A World Without Heroes
Page 9
Relieved to find evidence of civilization, Jason hurried up the stone steps. He hesitated at the door. Maybe it was a huge tomb. The thought froze him momentarily. Did he really want to enter a mausoleum in the middle of nowhere?
He grasped the brass handle and tugged the heavy door, relieved to find it unlocked, because who would leave a tomb unlocked? He pulled it open wide.
An old man wearing a purple hat shaped like a limp mushroom looked up from a great wooden desk as Jason came through the door. A large pair of wire-rimmed spectacles rested on his bony nose, the lenses segmented into bifocals. He tilted his head back and stared at Jason with magnified irises. The skin below his eyes drooped in curved seams.
“Great Mother of Knowledge,” the man whispered.
“Hello,” Jason said, relieved to have found an actual, nonfurious person.
The man arose and came around the desk. His purple knickers matched his hat and ballooned at the thighs. Bright buckles gleamed on his shoes.
“Welcome, Seeker of Knowledge,” he intoned importantly. “Surely you have traveled far and endured much hardship to earn the right to study at the Repository of Learning. Few have the courage to come here, or the skill to find this remarkable edifice.”
“I’m from far away, I guess. I’m definitely glad to see you.”
The old man rubbed his hands together. “You are the first valiant adventurer in a decade to win through to these hallowed corridors of enlightenment. Truly, you must be an explorer driven by a profound appetite for knowledge. I have been too long without new companionship. Pray, regale me with tales of your journey.”
Jason blinked and scratched his cheek awkwardly. “You never get visitors? I just saw a bunch of people at the waterfall not far from here.”
The old man scowled thoughtfully. “Locals rarely come as close to the repository as the falls. There must have been some special occasion.”
Jason was not eager to recount his accident with the raft. “I guess. You said you wanted my story? Well, I was swallowed by a hippopotamus. Except I didn’t go into the hippo. I ended up in a tree. Then I sort of wandered here.”
The eyes behind the spectacles narrowed. “You choose to speak in riddles. Very well, you have earned the right to be cryptic. I am the loremaster Bridonus Keplin Dunscrip Garonicum the Ninth. I am custodian of the knowledge hoarded here. How may I be of service?”
Jason regarded the old man thoughtfully. “Nobody has come here in a decade?”
“You are the first in ten years.”
“What do you do all day?”
He cocked his head. “I manage the records. I tend the lore. Every volume is catalogued in my mind.” He tapped a long finger against his temple.
“So you’re a librarian.”
His eyes shifted back and forth. “I prefer loremaster.”
“Look, my name is Jason, and I stumbled across this place by accident, although it sounds like some people go out of their way to find it. I can see why it takes them a while, since you’re located in the middle of nowhere. Can you tell me where I am?”
The loremaster seemed at a loss. “You are in the Repository of Learning,” he explained hesitantly.
“No. I mean in general. This world. Does it have a name?”
The loremaster leaned forward, eyebrows twitching upward. “This world?”
“Have you ever heard of Colorado?”
“I have not.”
“But you speak English.”
“Naturally. Most speak the common tongue.”
“Do you know where English comes from?”
“From the Beyond. You ask suspicious questions, traveler.”
“Do I?” Jason chuckled. “You would too, in my shoes. As far as I know, you’re a hallucination, part of a crazy dream that won’t quit.”
“I see,” the loremaster said. “You are a philosopher.”
“No, I came out of my world somehow. I ended up in these woods. I’m from the same place as English.”
The loremaster’s expression became guarded. “A Beyonder?”
“Maybe, if you say English comes from the Beyond. Do people often visit from my world?”
“Not any longer,” the loremaster replied skeptically.
“Do you know how I can get back?”
The loremaster gave Jason a sad smile. “Say no more. Did you journey to this sanctuary simply to mock me? Who put you up to this? My son, perhaps?”
“You think I’m kidding?”
The loremaster placed his fists on his hips. “You would like me to believe that the first Beyonder to visit Lyrian in many decades happened to wander into the Repository of Learning? I may be notoriously gullible, young traveler, but even I have limits.”
Jason raised his hands to his forehead. “I don’t believe this. You seem like someone who could help me if you believed me.”
The loremaster’s smile warmed, as if enjoying the absurdity that Jason was remaining in character after having been unmasked. “Enough nonsense. Surely you came here for more than a prank?”
“The name of this world is Lyrian?”
The exasperated loremaster made no response.
“Where is the nearest town?”
The loremaster removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “As you well know, there is no settlement in the immediate area. The nearest town is two days east of here.”
“Then why were dozens of people watching musicians float off a nearby waterfall?”
“I seldom concern myself with local events beyond these walls.”
Jason dug in his pocket and pulled out his keys. A small laser pointer dangled from the key chain. Pressing a button, he shone a red dot onto the wall. “Ever seen a laser pointer?”
“What a curious instrument,” the loremaster remarked, genuine interest returning to his voice.
Jason pulled up the blue pant leg of his coveralls. “Look at my boot. Based on what I noticed people wearing at the waterfall, you’ve never seen shoes like these.”
The loremaster leaned down, squinting. “Most uncommon workmanship.”
Jason patted his pockets. “I left most of my things in my locker. But I’m guessing my outfit isn’t typical either.”
“Agreed.”
“Well, I’ve never seen a hat like yours. I’m telling you, it might sound as strange to you as it feels to me, but I’m truly not from around here.”
The loremaster clasped his hands together, extending his index fingers and leaning them against his dry lips. “The arrival of a Beyonder would be momentous news. I would be a fool to believe it was possible. An old fool who should know better. Yet you give me pause.”
He grasped the brass handle and tugged the heavy door, relieved to find it unlocked, because who would leave a tomb unlocked? He pulled it open wide.
An old man wearing a purple hat shaped like a limp mushroom looked up from a great wooden desk as Jason came through the door. A large pair of wire-rimmed spectacles rested on his bony nose, the lenses segmented into bifocals. He tilted his head back and stared at Jason with magnified irises. The skin below his eyes drooped in curved seams.
“Great Mother of Knowledge,” the man whispered.
“Hello,” Jason said, relieved to have found an actual, nonfurious person.
The man arose and came around the desk. His purple knickers matched his hat and ballooned at the thighs. Bright buckles gleamed on his shoes.
“Welcome, Seeker of Knowledge,” he intoned importantly. “Surely you have traveled far and endured much hardship to earn the right to study at the Repository of Learning. Few have the courage to come here, or the skill to find this remarkable edifice.”
“I’m from far away, I guess. I’m definitely glad to see you.”
The old man rubbed his hands together. “You are the first valiant adventurer in a decade to win through to these hallowed corridors of enlightenment. Truly, you must be an explorer driven by a profound appetite for knowledge. I have been too long without new companionship. Pray, regale me with tales of your journey.”
Jason blinked and scratched his cheek awkwardly. “You never get visitors? I just saw a bunch of people at the waterfall not far from here.”
The old man scowled thoughtfully. “Locals rarely come as close to the repository as the falls. There must have been some special occasion.”
Jason was not eager to recount his accident with the raft. “I guess. You said you wanted my story? Well, I was swallowed by a hippopotamus. Except I didn’t go into the hippo. I ended up in a tree. Then I sort of wandered here.”
The eyes behind the spectacles narrowed. “You choose to speak in riddles. Very well, you have earned the right to be cryptic. I am the loremaster Bridonus Keplin Dunscrip Garonicum the Ninth. I am custodian of the knowledge hoarded here. How may I be of service?”
Jason regarded the old man thoughtfully. “Nobody has come here in a decade?”
“You are the first in ten years.”
“What do you do all day?”
He cocked his head. “I manage the records. I tend the lore. Every volume is catalogued in my mind.” He tapped a long finger against his temple.
“So you’re a librarian.”
His eyes shifted back and forth. “I prefer loremaster.”
“Look, my name is Jason, and I stumbled across this place by accident, although it sounds like some people go out of their way to find it. I can see why it takes them a while, since you’re located in the middle of nowhere. Can you tell me where I am?”
The loremaster seemed at a loss. “You are in the Repository of Learning,” he explained hesitantly.
“No. I mean in general. This world. Does it have a name?”
The loremaster leaned forward, eyebrows twitching upward. “This world?”
“Have you ever heard of Colorado?”
“I have not.”
“But you speak English.”
“Naturally. Most speak the common tongue.”
“Do you know where English comes from?”
“From the Beyond. You ask suspicious questions, traveler.”
“Do I?” Jason chuckled. “You would too, in my shoes. As far as I know, you’re a hallucination, part of a crazy dream that won’t quit.”
“I see,” the loremaster said. “You are a philosopher.”
“No, I came out of my world somehow. I ended up in these woods. I’m from the same place as English.”
The loremaster’s expression became guarded. “A Beyonder?”
“Maybe, if you say English comes from the Beyond. Do people often visit from my world?”
“Not any longer,” the loremaster replied skeptically.
“Do you know how I can get back?”
The loremaster gave Jason a sad smile. “Say no more. Did you journey to this sanctuary simply to mock me? Who put you up to this? My son, perhaps?”
“You think I’m kidding?”
The loremaster placed his fists on his hips. “You would like me to believe that the first Beyonder to visit Lyrian in many decades happened to wander into the Repository of Learning? I may be notoriously gullible, young traveler, but even I have limits.”
Jason raised his hands to his forehead. “I don’t believe this. You seem like someone who could help me if you believed me.”
The loremaster’s smile warmed, as if enjoying the absurdity that Jason was remaining in character after having been unmasked. “Enough nonsense. Surely you came here for more than a prank?”
“The name of this world is Lyrian?”
The exasperated loremaster made no response.
“Where is the nearest town?”
The loremaster removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “As you well know, there is no settlement in the immediate area. The nearest town is two days east of here.”
“Then why were dozens of people watching musicians float off a nearby waterfall?”
“I seldom concern myself with local events beyond these walls.”
Jason dug in his pocket and pulled out his keys. A small laser pointer dangled from the key chain. Pressing a button, he shone a red dot onto the wall. “Ever seen a laser pointer?”
“What a curious instrument,” the loremaster remarked, genuine interest returning to his voice.
Jason pulled up the blue pant leg of his coveralls. “Look at my boot. Based on what I noticed people wearing at the waterfall, you’ve never seen shoes like these.”
The loremaster leaned down, squinting. “Most uncommon workmanship.”
Jason patted his pockets. “I left most of my things in my locker. But I’m guessing my outfit isn’t typical either.”
“Agreed.”
“Well, I’ve never seen a hat like yours. I’m telling you, it might sound as strange to you as it feels to me, but I’m truly not from around here.”
The loremaster clasped his hands together, extending his index fingers and leaning them against his dry lips. “The arrival of a Beyonder would be momentous news. I would be a fool to believe it was possible. An old fool who should know better. Yet you give me pause.”
