Chapter 20

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The Library had never been so busy, and Madam Tyne had never had her hands so full scowling at all the children running about, orphans and students alike. It was never impeccable, but now it was littered with makeshift beds and blankets. The woman’s usually neat hair appeared as if a windstorm had blown through it, and she ran through the aisles shooing children hither and thither.

Grim didn’t know what to do with himself as the hours passed. He thumbed through some books about the Southlands to distract himself. And as the days passed, people were taken one by one to the Infirmary. All had the brown splotches that his siblings had, except much larger and the children were collapsing at points with no warning. There was still no word of Sam and eventually Benny was taken which devastated his twin.

Grim found Quinn searching through books of antidotes and healing. “Looking for a cure?”

Quinn nodded and focused on his reading. Ninnipence and two others glided by them as they sat.

“We’re all going to die because of you filthy orphans,” she sneered.

Grim just ignored her, resisting the overwhelming urge to put out his foot and trip her. Instead he grabbed a dusty book from the pile, examining countless cures for things like bites, stings, and other minor ailments. A number of pages were ripped from the books, and although there was mention of some plagues and diseases, there was nothing about this one. He closed the book in front of him. So did Quinn.

They pored over seven more, all covering the same types of cures and elixirs. Still nothing. Grim gazed about the Library. Some of the nobles huddled together and murmured in whispered voices. At first, they snickered at the outfits and paltry belongings of the orphans, or argued over who wore the better suit and hat, but as the days passed they grew quiet. Everyone was afraid, but none of the students, who were actually trained to read and write, were searching through the books to find a cure.

Grim looked at the page in front of him. It was from an aged, worn book titled: Simple Solutions. There was no author listed, only the initials M.N. One line on the page jumped out at him:

The cause determines the cure.

That’s it!

Grim slammed the book closed and Quinn leapt from his seat.

“We’re looking at this from the wrong angle,” Grim said. “We should be looking at how to create a sickness instead. Once we know how it started, we can figure out how to cure it.”

Quinn rubbed his eyes and yawned. He’d been reading for hours on end. “Interesting idea. We’ll have to look for those.”

They inched through the shelves, searching. Books were not ordered like on Earth, so it took them some time to sort through the endless maze of shelves. Eventually they found a spiraled stairwell leading downwards. They took it and found a lower room with even more dust and fewer shelves. But these were filled.

They edged into the dim room, cautious of what might be awaiting them. It was dry like parched earth, and cold. It was as if they had stepped into a crypt. Grim’s skin turned to gooseflesh and he rubbed his arms. Quinn did the same.

“All right, let’s do this quickly,” said Grim. “I don’t want to be in here any longer than I have to.”

“Where do we start?”

“Let’s start here and work our way back,” he said and turned his attention to the rows of ancient books that lined the shelves. These had all been hand-written, unlike the printed books from the room above.

They scanned for anything to do with curses and hexes, and found too many to count. Everything in the room was centered on things dark. Finally, after searching through a number of titles, Grim came upon a book about half-way through the room that caught his attention. 

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