27 An Unfinished Story
author's note: I've spent a lot of NaNoWriMo's on this project, so I present this chapter as a tribute to that great event. ;)
Zelgadis woke up slowly with his thoughts drifting. His mind felt like a knot of perception and information, hazy with all that he'd read and all that he'd studied with Xelloss, ideas and theories like a tangled forest seen through a mist.
Xelloss was lying next to him, apparently resting as he usually seemed to do whenever Zelgadis slept. Zelgadis only vaguely remembered being half-carried and tumbled into bed after his experiment the night before, with Xelloss cooing something at him all the while, amused and indulgent. Something about going out of his way to warp his own perceptions, if Zelgadis remembered correctly, or that might have been a muddled dream afterward.
The memory of their activity was pleasant enough, and it was one of the rare mornings when he didn't need to heal any reminders of their usual vigorous sessions. Not entirely satisfying, even so. For one thing, thinking back on it from the cool light of day, he was a little shocked at his own aggressiveness and hunger. There would be teasing to come about that, as sure as Xelloss was a Mazoku! More frustrating, though, was the fact that he did not achieve what he was hoping for, even if the attempt was quite worthwhile for other reasons. Any time he was able to surprise or confuse Xelloss, even for a moment, was a small triumph.
He sat up with a yawn, shaking off hazy thoughts and memories. Xelloss hopped out of bed and flicked the curtains aside, letting in a little more of the dim morning light.
"Hm, well, I suppose it's too late for our morning battle practice, isn't it," Xelloss said, sighing as if this was a great disappointment.
Zelgadis slipped past him and glanced out the window, startled to realize it was already nearly mid-morning. The night's sea-mist had not yet lifted from the village; in fact it seemed to be thickening into a fine rain.
"I thought of waking you earlier," Xelloss went on, coming up behind him to look at the window over his shoulder. "But it seems that you wore yourself out with your enthusiastic performance last night! I hope that doesn't mean you won't want to repeat the experiment in the future?"
Zelgadis turned from the window to find Xelloss very close, his cheerful, too-innocent smile somehow more suggestive than the expected leer. He felt his face grow warm, but it was no worse teasing than he'd expected.
"Oh, I do," he answered. He ducked his head, but peered up at Xelloss coyly through fluttering lashes. "Another time!"
"Ah, well, I suppose it's back to class for me and study for you, then!" Xelloss said cheerfully as he turned away, leaving Zelgadis standing alone at the window.
"Fine time for you to actually take a hint for once," Zelgadis muttered as he followed Xelloss out of the bedroom. It was just as well, he tried to tell himself, with only partial success.
"By the way," Xelloss announced as Zelgadis opened the small cupboard which served as their pantry.
"Since you insisted we avoid the dining hall for the last several days, I'm afraid we're out of eggs. And bread. And, hm, coffee as well..."
"What?"
He stared, dumbfounded, at the tin of hard-tack crackers and a wrinkled turnip that were the only things left in the cupboard.
His only options were to brave the dining hall, or hope Melly's chef or Dulcy could be found and cajoled into providing coffee and a bite to eat. Neither choice was an appealing prospect, nor even entirely safe without coffee first.
He decided to risk the dining hall and hope that most of the Loremasters had already finished breakfast and gone to Recitations or whatever else they did all day. Xelloss was wise enough to refrain from teasing him about any of it as they left the cottage.
As if to add insult to injury, they'd barely entered the Temple grounds when they saw Shuno wandering up the walkway. His latest magical invention looked something like an umbrella half turned inside-out, with numerous jewels and metal charms strung all around it, and a large crystal knob at the handle end. Whatever the instrument was intended to be, clearly it was not working as intended, neither as an umbrella nor as magical artifact. Shuno was very damp and equally unenlightened, his puzzled scowl darker than the lowering overcast sky. As far as Zelgadis could tell, not working as expected seemed to be the norm with Shuno's inventions.
"Too early or too late?" they heard him mutter, as if he was asking the device itself. "Or nothing at all? There should at least be a baseline measure..."
He gave the thing a firm shake, then turned as he heard them coming down the path.
"Ah. There you are. Well. Good. We have a lot of work to catch up," he said by way of greeting. He folded up the awkward magical instrument with a clang and clatter, tucked it under his arm, and started back down the walkway, clearly assuming his teacher would hurry along behind him.
Xelloss hesitated as Zelgadis turned away to cross the hillside to the dining hall.
"I'll be along shortly, Shuno-kun," Xelloss said, as Zelgadis turned away to cross the hillside to the dining hall. "We're just on our way to breakfast, you see..."
Shuno turned and glared at him as if he'd gone berserk. Xelloss broke off and winced, and Zelgadis almost had to laugh. He turned it into a cough and shook his head, then waved them off.
"Go on ahead, Xelloss-sensei! You've already had breakfast, haven't you? I'll see you later at the library."
Xelloss appeared quite uncertain about this arrangement, but Shuno was waving him along with the pointy umbrella thing, and it was clear that he wouldn't let his language teacher get away for another day, not even another hour. He muttered something about some upcoming event or recitation that was going to interfere, making today's lesson time most essential.
With a shrug of apology to Zelgadis that looked quite genuine, Xelloss gave in and followed Shuno down the hill. Shaking his head, Zelgadis began to wind his way across the tangle of paths to the hall.
He braced himself when he saw someone coming towards him in temple robes, hooded and cloaked against the misty rain, then breathed a sigh of relief a moment later as Kemara drew the hood back from her face. She smiled and waved as he approached.
"Good morning, Zelgadis-san," she said. "I trust your studies are going well?"
There was a gleam of humor in her eye. He had to remind himself that she couldn't possibly know what he'd "studied" so intently the night before, and managed to mumble something polite about the Mala's library instead.
"Melianthus-sama has been most accommodating," he added.
She raised an eyebrow. "Has he indeed?" she said, looking amused.
"Well, yes... most of the time," he admitted finally, "That is, when he isn't a distraction!"
She laughed.
"Yes, Melly-sama does keep himself busy!" she said. "I heard he's also introduced you to some of our village entertainments, as well! I'm sorry I missed your performance at Melly's sing-along contest a few days ago, down at the Blue Eagle Inn?"
He blushed even more hotly at the reminder of that event. He was not quite sure how he'd been convinced to actually stand up and sing to the crowd at the tavern, although it probably had something to do with all the wine he'd drunk in an effort to drown out Melly's performance. He was sure it was Xelloss who'd shoved the guitar into his hand. At least his time spent singing had helped to reduce the amount of time Melly spent torturing everyone with his own ruinous renditions of several formerly popular songs. He'd rather hoped that the patrons had already drunk too much to remember much of it, but apparently that had not been the case.
That brought to mind the experiment he'd conducted the morning after, one that had been more successful and every bit as intense as his exploration last night. He'd taken advantage of a morning without Melly, Shuno, or anyone else at the library by seducing Xelloss among the books, with the excuse of trying out a new spell that shielded the room from being found by any outsider - and from any activity within it being heard.
"Er. Yes, that ...and a few other projects," he mumbled. He hoped his face was not as highly colored as it felt. "As you say, Melly does like to keep busy."
Kemara laughed again.
"Our Mala means no harm," she said cheerfully. "It's kind of you and Xelloss-sama to indulge him in his little projects! I hope he does not detract too much from your studies."
"But, speaking of distractions," he said, awkwardly trying to turn the conversation to other matters, "I'm concerned about this event that's coming up, this Festival of All Worlds, or Hallows Night, whatever it is... it seems that it will require, well, a great deal of time and ..."
He started out hopefully, but gave up when he saw how her smile widened.
"I'm afraid it can't be helped, Zelgadis-san!" she said, with about as much sympathy as he'd expect from a mazoku about to cast a full-out attack spell. "The Festival of All Worlds is more than just a tradition here. It's an essential aspect of life in Wyndcliff, our annual homage to the Lord Of All Worlds, when all other work and study takes a holiday. The preparations do keep us all very busy for a few days beforehand. They may well cut into your study time, as they do for all our students and Loremasters.
"In fact," she continued, gesturing in the direction of the hillside beyond the cottages, "I'm on my way now to make arrangements with the Badger-folk who live up the hill. They do a lot of the building of booths and pavilions, you see, but they are not the best at coordinating their efforts with other folks. It always requires a bit of, well, diplomacy, shall we say, from the house of the High Priestess to get them started."
"But what, exactly, are all these preparations for?" he asked. "There seems to be more than a typical night of costumes and pranks?"
"Oh, you haven't heard already? My, my, you and Xelloss-sama have been dedicated students," she said, laughing a little. He ignored that gleam in her eye again. "The Festival is the talk of the village at this time of year. We have a whole day and night of celebration, and entertainments of many kinds. I'm sure you'll find something to enjoy, Zelgadis-san! There are many tales told and songs sung, old and new, the strange and the familiar, the profound and the absurd, and who can say which has the greater wisdom hidden in its words? You may well find some of the Beast Tribe tales and other stories of particular interest. Many of our traditional Festival tales are not Recited at any other time, and some are presented in a form that is recorded nowhere else."
That did sound intriguing, Zelgadis had to admit.
"But there's more to it than a lot of storytelling, I suppose? Judging by all the preparations I've seen around the village, there must be."
"Oh yes, of course! Much feasting goes on day and night, and there are games and challenges, and the various tribes display the best of all their craftsmanship. And of course, there's the costume ball. We're only a small village and an isolated temple in the hills, but we make the most of this occasion. I can tell you, we rival any of the grander festivities in any town or kingdom!"
"Yes, I can well believe it. I would expect no less from the Temple of the Golden Lord," he added diplomatically. "But, about the costume ball, in particular," he said, reluctantly coming to the point. "It's not really required to participate, is it?"
Her grin only broadened, and his heart sank a little more.
"Why, you'd be far more out of place around here without a costume on Festival day, Zelgadis-san! And, before you ask," she said, taking on an official tone, "The High Priestesses do not grant any immunity for Temple residents or honored visitors from participation in Festival activities, except in the most grave of circumstances. Plover-sama, for example, is indeed to be excused..."
Her enthusiasm dissolved, and her voice fell into a sigh. She glanced across the hillside to where the turret at the top of her house could just be seen above the evergreen fence.
"Assuming he doesn't recover in time to participate," she went on. "I still hold out some hope that he might," she added with an attempt at a smile, but her voice betrayed her.
Zelgadis sighed as well, but he dropped the subject of the dreaded Festival, for now.
"Professor Plover's condition is another thing I wanted to ask you about. Has he even recovered consciousness?"
Kemara shook her head. She twisted her hands together, her glance distracted as she answered.
"He's made small progress. He's not rigid with terror all the time now, and he can at least eat and sleep at times. But he's unable to speak. He hasn't come back to himself at all, really. We're sure that he will, in time, but he's still on a long, dark road. Unfortunately, even our healing can do little to cure the ills of the mind and soul."
Her gaze drifted away from her house in the distance to the dark bulk of the ruins on the point, a shadow barely seen through the heavy mist.
"We've set a watch on the area around the Bridge. So far, there have been no more incidents. In fact, less than usual, perhaps because the watchers keep the daredevils and tavern patrons from going that way after dark. Except for one," she added softly.
Zelgadis nodded but said nothing to that. He'd guessed Myona still found his way out to the ruins, though they had not caught him at it in recent days.
"Is there anything else we can do to help? I doubt my own healing spells would be as effective as your own, and I'm afraid we haven't been able to find out anything of use to you so far."
Her smile was genuine this time, if still sad around the edges.
"You have already been more helpful than you know. I want to thank you and Xelloss-sama for keeping Myona busy, and for keeping him away from the Point. At least, for the most part. In spite of the watch on the Bridge, I know he still sneaks out there at times." She sighed. "At least now he doesn't make the long and daily visits he had been making before you arrived."
"We're glad to have his company," Zelgadis said, truthfully. "He seems to enjoy the Mala's library."
"Very much! He's told us some of the wonderful stories he's discovered there. He may not realize it, but his time there is filling up many of the gaps in his clerical training. He loves to tell tales, but he is not always the best at listening to them told. Grandmother was the only one who could hold his attention for long. Being able to read to his content in the Mala's library is an unexpected bonus. Though you must not tell Spearos-sama that I said so!"
"I certainly won't," Zelgadis said. He did not care to admit that he was unlikely to have the chance to tell Spearos anything. He had a feeling she'd find his awkward encounters with the Head Archivist almost as amusing as Xelloss did.
She wished him well and went on her way to visit the badger folk. Zelgadis managed to make his way to the kitchens and get his breakfast without being spotted by any other Loremasters.
A few minutes later, fortified with coffee and hooded against the soaking rain, he thought his luck might have run out when he heard voices through the trees. The morning was wearing on; anxious to get back to the Mala's library before he lost any more of the day, he'd taken what he hoped was a shortcut through a steep and wooded section of the temple hillside. As his luck would have it, that had led him right to Spearos, and though he couldn't hear the words, it was clear that the hawk man was even more disgruntled than usual. Zelgadis was just glad it wasn't aimed at him this time - so far.
He edged along, hoping Spearos was too busy lecturing some other hapless student to notice him. As he got closer, though, he was relieved to find that the voices were coming from the open window of a small building that was perched like a nest among the trees at the edge of a drop-off, where the path took an arched bridge across a small gully.
Relieved, he hurried along his way, but just before he stepped onto the bridge, the hawk man's heated words caught his attention.
"In fact," Spearos squawked, "you, sir, would be the last person I would agree to set loose in the temple vault! Or among any objects of value, for that matter, for fear some of them might just happen to go... missing."
The final word was an accusing hiss, but Zelgadis felt a shiver of excitement. Could this vault be the hidden temple library that Myona had mentioned? He moved closer to the window.
Whatever the object of the argument might be, this building was only an office, or perhaps a small classroom, which held little more than a desk and a few chairs. The wall he could see was lined with shelves, but these held only statues and other artifacts, not a single book.
This was not surprising considering that it was occupied by Spearos, who stood behind the desk, fist clenched, as ruffled and indignant as Zelgadis had ever seen him. The object of his ire could not be seen, and Zelgadis didn't dare move closer for fear of catching the hawk man's attention.
"Oh, I do hope that you are not implying that I would steal from the Temple of the Golden Lord,"
answered a much softer voice from within the room, low and unnaturally calm, almost more threat than reason.
With growing interest, Zelgadis recognized the second voice as Kervan's. Clearly he was not there to listen to a Recitation from the Head Archivist.
Spearos laughed.
"Oh, no, of course not," he said. "I did say 'missing.' 'Steal' is your word, not mine. Perhaps you would consider 'Borrowed indefinitely' to be a more accurate term? But I suppose one would say it's not stealing if one has been given the keys to the vault, wouldn't one? Which is precisely why you will not be getting any such key from me!" he finished with a snap of his beak.
It would never have occurred to Zelgadis to ask the book-hating Archivist about the temple library. Spearos was exactly as unimpressed with this as would be expected, but apparently he literally held the keys to this secret vault.
"You... You insufferable old bird," Kervan snarled.
Zelgadis winced. If flattery was the path to Spearos' good graces, Kervan had just knocked himself to the far end of the world. Perhaps he realized it himself, as his tone when he continued was more conciliatory.
"Come, now," he said softly. "Kemara-sama has already given her permission. In fact, she personally gave me a tour of the place several months ago! Surely that counts for something?"
"It was not my decision to reveal to you the existence and location of our library - the supposedly secret location - and I regret that the Acting High Priestess did so," Spearos snapped back. "That is exactly why I insisted that the binding spell be reset. The final decision is mine, in any case, even above that of the High Priestess herself, as I'm sure Kemara-san told you. Neither you nor your ferrety friend will receive any further access to the Temple's books while I have charge of their security. Rest assured of that!"
He said the word "books" as if it was a vulgar term best not spoken aloud. Zelgadis rolled his eyes at the hawk man's stubborn anti-literacy. Kervan laughed, short and sharp with little humor.
"If books are so worthless to you, why keep them locked up in the first place?"
"Although I find them of little value in themselves," Spearos answered airily, "they are the property of the Temple, and therefore it is my duty to protect them from plunder by ignorant and greedy fools. Furthermore, the misinformation within such artifacts may well be dangerous in ignorant hands!"
There was a pause. Zelgadis imagined he could hear Kervan's teeth grinding.
"It seems to me that choosing to ignore information when it's available is the very definition of ignorance," Kervan said, his voice as pointed as an unsheathed claw.
Spearos did not sound the least bit intimidated.
"If that is your opinion, sir, there is no reason to continue this unpleasant interview. You may leave."
"Oh, it is my opinion indeed," Kervan growled, but the stomp of footsteps a moment later made it clear that he'd already reached the same conclusion.
Zelgadis ducked back around the corner of the building, hiding under a dripping eave just a moment before Kervan slammed his way out of the hawk-man's office. After a moment's fuming hesitation on the doorstep, he stalked away across the bridge, fists clenched at his sides.
Zelgadis hesitated there a moment longer. The revelation that this secret temple library actually existed rang in his mind. Clearly, it was not the best time even to ask Spearos about Beast Tribe legends, to say nothing of asking for the location and a spare spell-key to a secret Temple library.
At least now he knew it truly existed, beyond Myona's imagination. Could he somehow flatter Spearos into at least revealing what material it contained? After all, Myona had mentioned it, knowing what Zelgadis' true interest was. And yet, the boy clearly found much more to interest himself - and to bring to Zelgadis - in the Mala's library.
The archivist made the decision of the moment for him by strutting out of his office a few seconds later. He slammed the door and he marched up the hillside, huffing and muttering, with his curved beak clacking and his feathers thoroughly ruffled.
Zelgadis sighed, shoulders drooping. Now that the coast was clear, he considered searching the office for any clues to the hidden library's location, but a good look through the window convinced him it was pointless. Spearos had not even bothered to lock or enchant the door.
A few minutes later, Xelloss looked up curiously from the scroll he and Shuno were hunched over when Zelgadis entered the Mala's library.
"I was beginning to wonder if you lost your way, or found some more interesting avenue of study," Xelloss said.
Zelgadis shrugged as he settled into his usual place at the opposite table.
"I, er, met Kemara at the dining hall," he admitted.
He briefly relayed what Kemara had said about Plover's condition, and some of her information about the upcoming Festival. He left out most of her enthusiastic description of the costume ball and the impossibility of avoiding it. The less Xelloss knew about that, the better.
He decided not to mention the argument he'd overheard.
"And anyway, there's plenty for me to study in the Mala's library," he declared to himself as he pulled a book off the stack at his side of the table.
Xelloss gave him one last curious look, but asked no further questions.
In spite of his declaration, Zelgadis could not help wondering about the mysterious vault from time to time over the next few days. He'd already pondered and rejected the idea of trying to break in with some barrier-breaking magic and his skill at picking locks. That could well cause far more trouble for him and Xelloss than it might be worth.
Besides, he still didn't even know the vault's location. Asking Kemara about it would mean explaining how he knew of it, which would either implicate Myona or require him to confess to eavesdropping on an awkward conversation. He decided against putting Myona on the spot for revealing what was obviously meant to be a closely guarded secret.
He began to plan how he might approach Spearos-sama in a way that would allow him to ask about it, as flatteringly as possible. His next encounter with the Head Archivist put that hope out if his mind completely.
A few days later they were forced to make another foray to the dining hall to stock up on food. Zelgadis had tried to make use of the village grocer and the inn near the docks, but they had found those even more difficult to sneak in and out of without some awkward encounter. They'd had better success at snatching a few days' worth of meals from the kitchen door of the Hall. Ed, the Head Chef, seemed to take delight in keeping them well supplied with the best the Hall had to offer.
Unfortunately, Erta-sama had finally caught on to this strategy. It could hardly be coincidence that she and two others of the more curious and persistent Loremasters just happened to be standing around so casually outside the kitchen, near the dish-washing sinks and the trash bins.
"Just taking the air before dinner," so Erta exclaimed when she saw them approaching.
Zelgadis supposed it was too late to pretend they weren't going that way, at least not without simply turning tail and running away.
"If they even mention the Princess of Fate," he growled quietly, "I hope you've got that exploding garbage spell ready!"
Xelloss didn't answer; he merely ducked his head and smiled. Zelgadis wasn't sure that was a good sign for the loremasters. He'd been on such good behavior lately that exploding garbage might be the least exciting thing he'd try.
Erta did not bring up the Princess recitations, as it happened. She had something else on her mind.
"Oh Xelloss-san, Zelgadis-san," she gushed, "We've missed you at dinner lately, it's so good to see you again! and I've been meaning to ask, we're all dying to know..."
She reached for them as if she meant to lock their arms in hers before they could get away.
"What are you wear-"
BAM! The loud bang and flash from somewhere overhead cut off the rest of her question. The Loremasters jumped and looked around in alarm. So did Zelgadis, but all he saw was the innocent look of surprise on Xelloss' face.
It was a nice try, but not enough to dissuade Erta, especially when nothing else interesting happened. No rain of fish heads and cabbage cores followed the startling noise. She quickly shrugged it off with a giggle and came at them again, clearly ready to return to the question of the day.
Zelgadis was seriously considering Fireballing a Loremaster, temple rules and Xelloss' mazoku manners be damned, when Xelloss slipped in between him and Erta and leaned toward her, forefinger raised.
"Erta-sama," he cooed, "That is a secret!"
"Oooh?" she leaned back, startled again for a second, but then Xelloss winced as she clasped his hands in hers. "Are you sure? Just a little hint? We would so love to coordinate for a group costume, wouldn't that be just the... "
Once again she was interrupted, which might well have saved her from some permanent injury. A grunt of displeasure and a sharp tsk tsk of dismay made them all turn to see Spearos following his assistant Druvilla across the porch. Even irrepressible Erta stuttered to silence when faced with the hawk-man's scowl.
Druvilla apparently had developed an immunity to it.
"Oh, no no no! Don't spoil the surprise, Erta-san!" she chided cheerily. "Anyone is free to reveal their plan ahead of time, of course, but it's so much fun to keep everyone guessing, isn't it? Why, you'd never guess what we're going to be, but I'm sure everyone will love our costumes, won't they Spearos-sama?"
Far from agreeing, the hawk man looked like he was about to become a Fireball. Even Erta took a step back and giggled nervously.
Druvilla seemed entirely oblivious to the hawk man's fury, beaming at them all with the pure glee of having a wonderful secret she was not going to tell. Spearos gave up glaring at her. With a long-suffering huff of indignation, and one final glare at all the rest of them, he turned and stalked away.
"Oh, well!" Druvilla said with a flutter of hands and bat wings. She turned back to the rest of the group. "You know how busy Spearos-sama is! Why, you'd think he didn't have any time for entertainment like the Festival, but he really has such a marvelous sense of humor! Just wait until you see what he's going to wear!"
Erta looked as doubtful of that as Zelgadis felt. But, since the immediate threat of Spearos' glare was gone, she ignored Druvilla and fixed her expectant gaze on Xelloss and Zelgadis again. Zelgadis felt a familiar flutter of dark energy. Xelloss was going to get desperate in a moment, or maybe, Zelgadis thought, he was just ready for dinner.
Fortunately for the continued health of everyone present, Nigel appeared at the door to the kitchen at that moment, followed by Ed with his arms full of huge, covered basket.
"I would love to hear what you're planning to wear, Erta-sama!" Nigel said graciously, throwing his arm around her shoulder, and tugging her away from Xelloss. "Please, do tell!"
Meanwhile, Ed edged around the group and quickly handed Zelgadis the basket.
"Should keep you good for a few days at least," he said. He winked and waved as he turned away. Xelloss waved back at him and ushered Zelgadis out of harm's way.
As soon as they were out of sight of the group, a series of pops and splats rang out behind them. Zelgadis assumed that the chef and Nigel were safely out of range of the garbage bins by then. He couldn't help noticing that Erta's screech sounded more like an offended tom cat than the stuck pig squeals he would've expected.
After that incident, Zelgadis was almost looking forward to seeing Shuno and Melly again. At least they were usually relatively quiet, and no longer asked awkward questions or expected them to tell tales.
Shuno was Xelloss' problem, after all, and there was always a chance that Melly's hobby of the moment would not intrude on their study time - or so he told himself the next morning with as much optimism as he could manage, as he headed down the path that would take them around the village to Melly's library, with Xelloss placidly humming along beside him.
It was a rare warm autumn day, with puffs of clouds blowing up from the south, bringing the scent of the ocean up to them with an early promise of the next storm to come. The hooked point stood out against the sea and sky, the jumbled ruins standing sharp and clear in the daylight, yet all still shrouded in an aura of sea mist and shadow.
Myona came trotting up to meet them, tousled and breathless as usual, at the foot of the path that led up onto the bluff on the north side of the bay. While they paused to let him catch his breath, he seemed to struggle to keep his gaze from looking across the bay to the ruins. Zelgadis hoped the weather hadn't inspired him to go out there before joining them. It would be a good day for exploring, though. For a moment he regretted that they hadn't chosen to go up to the Gulch instead of shutting themselves up inside.
Even Melly seemed to be inspired by the rare mild day. They found him outside, at a table in the ornamental gazebo just off the path. He called out and waved at them to join him. Zelgadis exchanged a wary glance with Xelloss, but then he sighed. Whatever Melly was up to, they should be able to make their escape easily out here in the open.
He scanned the area for any hints of Melly's new project, but found no sign of danger. Instead, he noticed that the garden had been tended neatly for autumn. Dead plants had been cleared away, and dry leaves raked up to blanket flower beds, ready for winter. He remembered Dulcy mentioning that someone from the village tended the garden, but he'd never seen anyone doing so. It was far too neat and orderly to have been done by Melly, and he could not imagine Dulcy as a gardener.
Tea and cakes on a tray, with a few extra teacups, were all laid out in the gazebo, but it soon became clear that Melly had not simply come out here to have brunch in the garden with his guests. The notable absence of Dulcinia or Shuno should, perhaps, have been a warning, but by the time any of them realized what was happening, it was too late to escape. As Xelloss pointed out later, they were only victims of their own curiosity.
Melly had surrounded himself with papers and pens, and in front of him was a box full of slips of smaller papers and note cards. He was busily thumbing through these and jotting down notations in a small, leather bound notebook.
A fitful breeze played around the table. Some of the papers were weighted down with stones or cutlery, but every so often a sheet would catch the wind and flutter away. Melly did not seem to notice, or care. One sheet flew right out of his hand, a slip of paper that Zelgadis could just see was covered with scribbled handwriting.
"Well, no," Melly shrugged as it flew away, drifting out to sea on the breeze. "Really, that one would not have worked anyway."
"Oh, no, not this again," Myona breathed as they approached, the words barely discernible in his sigh.
"What is he planning this time?" Xelloss wondered, watching a few more sheets of blank paper float away to snag on the leafless shrubs. "Some new and marvelous invention, I suppose?"
"If it's something inspired by your fashion modeling yesterday, I'm not sure we want to know," Zelgadis said.
"Not inventing," Myona murmured. "Maybe worse. Writing. A book. Or maybe a play, or... " he paused and winced as if in pain, "maybe poetry. He tries this every so often, usually right before the Festival."
"A book?" Zelgadis asked, slowing his steps as he considered what kind of thing Melly might try to write. "Is that even allowed around here?"
Myona nodded toward the box of notes.
"It's frowned on at the Temple, but they can't really tell the Mala what to do. He'll say it's for Recitation. Somebody actually had to Recite a story of his once," he said, shaking his head sadly, his voice dropping even lower. "They ended up quitting clerical training and going out to sea. We never saw them again..."
Xelloss made a soft, sympathetic noise, but he appeared more curious than concerned.
"Still, this doesn't sound too bad," Zelgadis murmured. "Though I'm sure Spearos-sama would disagree. At least, it couldn't be much worse than Martina's books, I suppose?"
Myona gave him a look of serious doubt.
"Well, this is Melianthus Asmalath we're talking about," Xelloss reminded him under his breath as they drew nearer.
He had a point, Zelgadis thought. Even if Melly wrote down the entire catalog of Lina Inverse's many adventures, it most likely would be the most fatally dull story ever set to the page. It might well infect the the human spirit with a more virulent strain of dullness than the Relics of Shimer. He might have to rescue Xelloss from the effects of it!
Then again, it was highly unlikely that Melly would continue to pursue this goal for even an entire week, so he supposed there was little danger after all.
Myona did not seem to be as certain of that. He dragged his feet, his face curled up as if in pain, as if this was the most excruciating event since the singing contest, more frightening than Melly's attempts at knife throwing, and more distasteful than the horrible incense he'd created a few days earlier.
Xelloss seemed blithely unaware of any impending doom. Either that, or he found Myona's horrified reaction more of a treat than anything else. He trotted up to Melly's makeshift writing desk and began to coo and aah at this wonderful new project.
With a sigh of resignation, Zelgadis followed him, took a seat at the table, and poured himself a cup of tea. Might as well not let the breakfast go to waste, he thought. And it was an unusually nice day. At least Melly didn't have any chains lying about, this time.
"Oooh, Melly-sama, are you really writing a book?" Xelloss cried. "What a wonderful idea! What are you going to write about?"
Melly affected a writerly pose, tipping his head to the side, pen tapping on his lip, while he hummed and nodded and seemed to ponder this very essential question.
"I have so many ideas, Xelloss-sama! I'm just at the planning stages, you know, trying to sort them all out."
This was apparently quite literally the case. He had divided the papers into several piles, and he carefully placed each new note into one of them, after first reading it over and humming at it for a minute or so.
With a sense of morbid curiosity, like watching a chariot race and waiting for the inevitable wreck, Zelgadis got up and went around to the other side of the table, and tried to make out what was written on some of the sheets. Most of them were just a line or two, or even a few words, scribbled in Melly's jagged handwriting, with an abundance of exclamation points on many of them.
"The boat comes to a giant waterfall!" one said. "They find out - they were twins! Separated at birth!" said another, and "the treasure is cursed!"
One page that was set apart from the others had most of the words scratched out and re-written.
"Hero is a simple..." it began, but almost all the rest was crossed out: "woodcutter (too cliche)farmer? chemist barber dentist! yes- no that's silly - executioner, that's original! no too morbid, barber? tailor hairdresserfairy godmother, no that's not right! " and finally, in a shaky flourish, "TAILOR."
Another note, Zelgadis hoped it was in the reject pile, simply said "don't forget the drunken squirrel!"
Since Xelloss had asked, Melly insisted they all gather around for a detailed explanation. "Now, then, you must all listen and tell me - honestly! - what you think of this idea!"
At that moment, Zelgadis realized that they'd been trapped once again. They might well be obligated to remain here as Melly's audience and sounding-board for the rest of the morning.
He sighed again. Well, it was a nice day out, after all, so he supposed they could spare a few minutes - hopefully not hours! - to relax in the warm sun. They were all adept at closing off parts of their attention, a skill necessary for spellcasting in any case.
He helped himself to more tea and a muffin, and leaned back on the railing of the gazebo to listen for a while. Or at least, pretend to listen long enough to be polite.
"Our Intrepid Heroes," Melly began grandly, "are off to meet their destiny in the great battle with the Great and Mighty Overlord of the Evil Castle of Doom, where Taylor the Tailor will fight the final fight to the death! In a dramatic twist of character development, Taylor will finally agree to use his family's ancient, sacred weapon, the Sacred Spade - no, wait, that sounds awkward."
He broke off to scribble out a line and quickly penned in some new words "Sacred Shovel! Of Doom! No ,wait," he said again, with more scribbling, "that's the name of Eric's er, no, Frannie's castle isn't it. Taylor can't have the same... how about Shovel of Death! The Sacred Shovel of Death!... no, hm, that sounds rather bland, really. Maybe it should be a pitchfork? Instead of a shovel? More pointed. Oh, I know! It's a magical pitchfork! His father's - no no, his father was a candle-maker, what would he be doing with a magical pitchfork? His mother's Magical Pitchfork of Death! Perfect."
He scribbled, scratched out, and scribbled again as he spoke, and finally sat back with a flourish and a nod of satisfaction.
"Why does a tailor have a pitchfork as a weapon?" Xelloss asked thoughtfully, finger to his chin.
Melly tipped his head one way, then the other, then shrugged vaguely, if that's what the slight shift of his shoulders was meant to be.
"Well, he has to have something, you know. He can't just kill an evil overlord of doom with a needle and thread, now, can he? That would be silly."
"Who is Frannie?" Myona asked. He had finally braved joining them at the table, and now, drawn in in spite of himself, he twisted his head around to try to read some of the scattered notes.
"You know, Frannie? The Great and Mighty Overlord of the Evil Castle of Doom?" Melly said.
"Oh. Right." Myona nodded, blank faced and deadpan. "How could I forget... Frannie. The villain. Of course."
Naturally, Xelloss could not leave well enough alone.
"What was Taylor's mother doing with a magical pitchfork?" he asked.
"Well, you know," Melly waved his hands, pen in one hand and a sheet of paper flapping in the other.
A blob of ink flew off the tip of the pen and landed on Zelgadis' muffin, just as he lifted it to his lips. He sighed and set it down again. He couldn't even blame Xelloss for that one, he supposed.
"Frannie's - no wait, Taylor, we're talking about Taylor now, aren't we?" Melly giggled briefly. "Taylor's mother was a, a, let's see, she was a kitchen maid. She needed that pitchfork to keep the gnomes from digging up the kitchen garden, you see. That's why it's a magical pitchfork."
"Of course!" Xelloss cried, slapping his fist against his palm. "It all makes sense now! Ordinary pitchforks are no good at all against kitchen garden gnomes!"
"No," Melly agreed, nodding solemnly. "They are not. Only against regular garden gnomes. But since she was a kitchen maid, she needed the magical kind of pitchfork, of course."
"Of course," Zelgadis said, rubbing his temple.
"But!" Melly announced, holding up a page as if it were a banner of triumph. "Here's the twist! I know you'll all love this part!"
All three of them leaned back warily, eyeing the Mala with a touch of dread.
"What happens?" Xelloss asked cautiously. "Don't tell me, Frannie the Great and Mighty Overlord of the Evil Castle of Doom is really-" he paused to gasp, "-Taylor's father?"
"It - no. What?" Melly stammered, stopped cold in mid-motion.
After a moment of confusion, he appeared to start considering this new idea seriously. Apparently he'd forgotten that Taylor's father was already a candlestick maker - or perhaps he was now simply the most evil candlestick maker that had ever made a candlestick.
Finally, Melly wrinkled his delicate nose and shook his head.
"No, no, Xelloss-san, I'm almost certain that That Has Been Done."
"Ah, you may be right," Xelloss conceded, turning away to hide a smile. Melly did not notice.
"No, no... where was I?" Melly said. He shuffled his papers, a little desperately until he triumphantly pulled one from the middle of the stack.
"Ah yes. Here we are. The twist!"
They waited, something short of breathless with anticipation. Zelgadis took a little more tea.
"In order to defeat Frannie the Great and Mighty Overlord of the Evil Castle of Doom," Melly began, "Taylor must relinquish his beloved weapon, the - what did I decide? Oh yes, Magical Pitchfork Of Death, right. The Magical Pitchfork Of Death has been cursed by an evil gnome who was chased from the kitchen garden by Taylor's mother, and it will ultimately betray whomsoever wishes to wield it for good! So they have to get rid of it."
"And how do they do that?" Zelgadis prompted, with a sense of the inevitability of Fate pulling the words out of his mouth.
"It must be cast," Melly said, sighing with what was probably meant to be great dramatic emotion, "Into the great and terrible volcano, the ... the Doomy Mountain Of Doom."
He looked around the table and beamed at them all, although being Melly, it was a faint beam. He took their speechless reactions as a sign of awe.
"Mm. Nice, isn't it?" He nodded, hands folded and eyes closed in placid content.
"That sounds... vaguely familiar, too," Myona said cautiously.
"Hm? What's that? Did you have something to add, Myona-kun?"
Myona shook his head and backed off a step, but Zelgadis was thinking the same thing. He was quite certain there was a famous tale with just exactly that same plot twist. Even Xelloss seemed to have heard of it, if the giggle he was hiding behind his fist was any indication.
None of them wanted to be the one to tell Melly that his wonderful new plot twist had also Already Been Done.
"But," Xelloss said after a long awkward moment of silence, "Melianthas-sama, how will throwing the evil, accursed Magical Pitchfork of Death into the depths of the Doomy Mountain of Doom help Taylor the Tailor defeat Frannie the Great and Mighty Overlord in the Evil Castle of Doom?"
"Ah! Aha, yes. Well..." Melly began, stalled, and then dove in to his piles of paper again. "Yes! Just one moment, I'm quite sure I've got some excellent ideas to answer that question, right here... one moment...you'll all love this, I'm quite sure! Just let me find it again... "
"You just had to ask, didn't you," Zelgadis groaned under his breath.
If they had to sit there until Melly figured out an explanation for his story, they might never get to the library today at all.
"It's a perfectly reasonable question, Zel-san," Xelloss answered, smilingly benignly at him. "And I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable and logical answer!"
Myona was looking at Xelloss across the table with the "you are such a dork" expression he usually reserved for Shuno in his most oblivious moments. Xelloss shrugged with all the innocence of a Mazoku who had just ruined his companions' morning even more than it had already been ruined.
Melly shuffled the papers around, throwing them into even greater disorder than they already were. Even Zelgadis, who had disordered quite a few library filing systems in his day felt his fingers itch to grab the stacks and start organizing them into some semblance of sanity. Considering Melly had written them in the first place, that might not even be possible.
However, fate had decreed that they were never to find out how Taylor the Tailor was going to defeat Frannie the Evil Overlord of Whatever, magical pitchfork or not. At that very moment, there was, as Melly might have written, an Ominous Interruption.
Everyone except Melly turned at the sound of flapping feet hurrying up the garden path.
"Geki?" Myona said, his voice a question that echoed Zelgadis' own surprise.
The familiar lizard-boy, most often seen lounging in the sun at the Temple gatehouse, was now racing up the path toward them full tilt, head down, almost on all four feet, and panting like a teakettle. When he spotted the gathering in the gazebo, he raised his head, nearly stumbled, paused and gulped to catch his breath, and then heaved an immense sigh of relief.
Zelgadis was nearly as relieved by the timely interruption, until he heard the first words that tumbled out of Geki's mouth.
"Oh! Oh good oh good, you are all 'ere, all safe, thank th' Mother."
He steadied himself with another deep breath, long fingers clutching his side. Then his full distress returned again and he sped on toward them, wringing his hands and starting to chatter.
Zelgadis and Myona both ran to meet him and helped him along to a chair, where he sat, thin chest heaving, gasping out a jumbled explanation in between breaths.
Between his rapid, worried chatter and his accent, Zelgadis could hardly make out what he was going on about, only that it sounded like mishap had occurred at the Temple.
Xelloss must have caught more of the words. He lifted his head and his eyes flickered wide for a moment, and Myona drew in a sharp breath. They both glanced toward the south, toward the hooked point. Zelgadis realized what it must be.
"Another fall from the Bridge?" he asked.
Geki leaned over with one hand on the table, the other holding his side. He nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again, giving up speech for a moment. Finally the words started to tumble out again.
"It's 'orrible, 'orrible! She saw it... poor woman... it's worse than... we never... and 'ow he got over th'other side, we can't even..."
In the midst of all this, Melly finally looked up from his scribbles.
"Geki-kun? You seem terribly put out. Won't you have some tea?"
Zelgadis nearly slammed his head into the table. He saw Myona wince and shake his head in disbelief. Xelloss succeeded in ignoring the Mala entirely.
"Who saw what, and who fell, and where?" he asked sharply. He leaned toward Geki to catch his attention. "Is the High Priestess all right?"
Myona jerked and his eyes went wide, staring at Xelloss and then to Geki anxiously. The lizard boy was already shaking his head.
"No no no! They're okay. Nowhere near any of it, the High Priestesses weren't. Druvilla-san," he said shortly.
He sat up and made a final effort to catch his breath and put his words straight.
"Sorry. No, was Druvilla-san who saw it 'n' came to get help. Ran all the way down from th' south 'ill to the village. Just 'bout collapsed at the 'igh Priestess's feet. Took a little more afore we could make out what she was yellin', and then we all took off back up over the Bridge 'ill to find 'im, so we did. Searched for nearly an hour. He was out cold, all in a 'eap o'feathers, down the dunes behind that li'l bit o'beach below the Bridge, there," he went on.
He flapped a hand toward the south, and his gaze flicked to Myona as if to make sure someone knew what beach he meant. Zelgadis met Xelloss' scowl in a quick glance over Myona's head; he remembered that little stony beach quite well. He also remembered who they'd seen there, or rather, who had seen them.
"Who did you find? Did you say feathers?" he asked Geki.
"Yeah, feathers everywhere, and all bruised and scraped up like he'd been raked over the slatey shoals, 'e was," Geki went on, shaking his head. "Don't know if you ever met 'im. Chief Archivist at the Temple, 'e is; that Spearos-sensei, the bloody ol' hawk man."
* to be continued *