Alanna The First Adventure - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,43

dark,” the knight promised. “We’re off then.”

Alanna waited until they were away from the castle before asking. “Why don’t your servants like the ruins?”

“My people claim they’re haunted,” he said. “But I doubt it. I’ve explored them for years without seeing a single ghost.”

“Why explore them so much?”

“I’m writing a paper about the place,” was the reply. “I want to show how the house was laid out, who lived there, how they lived. I’m almost finished.” He tugged his beard. “I doubt many will read it, but the work gives me satisfaction.”

Alanna shook her head. She was no scholar. “Why bring me here?” she asked, to change the subject.

“Because I was compelled,” Myles answered.

She stopped dead. “You were what?”

“I was compelled,” he said patiently. “For seven nights in a row I had the same dream. You and I were exploring the ruins, dressed exactly as we are now. When I asked Gareth to let you accompany me, the dreams stopped.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.” They started forward again. “I’m an everyday man. I like my books and my brandy and my friends. I like everything in its place, and I like to know today where I’ll be tomorrow. When the gods brush my life—they brush everyone’s life at some point—I get nervous. There’s no accounting for what the gods want.”

The woods opened up, and Alanna halted. The ruins lay before them. In some places the walls were taller than she was. They were built with marble, and the stone gleamed as if it had been carved the day before. A gate made of heavy black wood dangled half off its bronze hinges.

“Shall we go in?” Myles asked. He led the way through the gates. Alanna stopped just inside, scratching her itching nose and looking around. The remains of the stone walls stretched before them in neat rows, forming buildings and rooms inside the buildings.

Myles pointed, his finger describing a large area walled by stones. “I think this was the main house. See the door?” The knight tapped a slab of black wood leaning against a wall. “It’s six centuries old, at least.” He moved ahead confidently. “I believe this was the kitchen,” he went on as Alanna followed. “When I was younger, I found cooking implements here. I’ll show them to you when we get back.”

“What are they made of?” she asked.

Myles rubbed his nose. “It looks like bronze or copper, but it polishes to a higher shine than new metal. I think it’s the coating they were dipped in. The Old Ones treated everything with it—metal, wood, paper. Anything that might show age. They were terrified of aging.”

Alanna stared at him. “Sir?”

“No, lad, I didn’t pull that out of thin air.” Myles grinned. “I can read their writing. From what I have read, they feared aging more than anything.”

Alanna began to explore, keeping a sharp eye on the ground. A glint at the edge of a marble block caught her attention. It was a spearhead. She rubbed it until it shone. Looking around, she saw brackets carved in the stone blocks lying nearby. Those brackets would easily fit spears, swords, axes—

“Myles!” she called. “I think I found the armory!”

The man came over. “I agree. And you made another find.” He examined the spearhead. “I’m interested in cooking gear, not weapons. You’ll probably find more of these. You’re a sharp fellow, Alan.”

In the corner of the armory Alanna discovered a great piece of stone lying on the ground. Unlike the blocks that formed the walls, this slab was jet black. A metal handle was set in one side. Alanna rubbed it with her shirtsleeve.

“What makes you say that?” she asked, squinting at the edges of the slab.

“How many thirteen-year-old boys could come to a place like this and figure out where the armory was?”

She tugged at the handle. The stone didn’t move. “Myles, you seem to think I’m special. I’m not, really.” She tugged again, with both hands this time.

“It won’t move,” he said. “Mithros knows I tried often enough. I think it’s just the armory door.”

Alanna braced her feet firmly and gripped the handle. “Maybe if you’d give me a hand—” she muttered, tugging with all her strength. Myles was coming to help her when there was a groan of mechanisms long unused. Alanna jumped out of the way as the great slab slid toward her. It uncovered a stairway, leading down into darkness.

Alanna turned, sweaty and triumphant, to find Myles looking at her oddly. “Drat it, Myles, I just put my