Chapter 23: Hidden behind shelves

“You idiot!” Spared admonished me while I ran away from Makka. “There’s no need to rush it; the risks are too big!”

It’s not that I didn’t know there would be other opportunities in the further future, but I couldn’t just outright discard one of them. What if Yaraq decided it was time to kill me again? What if the Drak’oora found The way of the old Ink? What if they changed the formation? There were too many suppositions to throw away that chance.

I flew through the streets, ignoring Spare’s relentless curses, brushing aside all the looks I got on the way to the Compendium. I barely felt my hand; it was but a weight at the end of my numbing arm. As I approached the building, I slowed my pace, trying to look normal. It was close to impossible; the pain wouldn’t let me put on a relaxed face.

Lowering my head, hoping nobody would notice my pained expression, I walked through the rooms and shelves. I had to take a few detours and wait until the anteroom was cleared of people to finally meet the locked door.

Time was of the essence; every second mattered. After making sure no one would be bumping into me, I rapidly approached the formation. Imitating Drak’oora Poiza’s actions, I hesitantly moved my arm. I tried to move it, actually, as I had to use my other one to push it upwards and hold my hand above the drawing. If I should have felt anything when both tattoos met, then my extremity was in a worse state than I had anticipated.

There was no other way of knowing if it had worked than trying to step over it. I cautiously moved my foot over the wood, testing the waters. My sole should have made contact with its hard surface, but there was no feedback. I let it go through the illusion, stepping to the other side; half my leg was hidden behind the door.

Letting go of all the air I had been holding, I moved my other leg and fully crossed to the other side. Visually, it was baffling, one moment, you saw the wood’s knots and veins, and the other, it was all shelves and books. It was disappointing to find nothing different than outside; I secretly wished there would be shiny and secret treasures. On the other hand, that way I didn’t have to resist the temptation of stealing them, which would for sure get me caught.

The room, filled to the brim with shelf after shelf of books, was illuminated by the faint and twinkling flames of several candles strategically placed not to burn any book. The room, deceptively so, looked small, no bigger than the other side. Yet, those grey, depressing walls stood further than it seemed. A quick look confirmed that those shelves were distributed in no less than ten rows with an equally large number of columns.

Now what, I mainly thought to myself. All I could see was a pile of books after another; I had no idea where to start from or what to look for.

“Exactly! Now, what!?” Spare answered with an angry shout, even though the question was not for him. “You are acting like a stupid kid, I had never considered you to be one, yet here you are!”

Not now! My answer came as a bark, partly enraged because I knew he was right; I had little time left and too much to do.

Instead of calmly looking over each row of books, I let panic take the better of me and started running from rack to rack. My eyes moved from one spine to the other, partially reading spines and glyphs, trying to identify if any of those were from the old set. Be it that I didn’t correctly inspect them or that I simply had no luck, but after ten minutes of frantic search, I had yet to find anything interesting.

I was on my way to the third row of shelves when the sound of footsteps interrupted me; it’s at least two people, I judged by the arrhythmic sounds of the steps coming from the entrance. I shook my head to either side, seeking any other room, or at least some secluded corner where I could go unnoticed, but there was no such thing.

The steps were nearing; I could hear some low voices, not loud enough to identify them yet. I dropped myself on the ground, making as little noise as I could. There were barely four fingers of space between the floor and the wooden frame of the shelf, just enough for me to close my right eye and peek. I quickly located two pairs of shoes going parallel to my own corridor, although I couldn’t accurately tell if they were two or three rows away.

They kept on walking, my heart skipping a beat when I saw them turn towards me. I rushedly got up and went deeper into the corridor, turning right just as their voices reached me.

“-should be over here,” Drak’oora Layan said while approaching the place I was in just a moment ago. I was peeping from the corner, hidden behind a bunch of books.

“I already told you, Layan, it is not!” Drak’oora Poiza replied in an angry voice.

True, I thought, yesterday she came to the private library. Didn’t she find what she was looking for? Poiza was looking at Layan with an exasperated face as the latter combed through the mess of volumes. I couldn’t see Layan’s expression, but I bet she was neither pleased with having to do that kind of job.

Eventually, after some minutes of unsuccessful search, she got up, facing both me and Poiza. She was squinting, moving her tongue all around her lower teeth, probably worried about what the meaning of that disappearance was.

“I will look in-” she let the sound drag for a split second in the air; her eyes momentarily focusing in my direction, “-to it, rest assured.”

I resisted the urge to do a sudden movement and to run away. If, as I suspected, she had seen, it was already too late for that. I felt my heart beating on my neck as the Drak’ooras did the Drak’gath salute, and Poiza undid her steps. Layan, however, stood there, still looking in my direction, not moving a single inch.

When Poiza’s steps could no longer be heard, she finally started moving towards me. It couldn’t be any other way. My heart felt like coming out of my mouth; I could count the times I had been so tense with the fingers of one hand.

“So, did you steal it?” It was the voice of a mother speaking to his guilty child, full of pity and adoration.

I decided it was time I abandoned my failure of a hideout and met my fate, whatever it was. I slowly walked to the light, just then noticing that my whole arm wasn’t there; I couldn’t feel it at all, it was just a hanging member rubbing on my side.

“It?” I could only say, both due to my confusion about what I had supposedly robbed and the pain I was in after the adrenaline was gone. She studied me, visibly perplexed by my answer. “I broke in five, maybe ten minutes ago, I’ve had no time to steal anything.” I was forced to add.

Maybe it was my haggard appearance, but she slowly nodded as if she trusted my words. “How did you enter?”

Making an extraordinary effort, I raised my useless appendix with my other arm, failing to contain any pained expression. I wanted to turn my palm, but I just couldn’t do it. “On my palm,” I finally surrendered.

She took my hand, opened it, and examined the drawing. “You must be in quite some pain,” her words were right on point. “It’s not a bad drawing, but it failed to eliminate some of the failsafe mechanisms.” Her finger was following part of the outter circle, moving through some of its connecting lines.

“Listen carefully,” she said while materializing a thin and tiny dagger, no longer than my own hand. “I will treat it, but your explanation,” her fingers pointed around us, making clear she meant the reason I was there, “better be a good one.” I wanted to answer, but her finger raised, stopping me. “Now, bite.”

She brought that dagger’s grip closer to my mouth, catching me utterly unprepared by the development. I had assumed the blade would be a deterrent element to make me speak. I had barely left my marks on the soft surface of that handle when I felt something stabbing on my numb hand. At first, I was elated about having recovered touch sense, but the celebration quickly ended, making me wish the contrary. Starting in the middle of my finger, right where I had been stabbed, a discharge traveled through my arm and right into my head.

My jaw tensed beyond any limit I had ever deemed possible, making the wood between my teeth growl. I felt my arm burning, having to look to confirm it was only mental. Every second intensified the pain, making me wish I had just lost my arm. I gasped for air, doing my best no to convulse with my whole body.

She ignored everything I did; her eyes were focused entirely on the drawing. As it became fuller, I felt as if I had met an old friend, reunited again after decades of not seeing each other. I guessed she was about to finish when I could finally move one finger, a barely noticeable spasm, but a movement after all.

“I don’t have any bandages,” she said while pinching me along the arm. “Do you feel it?” I nodded; it was a faint tingling under the layer of pain I was feeling, but it was there. “When we are done, visit the infirmary. So...” The o was purposely dragged.

I was still out of me, but that was a clear clue to my entrance. I had to explain what I was doing inside there, and I had to do so without involving Makka and Yaira. As long as she doesn’t ask me to explain in detail the formation on my hand, I can keep Makka out of the picture. Yaira shouldn’t be a problem either.

“I all started the first day I visited the Compendium. Ah, do you mind if we…” I pointed towards the floor, dying to sit and let my arm rest. After her approval and once we were both seated, I continued the story. “I was looking through the shelves when I found an old book, I’ve called it The way of the Old Ink, but that’s just an interpretation on the glyphs on its spi-”

“Way, truth, Ink.” She said, enumerating the glyphs on the spine with absolute certainty. “Where do you say you found it?”

“On the public section, I don’t really remember the shelf. I was just randomly checking books when this one caught my attention.” It might have seemed like a cheap excuse to her, but the truth was that I wouldn’t be able to remember even if I tried for hours.

“Did you read it?” She asked, ignoring my explanation, to which I nodded. “Did you draw them?” I nodded again, not seeing any point in hiding the truth. Strangely and certainly unexpectedly, a roguish smile appeared on her face. “Did you hear Her?”

I was torn two ways; I wanted to say I did, but I wasn’t sure it was the case. Nor was I sure it would be wise to admit it. I hesitated, more than I should have if I intended to keep silent about the voice. So much that there was no longer the need for me to answer.

“You did!” I sighed, and for the third time already, nodded. “And you want to learn more, but found nothing outside, so you decided it was a good idea to steal from the private library…” She completed the missing pieces all by herself, without any need for me to intervene, pausing to think a moment after.

“I will give you the books you are looking for,” she said after a whole minute of silence. I sensed there was a but coming, and indeed she didn’t let me down. “However, one day, I will ask for one favor, and you won’t say no.” Her finger spiraled on my palm and then went up on my arm. Her macabre grin and fierce eyes made it clear that it was not an attempt of seduction; it was a threat. I hold the future of your arm, it said. Although I knew it was much more than that, she could snap her fingers and have me killed or exiled.

“Can I even say no?” I asked, already knowing the answer to my question.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she laughed while getting up and signaling me to wait there with her hand. I saw her turning on the first junction, shortly followed by the noises of books being drawn and consulted.

“You are in a big mess. A favor in exchange for hidden knowledge? Tsk!” Spare ironically moaned. “Be prepared to do whatever it takes.”

I was not in the mood of answering him. I knew that it wouldn’t be a trivial and straightforward favor; whatever she was thinking of, I couldn’t even begin to imagine. And that’s precisely what made it worse, not knowing what she could ask for.

I was still tormenting myself with the idea when I saw Layan coming back with three thick books. “I don’t think you are up for tattooing, are you?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, directly lying by my side. “I’ll use a formation to draw them on your foot’s sole; make sure nobody finds them.”

“The great beasts of the East,” she began drawing. “True communion with Ink,” the second book was carved on my skin. “Survey of antic glyphs, formations, and sigils,” She finished her job.

“You can’t ever come back here,” her voice was authoritative, “come at my office if you finish.” She stood up. “Oh! Before I go, I need to know where The way of the old Ink is,” she said, using the name I had given the book. I told her the section, row, and column, along with what books she needed to set aside. It was not hard to find if you were looking for it.

“There’s no such thing as chance or accidents!” She jovially shouted as she was about to cross the door.

I waited five minutes, hidden behind some shelves in case someone else came in, before rushing through the door and sprinting towards Makka’s cell. They must be extremely anxious.