Chapter 20: The Counsellor of Masters

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After Max retreated to his Collegium, I sat in an armchair and looked at the club room with new eyes. Afternoon sun filtered through the foliage of grand old trees and fell upon the room through the third-floor windows, so no oil-lamps were needed. I had lost my sense of time, but it seemed like a long while had passed since morning.

Marwan had said he'd go see a boy who had headache. He specially thanked me for the medical kit I had brought from the Nautilus. I had not given it to him, but I assumed it had been socialized at the same occasion when the rest of my backpack had disappeared. I thanked him and told the medical kit was probably best placed in his hands. He waved his hand to me, gave a conspiratorial greeting to Ricky and Mickey, and vanished through the backdoor.

I had a strange feeling there was something familiar about the room. I had not registered this feeling during the interrogation – the thespian show of the boys had held my attention captive – but now, in the silence, that familiarity crept out of the corners and shadows of the room. It was whispering to me, but I could not make out the words, or even the voice in which they were whispered.

I stood up from the chair and stretched my limbs. At once I noticed the custodian twins tense up in their chairs. They followed my moves with vigilance but made no gesture to prevent me. Did that mean I was free now?

I had remarked a long wooden chest by the side of the room, and I went to it, absorbed in my thoughts. On the chest, there was a pencil case – wooden again – and it contained various pens and brushes. I tried to remember what it brought to my mind, but my memory only responded with an empty echo. I opened the doors of the chest and discovered a row of notebooks – similar, ordinary, black-covered notebooks that we had in the Atlantis school.

Mickey and Ricky had now come behind me. They moved quietly like ninjas, but I felt their presence and heard the faint rustle of their cloaks.

"Do you mind if I have a look at these?" I asked, without looking at the brothers.

"Why do you want to look at them?" asked one twin.

"I don't know yet", I said.

"We don't mind, go ahead", said the other.

I opened one of the notebooks. There was text inside, written by an unsure, young hand:

I chose to leave the city grey
And live in living greens and browns
With Brotherhood I make my way
Under the blue, with blue surround.

To learn all life is red at heart
And hardened flesh holds sharper minds
Is treasure never found by those
Who live by crafts others devised.

I leafed through the notebook and saw it contained mainly poems, written in many different handwritings. Occasionally, I glanced at the twins to see whether I committed any offense by reading the poems, apparently written by some of the island's boys, perhaps in their first or second year. The custodians had appeared on my both sides and they, too, were reading what was in the notebook.

"You're interested in those?" asked Ricky.

"Of course", I said.

"It's just stuff some of us have written", Ricky remarked, dismissively. "Poems and stuff. Nothing special."

"Look at these", said Mickey and gave me another notebook.

I opened it and it contained drawings. Comic style, but otherwise very realistic depiction. I recognized the buildings as those of the Base. The boys were depicted in similar clothes I'd seen them wear so far. There were landscapes, too – from the island, evidently. The volcano was recognizable, as was the forest, and the glade where the Base was located. The wide open, grassy moors and the craggy coastal cliffs. Whoever had filled the pages with his drawings was unquestionably talented.

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