THE HOUR WAS LATE AS FAEGAN PUSHED HIS CHAIR ONwheels down the Redoubt hallways. Alongside him hovered the Scroll of the Vigors, the Scroll of the Vagaries, and the Tome of the Paragon. There were few acolytes or consuls about at this hour. But those who did cross his path bowed to him reverently as they watched the fabled wizard and the three priceless documents continue on down the halls.
With the threat from Serena and Clarice gone, Faegan hoped that he would have some peaceful time to study the newly acquired Vagaries scroll. Having their indexes would be a marvelous advantage. For the sake of convenience he had decided to place all three documents under lock and key in the same place. Wigg and Shailiha had agreed. After seeing Tristan enter the azure pass, the First Wizard and Shailiha had returned by Minion litter only several hours ago. Because of their sadness, Faegan had kept his meeting with them brief.
Finding the room he wanted, Faegan stopped, as did the three documents floating alongside him. Faegan called the craft and listened as the tumblers in the lock turned over once, then twice more. He opened the door and wheeled himself into the Archives of the Redoubt. The huge library was the single greatest repository of craft books and scrolls ever collected in one place.
The Archives occupied a vast room of Ephyran marble, one of the most beautiful in the entire Redoubt. The square room measured at least two hundred meters on each of its four sides, and was seven stories tall. Each story was surrounded by a railing that overlooked the central area. Each level was lined with books from top to bottom, and a magnificent set of stairs with a brass railing ran up and around to each of the floors, granting access to the thousands of books and scrolls. Several hundred finely carved desks, reading tables, and upholstered chairs lined the main floor. Soft, golden light was supplied by a combination of oil sconces and desk lamps, all enchanted to burn continually and without smoke.
As Faegan entered the room he was pleased to see that no one else was about. With a wave of one hand he commanded the doors to close and the tumblers to lock.
Faegan thought for a moment about where to store the three precious works. He knew that no one granted access to the Archives would try to harm them, but he wanted them protected, just the same. Finally he seized on an idea.
Raising his hands, he called the craft. Almost at once the three documents rose higher into the air, then settled in a row against a bare area of the room’s far wall. With another wave of his hand, he encased them in a glowing, azure box mounted directly to the wall.
He would of course reveal the spell calculations to the other mystics on the Conclave, but to no one else. Now he could check on the documents anytime he chose, and they would still be easily accessible. Faegan found himself wondering how long it had been since the three amazing artifacts had been so near one another.
Perhaps centuries, he thought. If in fact they ever were.
Happy with his invention, he let go a little cackle as he let himself out of the room. The massive double doors closed. Had someone been inside the Archives to listen, he would have heard the tumblers in the door locks turn over once, then twice more.
Unknown to anyone, the three documents suddenly started to glow. As they brightened, selected books and scrolls on all levels of the Archives started to take on the same azure hue.
After this night of nights, the craft would never be the same.