no! no! I
cried, it cannot—it must not be! He is no evil spirit—no evil dwells in
him. He is but a simple, loving, intelligent dog! I crave suspension of
this terrible decree! What hath he done? O beloved Bulger, is this thy
reward for saving fourteen human lives? Is this the way in which
thou art to be repaid for all thy courage, thy love, thy devotion? O,
no! no! Kill me if you will, cruel stranger, thrust me into a prison cell,
but spare Bulger, spare him——”
I could say no more.
It grew black before me. A fit of vertigo came upon me. I staggered,
reeled, fell lifeless to the floor.
When I came to my senses, So Too’s servants were busy rubbing
and chafing my hands and feet and burning pungent wax beneath my
nostrils. Bulger, uttering the most piteous and anxious cries, was
hastening from one side to the other, pausing now and then for an
instant to lick my hand or face. I sat upright to collect my senses;
then clasping Bulger in my arms I patted, smoothed, kissed and
caressed him amid a hundred sighs and groans, heart-rending
enough to melt a breast of stone. Then throwing myself on my knees
in front of So Too, I implored him to be merciful—to spare a faithful,
loving being, whose heart was as free from guile as the flinty rock
from tenderness; whose life had but one thought: to serve, guard,
defend, save his master.
“Rise, unfortunate stranger!” was So Too’s reply, in a tone of deep
commiseration, taking me by the hand and gently compelling me to
be seated by his side. “List! If thou shouldst slice my body into ten
thousand pieces I could not revoke this decree. Know that in this
land of the Child of the Sun, a magistrate may not unsay his words.
Mercy belongs to him, who dwells in higher places. This creature
which thou lovest so, hath been adjudged to be an evil spirit. It is a
favorite form of theirs; for as the dog is man’s close and trusted
companion, malevolent spirits are most likely to assume that form,
when desirous of obtaining admission to his house and heart in order
to work his ruin. This wild and unreasoning affection for thy dog
proves only too clearly that the evil spirit which dwells within him
has already drawn the black lines of his mysterious art thrice around
thy soul. Thrice three times will complete his dread purpose. Thou
wilt then be lost forever! ’Tis well that some good spirit of the air or
water hath delivered thee into the keeping of the Child of the Sun.
For now, upon the trial in the Imperial Chamber of Perfect Justice,
thine eyes will be opened; thou wilt be fully persuaded that an evil
spirit of tremendous size and fearful power is squeezed into that
small creature.”
“Never!” I exclaimed with flashing eye and glowing cheek.
So Too smiled faintly and laying his hand upon my arm continued:
“Soft, illustrious guest, thou forgettest that Perfect Justice dwells in
the bosom of our gracious Monarch. His ministers and judges have
tongues; but they are not their own; they only utter the thought of
the Imperial mind; therefore, what they decree must be right!”
“And if the Court,” I inquired, with bated breath, “should decree
that some evil spirit hath taken up its abode, as thou claimest, in the
body of my faithful Bulger—what—what—would be the—the—
penalty?”