The Cat Who Knew How to Cry

7. THE GREAT CURTAIN (part 4)

***

There was no sense searching in the Royal Library. Even if some of the documents that interested him had survived, they could only be found in the library of the Temple of Sleepers – the temple erected to the memory of the great feats of Alae of years past. Descriptions of the lives of ancient kings and queens, the holiest of priests and others were kept there, denizens of Rual who had distinguished themselves in the religious arena.

The young gatekeeper couldn't hide his shock: he had not expected the godless prince to suddenly come here, to a place so overflowing with holiness, it seemed that if you took too deep a breath, your cleansed soul would cast off your earthly body and fly to Briaellar. The gatekeeper fumbled about for a moment and opened the heavy, wrought iron door, forgetting to perform the customary civilities towards Anar. Entering the gallery, Anar heard his superior quietly reprimanding him for this unforgivable impudence: 'No matter what he's like, you have to remember to pay respect to his title.'

No sooner had Anar walked up to the door of the main book repository than the gold-wrought gate leaves swung silently open, revealing a darkened rectangular room. The great hall's walls were not visible behind the massive bookcases, honeycomb shelves for storing scrolls, and bright jade stands containing the most valuable tomes, bound in the skins of departed temple cats. A wide gallery climbed the walls, ascending in an angular spiral to the dizzying height of the flat stained-glass ceiling, where the founder of the Temple of Sleepers and some of his holy companions looked down at Anar sternly.

While Anar, who had never been here before, raised his head and took in the sight of the grandiose hall, a librarian appeared from behind the bookcases. He would have been indistinguishable from any other member of this profession were it not for his especially sleek mannerisms and quick movements, which betrayed a natural born warrior. Anar had no need for a mei pause to see that the old grey cat was extremely perceptive as well. And intelligent – too intelligent – which was probably the reason why he ended up here. Someone from his circle must've recognized him as formidable competition, and succeeded in entrapping the potential rival in the library forever. Anar heard it was possible to become a keeper in this way, but, fortunately, there were far fewer libraries in Rual than there were plotters wishing to recommend their acquaintances for the honorable post.

The lie came easy, as he explained that he was studying the Curtain as one of the world's most powerful spells. This afforded Anar the opportunity to dig through the archives of the Temple of Sleepers. He wandered somberly around these immense treasures and finally, having no idea where to start, asked for help from the keeper, who was following him around respectfully.

"Forgive me, prince, but very little information has survived. Next to nothing, if you don't mind my saying so," he answered, emphasizing the word "survived."

"But the Curtain was created not that long ago," Anar feigned surprise.

As he had suspected, any information that could possibly compromise Agir had been destroyed. And if that was true, there was certainly something to hide.

"And there are no other references of any sort? Maybe some prayers, texts or something like that? Gossip, even. It's not possible that absolutely nothing remains!"

"Oh dear," the librarian bowed his head. "The accounts you're looking for were destroyed by your most holy mother at the command of her father. As for rumors..." he lowered his voice. "They say the Liberator, may he always abide in Alasais' grace, foresaw that his daughter's children would be somewhat... different from ordinary Rual citizens, that their father would be a non-believer. In saving the Curtain, he saw a guarantee that despite these regrettable facts, Rual's future would be as superb and perfect as its past."