Page 24 of Killian
In front of them were two massive statues of yellowing sandstone holding up an archway. They were Egyptian in style, one of jackal-headed Anubis, the other the cat-headed goddess Moira couldn’t remember. And beyond the statues, stairs tumbled down various tiers to a lake where an entire village had been constructed to float or possibly stand on the surface of the water. The sound of falling water filled the air, and on the cliffside, Moira could see hundreds of little rivulets all wending their way down to the lake. There were many serpentine paths across the lake’s surface, and the structures had a multifaceted look that reminded Moira of origami. The roofs of the buildings appeared to be made of many-hued green tiles that layered over each other. On the far side of the lake, a dark wall of forest offset the bright green of the buildings and blue of the water so thatthey seemed even brighter.
Moira found herself squinting at the forest. There was something wrong with it. Certainly, there were swaying branches, but they rose up to the sky ceiling, and in the mists where it seemed like there ought to be thinning treetops were instead massive outgrowths.
“That’s not a forest,” said Moira. “That’s one tree.”
“Yes, of course!” said Cynog. “That’s the Central Branch.”
“Does every level have a Central Branch?” asked Killian.
“Yes, of course. It goes all the way down to the roots on level one. Someday, if I live long enough, I may see the birth of level nine and know that I have done my part in tending the library.”
“That is an admirable goal,” said Killian, and Moira felt grateful that he knew what to say because she was beyond speechless.
“Well, we try,” said Cynog. “Come along! I’m sure the Head Branch Librarian will want to talk to you. It’s the time of door growths, so we’ve all been warned to be on the lookout for visitors.”
He started down the stairs, and they followed.
“Door growths?” repeated Moira.
“When the library forms doors. It’s a natural outgrowth and good for the tree, but some librarians want them pruned as soon as possible.”
“I guess we were lucky to get in,” said Killian.
“Probably. I have no idea,” said Cynog. “I would have to consult a luck stone.”
“Sure,” said Moira, “a luck stone.” She glanced at Killian, who looked like he was trying not to laugh. The stairs took a switchback approach to the lake, and she could see that the levels of the cliff had been cut back for some sort of rice farming ponds, although she didn’t think the plants looked quite right.
“Papyrus plants,” said Cynog, noticing her interest. “Such auseful plant.”
“For making paper,” said Killian, “of course. I don’t know why I didn’t recognize it.”
“Paper, cloth, rope, so many useful things.”
They reached the lake level and discovered that the serpentine pathways were concrete boardwalks that allowed at least four people to walk abreast. They walked toward the front gate of the village, an arching, complex-looking thing. While Moira was contemplating the engineering behind such curves, she saw that a party was walking toward them briskly and that some of them were carrying spears.
“Cynog! Move away from the attackers!” called out the woman in front of the group. She wore a yellow dress with long medieval sleeves that seemed partially sculpted and partially draped.
“They aren’t attackers,” said Cynog looking concerned.
“Cynog!” the woman threw her eyes heavenward. “Come here!”
“Well, all right, but they haven’t attacked anyone.” Cynog went toward the woman, and Moira began to get nervous.
“You are under arrest for attacking the library,” called the woman. “You will surrender peacefully, or you will be arrested violently.”
“Uh,” said Moira, “we really aren’t attackers.”
The soldier elves were wearing armor, and they began to advance toward them.
“I mean, I’m about to be if you point that spear at me,” said Moira.
“There’s been a misunderstanding,” said Killian. “We have a message for the librarians.”
The soldiers all lowered the spears with a hard smack of wood handles into their palms. Instinctively Moira flexed her fingers, and claws came out. That was cool.
Killian put his hand on her shoulder. “We can talk our way outof this,” he murmured. “If we fight now, they’ll never trust us.”
That was a sensible, diplomatic approach, but the part of her that she now identified as the wolfy bit suggested that maybe she could break those spears in her teeth like toothpicks.
