Andrea raised her head slowly, her whole body tensed and ready to run. From the long row of books, a tall man emerged. He was nearly buried under the books he carried, but when his gaze caught sight of the young girl crouching on the steps, the books fell clattering to the ground and loose pages fluttered through the air.
Andrea sprang to her feet, but the man made no move. As Andrea stared at him, she slowly realized he was more frightened than she was. His pale eyes set in a dark face were wide and startled. Upon further observation, Andrea realised that despite his shaven head, he was not as old as she had previously thought. The man suddenly seemed to come alive, shaking his head as if to clear it.
"Who are you?" he asked in a soft murmuring voice. "And why are you here?"
For a reason she could never understand, Andrea answered him with all honesty. "My name is Andrea and I'm looking for a book. Who are you?"
The young man gave a slight frown, before bending to retrieve his books. Andrea moved to help him.
"I am Tristan by birth but am known mostly as Trist. I am a scribe." Then noticing Andrea staring at his fine blue and white tunic, he added with a hint of a smile. "I am a palace scribe who is often sent here to copy out the ancient books that will then be kept at the palace library. Only the originals remain here."
Andrea smiled at him as they both straightened themselves.
"It must be a wonderful job," she commented, as she handed him the books she had collected. He nodded his thanks in a way that struck her as shy.
"In some ways, yes. But it can be tiring copying out word for word in small neat writing. And frustrating too at times, for one is not allowed to make mistakes. The copies must be as accurate as possible."
Andrea nodded. An idea had struck her, and she wasn't sure she wanted to dare risk it. But she realized she didn't have much of a choice. "Trist, could you help me?"
Trist looked at her uncertainly. "Depends on what you ask for. I could be punished just for talking to you if they find out you are here."
"Well, it's not for me. It's for a friend. You know there will be a battle between men and beast eventually, don't you?"
Trist frowned. "I have heard rumours of it."
Andrea nodded. "The soldiers have been hunting down and killing the wolves in the mountains because they are strange being who can change into human form. Well, the wolves will not stand back and see their kind be slaughtered. But don't you see? If they are desperate, the wolves will unite which is something they have never done before. And united together, the men will have no chance against them. It will be a massacre. A friend and I have come to a solution. We know someone who can stop the wolves from doing this. But this someone is cursed. Only if we can cure him, can we stop it."
"What about the king?" asked Trist doubtfully. "Do you really think he will just step back and let you do as you please? After all, it was he who started the war in the first place. His parents were barely even cold in their grave, when he announced war upon the mages."
Andrea thought for a moment, before replying. "Well, surely the king wouldn't want his people to be slaughtered. We will send him a message, telling him we will only stop the coming war, if he will stop too. If he refuses, the wolves will have no choice but to attack."
Trist was silent. Then as if coming to a decision, he straightened his shoulders and raised his head. "Row 5 on the left. Third shelf." He turned to go but Andrea called him back.
"Are there...are there any books on portals?"
Trist looked startled, but he answered her. "Row 17 on the left. Middle shelf. And Andrea?" She looked at him questioningly. "There is a small door at the back to the right. Leave that way if you don't want to be discovered."
Andrea smiled at him. "Thanks."
He nodded, his eyes holding a grave look. Then he disappeared behind a tall shelf and was gone.
Heading towards the fifth row, Andrea felt light at heart and comforted. Soon, very soon she would be home. Snatching up three random books on curses that sounded as if they might be of help, Andrea rushed eagerly toward the seventeenth row. Here she slowed and began searching carefully. There were only six books on portals, so small and thin, they could barely be called books. More like pamphlets, thought Andrea, skimming through their contents. She paused in horror as she heard a shout overhead. The soldiers had discovered the broken latch. Quickly shoving the book she held into her pouch, she fled to the back of the building. Behind her, she could hear the pounding of feet as the soldiers came tearing down the stairs. Racing quickly to the small door in the corner, she unbolted it and ducked through.
Just as she did so, she heard a shout and looked back over her shoulder. The two sentries were racing towards her. Andrea stepped out into the night and began running, the cloak she had "borrowed" from Dagen flapping wildly behind her. The guards followed close behind, yelling for her to halt. Knowing there would be trouble if she did as commanded, Andrea fastened her pace. Light on her feet and with a threat of death hanging over her head, Andrea managed to stay well in front of them. She tore down one street than another, trying to lose them.
As she passed an alleyway however, someone leapt out and grabbed her arm, before dragging her into the darkness. As Andrea whipped out her dagger ready to fight them, the figure smacked down against her wrist, sending the dagger clattering to the ground. Andrea looked up at them startled. It was Rodarn. He violently ripped the cloak over her head and passed it to someone who stood beside him. Andrea's stomach churned as she saw the grim-looking face of Dagen. He pulled the cloak around him, making sure his face was well hidden in the shadow of the hood, before turning to Rodarn.
"Get her back to the camp. I'll be back as soon as I lose them."
"What if you are caught?" asked Rodarn gruffly. Andrea was a little surprised to notice he looked a little like he cared if Dagen did.
Dagen shrugged. "I'll deal with it as it comes." He shoved Andrea towards Rodarn, who caught her by the arm in a strong grip. "Just hurry up. They'll be here any moment."
Rodarn took off down the alleyway, dragging Andrea after him. Dagen waited until they were out of sight then stepped out of the alley and right into the guards' path. They paused in surprise, before leaping at him with their spears. Dagen side-stepped them, turned and fled down the main street. After a few minutes, he ducked down a small street hoping to get them off his trail. But still they came on. One of them yelled out something to his companion in a tone that sounded triumphant.
Dagen glanced back at them, fastening his pace. Without warning, he collided straight into a solid object. He crashed backwards onto the ground, his head feeling like it had cracked open. His eyes streaming and his head feeling like it had just been split in two, Dagen tried to rise. The world seemed to sway around him and his legs collapsed beneath him. There was the sound of running feet, then someone was bending over him, their face blurry and distorted. They were saying something, but their voice came from miles away.
Everything went black.
When Dagen finally regained consciousness, he found himself stretched out on what felt like a table, his arms bound on either side of his head. He tried to lift his head to study his surroundings and immediately regretted it as his head began throbbing. Just then, there was the sound of footsteps and a door opening. A stocky bearded man came into view, followed by the younger of the sentries who had chased him.
"Yes, sir," the young sentry was saying. "Straight into the wall. Knocked himself right out, he did. Smashed his head against the wall. Could have killed himself, the physician says."
The bearded man leaned over Dagen and nodded. "He's awake. But he's in no shape to be questioned. Take him down to the lower cell and leave him for the night. The captain wants to see him first thing tomorrow morning. Don't forget that."
The sentry nodded, fiercely. "Yes, sir. I won't, sir. First thing tomorrow morning, sir." He paused, then taking a deep breath, added nervously, "I thought Captain said not to use that cell on young prisoners."
The older man glowered at him. "Do not question your orders, soldier. But for your information, the Imperial Library is off limits and all citizens are aware of that. It is obvious then, that he deliberately disobeyed. He must learn the consequences of doing that. Anyway, he's hardly to be called a child."
He turned and strode out. Dagen heard him call out an order to someone. Presently the door opened, and another soldier entered. Together the two soldiers undid Dagen's chains. Then the soldier grabbed one of Dagen's arms, while the young sentry grabbed his other and together, they pulled him off the table and towards the door. Dagen didn't bother protesting. He knew it wouldn't be worth it. Anyway, his head was pounding too much to struggle, and he could barely walk. The two soldiers had to bear his weight and were forced to half-carry, half-drag him to his cell. When Dagen saw it, his hearted stopped and his eyes widened. The cell was pitch black with no window.
"No, please." The words left his lips without him comprehending them.
The two soldiers glanced at one another than the young sentry shrugged.
"Sorry, kid. Captain's orders." They dragged him in and placed him on the bed. At the doorway, the younger one looked back. "Night, kid."
The door closed, leaving Dagen alone. He glanced around fearfully. There was nothing but complete darkness. The silence was so loud, that it was deafening, and the walls seemed to close in on him. Dagen's chest tightened and he felt suffocated. Already his mind was conjuring up frightful images of what the dark could hide. He hugged his knees tightly, bowing his head and burying his face in his arms. His entire body trembled. It would be a long night.
When the young soldier from the night before, opened the door to fetch the prisoner, the sight that met his eyes, pulled at his heart, and filled him with pity. The prisoner was curled up, back against the wall, shaking all over. Since it was a windowless room, the cell was dark despite the sun climbing up over the hills outside. The prisoner jerked up in fright at the sound of the cell door being pushed open and it was only then that the soldier saw the full extent of the boy's condition. The boy's face was ashen grey, sweat trickling down his brow and soaking his shirt. His eyes were wide and filled with an animal-like terror. The boy was nearly terrified out of his wits. The soldier sighed. It had been cruel of the jailer to do this to the kid. But it was not in his place to say anything.
"Come on, kid," he murmured gently, gesturing to him." The captain is waiting to see you. I'll warn you now that he may look a trifle intimidating but don't let that fool you. He's a fair man with a good heart. You needn't fear." He watched as the boy tried to rise unsteadily to his feet then moved forward to help him. The boy begrudgingly accepted his assistance and the soldier helped him walk down the hall and to a large office. At the office however, the boy shook away the soldier's helping hand and straightened himself. The soldier nodded approvingly and knocked.
"Enter," commanded a deep voice.
The soldier opened the door and gently shoved Dagen forward. Head held high and jaw set, Dagen entered.
Seated behind a large wooden desk, sat a familiar man with a dark beard and a scar that covered half his face. It was the captain who had overseen the capturing of Felan. The one Andrea had called Blade. The captain leaned back in his chair, regarding the young prisoner thoughtfully. The young guard saluted and made as if to leave. But Blade spoke, stopping him.
"You may stay, Erik," he commanded, his eyes never leaving Dagen's face.
The guard bowed, returning to stand just behind Dagen. Blade frowned, his finger tapping against the table, thoughtfully.
"What's your name, lad?" he finally asked after a long pause.
Dagen thought for a moment but saw no harm in telling the truth. It wasn't like the captain could trace him down. "Dagen...Dagen Mortenson."
"Mortenson?" The captain frowned thoughtfully. "I know no man by that name, which is strange considering I have acquainted myself with most of this city."
Dagen eyed him scornfully. "I am not of this city." When the captain raised an eyebrow, he continued. "I was born in a village to the west of here. It was just a small hunting village in a valley. Fur Town they called it, as deer and rabbits were plentiful and we sold some of the best furs in all of Erlenia."
Blade raised an eyebrow. "You obviously have not come from there for a long time. Didn't you know it was destroyed in a great fire over two years ago? The residents did not have the heart to rebuild it and most left to find new homes. Most live here in fact."
Dagen's heart beat rapidly. His hometown had been destroyed? A feeling of pleasure filled him at the thought. "Were there casualties?" he asked in a voice that he hoped sounded calm. His eyes must have betrayed him, for Blade's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You don't seem to be too disappointed? Surely you were not the one who set the fire?" When Dagen said nothing, he shrugged. "Keep it to yourself if you will. It isn't the information I am after. What I really want to know is why you stole those books and where have you hidden them?" Dagen said nothing. With a sigh, Blade rose to his feet and came around to stand before Dagen. "Why did you steal them and where are they?"
When Dagen continued to keep his silence, he lifted his arm and smote the boy across the face. Dagen stumbled back and was instantly caught by the young sentry who still stood behind him.
"I'll give you one more chance to answer me," warned Blade.
Dagen glared at him, determined to keep his mouth clamped shut.
Blade sighed. "Not long ago, I was ordered to capture a young wolf. Not a normal wolf, but the shape-shifting kind cursed to his wolf form. He escaped however, and we lost all track of him. But then the library is broken into and several books on curses are stolen. Can you explain that to me, Mortenson?"
Dagen's head snapped back as he was backhanded for a second time. Only the sentry's grip on his arm, kept him from falling.
"It was a favour for a friend," Dagen finally murmured, realising he had to say something sooner or later.
"Why a book on curses? They are a strange one to take."
"His wife suffers from a curse and I wished to help him heal her as he has done me many favours in the past."
Blade nodded thoughtfully, but Dagen wasn't convinced that the captain believed him. "But what about the other one?"
Dagen froze. Other? What other book would Andrea take? Weren't they all on curses? "I took the other to sell," he said, hoping it would be a reasonable answer.
"Who would buy a book on portals? Especially one that has no relevant information on where the location of one is."
Dagen mentally cursed at Andrea and tried to think of an explanation. No good ones came to mind, but he decided to say something anyway. "I was in a hurry to leave, so I simply grabbed a random book and left. I thought that all books in there would be of some value."
Blade crossed him arms and Dagen felt his heart sinking as he realised, Blade hadn't believed a single word. "That seems a little unlikely to me, considering they were in entirely different rows. And if you were truly in a hurry and not looking for a specific book, it would be unlikely you would take such a small one. You are not the thief, are you?"
Dagen didn't answer but Blade already knew the truth.
"You are covering for someone. Someone who knew specifically what book they wanted. You know, the wolf I spoke of earlier had a young girl for a friend. A gullible but determined girl. One who was not of here, I think. You were covering for her perhaps?"
Dagen hung his head and Blade nodded.
"So, I'm correct. But I don't think you knew what the girl was up to and if you did, I think you would have stopped her. Therefore, I will let you go. But as you did pretend to be her and try to confuse my soldiers, I will not let you go without any consequences. A good lashing would suffice, I think." He turned to the young sentry. "Tell the jailer to deal with him, but to not overdo it. Then release him."
The sentry saluted. "Yes sir."
He took Dagen firmly by the arm and led him out. As they passed through the door, Dagen looked over his shoulder back at the watching captain. And grown and experienced as he was, Blade could not help but shudder at the look of enraged hatred that burnt in the young prisoner's eyes.