Simon looked at the scholars up and down the plank tables, many of whom were buried in books, focusing on the words while they ate. “Yes, and that changed everything. After guarding the hidden archive for millennia, the canyon dwellers suddenly had access to the vast treasure trove of information. But what were they to do about it? They were simple villagers with quiet untroubled ways. They had known little of the outside world for all this time. And even the memmers—they could recite the words they had memorized, but they didn’t necessarily understand what they were saying. Some tomes were in languages no one could understand.”
“We understood enough.” Victoria picked up the story with an edge in her voice. “But we did recognize we needed help. The canyon dwellers occasionally traded with the towns in the great valley, although we were considered primitive and strange. The wizard wars were long over, and as far as we could tell, the Old World was at peace.
“So, when the camouflage shroud came down, we decided to bring in experts from outside. The best and most studious scholars from the valley, those who showed an aptitude for the gift. We were cautious. We invited only the exceptional ones, and then we guided them here through the maze of canyons, up from the valley and into the plateau.”
“All told, this archive now supports a hundred dedicated scholars,” Simon interrupted her. “I was one of those who came here long afterward, a gifted scholar—gifted in both senses of the word—summoned when I was young and eager, so that I could devote my life to relearning all the lost knowledge. I was quite skilled at reading and interpreting, and I learned many languages. I was so talented, in fact, that I rose to prominence here.” His smile of wonder turned into a troubled frown. “I came twenty years ago, just after the Lifedrinker escaped.”
Victoria’s mood darkened, too. “For years now we have had no more new scholars. The towns in the valley are gone, swallowed by the growing Scar.” Her voice became bleak. “We are all that remains. The Lifedrinker’s devastation has not reached us yet, but it is only a matter of time, a few years at most.”
Simon nodded somberly. “Our main work in the archive is simply to understand what we have. So much knowledge, but in such disarray! Even after half a century, two-thirds of the books remain to be organized and cataloged.”
“All of my memmers recall separate pieces,” Victoria said. “We have tried to exchange information so that we can at least refer one another. It is a vast puzzle.”
Simon’s voice took on a sarcastic edge. “Yes, and what the memmers say they remember cannot always be verified with printed documentation.” He picked up a honeyed orange slice and sucked on it. “Thankfully, we can study all of the scrolls and tomes, and specialized memmers are no longer necessary. Entire teams of scholars have been reading tome after tome, studying and translating in order to relearn all that knowledge … and make use of it. We will become great wizards someday, but it takes time. We are all self-taught, and some of us have a greater gift than others. We are searching to find a spell powerful enough to fight the Lifedrinker.” He swallowed hard and looked away. “If we dared to do so.”
“Self-taught wizards?” Nicci was skeptical. “The Sisters of the Light spent years training gifted young men to use their Han, to understand their gift, and now you are attempting to train yourselves? Using old and possibly mistranslated books?”
Nathan’s brows drew together in a show of his own concern. “I’m afraid I also have to worry that the memmers must have garbled some lines, misremembered certain words from generation to generation. Such trivial errors might not amount to anything of significance in a legend or a story, but in a powerful spell the consequences could be dire.”
While Victoria took quick offense, and Simon mumbled excuses, Nicci suddenly recalled the damaged, half-melted tower in the Cliffwall alcove, and she drew her own conclusions. “You have already made mistakes, haven’t you? Dangerous ones.”
Simon and Victoria both looked embarrassed. The scholar-archivist admitted, “There was a certain … mishap. One of our ambitious students had an accident, an experiment went wrong, and the main library vault holding our prophecy books was forever damaged. We lost much.” He swallowed hard. “We don’t go there anymore. The walls are collapsed and hardened over.”
“The memmers still recall some of those volumes that were lost,” Victoria said. “We will do our best to reproduce them.”
Nathan exchanged an expression of concern with Nicci, then spoke to the scholars. “I suggest you exercise a great deal of caution. Some things are too dangerous to be dabbled with. Your one ‘accident’ destroyed a building or two. What if another error causes even greater harm?”
Simon looked away as he stood up from the table. “I’m afraid you are correct. Another one of our scholars already made such a grave mistake and turned himself into the Lifedrinker. Now the whole world may have to bear the consequences.”
CHAPTER 42
After the meal, Simon led the companions deeper into Cliffwall through the back of the stone-block buildings and into the warren of excavated tunnels that penetrated the vast plateau. The wide halls were lit with so many magically burning lamps that Nicci hoped this was the extent of their dabbling. Small light spells were one thing, but unleashing larger, uncontrolled magic was far more dangerous.
The main fortress buildings that filled the cave grotto were enormous, but the archive vaults were even more impressive. The spacious, vaulted chambers had walls lined with shelves crammed with books. In room after room, students sat in reading chairs or hunched over tables next to the bright glow of oil lamps. Bins filled with scrolls stood at the end of each long table. Ladders extended to the highest shelves to make hard-to-reach volumes more accessible. An intensity hung in the air, a hush as so many people devoted their full energies to relearning knowledge lost to history.
“Places like this were called central sites,” Nathan said, “large caches of books hidden under graveyards, in the catacombs beneath the Palace of the Prophets, or in ancient Caska.” He looked around, curious. “This appears to be more extensive than anything I have previously seen.”
“And you are only seeing the smallest fraction here,” Simon answered. “Remember, these archives have only been open for fifty years, and the wealth of information is daunting, tens of thousands of precious volumes.” He spread his hands. “Even after decades, we are still trying to catalog what knowledge we have. That is the first important step. We don’t even know what’s here.”