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Chapter 5: Past due

The night of blissful sleep I was hoping for did not come to pass, and for some reason I awoke feeling even more tired than when I had closed my eyes. Nothing a delicious breakfast couldn’t solve, I posited. After indulging at the Luna Market, much to Lyra’s chagrin, I was ready to face my penultimate trial: navigating the 31 Rings of the Grand Library to steal, err, borrow, the Scroll of Summoning needed to free Lyra from the sword.

Unlike the library on the lower level, this one suffered no fools. There was no talking one’s way into a cordoned-off section, no possibility of finding a secret nook to claim as a hideout, and they certainly weren’t going to let me waltz in and take what we needed. But while we had planned for many months on how to liberate the Scroll, somehow none of them included all of the librarians running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

“What in the world?” I said, as I walked through the massive front gate to find the entire place in chaos. Shelves were toppled, reading carts were on their sides, and books were torn apart like they were worthless scrap.

“This is horrible,” I whispered, as we passed three young apprentices in tears, trying to collect random pages that had been stuck to the walls with what I hoped was glue.

“As much as I agree with you,” said Lyra, “it is to our benefit, I think.”

“I guess,” I said. “After we are done with the quest, we should come back together and help them.”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Lyra. “But for now, we should make for the Mountain Pass without delay.”

The Pass, as its name suggested, led straight into the heart of the mountain, where the inner Ten Rings were located. The oldest books and scrolls were kept here, and kings, high wizards, and other dignitaries were usually the only ones permitted entry.

The rest of the rabble were kept away by two stone sentries, but these too were absent this morning, perhaps summoned to help with whatever had caused the calamity in the outer part of the library. But I couldn’t focus too much on my good fortune until we were safe and clear with the Scroll in hand.

I ran through the dizzying Rings, trying to take in the size of the collection of knowledge and magic held here. Whoever had built this section evidently had a sense of humor, as the simple concentric rings of the outer section had been replaced with a ridiculous maze of twists and turns and double-backs. But thankfully, it only took another ten minutes to reach the core, the fabled Last Ring. Its name was a bit of a misnomer, as it had no doubt been the ring built first by the greatest of the Scholar-Kings, Gaspard the Focused. And rather than an array of shelves and cases, it contained only one.

I stopped to catch my breath in front of the Ring, which extended up into the mountain, dreading the climb up the rickety ladder to the top where the Scroll was likely stored.

“Come on, hero,” said Lyra. “You thought this was going to be easy?”

“I didn’t,” I said. “But that was before we were able to basically walk in here unencumbered.”

“You’re a few steps away from being a legend in the making,” she said. “Let’s go!”

“Fine, fine,” I said. “But after this, I am taking a long nap.”

“It will be a well-deserved herosleep,” said Lyra.

Despite its outward appearance, the ladder proved incredibly sturdy and steady, and before I knew it, I had reached the “S” level, where my prize awaited. It was a small piece of parchment, rolled up three times, and it seemed hard to believe that inside was the final piece of the puzzle to free Lyra.

“Why is it called the Scroll of Summoning? Shouldn’t it be the Scroll of Unbinding or something like that?” I asked, as I unfurled it on a little shelf built into the bookcase. The runes were nothing like I recognized, but despite their intricacies, Lyra said they were merely the common script of her time, and that she would be able to help with the pronunciation no problem. Which was good, because I was in no mood for another book hunt.

“I’m not sure,” Lyra replied. “Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to ask my local wizard before I was accidentally trapped in the sword.”

“Point taken,” I said, rolling the scroll back up. I was about to descend down to the ground, when a small red book on the next shelf down caught my eye. Its spine said, in bright silver, “A Song of Swords: Mystical Swords Through the Ages.”

“Look at that!” I said, excitedly. “Finally a tome that might have some information on Hauteclere!”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I nearly tore the book in two when I pulled it free, but it had been so long since I had found any record of the sword. Despite its prominence in my village, no one outside of the valley had ever heard of Hauteclere, or the girl trapped inside. People were happy to listen to the tale wherever we went, but I suspected that most of the time they thought I was some crazy kid way too far from home.

There were chapters on various types of swords, and when I turned to the one called “Binding Swords,” sure enough, there was an entry about Hauteclere.

“Hauteclere, Demon Binder of the East,” I read out loud. “Forged by the Bondsmith Mattias, it is said that when wielded properly, it can bind a hundred demons to its core in a single swing. Only the Eight Elemental Crystals can free those trapped inside. But perhaps among its most remarkable properties is that it-”

The words trailed off sharply, the pigment faded after years of neglect on this shelf.

“That was kind of anticlimactic,” said Lyra. “We already knew all of that.”

“Yes,” I said, with a sigh.

“You sound disappointed,” she said.

“No, it’s just … the tales have been passed down for so many generations, I thought there was some dilution along the way. That the real story was even more fantastical.”

“Your village elders took their jobs very seriously,” said Lyra. “You should thank them when we return for their fastidiousness!”

“Stop teasing,” I said. “Still, there is the missing line. I wonder what it said.”

A loud bell rang out from up above somewhere as I set foot back down on the ground, and I worried that we were about to be found out.

“I think that our time in the Last Ring is about to come to an end,” said Lyra. “Are you ready to finally try a Bodyslide?”

“I guess now is as good a time as ever. But if I get sliced in half by the portal, you are going to feel really stupid.”

“Courage, Mati! Now and in all things.”

One of the fabled stone sentries finally appeared, and it screamed out in some indecipherable language, but it was too late.

“Bodyslide by one,” I said, tracing a portal with the sword. It shimmered differently than the Waystone’s portals, but the general principle was the same. I stepped through cleanly, and instead of appearing at a far-away spot, I landed with a thud back in the bed at the inn, the magic transporting me back to my previous resting spot.

“Well done!” exclaimed Lyra. “But don’t think of taking a nap now. We need to be off as soon as possible. No telling what kind of tracking magic we tripped by breaking into the Last Ring.”

“Give me a second,” I said. “I feel like my stomach is about to turn inside out.”

I sat up slowly from the bed, resisting the urge to vomit. My pulse was pounding, not just from the daring escape, but from the knowledge that my quest was actually about to be complete. And that I would be finally united with the real Lyra.

The sickness passed as quickly as it came, and I quickly gathered my belongings from the room, including the last Crystal, which I had stored in the lone dresser in the room, guarded by a ward.

“Dispel,” I said, swirling the tip of Hauteclere around the dresser, and the ward’s magic shimmered for a second before dissipating. I pulled open the top drawer and slowly picked up the linen-wrapped Crystal. It pulsed against my fingers, almost as if it was breathing, and although I didn’t mean to, my thumb accidentally brushed against an exposed facet.

The room receded out of view, as I felt myself plummet downward, into a shining light that looked like the mouth of a giant snake.

“Give yourself to me,” hissed a grisly voice. “Become more than you ever dreamed!”

“No!” I said, trying to kick against the void I was falling through. Miraculously, I began to rise, as if I was suspended in a liquid. I kicked again, and the light below dimmed, but the voice persisted.

“I see what you have done,” it said. “Your long journey to collect my brothers and sisters. It will all be for naught. We will not let you undo the binding. For that vile demoness cannot be allowed-”

I pushed through the surface of the void and found myself back in the room, the Crystal lying on its side on the floor.

“I told you not to touch it,” said Lyra. “The energies in the Crystals are incredibly unpredictable.”

“It spoke to me,” I said. “It want me to join with it, like the succubus. And then, it peered into my head, warning me not to unbind the sword’s core.”

“It does not want the succubus to be free again,” said Lyra. “I can feel her thrashing against me, even now. She drew in much power from the Crystal, it still reverberates through her essence.”

With even more care than before, I stowed the Crystal back into my pack, sheathed Hauteclere, and walked out of the inn.

“What if we let her out when I free you?” I asked, when we were safely out of the city. “She was so powerful, I don’t think I can defeat her again.”

“It won’t come to that,” said Lyra. “You will have a lot of time to practice the Summoning on your way down the Mountain. Everything will be OK.”

“I hope so,” I said, as I saw the top of the Waystone approach in the distance. We had stored each of the Crystals at different points along our journey, redundancies to avoid our prizes being wretched away before they could all be collected. A final circuit of the Continent would join them all together for the trek down into the Cave Beneath the Mountain, where the Summoning Circle awaited.

“Where to first?” I asked, drawing the blade.

“I think a clockwise loop will be the fastest, yes?” offered Lyra. “With luck, we will be back in Guardial in time for the closing of the Festival, where they will crown the queen of light and beauty.”

“You are hoping it will be you?” I said, with a chuckle.

“Hey, I am pretty sure I am still very beautiful!” said Lyra.

“I’m just kidding,” I said. The girl in the drawing’s face flashed in my mind as I opened the portal. She had seemed like a vision from a far-off world, when I first dreamed of her all those years ago. I had awoken in the middle of the night, just before I was about to grasp her hand. Taking pencil to paper, I furiously drew what I could remember, before dozing back to dreams, hoping to meet her again. But she never came back.

Stepping through the shimmering gateway, I smiled, hopeful that the real girl would soon be in my arms.