Master, I was looking through the book collection left here by the previous occupant, and I realized, after staring at the bloody thing for the past year, that it was indeed a book collection. Here, in this place… books,” said James, pacing in front of Luno’s wall-size map.
“Ah, yes. Mrs. Ammoncourt’s famous and mysterious book collection. Just like her famous and mysterious arms collection, she never would reveal where she had gotten them, and nobody seemed interested enough to press her for an honest answer. We were just happy to have them, especially the blades,” Luno said, nodding to the dagger James carried in his belt.
“Once, after quite a bit of mirkroot juice, she told old Joseph Archer she’d found them in the hull of a marooned ship on the eastern side of the peninsula. Joe decided to go looking for this ship and he was never seen again. Some people think he found the ship at low tide and somehow trapped himself inside and drowned.”
“And what do you think, Master?”
“I believe every mystery on this island, including Mrs. Ammoncourt’s famous book collection and the disappearance of Joseph Archer, are all interconnected.”
“How old was Mrs. Ammoncourt?” asked James.
“No more than thirty, I’d say. Pretty little thing. Arrived no more than ten years ago.”
James was sure there was a connection between this Mrs. Ammoncourt and the Mr. Ammoncourt who had been his teacher and mentor back home, however he decided now was not the right time to share this information with Luno.
“Have you ever gone looking for this ship?”
“Of course. I’ve scoured the eastern side of the peninsula for days and found nothing. But I’ve long since learned that just because The Never doesn’t reveal something to you doesn’t mean it isn’t there. “
“Do you know what happened to Mrs. Ammoncourt?”
“I wish I could say. It is as frustratingly mysterious as her book collection and the disappearance of Joseph Archer. One day she simply vanished. She was reclusive by nature, so it was several days before anyone in town took notice and decided to search her premises.”
“Have you ever looked at her books?”
“Of course. Over the years she has lent me every book in her collection. Some more than once.”
“And did you happen to notice anything… strange?”
“You’ve discovered the dates?”
“Let me guess, mystery of the island?”
“I’ve found it increasingly easy to attribute all the unexplained goings-on here to yet another quandary of this illogical reality, but I do believe I have an explanation of reasonable substantiation for this one. The printing press simply set the wrong number so instead of 1802 it reads 1902. If you look at the series, all the books were stamped by the publisher on the second page. It appears as though they were stamped on the same set because all of the I s in Mythic Press have elongated dots on them. These aren’t found anywhere else inside any of the manuscripts, which leads me to believe it was an error of the human sort. Although, I have been known to be wrong in my assumptions.”
“What about the map?” James asked.
“Map?” Luno’s eyes perked up at the word.
“What map?”
Now standing in the study of the flat where Mrs. Ammoncourt formerly resided, James opened the hatch in the floor. A set of extremely narrow stairs wound downward into the dark. James moved toward the stairs but before he could take a second step, Luno held out his hand in objection.
“Allow me,” he said, stepping in front of James, a strange and excited look in his eyes. Luno picked up the lantern sitting beside the hatch and moved down the stairs.
“A wise man once told me that man’s greatest weakness and greatest strength lie within his emotions. Losing control and gaining control can yield both great and terrible results. In the end it is he who is truly powerful who knows the consequences of each and holds onto or lets go in order to yield what he desires.”
“Does this wise man have a name?”
“Akil Karanis.”
The pair had reached the bottom of the stairs. The room in which they stood was small, and the floors, ceiling, and walls were adorned by wooden planks. One wall had a small glass porthole, which Luno was gazing out.
“To this day the magic required to create this room beneath the water eludes me.”
“It appears that Mrs. Ammoncourt was no average resident,” James said, running his hand along the wall. “Not a drop of moisture.”
“Where she came from is as mysterious as where she has gone, I’m afraid. Now, show me this map.”
James wanted to mention that a man named Mr. Ammoncourt had mentored him, but something held him back. On the opposite wall of the porthole stood three bookcases. Each shelf was filled from end to end with books of varying size, thickness, and color. James reached up to the top of the center case, ran his hands along the ornate inscriptions carved into the face of the top shelf, and looked at Luno.
“You may want to step back.”
James pulled the top of the bookcase away from the wall, and it crashed to the floor, sending up a plume of dust. Quickly, James lifted the case, returning it to its proper location leaving a pile of books on the floor.
“What the bloody hell are you doing, boy?” Luno shouted.
“Look quickly or you’ll miss it,” James said pointing to the now exposed back of the case. Luno stepped closer and brightened his lantern with a twist of the knob. Dark lines began to appear between the center shelves. After a moment it became clear they were looking at a map.
“Do you recognize it?” James asked.
“Not off hand. I’ll need more time to study it. Can we bring the bookcase upst-”
The books lifted themselves off the ground and returned to their former locations, hiding the map. James grinned at Luno’s exasperated expression.
“Quite clever,” James said.
“Quite.”
“Damn thing is too big to get upstairs. Not that moving it is even an option. I’ve tried every possible way to budge it and only have been able to knock it forward.”
“How did you even discover the map?”
“Strange, really. I had just finished one of the volumes and set it on my night table. The next morning it was gone. At first I thought someone had stolen it until I found it back on the bookshelf in the exact spot from which I had taken it. Thinking perhaps I had sleepwalked or been in a partial daze when I returned it, I thought nothing more of it. I picked another volume from the shelf and read it over the course of several days. Again I set it on my night table after completing it, and again the next morning I found it returned to its former location. Perplexed, I decided to take two books from the shelf and read them simultaneously just to see what would happen. As I made for the stairs one of the books flew from my hands and onto the shelf. I pulled it off the shelf again and stepped toward the stairs once more and once more the book returned itself to the shelf. Perplexed, I took three books. This time two of the three leapt from my grasp and back on the shelf. While experimenting with the number and duration the books were off the shelf, I noticed writing appeared in a space where I had removed the books. By the time I was able to make out anything, the books had always returned to their former locations. Out of frustration I dumped the bookcase.”
“So it was exactly your inability to manage your emotions that led to this discovery. Ironic,” Luno said with a chuckle.