CHAPTER THREE
A couple days later, they arrived at the plaza that still fronted on the Library of the Sapphire Wind, although the entry to the Library was now well below surface level, when once it had been right on the plaza.
Grunwold brought Slicewind down slowly, until excited honks from Heru, accompanied by trills from Grace, confirmed oothynn touchdown. Next Peg and Kaj went over the side to release Grace from the straps that had secured her to the stretcher for the duration of the flight. Once Grace had scuttled out from under the ship, and the stretcher had been removed, Grunwold brought Slicewind down to rest in the simple cradle they’d built during their last layover. Slicewind could float like a normal boat, but they’d seen things in the nearby lake that made them feel docking the sky sailer on land was wiser. There was the added benefit that those who had berths aboard Slicewind could still use them if they so wished.
“I hope Grace will be safe here,” Peg said worriedly, watching the oothynn—eyestalks extended, claws raised—examine her surroundings, starting with the open areas they’d created on the plaza, moving from there to the tangle of second-growth, almost junglelike, forest that had grown over and around the ruins of what had once been a complex that contained, according to brochures, not only the Library, but an elite hotel, and a separate building that had held labs, a scriptorium, and lecture halls.
These other buildings had been added after the death of the Library of the Sapphire Wind’s founder, Dmen Qeres. Knowing what they did about him now, including his purpose for founding the Library, Teg wondered what Dmen Qeres would have thought of the additional structures. For that matter, she wondered what Uten Kekui, Dmen Qeres’s reincarnation and Xerak’s master, thought.
“Grace will be at least as safe here as on that isolated mesa,” Xerak reassured Peg. “Probably safer, now that we know that pirates are hanging about. She’ll certainly be healthier.”
Vereez nodded agreement. “We’ve discussed this, Peg. Oothynn are tropical originally. That sandy mesa top gave Grace a surface she could burrow into, but otherwise wasn’t an ideal environment. The Library’s surroundings are more temperate than tropical, but there’s ample water, food, and, probably most important, company for her.”
“I was worrying about the land squids, and the piranha toads, and the spike wolves, and the lizard parrots,” Peg said, “and whatever lives in the lake. And—”
“Grace is larger than some apartments I’ve lived in,” Meg chided, “and, as we learned, can defend herself very well. Save your fussing for your children and your grandchildren.”
Teg chuckled to herself. They had been over this before, and Peg would come around again, especially when Grunwold reminded her, as Teg suspected he would any minute, that Peg had been the one to suggest they relocate Grace from the mesa.
I wonder if we’ll ever learn how Grace came to be stranded on that mesa for so long? Teg thought, taking her pipe and pipe weed from one of the pouches on her belt. Probably not, since our best guess is that whoever left her there long enough for her to go through several molts and be damaged because the decorative bands constricted her pipes as she grew, is probably not going to come forth.
After checking to make sure the light breeze would blow her smoke away from the sensitive noses of her companions, Teg strolled over to where she could hoist herself onto the pedestal that held the impressive statue of Dmen Qeres. Leaning back against the raven-headed figure’s wizard-robed lower body, she began to pack the pipe’s bowl.
From her elevated position, she saw a small, white-furred head poke over the upper edge of the ravine, at the bottom of which was the Library’s front façade. The head was followed by the rest of four-year-old Brunni. Teg noted how Vereez stiffened slightly, obviously hoping that Brunni would come to her, but reluctant to put pressure on the child. However, Vereez’s hopes were foredoomed to be disappointed. Brunni had no idea that Vereez was her biological mother, nor that Kaj was her biological father. As far as someone as young as her could understand relationships, her mother was Vereez’s aunt, Ranpeti, since Brunni had been taken from Vereez moments after her birth, and Vereez hadn’t met with her again until several weeks ago.
Of those who had rescued Brunni from a fate worse than death, Brunni’s favorite by far was Grunwold, and it was toward him she ran.
“Grunwold! Grunwold! I’ve been a good girl. Did you bring me anything?”
Grunwold laughed and scooped the little girl up, spinning her up over his head, before settling her into the crook of his arm.
“How about that?” he said, pointing to Grace, who was staring with three of her four eyestalks at the noisy new arrival.
It was hard to imagine that someone the size of Grace could be overlooked, but Brunni had the gift of tight focus found naturally in small children. Now her eyes, very dark against her white fur, widened, and her small ears flickered back and forth.
“Is that for me?” she said, not at all certain if she was pleased by the idea.
“Actually,” Grunwold relented, “Grace—that’s her name—is her own person, but she’s come to live here, and we hope she’ll be a friend for all of us.”
“Oh,” Brunni said, relief evident. “So, she’s not my present?”
Grunwold chuckled. “I might just have something for you. Let me put you down so I can check my pockets.”
By the time Grunwold had gone through an elaborate show of checking of each pocket, then coming out with a small, brightly wrapped package, two others had climbed up from the Library to join the group on the plaza. One was Ranpeti. Ranpeti had the large brown eyes, small ears, and rich brown fur of a sea lion. She was taller than her older sister, Inehem, and had none of the other’s silver-fox elegance and grace.
The other was Nefnet, a specialist in magical healing who had been in residence at the Library at the time of its destruction, and, thus far, the only one of those archived by Sapphire Wind to be awakened. To this point, Nefnet had chosen to reside at the Library, adjusting to the idea that after what had been to her a sleep filled with not unpleasant dreams, she had awakened to find that something like twenty-five years had gone by. Superficially, Nefnet was not unlike Ranpeti, but her characteristics were those of an otter, rather than a sea lion. Her build was less curvaceous, although definitely female.
Grunwold looked over at Ranpeti. “If I promise you that this won’t ruin Brunni’s appetite for dinner, may I give it to her?”
Ranpeti smiled, an expression of curled whiskers and a slight curve to her lipless mouth. Teg knew that Grunwold had actually checked in advance what might be a suitable present, so his question was clearly to support her maternal authority.
“Brunni has been remarkably good,” Ranpeti replied, in a rich, alto voice. “I think so.”
Only then did Grunwold hand over the package.
“Thank you, Grunwold!” Brunni piped, then plopped butt-down on the elaborate pavement, swept clean now of the vegetative debris that had all but obscured it when they had first come to the Library ruins. Growling in concentration, the little girl undid the knots that tied closed a bandana-sized piece of fabric commonly used instead of paper for wrapping, revealing a bundle of what were, essentially, crayons. There was also a small pad of drawing paper. By way of thanks, Brunni immediately started drawing what was evidently, based on the spikes coming up from the head, meant to be a portrait of Grunwold.
Meanwhile, Nefnet had been looking at Grace with evident interest. “She’s magnificent! I can see where her pipes were damaged. Although I’m no expert, I think a few molts should take care of the remaining indentations.”
Peg had been over by Grace, gently crooning to her, and now she patted the oothynn next to one eyestalk. “Isn’t that lovely, my dear? Nefnet says soon you’ll be back in full voice.”
Teg doubted Grace actually understood but, then again, who knew what the translation spell might be capable of? Whether coincidentally or not, Grace fluted the “doe a deer” scale song that Peg had taught her as a means of testing her musical range. In definite imitation of Peg’s habit of waving her hands to mark time, Grace moved one pair of enormous claws.
This caught Brunni’s attention, and she stopped drawing to stare in fascination, then started bouncing to the beat and waving her crayon. Teg had been enjoying the scene so much that she’d missed seeing the arrival of Ohent, mother of Kaj and, through no direct fault of her own, one of those who had contributed to destruction of the Library.
Teg was delighted to see that Ohent’s snow leopard’s head, although topped with a sort of cap out of which her rounded ears poked, was not shrouded within veils. The veils were there, attached to the cap, but pulled back. That Ohent did not feel she must cover those brilliant blue eyes said a great deal about the efficacy of the course of treatment she had been following under Nefnet’s direction.
It probably also helps that Ohent is no longer being sent nightmares by Ba Djed of the Weaver. Still, that she could begin to recover so quickly says a great deal, not only about Nefnet’s skills, but about Ohent’s own strength of character.
Ohent had gone over to Kaj and was leaning against her son. Kaj might be a playboy who had left a string of broken hearts and fond memories behind him—and quite possibly more by-blows than Brunni—but he had been a devoted son to his borderline insane mother. Now, without even seeming aware of doing so, he put an arm about her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze.
Teg’s childhood had been pretty much without affection, although she’d been spared outright physical abuse. Now, watching Kaj and Ohent’s quiet reunion, she felt more than a little wistful. Remembering her pipe, she pulled out a book of matches bearing the logo of Taima University and struck a light.
She barely had the pipe drawing nicely before Brunni looked up from her coloring with a yelp of disgust. “Teg’s doing the stinky thing again!”
“That I am,” Teg agreed, “and if you don’t like it, go inside. You can color there just as well.”
Ranpeti looked at her daughter in mild reproof. “Remember what we’ve discussed, about how if we’re going to live here with other people, we need to learn to compromise?”
Brunni stiffened. “I don’t want to go back to the Isles. Here’s more fun. I’ll remember.” Pushing off from the ground with her hands, she got to her feet, then bent to collect her crayons and drawing pad. “But it’s still stinky.”
Teg had to laugh. “You’re in the majority on that, Brunni, but I’m not quite ready to quit.”
Meg and Xerak went inside with Brunni and Ranpeti, followed by Grunwold, partly dragged by Brunni, who had stuffed her crayons into a tunic pocket so she could grab his hand. Vereez trailed after.
Ohent and Nefnet stayed out long enough for Peg, assisted by Kaj, to introduce Grace to these new friends. Eventually, however, they also went in, leaving Teg to finish her pipe with Heru and Grace for company. Heru seemed to have taken charge of Grace’s orientation, the two of them communicating with a series of hoots and whistled notes. They were venturing off into the tangled growth when Teg finished her smoke.
“Be careful, you two,” Teg called after them. “Heru, remember that Grace can’t fly away if some spike wolves or piranha toads decide to find out what she tastes like. And remember the lizard parrots do seem to find you tasty.”
Heru squawked in indignation. “As if thems trouble forz us! Grace would cut them up: snip, snip! We go to the lake, by the trail. She misses water so much.”
“Remind her to stay in the shallows,” Teg cautioned. “There are supposed to be some nasty creatures out in the depths.”
“Will do!” Heru assured her. “Will do!”
Teg thought about trailing them, then shrugged. If Grace was going to live within the Library grounds, it was better to find out if anything would be a threat to her while they were here to help. She scraped the dottle from her pipe bowl and decided to leave the pipe on the statue’s pedestal to cool—which should also spare her more of Brunni’s criticism.
I really should give up smoking, Teg thought. At least I’ve cut back a lot on the cigarettes, partly because they’re impossible to get Over Where.
When Teg walked through the doorways into the Library of the Sapphire Wind, she found that just about everyone had gathered in the large reception hall. Back in the Library’s heyday, the reception hall had included information desks, sage stations, waiting areas, and long tables where those who wished to work in groups could meet.
When Sapphire Wind had first admitted them through the towering doors, the reception area had been littered with rubble, the walls blackened with smoke, and most of the furniture overturned. Today, while the reception hall was not exactly restored to its former glory and there was still rubble heaped around the edges, it looked a whole lot better. The floors and tables were cleaned and polished. Broken stone had been removed to reveal what remained of the sage stations. Above, the lovely constellation mural set into the domed ceiling was now as richly colored as if it had been freshly created that very day.
From the amount of work that had been done even since their last visit, Teg guessed that Sapphire Wind had regained control of more of the various weird and wonderful creatures that enabled it to protect and maintain the Library. Some of these creatures, like the abau—round, flat creatures that Peg had dubbed “flying pancakes”—handled routine dusting and polishing far better than even a large janitorial staff could have done.
Today, Teg hardly registered the changes, because the first thing she saw was a barrel-chested man with the head of a bison in the midst of a vigorous argument with a tornado delineated by dense blue sparkles. She froze in midstep, unwilling to draw attention to herself, but determined to stay and watch—she couldn’t resist the image—the sparks fly.
Confrontation between Sapphire Wind, the genius loci of the Library, and the wizard Uten Kekui had been brewing for a while. Teg felt deeply relieved that the altercation had broken out while they were present to witness it, rather than otherwise.
Or maybe, she thought, it broke out precisely because we are here. Sapphire Wind knows who its allies—even its friends—are.
Uten Kekui was the reincarnation of Dmen Qeres, the founder of the Library of the Sapphire Wind. He was also the custodian, in both lives, of Ba Djed of the Weaver, one of the three great artifacts that maintained the Bridge of Lives. Possibly, most importantly, given this situation, Uten Kekui was the long-sought, much-admired, much-desired teacher and apprentice master of Xerak.
Teg had apparently walked into the middle of a tirade, for Uten Kekui was building up to his peroration.
“And I am fed up with your balking at even my most simple request!” he bellowed.
“It is the policy of this facility,” replied Sapphire Wind, its words coming from the beak of Friba, the purple-and-green lizard parrot Sapphire Wind had been training so that Meg would not need to be available for it to speak, “that appropriate request forms be filled out before materials are released or facilities activated.”
Only the increased rapidity of the sparkling tornado’s spinning showed that the genius loci was other than perfectly calm. Uten Kekui did not appear to notice.
“I don’t see you bothering Nefnet with forms,” he countered.
“Nefnet is on the Library staff,” came the prim reply, “a position she agreed to resume when she was taken from among the Archived.”
“Ohent? Cerseru Kham? Ranpeti?” Uten Kekui turned each name into an accusation.
“None of these have objected to filling out document control forms. Ohent-lial even found the forms where they had been protected from destruction within a drawer in a sage station.”
From where she sat at one of the long tables, Ohent chuckled, the narrowing of her blue snow leopard eyes making clear she was anything but amused.
“I did find them, that I did. I’ve always had a gift for finding lost things.”
Uten Kekui bunched his shoulders and looked as if he might butt the spinning tornado with his horns. “I only asked for the book I was reading yesterday!”
“And duly returned,” said Sapphire Wind. “Thus, a new requisition form is required.”
“But you know exactly where it is! You could send Emsehu or one of your creatures to fetch it and have it back to me in less time than it would take me to fill out the form.”
The tornado only twisted in the air.
Uten Kekui bellowed. “There are fewer than a dozen adults in residence here! Such procedures are unnecessary!”
“Thirteen, if we count Emsehu,” Sapphire Wind corrected, “which I most certainly do.”
“Thirteen, then. Fourteen with the kid. Fifteen with the xuxu, I suppose.”
“If we’re counting Heru,” Peg said to Grunwold, not quite sotto voce, “then what about Grace?”
Grunwold hushed her.
Meg interjected herself into the conversation, acid dripping from every syllable. “And what about Sapphire Wind? Since the Library was not created for the use of their sort of creature, I suppose I can see discounting the xuxu or the oothynn. Even Emsehu falls into an odd category as a unique monstrosity. But how would you classify Sapphire Wind? Surely not as a juvenile.”
Uten Kekui must have been a superlative teacher, or else Xerak would not have sacrificed so much to find him. However, clearly, he was not accustomed to being questioned, at least not on a subject on which he felt himself an authority. He wheeled on Meg and snapped out his reply.
“An artifact! One I, or rather my prior self, created to serve this library.”
“Which is precisely what Sapphire Wind is doing,” Meg retorted tartly. “Serving this library.”
“But it seems to have forgotten that this is my library!” Uten Kekui bellowed.
And this “forgetting” is really the point, Teg thought, isn’t it?
Through the cross currents of argument, Sapphire Wind had continued to swirl silently in place. Now Nefnet spoke quickly, before Meg, whose pale cheeks were each accented with a bright pink anger spot, could get out a coherent retort.
“Actually, Uten Kekui,” Nefnet said, flashing her teeth in a manner that reminded that “cute” otters were top-end predators, “there is some question to that claim. Dmen Qeres did not leave the Library of the Sapphire Wind to you.”
“How could he?” Uten Kekui replied pedantically. “We may come to recall our past lives, but we cannot know who our future selves will be.”
“Precisely,” Nefnet said. “At best, you would have needed to—after you had remembered your life as Dmen Qeres—visit the Library and reclaim Ba Djed of the Weaver from where your earlier self had hidden it in the repository to await his future self. Despite this future need, he did not leave you the Library.”
“Fine. True enough,” Uten Kekui said with such careful patience that Teg knew he regretted his outburst, if for no other reason than it showed him at his worst. “However, Ba Djed is what Sapphire Wind draws upon to function at its fullest capacity. Correct?”
Vari-shaped heads dipped in acknowledgement. Even Sapphire Wind’s funnel inclined.
Uten Kekui continued. “If one accepts that, one might go on to say that since Sapphire Wind cannot function as intended without Ba Djed, and, in turn, that the Library cannot function at its best without Sapphire Wind, therefore, if Ba Djed is my inheritance, then, by extension, so is Sapphire Wind, and so is the Library. I am certain that is what my past self intended.”
Teg felt uneasy. I hadn’t really thought about all the different sorts of people there are in this world. It’s been enough of an adjustment that “people” don’t even have the same sort of heads or tails or markings. Could it be that no matter how intelligent, determined, and adaptable Sapphire Wind has proven to be, especially since the destruction of the Library, that it will always be considered property of a sort? How are unique monstrosities like Emsehu rated? Heck, Meg has a point. What about xuxu and oothynn?
“Does anyone know who owns the Library now?” Peg asked. “It must have been left to someone. I guess those are the ones with whom Uten Kekui-va is going to need to argue.”
When Uten Kekui swiveled to look at Peg, it occurred to Teg that the bison-headed wizard was not necessarily being bull-headed. It was only a week or so since Uten Kekui had formally accepted the custodianship of Ba Djed and, with that, the fact that he was the reincarnation of the somewhat problematic Dmen Qeres. It was completely possible that, with all of this hitting him at once, especially if any memories of the entitled egoist that he had been were finally mixing into his own, Uten Kekui might have overlooked just how much time had passed since Dmen Qeres’s death and his own new awareness.
It’s been something over twenty-five years since the Library was destroyed, and Dmen Qeres had been dead for many years before that.
“Good question,” Teg put in, doing her best to infuse her response with warmth and curiosity rather than challenge. She moved from the arch of the doorway where she had been standing and drifted to join the rest over by the long tables. “Any poffee? What’s on Slicewind had gone cold.”
“Here’s some,” Ranpeti replied, indicating a carafe on the table. “As for Peg’s question, I asked Konnel if he’d look into the question of ownership the last time that he was here for a treatment from Nefnet. I’d been worrying about ways that Inehem and Zarrq”—her sister and brother-in-law, Vereez’s parents—“might try to get leverage on us. We wrote a pretty tidy contract, and I’m sure Xerak’s curse would restrain them from direct action, but it occurred to me that if they could get a hold of the real estate—or even some of the surrounding land or water rights, we could have trouble.”
“Brilliant!” Xerak said, the relief in his voice as much, Teg suspected, for how Ranpeti had helped defuse the tension as for the information. “We did put in a clause about interfering with the Library ‘directly or indirectly,’ but would that be enforceable for the associated lands?”
“Has Dad found anything?” Grunwold asked. “Or hasn’t there been time for him to get back you?”
“He sent a note via messenger xuxu,” Ranpeti said. “It came while you were away. Ohent, where did we stash it?”
Ohent rose and went to one of the lower sage stations where, in the Library’s heyday, experts on many subjects had made themselves available for consultation while carrying on their own research.
“I put it in here,” she replied, removing a small bone tube from a drawer.
Teg noticed Kaj was gazing at his mother with pride. And not only because she’s staying rooted in reality. I’d bet my last pack of cigarettes that Ohent suggested having Konnel check into land ownership. And that Ohent also suggested that Ranpeti do the asking. Sefit might not know that long ago Ohent and her husband were lovers, but she’s the jealous type, and best not to take chances.
Ohent handed the tube to Ranpeti, who unscrolled the document and started skimming. Teg glanced over at Uten Kekui. The bison head didn’t have the expressive ears of many of the others, but from how his nostrils flared, he was annoyed.
I bet they didn’t tell him about their queries, Teg thought, but I’d bet anything that they told Sapphire Wind.
Ranpeti glanced at Grunwold. “The first bit is medical stuff, for Nefnet. You can read it later, but the short version is that Konnel is walking again, and he hopes that he’ll be able to stop using a cane soon.”
Grunwold’s ears melted flat in relief, but he only said gruffly, “Good. If the old man gets well, that’ll keep me outta the brickworks. What does he say about the Library?”
“Apparently, Dmen Qeres left the Library in the care of a trust. More details on that will be coming. Anyhow, when the Library was destroyed, the trustees were in a bind. They had taken out insurance...”
“As they should have,” Uten Kekui muttered.
“...but the level of destruction was so unprecedented...”
Ohent actually looks a little proud of that, Teg thought, bemused. Well, I guess if you’re going to be part of creating a disaster, it shouldn’t be trivial—and she already knows that, thanks to Sapphire Wind’s intervention, the death toll was minimal.
“...that, although the insurance paid out, the entire area was deemed an attractive nuisance and, therefore, uninsurable. This didn’t release the insurance company from paying out, mind you. In fact, Konnel says that there’s still a reserve for any who can prove themselves survivors of the incident.”
Everyone looked at Nefnet.
“I have considered contacting the insurance company,” she said, “but I thought I might wait until other of the Archived, even a few, could join me. Ohent said a deposition from those of you who relocated the Library and could testify as to the situation would be useful.”
“Count us in,” Vereez said. “Anything else, Aunt Ranpeti?”
“The next part is complicated,” Ranpeti admitted. “I don’t quite get the legalities, but they should be spelled out in the longer document Konnel has promised. However, the basics are that the insurance paying out didn’t change the fact that the trustees were still responsible for what was now a dangerous and uninsurable area. In return for being indemnified against suits postdating the catastrophe itself, the trustees disbanded the trust on the grounds that the Library and related facilities no longer existed.”
“So, who owns it now?” Peg asked again. She was doing something complicated with her knitting involving a crochet hook. Until Teg had met her, she hadn’t realized the two skills overlapped.
“Konnel is still researching that,” Ranpeti said, “but not the House of Fortune. I’d bet my ears on that.” She wiggled her little sea lion ears for emphasis. “Even at her meanest, Inehem wouldn’t take on that level of liability.”
“And even if she felt mean enough to risk it, Zarrq wouldn’t let her,” Ohent added firmly. “He was always very protective of her.”
“I agree,” Vereez said stiffly. “My parents aren’t stupid. Between liability and the curse, if the House of Fortune decides to get involved, it will be at several removes.”
“I wonder,” Meg spoke dreamily, clearly thinking aloud, “if there is anything like squatters’ rights in the legal code here. Or could we file to homestead the area? There would still be the liability issue, but it would give us a semilegal status.”
“What’s the difference?” Grunwold asked, looking up from reading Konnel’s letter, which Ranpeti had handed him as soon as she was done giving her report.
“In our homeland, at least,” Meg said, “a squatter claims the right to a property owned by someone else by living on it and maintaining the property as much as possible.”
“Hmm...If that’s the case,” Nefnet said, speaking a little too brightly, and glancing at Uten Kekui from the corners of her eyes, “then Sapphire Wind might well qualify.”
Meg made a seesaw gesture with one hand. “In our country, things like paying property taxes apply, but it’s possible that wouldn’t be an issue here. Homesteading is similar to squatting, but it’s more or less official. Land that belongs to a public body, a state, or a national government is ‘bought’ by virtue of the homesteaders living on it for a predetermined period of time and improving it in some fashion. That last might be our best chance.”
“I’ll ask Dad to look into all of this,” Grunwold said, pulling out the journal in which he more usually drafted poetry. “Thanks to Peg going fierce, we all walked away with some money in our settlement with Inehem and Zarrq. I’d absolutely invest some if that secures ownership of the Library for our group.”
“Me, too!” Vereez said.
Looking at how the young woman’s eyes glittered darkly, Teg thought, She wants to secure the Library for us. That’s true enough, but Inehem isn’t the only member of her family with a mean streak. Vereez likes the idea of using the hush money we screwed out of her parents against them.