Lord of the Libraries Read Free Page A

are ye two doin’ here?” Varrowyn made his voice gruff. “An’ ye’ll not be talkin’ loud, ye won’t.”
    The tallest one, though only by two inches, struggled to answer and finally got it out. “We-we-we had to c-c-come.”
    “Ye had to.” Varrowyn pulled irritably at his beard. “If’n I asked yer ma, would she say ye had to come here tonight?”
    “No, Varrowyn,” the dweller replied. He was dark haired and fair, with the leanness of youth on him that a life of largesse hadn’t yet blunted. “My ma would have my da to thrash me good.”
    “Well, out here in the dark, what with goblins in them waters, ye deserve a thrashin’, ye do. If yer ma was to find yer beds empty, she’d be worried sick, she would.” Varrowyn had such a mother still yet to this day.
    “I know,” the dweller lad said. “But we knew the goblinkin were coming and that you were going to fight them.”
    “How did ye come to know that?”
    “Our d-d-da owns the Sea Breeze T-t-tavern. Rutak and I d-d-do kitchen chores there sometimes. My n-n-name is Dockett Butterblender. We w-w-were there when you came c-c-calling for warriors tonight.” The young dweller looked glum. “When we get b-b-back, I expect our d-d-da to w-w-whip us anyway.”
    “An’ still ye came.” Varrowyn shook his head. That wasn’t ordinary behavior for dwellers. They never risked unless there was something to be gained and they felt certain about the outcome.
    “Hopin’ to see some blood spilt,” one of the dwarves said. His white grin split the night. “That’s not such a bad thing, Varrowyn.”
    “W-w-wasn’t to come s-s-see blood spilled,” Dockett Butterblender said. “I c-c-came to do the t-t-task Grandmagister Lamplighter wanted us to do. We h-h-heard about the t-t-talk he gave at the town m-m-meeting before the goblinkin attacked.” He shook his head. “Until t-t-the attack, I’d never seen b-b-battle.”
    Most of you hadn’t, Varrowyn thought. He felt bad that children had
been forced to bear witness to such atrocities. Not only that, but many of them had been victims of the flaming catapult loads of pitchblende and rock that goblinkin ships had hurled into the city from the harbor. None of the dwellers living on the island had ever been exposed to war.
    For hundreds of years, Greydawn Moors had gone long forgotten and never again found. Sailors plied the sea for trade with the mainland, and all the crews were sworn to secrecy about the existence of the Vault of All Known Knowledge and the Librarians that kept all the books in the world. All of them kept that secret because they had family on the island who would be exposed to the untender mercies of the vengeful goblinkin.
    The oars creaked out on the sea, sounding closer now.
    “Ye lads shouldn’t be here,” Varrowyn said. “Hurry on now an’ get back to bed. A beatin’ from yer pap, why it’d be safer than stayin’ here.”
    “I can’t,” Dockett said. He held up the book he carried. “I learned to read and write from Grandmagister Lamplighter and First Librarian Juhg. They are the only two dwellers I know that have been off this island. I read accounts they wrote of their travels and adventures.”
    “Lad,” Varrowyn said, “I ain’t got the time nor the patience to be dealin’ with ye. Now ye just get on—”
    “No.” The young dweller’s answer was bold and strong. (Except for when his voice cracked in the middle.) But he folded his arms stubbornly like he hadn’t noticed. “My place is here. I’m staying.”
    “It ain’t yer pap ye’d best be afraid of,” Varrowyn promised. “I bet my hand’s a lot more callused than yer pap’s, an’ I’ll last longer at whelpin’ ye than he will, I wager.”
    “My place is here,” the young dweller pleaded. He held forth the book again. “Grandmagister Lamplighter said one of a Librarian’s greatest responsibilities is to write about things he learns and sees. First Level Librarian Juhg always maintained that