“It’s fantastic,” Mia told him, awe in her voice. She walked over to the planter boxes to more closely examine the various gourds. “Are all these gourds your own inventions?”
“Indeed they are.” Brother Cornelius followed her to the planters, where he pointed to a dark-purple gourd on a pale vine. “This one produces the most beautiful purple ink. You don’t even have to grind it. You just slice the top off and dip a quill in.”
Mia looked up into the sky and sucked in her breath. As Brother Cornelius had promised, the night lights shone through the open ceiling. She hadn’t seen them since she was on the ship, making her way to the Order. That felt like forever ago.
“So rain is captured by the planter boxes?” she asked.
“Yes, it works out quite well that way, unless there’s extreme wind of course.” He chuckled softly. “One cycle we had such a rainy season that I came to the base of my laboratory stairs and found water rolling down the steps. I was most distressed. I lost most of my planter contents to waterlog that cycle. Very sad indeed.” He lowered his body onto one of the stools in front of his project table and set his walking stick to the side. “Whenever I feel glum, my child, I come here to my sanctuary, and tending the vines and roots and gourds refreshes my heart and mind.”
“I’m so grateful that you felt you could share it with me,” she responded, settling herself on a stool across the table from him.
Before them lay a root that was in the process of being dissected. Pins held open the flexible inner parts of the plant’s structure. It was all she could do to keep her focus on Brother Cornelius and not touch and examine every little curiosity her eyes settled on.
“How do you keep the books from molding with so much open air?” she asked.
“Ah, I have dehumidifier gourds set on each shelf, as well as shutters if the weather gets particularly violent. I do so adore the elements, so I risk it, I suppose. None of these tomes are delicate archival books in any case. They’re all duplicates of common references that are kept in the Archives as well. I just like to have my favorite references on hand when I’m conducting experiments.”
Mia didn’t question Brother Cornelius as to why he needed hundreds if not thousands of references on hand. She imagined she’d be just the same in his situation, so she could hardly question his methods.
“Do you think my father is really dead?” she asked, her thoughts drawn back to her present situation.
“Who is to say, my child?” he said, resting his temple against a fist, his elbow propped on his project table. “SainClair isn’t usually one to present fabrications, but he’s been acting most peculiar since you arrived at our threshold. It’s most unlike him to lose his temper in such a public fashion.”
“He demanded my locket. Why do you think that is? I mean, what would make him think I had stolen it, apart from his general dislike of me?” Mia pulled the locket from inside her robes and handed the globe to Cornelius to examine.
He pushed his spectacles up on his nose and peered intently at the locket, turning it over in his fingers carefully. “This is a very ancient object,” he said, “and the clasp appears to be fused.”
“Yes, it came to me that way. Father said it was my mother’s. It’s been with me since I was a small child. I’ve never tried to force it open for fear of breaking it. I’ve always been a little curious about it, though, since I know so little about her.”
“That’s to be expected, I should think. Life is full of these little mysteries.” As he scrutinized the locket further, a small frown of concentration crossed his face. Eventually he pointed toward the scrollwork patterns crisscrossing their way across the outside of the small golden globe. “These markings here remind me of the illuminations on some of the ancient scripts we have. This locket could have been created before the Great Fall, or it could have been designed to mimic antiquities. It’s hard to say without a more detailed analysis of the symbology on the outside and without viewing the interior.”
Mia sighed. “I have a feeling this incident with Brother SainClair isn’t over.” She swallowed a growing lump in her throat. “I’m afraid the Dominus will tire of this feud, and I suspect I’ll be the one to bear the brunt of the blame.”
“Ah, well, as to that, there’s no saying really,” Brother Cornelius continued, hemming and hawing. Still, Mia saw worry in his eyes.
“I couldn’t bear it if Father were dead,” she said, choking up again. The brother’s kindness reminded her how tenuous her grasp on family was. “He’s all I have.”
“Now, now, child,” he consoled her, patting her hand with his. “You aren’t nearly as alone in this world as you believe you are.”
She buried her face in her hands, the wonders of the laboratory fading into the background as dark shadows of her fear crept forward to encompass her. “If Brother SainClair is right, I have no family now.”
Later
that night, as Mia lay in her bunk
, restless from the stress and the deep, throbbing ache that settled on her head like a vice squeezing at her temples, she thought about Brother Cornelius and Taryn and Cedar. Taryn had asked after her worriedly when she’d finally returned to the barracks. Her friend—for that is truly how she thought of Taryn—consoled her, assuring her Brother SainClair was an oafish brute and everyone in the dining hall had borne witness to his deplorable behavior. Cedar had approached Mia with alarm, having heard about the exchange. He had hovered over her, clearly afraid to touch her and skittish about appearing too concerned. It had made Mia anxious to look at him just then. The slap to her face had blossomed into a fine red welt, which she was certain she’d have to parade around the Order for a few days until it faded, a lovely remembrance of Brother SainClair’s hatred and disdain.
“I assure you I’m fine,” she had said to her friends, shooing them away. “What I need is a good night’s sleep.”
Once settled into her bed, despite a fresh cake at her feet and Compendium nestled warmly against her side, she sighed. A good night’s sleep wasn’t to be had. Thoughts boiled in her mind, a stew of unpleasant odors and flavors wafting into the air. Each pungent breath and burning sip reminded her of everything she’d lost since arriving there. She had gained some friends and a mentor and, most important, Compendium, but she had lost her home and possibly—no, likely—her father and even her beloved Hamish.
If that were the case, then what was she still doing here? She had made this vow for Father’s sake. She meant to honor it as long as it would benefit him. If he truly were dead, her vow no longer was of any consequence.
Her lips tightened as her thoughts turned to Brother SainClair. He would be glad to see her go, no doubt, but she didn’t think the others, particularly Dominus Nikola, would take kindly to her departure. Alas, she hadn’t the heart to confront him either. He was a kindly old man, if somewhat detached from his surroundings. She had little doubt Brother SainClair fed him a steady stream of lies about her.
It would be best to leave without a trace, with no way for them to track her, to disappear and start over in a new hammock somewhere. She made the decision then that she would leave. She would find the Shillelagh, and she would use it to leave this place, to confirm her father’s situation, and then disappear to where the Order couldn’t find her if what Brother SainClair had claimed was true. She didn’t yet know where she would go if that were the case, but with the Shillelagh and Compendium, she would be free like a breeze rustling through the canopy of the Crater Grove.
The throbbing in her head subsided, and she finally relaxed, her body growing leaden against the lumpy mattress. She tightened one hand around the locket still strung around her neck and the other around Compendium and fell into a fitful sleep.
19
Thaddeus
Lumin Cycle 10152
“Thaddeus
, you’re acting
like a madman,” Nikola told Brother SainClair. “The others are becoming concerned.” He and Cornelius sat at the hearth in his chambers while Thaddeus paced by the window, his eyes wild and bulging.
“I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter what that letter said. She’s a pretender!” He raked his hands roughly through his gray hair and continued to pace. “She could have forged it herself. On top of that, I think she’s a thief.”
Nikola exchanged a glance with Cornelius. The older cleric frowned as he scratched his whiskers. The unexpected appearance of Mia Jayne at the Compound had taken them all by surprise, but the more time that passed, the more Nikola saw that Thaddeus’s paranoia was affecting him.
“What makes you say that?” Nikola asked, avoiding the real question on his mind.
“She has this necklace. It looks so familiar. I know I’ve seen it before.” Thaddeus slammed his hands on the windowsill and drew a large breath into his lungs, like a bear preparing to roar.
“So you assaulted an acolyte because she was wearing a piece of jewelry you think looks familiar?”
Thaddeus’s eyes darkened, and he turned away from Nikola and Cornelius. “I know what it sounds like. I can hear myself saying the words too,” he said finally. “But you must understand how this is for me.”
“We do, my son,” said Cornelius, “but this situation requires the utmost patience. If you continue down this path with her, we’ll all suffer.”
Nikola shook his head at Cornelius, but Thaddeus was too distraught to notice.
“Thaddeus,” said Nikola, “we have to let this situation run its course naturally. Mia’s loyalties will make themselves known in due time. Interfering will only muddy the waters.”
Thaddeus turned and leaned against the windowsill, his arms crossed. “I understand,” he said, “but I can’t sit idly by as my family is mocked.”
Cornelius narrowed his eyes at Thaddeus, and his hands tightened the on the armrest of the chair. Nikola patted his friend on the arm.
“You must,” Nikola said to Thaddeus.
“
He
’s jeopardizing
all we are doing here,” said Cornelius in a rare show of anger and only after Thaddeus had left the room.
Nikola sighed, suddenly very tired. “He’s had a very hard time of it.”
“We all know that, but this is greater than just Thaddeus. Moritania says the device has been researching the Shillelagh. You know what that means for us.”
“I do,” said Nikola, and he did, but that was only part of the equation. “I understand the concerns on all sides, but in one hundred fifty cycles, we’ve made no direct progress toward restoring Lumin until now. And to think that book was on our shelves all this time.”
“Yes, no need to remind me,” said Cornelius dourly.
Nikola waved a hand flippantly. “I’m not blaming you, Cornelius, but you and I know she is no pretender.”
“Very true, but we still don’t know whether she’s trustworthy. She’s been researching travel by baccillum.”
“That is concerning indeed,” said Nikola, “but perhaps we can use this area of inquiry to solve more than one question.”
“What do you mean?”
“There is the question of loyalty but also the question of ingenuity.”
“Perhaps you should speak to her,” said Cornelius, concern lighting his soft eyes.
“This is a path she must walk herself,” said Nikola, his face grim.
20
The Plot
Lumin Cycle 10152
“Are
you unhinged?”
Cedar asked incredulously, leaning back in his chair at a table in the ancient texts room of the Archives. “I know your battle with SainClair has been taxing, but you can’t possibly be serious.” His alarm surprised Mia.
“I’m stone-cold serious,” she replied. “I mean to retrieve the Shillelagh.”
Taryn’s reaction was completely opposite Cedar’s. She manifested immediate excitement at the thought. This also surprised Mia, but she was glad for some positive reinforcement. “Oh, what an adventure! But how will you find it?” she said.
“I have the means,” Mia said carefully, unsure how much to reveal. She had begun to ask Compendium details about the Shillelagh, and Taryn was correct when she had speculated that it could be somewhere inside the Order. It was in fact hidden in the Order, and Compendium had a map to prove it. A map alone, however, wasn’t sufficient; Mia also needed a plan. The Catacombs, where the Shillelagh was hidden, was apparently where the Order housed many of its more keen secrets. Unlike the Crater Grove, it was actually well guarded.
“I’m confused,” said Cedar. “The last time we discussed this, we thought the Shillelagh probably was a myth, a legendary artifact, the existence of which we weren’t even certain. Now you say you know where it is.”
“I do,” Mia said simply.
“How?” asked Taryn.
Their curiosity aligned them against her. There was no way around it. She slipped Compendium out of her sash and handed it to Cedar. He looked the book over and opened it, reading aloud the false title with which Mia had become so familiar.
“Have you finally descended into madness?” he asked. “What does this book have to do with anything?”
Taryn peered over his shoulder. “I agree with Cedar. This book would certainly be useful for my historical research, but it has no bearing on the Shillelagh.”
“Compendium, reveal yourself,” Mia said on a hunch. Cedar almost dropped the book as the text of the pages changed. “Read aloud what it says,” she told him.
“Welcome, Mia Jayne,” Cedar read. “What can I assist you with today?”
“Compendium, please show me the map you created leading to the artifact Shillelagh,” Mia said.
Taryn’s eyes grew wide as the ink melded into the pages, replaced with schematic drawings, something as familiar to Mia as her own pulse.
“This is incredible,” Taryn breathed. “Incredible.” She touched the page, tracing it with her finger and lifting it up to look underneath.
“I assure you it is what it seems,” Mia said. “For some reason, it’s coded to me. If another person picks it up, it reverts to the book you first saw. Only upon direct command of my voice will it reveal itself.” Cedar gave Mia a skeptical look, clearly doubting she was somehow the book’s master. “Try to command it,” she said. “Ask it anything.”
“Compendium,” he began hesitantly, “what is today’s date?” He paused, and his brows furrowed and eyes squinted. “Access not granted,” he read. “What a priggish book!”
Mia laughed. “Compendium,” she said, “who am I?”
“Mia Jayne, authorized Alpha Level user.” Cedar looked up at her. “Alpha Level? That implies there are additional levels.” He ran his hand across his face, as if wiping away cobwebs.
“I don’t have total access to the information it contains,” Mia said. “I managed to activate it, but sometimes when I ask a question or request information, especially regarding the book’s origins, how it was made, or other information regarding activities before the Great Fall, it tells me I haven’t been authorized at a sufficient level.”
“So this is a real-live artifact?” Taryn asked, her excitement rising along with her voice. “I knew they existed. I just knew it!”
“How did you find it?” Cedar asked.
Mia pointed to the empty spot on the archival shelf where Compendium had resided for who knew how long. “It’s been under everyone’s noses the whole time. I’m still not sure how I activated it. I sneezed on it, and it activated.”
“You sneezed on it?” Cedar said thoughtfully.
“That’s pretty disgusting,” Taryn said, giving the book a dubious look.
“Yes, I was terrified at first that I’d ruined the pages or the ink, but the sneeze sunk right into the book, and all the text melted and changed, and then Compendium revealed itself.”
“It must have some sort of genetic activation.” Cedar examined the book from every angle, shuffling through the pages.
“I don’t see how I could have been in its genetic data stores,” Mia said, giving Cedar a skeptical look. “I have no family history to speak of.”
“That you
know
of,” Cedar corrected her. “You told me you never knew your mother or anything about her. Maybe what you don’t know about your family is what lets you use Compendium. Have you ever asked Compendium about your family?”
“I haven’t,” she admitted. “I’m afraid.”
“Well,” Cedar said, “the book only responds to you, so you’ll have to be the one to ask it.”
“That’s beside the point right now,” Mia said. “I want to focus on the Shillelagh. Compendium, show us where the Shillelagh is hidden and describe its security.” Right now what she needed was to escape this place. She needed to get away from SainClair and the other clerics who gave her cryptic advice rather than straight answers. She needed to flee the claustrophobic stone walls that threatened to crush her spirit. She also needed to confirm that Father was really gone for herself, that she was alone in the world. If there was any chance SainClair was lying, she needed to know. And if he wasn’t lying, there was no reason for her to be here any longer. She’d have plenty of time to consult Compendium about her family history once she was away from the Compound and could breathe again.
Cedar read the text from Compendium in a quiet, serious voice. “The device referred to as the Shillelagh, once commonly called a baccillum when produced in numbers, is hidden deep in the root system of the Order under the Crater Grove, inside the Catacombs. It is currently being used as a conduit shunt to channel energy from one of the central roots to the peripheral security system of the Order. This serves multiple functions, including alerting the Order if someone has taken the device. A broken connection will extinguish security lights throughout the Compound. The Catacombs has locked gateways and monitoring systems. The Catacombs additionally has a detail of clerics who patrol it at random intervals. The schedule is kept strictly confidential.” Cedar interrupted his recitation. “Mia, this doesn’t seem like a winning proposition for us.”
“It’ll be a challenge for certain,” she said. “I don’t expect you to risk yourselves or your stations here at the Order to help me, but I need your help to figure out a plan, even if I have to execute it myself. I can’t keep sitting here, not knowing if Father is alive.”
She looked at them carefully, her eyes moving from one to the other. Cedar’s gaze was locked on her face, his jaw tightened ever so imperceptibly. Mia knew she was causing him significant stress by even mentioning this scheme. He’d been more than willing to sneak into the Crater Grove with her and fraternize in the fresh air of the trees, but what she was discussing now was an entirely different proposition. It would require spying on and deceiving the clerics and also involve stealing from them. Mia had nothing to lose, however. She was already a prisoner there. She wasn’t allowed to leave; she knew her activities were monitored; and SainClair was making her life increasingly miserable. Even thinking of the Crater Grove didn’t calm her increasingly frayed nerves. Mia’s eyes pleaded with Cedar’s until he finally looked away, frowning. She knew how he felt about her, and the thought that she might be manipulating him through those feelings shamed her but not enough for her to stop.
Mia looked over to Taryn, whose face held a hint of excitement. She clearly was interested in the prospect. It was horrible of Mia to prey on Taryn’s love of the antiquities and historically themed adventure, but she did it anyway. It also helped Mia’s cause that Taryn had confided in her that her family had sent her to the Order from their nomadic camp. She hadn’t experienced the calling in the way Cedar had. Mia speculated that Taryn’s gypsy blood supported these daydreams of wanderlust to which she often succumbed. Whether she was dreaming of traveling physically with the Shillelagh or traveling through time with her books, she was always somewhere else.
“I, for one, am one hundred percent on board,” Taryn said with a smile. “This promises to be the greatest adventure yet. Please let me come with you!”
She grasped Mia’s hand and squeezed it, desperate to hold on to Mia as though she might walk through a wall and disappear right then, leaving Taryn behind. Mia looked at her friend with some worry in her eyes; Taryn still had a family, after all. Maybe the Order was the best place for her. Still, Mia selfishly smiled inwardly. It was comforting to know she might have a companion, someone willing to leave this place with her.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “’Tis a big commitment to abandon the Order like this. You’ve been here a lot longer than me.”
“And I fear I’ll be an acolyte forever,” Taryn said, giving Mia’s hand another squeeze. “I’ve been here even longer than Cedar, and he’s practically ready to become a full cleric. Perhaps my family was wrong to send me here.” Mia met her fervent gaze and knew Taryn already had made up her mind.
Cedar continued to hold Compendium in his hands. “I can’t condone this,” he said evenly, “but you know how I feel, and I’ll do what I can to help you.”
Mia and Taryn met regularly
in the ancient texts room during their free time. Mia pushed aside her guilt at betraying the trust Brother Cornelius had placed in her, focusing instead on the optimism and hope that she would soon be free. Her heart quickened every time she thought about Father and whether he lived or not. Either way, she would know soon. Dominus Nikola never had summoned her to his quarters to discuss the locket. The fear that Brother SainClair might win support for his theories, however, buoyed Mia’s desire to make haste.
Plotting a path down to the Catacombs beneath the Crater Grove was relatively simple. Compendium showed them the way. It was the other matters—namely getting through the locked entryways, passing the random patrols, and figuring out how to disable the security monitor—they focused on in these meetings. Even with Compendium, they still lacked crucial information.
“We need to find out the schedule for the guards the night that we decide to go through with it. That’ll probably be the last piece of information we gather,” Taryn said, tapping a quill against her cheek. She was transcribing their ideas onto parchments. She had an insatiable need to record everything, which made Mia nervous. She preferred to have no written record to haunt them.
“I agree. Our first order of business should be figuring out how to get through the locked doors,” Mia said. “Once we figure out how to disable them, we’ll be able to get into the Catacombs whenever we choose.”
“We’ll only have one shot at actually removing the Shillelagh from the Crater Grove root system and no direct access to it until the day of. How are we going to complete the circuit without the clerics noticing?” Taryn’s smooth, elfin face creased in consternation.
“Well,” Mia said, pacing the room pensively, “we’ll have to make the switch quickly and in the dead of night. That way, most of the clerics will be asleep if there’s a momentary flicker in the security lights.”
“How will we know what kind of conduit we need?” Taryn looked helplessly at her.
Mia smiled. “Leave that to me. The next Gathering is coming up, and we can use the opportunity to forage for a shunt that should work. We have all the specifications we may need through Compendium. The shunt will serve as a facsimile to fool the Catacombs into believing the Shillelagh is still there.”
“Capital!” Taryn exclaimed. “That’s a great idea. I don’t suppose foraging for shunts will arouse any suspicion?”
“Oh, not at all. If anyone asks, which I doubt is likely, I’ll just say Brother Cornelius is looking for some shunts of a particular size. He has so many inventions that no one is bound to bat an eyelash.”
“Do you think Compendium would have any advice on how to get through those doors?”
They sat and pored over the book, but a number of days passed before they had any type of breakthrough. It happened on a day when Cedar was with them. They were frustrated and crabby from lack of ideas.
He was sitting with his eyes closed, his fingertips at his temples, as he whispered something to himself. At first Mia thought he finally had dived off the cliff they all seemed to be teetering on, the kind brought about by thinking too closely on one topic for too long a period of time. Mia was about to suggest they all go scavenge in the dining hall to see what, if any, leftovers might be available, when he slammed a hand on the table and said loudly, “Auditory!”
“Auditory?” Mia asked.
“Indeed,” Cedar said, resolutely pushing back from the table and standing tall. He paced heavily back and forth, speaking quickly. “Compendium hasn’t been able to find any locks in the schematics, correct? We know Compendium itself is controlled through auditory commands. What if the entrance to the Catacombs is controlled by a similar system of auditory commands that open the doors and has been coded to only those clerics with access to the Catacombs? I’ve racked my brain, and I believe it’s the only potential explanation.”