The Brightworking by Paul B. Thompson

Author:Paul B. Thompson [Thompson, Paul B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4645-1076-2
Publisher: Enslow Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2013-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

A Book Opened

Mikal did as he was told and put Orry back in his cabinet. He felt bad shutting the chatty machine in a dark cupboard, but he knew Harlano would not tolerate defiance. He and Lyra finished sorting the Master’s books on time. Mikal thought they would be sent back to Nezzo’s gang, but instead Harlano set them down at a long table with pots of ink and tall piles of neatly cut parchment. He gave them each a scroll and ordered them to transcribe the scrolls onto the parchment pages. When they were done, the pages would be bound into books.

“But I cannot read, Master,” Mikal protested.

“You need not read. Just copy exactly what you see. You are both clever enough to do that.” He glanced at the label on Mikal’s scroll. “You’re better off not knowing what you write.”

Mikal studied the open pages with apparent indifference. It seemed wiser than showing his true curiosity. Were words on a page so dangerous?

Harlano left them. For days, the children labored by sunlight and by lamplight, copying magical texts. The scrolls were very old and the edges crumbling. At one point, Lyra finished copying a long section of text, and when she wound the scroll forward to expose more writing, the lower half of the ancient roll fell to pieces.

They stared in horror at the remains of the Master’s scroll, now just a scattering of flakes on the floor.

“Maybe he can fix it,” whispered Mikal.

“I can hide the pieces so he’ll never know,” Lyra countered.

He was about to point out that it would be hard to conceal anything from a wizard, but Lyra hopped off her stool and disappeared into the shelves. Sighing, Mikal returned to his work.

His scroll was in better shape than Lyra’s but it reeked of age. The material—it wasn’t parchment, which is goatskin, but something more like cloth—had so darkened over time it was often hard to make out the inked letters. The script was Old Florian, on which Caddian was based. To help him make out what he was copying, Mikal sometimes sounded out the letters aloud.

“‘Sum-mon-ing the pun-ish-ment of fi-re,’” he recited under his breath. “‘To the s-un gi-ve gree-ting and to the star-s b-ow d-ow-n fi-ve ti-me-s.’”

The text was difficult to read. His skills had improved greatly in the past fortier. He knew, for example, the scroll was by an old Florian sorcerer named Tubert, who was very skilled at calling up creatures from the magical realm. The invisible world (as it was called) existed everywhere and could be entered by wizards with special training.

Mikal paused to roll up the used part of the scroll. While he did, he noticed the shadows around him were twisting and churning strangely. Looking at the lamp, he saw the luminous creature inside was rolling about as if in great pain. Curious, he left the scroll and slowly approached the writhing lamp.

The glowing lamp grew brighter and brighter. Mikal covered his eyes with his hands. Without warning, the globe exploded.

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