Chasing the Prophecy Page 46

“Very well,” Farfalee agreed. “I hate to risk losing any of our number, but I fear risk will be an inevitable companion for the remainder of our journey.”

“I’ll join Jason and Farfalee in the second launch,” Heg said. “I’ll organize drinlings to fill the remaining needs of the two squads.”

The meeting ended and everyone dispersed. Jason wandered to the front of the ship to watch the island. The salty breeze came generally from the east, sometimes gusting from the southeast and occasionally blowing from the northeast. At times the Valiant turned into the wind at an angle, sails positioned to keep slicing forward. For some stretches the wind pushed the ship from behind at a good pace. The drinlings adjusted the sails often, and the sweeps sloshed endlessly.

The prospect of fighting the Maumet kept Jason patient as he watched Windbreak Island draw imperceptibly closer. He knew they needed to get there ahead of their enemies. But part of him was in no hurry. What if the creature decimated Aram, Jasher, and the rest of their squad? Jason frowned. What if it came out into the water and destroyed the people in his own launch boat as well? His frown deepened. What if the Maumet attacked the ship? Jason was not eager for answers to those questions.

All they really knew about the Maumet was that it could transform into different substances and that it had been feared by the most powerful people in Lyrian since the days of Eldrin. From the current distance Windbreak Island looked innocent, but Jason knew that it might end up as his cemetery.

Hour by hour the island came into sharper focus. Eventually shorebirds squawked above the ship, some with dark plumage and red feet, others white with gray tail feathers. By evening Jason could discern beaches, trees, and jagged hills. He could also see the enormous domes of a colossal building curving above the treetops on the eastern side of the island, near the crest of a long slope. Jasher confirmed that the gargantuan edifice was the Celestine Library. Supposedly, the location of Darian the Pyromancer awaited inside.

As the light failed, a larger Aram guided the ship in a wide circle around the island. Windbreak Island was several miles long and at least a few miles across, with steep cliffs on the northwestern side and several long sandbars to the southwest. Everyone aboard kept watch, but they found no hidden enemy ships. They anchored the Valiant off the eastern side of the island, near a pristine beach of white sand. The moon made the beach ghostly, and glowed off the five domes visible up the slope from the coast. The two largest domes overshadowed the other three. As Jason considered the library by moonlight, Farfalee came to his side.

“Quite a sight,” she said.

“Have you been there before?” Jason wondered.

“No. But I did work for years in the Great Document Hall at Elbureth. The Maumet has dwelled here since our race was young. The Abomination is very old.”

“Old enough to be getting weaker?”

“Wouldn’t that be fortunate? We will know much more tomorrow.”

“I looked for it all day,” Jason said. “I never saw anything.”

“We were all keeping watch. The creature has not shown itself. But I expect it is aware of us.”

“What kind of books are in the library?” Jason asked.

“Many have speculated,” Farfalee said. “Certainly the collection contains the majority of the oldest surviving writings in Lyrian. Many will be written in Sulcrix, a phonetic shorthand version of Edomic. Even the characters would be unrecognizable to most. Some of the texts will be in our current common tongue.”

“Can anyone read Sulcrix?”

She nodded. “I can. Drake can read a little Sulcrix. Jasher less. I am quite fluent in twelve languages, most of them scholarly, some of them dead. My most obvious role in this mission will be locating the information we seek here.”

“Looks like a big library,” Jason remarked.

“Vast,” she agreed. “Zokar wanted to seal off the information from his enemies without harming the texts, so he imprisoned the Maumet here. Presumably, he planned to move the Maumet elsewhere after his foes were vanquished.”

“But he lost, so the Maumet has guarded the place ever since.”

Farfalee turned to Jason. “You should rest. Tomorrow will be eventful.”

Jason nodded. “Guess I might as well try.”

* * *

By the time Drake jostled Jason awake, the launches had already been lowered into the water. Sunrise was perhaps an hour away. They wanted to reach the shore with light in the sky, but before the sunrise would shrink Aram.

The others were finishing a breakfast of unsweetened oatmeal. Jason accepted a bowl of lukewarm mush and began hurriedly eating.

“Quiet this morning,” Nia observed, staring at the island. “What if the Maumet doesn’t show itself?”

“I don’t want to stray far from the beach on this first foray,” Aram said, adjusting his leather cloak over his heavy shirt of overlapping rings. “If the Maumet means to lie in wait out of sight, we’ll have to devise a new strategy. We had best move out before the daylight renders me frail.”

Jason gulped down the last of his oatmeal before descending a rope ladder to one of the launches. Eight people fit comfortably in each. Farfalee, Drake, Nia, and Heg were all in his boat. Three other drinlings joined them, two of them at the oars.

Aram and Jasher were in the other launch, along with six drinlings, including Ux. Zoo was the only female going ashore.

The launches moved away from the Valiant toward the white sand beach. The swells were noticeable, rocking the launches gently, but could not have competed with ocean waves. The modest breakers seldom rose above eighteen inches as they curled against the shore. The drinling rowers maneuvered the launches with little difficulty.

The launches were roughly a hundred yards from the beach when a dark figure strode out onto the sand. In form it looked just like a lurker—a smooth humanoid shape without a face. But the similarity ended there. Although not clumsy, the figure did not move with the shadowy stealth of a torivor. It rocked slightly as it walked forward, kicking up sand with each stride. Composed of reddish-brown wood, the creature was much larger than any torivor Jason had seen.

“Is that the Maumet?” Nia asked. “It doesn’t look so tough.”

The wooden figure stopped at the center of the beach and held perfectly still, arms at its sides, facing the launches. It made no sound.

“Stay back,” Aram called from the other launch. “Watch closely.”

“It isn’t entering the water,” Drake murmured. “That’s a good sign.”

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