Lacuna - N.R. Walker Page 0,25

wall to the opening, and there in the sunlight was a grassed square with potted cumquat trees. Pretty, by all accounts, and perfectly tended, but very strangely deserted.

They ran across the square and down another corridor, and at the end of that one, another going in the opposite direction. “How big is this place?” Tancho asked.

Before Crow could answer, a door banged. The same sound they’d heard before, and without a word between them, Tancho and Crow ran toward it. Tancho was faster and he reached the door first. He pulled it open and Crow took the lead with his sword at the ready.

Tancho didn’t want to admit it, but they worked well together. Moving and reacting as if they’d practised these moves a hundred times.

Nothing came out of the door at them, and it took a moment for Tancho’s eyes to adjust to the dark inside the room. It appeared to be some kind of communal meeting room, long and rectangular with stone walls and stained-glass windows. There were chairs and long seats and cushions, and unlit oil lamps sat on tables.

And it was empty.

“There is no one here,” Crow said.

By this time, Soko, Karasu, and Kohaku were behind them. Samiel and Elmwood as well, and their guards on their heels, covering the rear.

Elmwood swung his axe as though it weighed a feather. “I come from jungles that are never silent, so this is strange to me. But is it odd that it be this silent? Not a whisper, not a chirp, not a bird song, not even the leaves can find a breeze. The horses are not happy here, and I can tell you if animals fear a place, it is with good reason.”

“I agree,” Crow said.

“Something evil comes,” Tancho repeated.

“Something evil is already here,” Samiel replied.

The faintest noise, a cry or moan, echoed from inside the common room, and all heads turned to the sound. “You heard that?” Soko asked. Karasu nodded, and they went inside. Tancho and Crow followed them in, running to the end of the room, through to another set of doors. They appeared to be in an older part of the castle: the stone walls were a drab grey; the floors were tiled with marble so old there were wear marks from centuries of use. Almost as if this place and the Great Hall were different buildings. There was a small wooden door with cast iron hinges, older than seemed possible, and so small that Tancho wondered if Kohaku or Elmwood would fit through it. There was an ancient inscription carved in the stone above it.

Archīvum

“This is where Maghdlm said she was going,” Tancho pointed out, just as another groan echoed through the hall. They were closer to it, but it sounded weaker.

“Through here,” Karasu whispered, opening the small door to the archive room. Only it wasn’t a room . . .

They found themselves on a mezzanine overlooking an immense library. A spiral staircase wound its way down to floor level. Arcane lamps lit the walls so they could see the stacks and stacks of books, with ladders and crosswalks and catwalks.

Tancho was mesmerised. “There are more books than stars in the night sky.” He could feel Crow beside him, feel his eyes upon his face, but he dare not look at him.

“Why are the lamps blue?” Samiel asked.

“Arcane power,” Crow replied. Tancho didn’t know if he should be annoyed or impressed that Crow knew that. So he settled on a little of both. “They are lit by magick, not oil.”

“Look, down there,” Soko said, pointing down underneath their feet. “Someone lay on the floor.”

That someone lying on the floor groaned again. The arcane lights flickered and dimmed.

“Hurry,” Karasu said as she took to the stairs. They filed down the dizzying drop to the floor below, to find Maghdlm slumped on her side, a pool of dark red blood seeping from her head.

Karasu knelt before her, as did Tancho and Crow. The others took to the stacks searching for anyone else at all. “Maghdlm, can you hear me?” Karasu asked.

The old woman moaned, but it was now Tancho who could see her more clearly. She looked as though she’d been hit in the head by something heavy, with a sharp edge. The bottom of an iron candle holder, perhaps. There was a nasty gash to the side of her head, her face and her hair were smeared with blood, her eye was swollen shut, her face badly bruised. She opened her one good