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A thin sheen of cold sweat coated Oskar’s brow by the time he reached the archives. The closer the moment came, the more certain he grew that this would not work. He was a novit. He was not allowed inside.
When the archives’ arched entryway came into sight, he stopped and leaned against the wall to catch his breath.
“Why am I doing this?” he whispered. “Aspin can search the archives when he returns. He doesn’t need my help.” This, of course, was not entirely true. Aspin had told him that he did, in fact, need Oskar’s help.
He thought of all the times he’d hidden in Lord Hiram’s warehouse, poring over one of the few books in Galsbur. Back then, he would have given anything to be here in this great center of learning, soaking up all the knowledge the masters had to offer without fear of getting chucked out for sneaking into the archives. It wasn’t fair. Did he truly owe Aspin so much?
And then a face came unbidden to his mind. Shanis. He remembered their childhood and the affection he’d always had for her. He thought of her sincere desire to bring peace to Lothan, a sentiment he’d never thought the hot-tempered girl could possess. She was his lifelong friend and one of the people who mattered to him most. If a new Frostmarch approached, and the evidence suggested that it did, she would need help.
“You aren’t just doing this for Aspin,” he whispered. “You’re doing it for her.” Emboldened by this conviction, he strode into the archives.
The young man at the desk didn’t bother to look up from the book he was reading.
“Name?” he drawled.
“Oskar Clehn.”
Now, the young man did look up. His forehead crinkled as he looked Oskar up and down, and then consulted a scroll.
“You are not on the list. Are you an initiate?”
“No. I mean, I have a note.” He thrust the doctored sheet of parchment into the young man’s hands.
“I have never heard of a novit being granted access to the archives.” He ran his finger across the words as if he could detect a forgery.
“I’m brand new and woefully behind. Master Sibson believes that, with enough extra effort, I can catch up, but I have some holes in my knowledge that are making it difficult for me to keep pace with the rest of the class.” He’d rehearsed this line and hoped he didn’t sound as wooden as he feared.
“I really should consult with the keeper about this.”
“Feel free, if it will hurry things along,” Oskar bluffed. “All I know is Master Sibson expects me to be caught up on several historical periods by next class, which is only two days away. He’s in quite a temper about it.”
“So this is only temporary?”
“Yes. Just until I can catch up.” Oskar’s heart skipped a beat. Might he actually pull it off?
“Which the master expects you to accomplish in two days.” The young man rolled up Oskar’s note and tapped it on the table, considering. “Very well. Being a novit, you won’t know your way around. What periods of history are you studying?”
“The Godwars, and...” his mouth had gone dry. “The Silver Serpent.”
“I beg your pardon? If you’re studying the Godwars, you won’t need to know anything about the Silver Serpent for some time yet. That doesn’t come up until much later. Besides, there’s not a section devoted to it. You’d have to scour texts from various periods in order to find a mere mention of it.”
“Sorry. I thought it was a weapon used in the Godwars,” Oskar improvised. “At least, that’s the way the story was told in my village.”
“You’re thinking of the Frostmarch. Stick with your lessons and you’ll get to that soon enough.” The young man told him where he could find information on the Godwars, reminded him that the archives closed at the evening bell and returned to his book.
“May I have my note back?” Oskar reached out to take back the piece of parchment, but the young man slid it away.
“Sorry, all notes are turned over to Keeper Corwine for his records. I’ll be working the desk for the next several days and I’ll remember you so you won’t need the note.”
Panic welled up inside Oskar. When Corwine saw the note he would immediately know that something was amiss, and it would take only a word with Sibson to learn the truth. What an idiot he’d been! Sneaking into the archives was bad enough, but he’d forged a note from one of the masters. This could get him and his two friends chucked out. He had to get that note back!
“All right, then. Thank you.” As he walked slowly away, he watched from the corner of his eye as the young man placed the note in a basket behind the table. Perhaps Oskar could manage to get hold of it on his way out.
Unable to do anything about it at the moment, he figured he might as well take advantage of the fact he was actually inside the archives! All his life, he’d heard tales of the wondrous library at Karkwall in Lothan. Having seen it during his travels, he now knew that it paled in comparison to this place. There looked to be as many books and scrolls on this floor alone than in Karkwall’s entire collection. His eyes roamed over the shelves and he felt something like hunger stir inside him.
He took a moment to look around. In the center of the room, robed men sat at a long table, poring over thick tomes. Every one of them used a floating ball of light to illuminate the area around him. Good thing he’d already mastered that trick. He realized there were no lights in the archives, save the glow from the saikurs’ and initiates’ spell light. He supposed an open flame inside a tower filled with old paper would be a bad idea.
The Godwars books were shelved in the collection on the third floor, and he used his glowing light to make his way there. This floor was arranged the same as the first floor, with rows of shelves in concentric circles and a long table in the center. A lone saikur sat there, reading, and did not look up when Oskar entered, which was fine with him. Hoping he didn’t encounter anyone who would know he didn’t belong, he began his search.
Time seemed to lose all meaning in this dark, silent place. He had no idea how the shelves were organized, and few books had printing on the spine, so he ended up wandering through the stacks, opening books at random and flipping through. The snatches of text he read covered a variety of topics, all of which he would have loved to explore, but he knew time was short.
He found nothing about the Silver Serpent, but finally located the books covering the First Godwar. Figuring he should at least complete the task Master Sibson had set him to, he found the book, Godwars, and stood in a corner out of sight and read until evening bell.
He assumed he would have to sign the book out, and hoped that when he did, he might find a way to distract the young man at the table long enough to retrieve his note, but when he reached the first floor, his stopped short. Keeper Corwine now stood behind the table, helping his assistant, who was furiously signing out books for a long line of saikurs. That tore it. Oskar was not about to let the keeper see his face. Dousing his light, he retreated to the stairs and stuffed Godwars inside his robe. What was one more violation in light of what he’d already done today? He waited until a group of initiates passed close by him. They paid him no mind when he fell in beside them. Trying not to look guilty, he walked out the door.
It was not until he reached his room and stowed the book in his trunk that he was able to breath normally again, but that relief was short-lived. There was still the matter of his note. What was he going to do?