Lord of the Libraries Page 8

  The journal Juhg carried for his private thoughts was an old one. A number of images that he’d experimented with first before putting in a finished form were on the pages. Some of the images were from the last quest he’d gone on with the Grandmagister. Before Juhg’s frustration with the Library’s continued hiding had rankled him and he could no longer deal with it. Before the trap had been sprung at the Vault of All Known Knowledge and the Library had come tumbling down around their ears.

  Craugh had been with them on that trip as well. There were sketches of Craugh and the Grandmagister around the cook fire out in the wilderness of the Forest of Fangs and Shadows. Then again in the tavern of the Blistered Boots when they’d had to set a trap for the thieves who had taken the Tinker’s Egg, which could have destroyed the whole town of Hanged Elf’s Point if the Grandmagister and Craugh hadn’t intercepted it in time.

  Later images showed Craugh battling Dread Riders and Blazebulls and Grymmlings. Juhg had wanted to capture the sheer power and bravery of those moments for the book the Grandmagister had entreated him to write about the Library’s calamitous fall.

  The night gave way to the dawn. Pink clouds filled the eastern sky.

  Juhg studied the horizon for a moment, then captured the image on the journal page. The sketch felt right, cool and clean, and went down on the paper with no hesitation. He loved the feel of putting the lines together. It felt … right.

  He sipped soured pricklepear tea from the galley. Cook had made a lot of it, hoping to keep up the strength of the dwarven pirates. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten, but he didn’t have the interest for a meal.

  He flipped through the pages as the fog filled the morning, promising another dreary day. The only good thing was that they wouldn’t easily be seen by other ships, which would—doubtlessly—be enemies.

  Feeling the chill bite into him more now that he was still, Juhg reached into the storage compartment aboard the longboat and took out a blanket that was mostly dry. There were hardtack biscuits in there as well, but he knew he couldn’t stomach them. Those were meant to be softened with water or tea before they were eaten, and even then to be eaten only under the most dire circumstances.

  He pulled the blanket over himself and studied the pictures he’d drawn of Craugh. The influence he’d been under during the times those drawings had been made were palpable. No historian he’d ever read, no artist he’d ever studied, had been totally neutral about their subject. They’d either hated them or loved them. Even the ones who hadn’t cared about what they were doing had left telltale imprints on their work.

  So which is it? Juhg asked himself. Hero or villain?

  Friend or enemy?

  Somewhere in there, with the fog-shrouded sun on his face warming his skin, he fell asleep. And in his sleep, nightmares came for him out of the darkness.

  “Apprentice?”

  Covered in sweat from his exertions, Juhg looked up from the tangle of rigging and sails to see Craugh standing only a few feet behind him. Sudden fear filled Juhg. He hoped it didn’t show.

  “Feeling better?” Juhg asked because he didn’t know what else to say.

  Since coming aboard after the incident inside the monster, Craugh had retired to his cabin and slept almost forty-nine hours. Full night lay upon One-Eyed Peggie and the darkness had turned the fog a pale gray that bobbed and moved and looked like things were alive out in the distance. Hallekk had posted double guards and the rest of the crew worked on repairing the damage the monster had caused.

  “I am,” Craugh agreed. He looked a little better, but he still didn’t look well enough to be up and around. Evidently all the magic he’d used against the bearded hoar-worm had left him hollow of energy. His shoulders were still stooped from hard use. “You shouldn’t be out here working on this mess.”

  A few of the nearby pirates looked over at Craugh with some irritation.

  “Sorting the rigging and the canvas after a disaster like this is hard work.” Juhg kept his hands busy. They had most of the yards replaced and the canvas repaired. The rigging came next.

  “You already have a task.” Craugh shook his head. “I thought that was made plain enough to you.”

  “The books are nearly done.” Juhg shook loose another tangled knot and continued working the line of rigging he was sorting. He felt the resentment toward Craugh banging at his temples. He still didn’t know if he wanted to trust the man.

  “But your task—”

  Juhg hardened his voice, letting the pain of his confusion speak for him. “The work out here is more important now. We’re not going anywhere until Peggie is seaworthy again. Right now we’re just a plump goose sitting in the water.” As he knelt there, he felt his heart beating in his chest. He knew he should shut up and not goad the wizard, but he couldn’t help himself. Was he helping Craugh, whom the Grandmagister had entrusted his life to, only to be helping the very person who would turn around and betray him?

  Craugh put his hands behind his back, holding on to his staff as if he had to restrain himself. He took in a short breath and let it out. “This work is best left to those who are good at it.”

  “I am good at it.”

  A dark flush fired under Craugh’s pale cheeks. “By the Old Ones, you’re pigheaded.”

  “I prefer to think of it as being practical,” Juhg replied. “Valdos always maintained in his book, The Sharing of Work, that communities benefited from working together on common goals for the common good. Right now, stranded out here on the open sea in enemy territory, we are a community.”

  “I don’t need to be schooled, apprentice.” Craugh frowned.

  “And I don’t need to be told how to conduct my work or use my time.” Juhg’s fingers encountered a knot but simply weren’t knowledgeable enough to untie it. Frustration filled him and spilled over. He flung the knot from him and wrapped his arms around his upper body as he continued to sit hunkered down. He didn’t know how he was supposed to act or what he was supposed to do under the circumstances.

  Silence stretched for a moment as everyone in the immediate vicinity grew quiet. They’re all expecting me to be turned into a great big toad, Juhg thought.

  “You could use a break, apprentice,” Craugh said gently. “Walk with me.”

  “No.”

  Craugh sighed. “Don’t be churlish.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then what name would you give to your behavior?”

  Juhg refused to answer.

  “Have you eaten tonight?”

  After a brief hesitation, Juhg decided he was being too churlish to stand himself. He sighed. “No.”

  “I am hungry. I smelled chowder from the galley when I went in looking for you. Join me.” Craugh turned and walked away.

  Out of sheer stubbornness, Juhg held his ground and studied the twisted skeins of the rigging lying before him. It was just like the wizard to walk off imperiously and act like everyone else should fall in line with what he wanted.

  “Juhg,” Deldar said.

  Knowing he couldn’t be inhospitable to someone who didn’t have it coming—because he was for certain that much better than some wizards he could name—Juhg looked at the dwarven pirate working across from him.

  Deldar was one of the older hands aboard One-Eyed Peggie. He’d sailed with the Grandmagister on a number of occasions. He was a kind man, with a family back in Greydawn Moors. Thankfully, none of them had been killed, though he had a son who was injured and a brother who had been crippled.

  “Ye should go with ’im,” Deldar said quietly.

  “Why?”

  “Because he asked ye.”

  “He didn’t ask. He told me to report to dinner.”

  “He come as close to askin’ as I’ve ever seen with anyone outside of Wick.” Deldar shook his head. “Social amenities, they ain’t easy for such a one as Craugh. He’s always been apart from most folks.” He shrugged. “An’ with us chasin’ after the Gran’magister an’ can�
�t quite catch up to ’im, that’s got to be weighin’ heavy on his mind. Besides that, he saved all of us three days ago.”

  Juhg didn’t speak. They just didn’t know what the wizard was capable of. He still dreamed of Ladamae turning into salt before his very eyes. Sometimes it had been the Grandmagister who had turned to salt in front of Craugh, and the wizard had held The Book of Time just out of the Grandmagister’s reach and laughed and laughed. Juhg had come up screaming from those dreams and the crew had gentled him, thinking he was only remembering the monster’s attacks or that he was worried about the Grandmagister.

  “Look,” Deldar said, “I’ve sailed with ye on more’n one occasion. Been through some adventures with the Grandmagister meownself. This here? When all’s said an’ done, it’ll likely be another.”

  If you live through it, Juhg couldn’t help but think. If Craugh doesn’t betray us all.

  The crew had said their good-byes to the members they’d lost days ago in a short service that Hallekk had conducted, then they’d gotten on with the repairs to the ship. The ship’s cooper had already seen to squaring off the broken mast, both ends, and was hopeful that most of it could be saved. Getting it repaired and set back into place was going to be a hardship. For the night, they were continuing to pump out the cargo hold. In the morning they’d have to see to replacing the cracked planks that were leaking.

  “All I’m sayin’,” Deldar said gently, “is that I don’t think ye’re the onliest one what’s scared right now. Craugh, he can’t turn to none of us. Can’t talk to a one of us about them worries traveling through his head.”

  Realizing that the pirate was making perfect sense and that to turn Craugh’s invitation down would be suspicious not only to the wizard but the crew as well, Juhg nodded. “All right.” He didn’t want the crew asking him questions about Craugh that he wasn’t prepared to answer, and for the moment he wasn’t prepared to answer any.

  “An’ if things go badly,” Deldar said, holding up a length of rope, “these knots’ll be here a-waitin’ on ye.” He smiled, but the effort was worn and tired.

  “Thank you.” Juhg stood.

  Deldar nodded. “Weren’t nothin’. But ye could do me a favor. If ye still feel beholdin’ after ye sup with the wizard, maybe ye could see yer way clear to bringin’ me one of them biscuits. Cook outdid hisself tonight, he did.”

  Juhg trudged toward the galley, not knowing what to expect. For all he knew, Craugh had been surprised he hadn’t informed the crew and—wanting to make the most of his good fortune—had decided to shove Juhg over the side of the ship when no one was looking.

  4

  The Wizard’s Tale

  As it turned out, Craugh didn’t want to eat down in the galley. He wanted to eat outside on the ship’s deck, saying that two days of sleeping in the small cabin had made him feel too closed up for too long.

  That choice made Juhg immediately nervous. In the dark, shoving someone over the side would be even easier. A number of rigging lines fouled the deck, providing a ready-made excuse for an accident. It was also known that Juhg wasn’t sleeping well. His stomach puckered into a knot as he told the wizard eating out on the deck would be fine.

  Craugh dipped up two heaping bowls of chowder, filled two plates with biscuits, and poured two tall glasses of razalistynberry wine. Craugh had to ask for the wine, and it wasn’t a particularly good fit for the meal, but Juhg didn’t object.

  Cook thought about objecting. Juhg saw it in the man’s harsh eyes above the mask he wore to hide his lower face. But Cook hadn’t objected. Instead, he’d opened the wine and poured. Without a word of thanks, Craugh took the bottle.

  Then the wizard led the way back up onto the main deck and to the prow. On the way up the ladder, he asked, “What’s wrong with Cook’s face?”

  “Critter bit his nose off,” Juhg explained.

  “Why?”

  “Because he cut off Critter’s leg. That’s why Critter has a peg for a leg.”

  “This all has a starting point, I presume. Most things do.”

  When the pirate crew had told Juhg the story, they’d provided a number of colorful anecdotes. Juhg pared the story down to the bone. He didn’t feel like sharing anecdotes with Craugh.

  “They were down in the galley, Cook and Critter, playing cards for the last piece of firepear pie. One of them was cheating, though Hallekk tells me it was more than likely that both of them were cheating, and probably not very well. They do cheat. That’s why no one else aboardship will play with them.”

  “They disfigured each other over cheating at cards?”

  “No. They got tired of arguing over who was cheating, or who was cheating most, or however that went. So they started drinking.” Juhg couldn’t believe he was telling the story so nonchalantly when part of him was convinced the wizard was walking him to his doom.

  “Drinking?” Craugh asked, as though he were truly interested in the story.

  “Yes. After a while, when they were well into their cups, they started bickering over the cheating again. This time it came to violence. Cook cut off one of Critter’s legs, and Critter gave Cook a nose he can’t show in public.”

  Craugh snorted. “That’s asinine.”

  “Yes. But now they’re the best of friends. When they’re in port, they go off drinking together.”

  “Strange, isn’t it? How circumstances make traveling companions of people that shouldn’t be together?”

  “I’ve often thought so,” Juhg answered. And certainly never thought that more so than now.

  Two pirates watched over the prow. Craugh waved them away, promising that he and Juhg would keep watch while they ate. The dwarves departed, leaving their lantern at hand.

  “Sit,” Craugh said, waving to the deck as he bent and sat on the bare wood. Over the years, Juhg had noticed that Craugh was equally at home with the bare necessities as he was with a king’s court. The wizard started in on his meal without saying another word. He kept his staff nearby.

  Although he was filled to bursting with anger and questions, primarily why Craugh thought they should eat together, Juhg refrained from speaking as well. He’d learned patience and other survival skills while swinging a pickaxe in the goblinkin mines.

  He devoted himself to his meal, something that wasn’t a surprise since he was a dweller, but his motivation was incredibly different. As a slave, meals hadn’t always been on time, or even always there. For years, he’d passed out on a thin blanket on a cavern floor without being fed more times than he’d care to ever remember.

  At the moment Craugh wasn’t going anywhere. They were stuck in the ocean, far from any goodwill or friends.

  The chowder was thick and good. The warmth of it staved off the slight chill that had arrived with the night. The biscuits were light and fluffy. And the razalistynberry wine—

  “This wine is Wick’s favorite, you know,” Craugh said, holding up the glass in his hand. The moonslight, unhampered at the moment by the near perpetual fog, lent a glitter to the dark liquid.

  “I know,” Juhg said, and he felt the resentment take shape between them again. He had a secret the wizard had never told the Grandmagister, and he was expected not to tell it. In addition to the friction over what should be done with the Library—what survives of the Library, Juhg amended—he also had to deal with the wall keeping Craugh’s secret would compel.

  “Wick is still alive,” Craugh said. “I visited with Hallekk before I came to find you. He consulted the monster’s eye. Given their course and their present rate of speed, the goblinkin ships will be at Imarish tomorrow.”

  Juhg hadn’t known that for certain, but he believed that Craugh would have told him if the Grandmagister had been killed. The declaration reignited his anger, though, and he lost his appetite.

  “You’re not eating,” Craugh said.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Nonsense. Of course you are. You’ve been
working every waking hour on those books and this ship for days.”

  “Yes.”

  “And there have been other … distractions.”

  Learning that someone you thought was your friend could be an enemy is a distraction? Juhg sipped his breath. “Yes.”

  “You know that Wick and I did not foresee this eventuality,” Craugh said. “Him getting kidnapped at Greydawn Moors, I mean. We planned on him getting kidnapped, of course. Just not there. That had to happen at some point so we could get the information we needed from Aldhran Khempus. So when Aldhran Khempus showed up with the goblinkin after the trap in the Library was sprung, we took best advantage of it as we could.” He paused. “Not that we could have truly forestalled the kidnapping. Aldhran Khempus was going to have Wick one way or another.”

  “You should have told me.”

  Craugh mopped his bowl with the last biscuit and ate it. “We couldn’t tell you what we had planned.”

  For the first time, Juhg looked fully at Craugh. After the Grandmagister’s kidnapping at Greydawn Moors a month ago, Juhg had immediately asked how the Grandmagister had known an attempt would be made to take him. Craugh had brushed away the questions, telling him they needed to concentrate on what needed doing instead of what had already been done.

  “Why couldn’t you tell me?” Juhg asked.

  “You were leaving Greydawn Moors, apprentice. For the second time.” Craugh frowned. “Or don’t you remember it that way?”

  “Of course I remember it that way.” Juhg hadn’t been able to stay on the island. The Library and the outlying town had grown too small when he’d felt certain the books needed to be released out into the world again, and the Grandmagister would have none of that.

  That place had grown even smaller after the Library and most of the books had been destroyed because he had brought the trap there. The guilt had been overwhelming. Even though he knew the Grandmagister was busy with saving what he could of the books, and with all the internal problems of some of the dwellers revolting against responsibility they owed to the Grandmagister, Juhg had still felt that the Grandmagister pointedly stayed away from him. He had been more than ready to leave. In fact, he’d been aboardship when he’d found out about the Grandmagister’s Council meeting.