The Scrolls of the Ancients

CHAPTER

Twenty-three

"Y ou did what to my herb cubiculum?" Faegan shouted. Shailiha had never seen him so angry. As if the loss of Tree Town and so many of the gnomes he loved hadn't been enough, now he had just learned that his cubiculum had been partially destroyed. His face was bright red, and his gray-green eyes were practically bulging out, a rare sight indeed. The Paragon swung from its gold chain around his neck, refracting its bloodred light about the room.

Lionel the Little sat at the table, his little body trembling. His broken spectacles hung off the end of his nose; the singed tuft of hair was bathed in sweat and stuck flat to his forehead. He suddenly wished he had never, ever, heard of herbs.

"But the explosion was a small one, Master," he countered lamely. "Not as large or destructive as the two others, and I-"

"There have been others?" Faegan exploded. He slammed both his hands down on the armrests of his chair on wheels.

Shailiha, Celeste, and Lionel had returned on schedule, after hiding the bags of herbs and the vat of oils, and cleaning up the laboratory, as best they could. They had spent one night in Shadowood, during which time there had been no sign of any other demonslavers. When they finally exited Faegan's portal, they found Wigg, Abbey, and Faegan waiting anxiously for them.

Seeing that the women's jerkins were bloodied and that they had none of the herbs or oils Abbey had requested, the wizards had demanded an explanation. But first Shailiha anxiously inquired about Tristan, only to learn that there was still no word. After hearing what Shailiha and Celeste had to say, the wizards then ordered everyone to the Hall of Blood Records to discuss the situation further.

At the table sat Wigg, Faegan, Abbey, Shailiha, Celeste, and Lionel. Shailiha had requested that Morganna be brought to her, and she now held her baby happily in her sling. Atop a pedestal in one corner of the room sat the Tome of the Paragon.

With a great sigh Faegan leaned forward, placing his hands flat upon the table. He looked directly at Shailiha. As he did, she could feel his immense power.

"Do you mean to tell me that every remaining bit of dried herb and refined oil left in my cubiculum has been contaminated?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered sadly as she rocked her child. "We arrived in time to save most of the gnomes from death, and some of Tree Town from fire. But not in time to keep the slavers from stealing what they needed and mixing together the remaining herbs and oils. Had we not arrived when we did, there would most probably be nothing left to use at all. I'm sorry we didn't do more."

"Don't be sorry," Wigg said compassionately from the other side of the table. "If it hadn't been for the two of you, we would have lost everything. We're very proud of what you have done." Smiling at them both, he placed an affectionate hand over his daughter's.

"Yes, they are indeed to be commended," Abbey added. "And thank the Afterlife for Celeste's Forestallment. But do any of you fully understand how much more difficult our task has just become?" The herbmistress was clearly frustrated. Sighing angrily, she ran a hand back through her gray-streaked dark hair.

"What was once considered arduous has now become virtually impossible," she continued. "And we are still no closer to finding Tristan, Wulfgar, or these scrolls you speak of. Not to mention discerning what Krassus' eventual goals in all of this might be."

Celeste looked over at Faegan. "If only a small bit of one herb blew up the laboratory, then why is it that all of Tree Town didn't go up when the demonslavers were burning the herbs by the bagful?" she asked.

Faegan scowled. "I can only assume that is because they were so well mixed. I have never experimented with mixing all of my herbs together, because I feared what might happen." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"So now we know," he said in a soft voice. "Still, this was a terrible way to have to find out."

Shailiha looked to Wigg. "There is absolutely no word of my brother?" she asked. "None of the Minion search parties have turned up anything?"

The lead wizard shook his head. "I am sorry," he answered sadly. "But they continue to search, and they won't give up. Several days ago we sent Geldon and Traax to Parthalon, to activate the Minion fleet. They have been on patrol since, plowing the Sea of Whispers in an attempt to intercept Krassus' supposed fleet and recover the Chosen One. We have yet to hear from them."

Shailiha and Celeste looked wide-eyed at the two old wizards. "So you sent the fleet out anyway?" Celeste asked incredulously. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because you weren't needed, and there wasn't time for us to endure yet another of your blatant pleadings to go along with them," Wigg said, trying to keep his tone light. "You are both very strong, valuable allies, and we thought your considerable talents might be better used for other things. As it turned out, we were right."

Shailiha glared at the wizards as she tried her best to be angry with them. But in the end, she couldn't. She and Celeste had been so sure they had manipulated them, but in truth it had been the other way around. She was once again reminded that there was always more to dealing with Wigg and Faegan than first met the eye.

"So what do we do now?" she asked the table in general. Morganna cooed, and the princess gave her a little hug.

"Abbey and Lionel shall eventually go back to Shadowood to try to unravel the riddle of the herbs and the oils," Faegan answered. "The bulk of the Minion forces will remain here. After all, we cannot be sure that Krassus and his demonslavers aren't still in Eutracia. We must make sure the castle and the Redoubt are well protected." He paused.

"There is something else I wish to tell you all," he added after a moment, "and this must come first, before anyone returns to Shadowood. I have been doing research into the Tome, to see if I might come up with something more to help us with these problems of the herbs and oils. And after hearing your story, I am most glad that I did."

Raising one arm, he commanded the Tome to come to him. It rose into the air and floated across the room to come to rest on the table. Narrowing his eyes, he employed the craft to open it to a particular section of the text. Then he looked back up at the lead wizard.

"Tell me," he asked Wigg, "have you ever heard of the Chambers of Penitence?"

"No," Wigg answered skeptically. "What are you talking about?"

"At first I did not remember the phrase either," Faegan replied. "But when I used my gift of Consummate Recollection to scan the Tome for the words 'herbs' and 'oils,' a strange thing happened. I also kept seeing the words 'Chambers of Penitence' in my mind. Not just once, mind you, but over and over again, until they started to crowd everything else out. It was as if the Tome was desperately trying to tell me something. Heretofore the text had only been a silent, static entity. But now it was as if it had suddenly come alive, just as the Paragon has its own otherworldly form of existence. It was astounding. So I decided to actually read the pages, rather than simply rely on my memory. And when I did, further references to these chambers kept popping up, taking me to other related pages in the text. And after crisscrossing back and forth in the text this way, I was finally led here, to a specific volume of the Vigors. By itself, the passage would be confusing. But now, after having been led here from its many sources, the meaning is becoming more clear."

"And just what does the passage say?" Wigg asked.

Faegan looked down at the page. " '… And there shall be discovered many Chambers of Penitence, which shall both help to guide their way in the craft, and also ensure the existence of the Vigors. Each chamber shall be different in its secrets than the last, but each shall reveal aspects of the craft so complex that they must be hidden within the earth. But be forewarned, for the psychic price of such knowledge shall be dear, perhaps even mortal.' "

Faegan looked up from the great book. "Do you see?" he asked excitedly.

Wigg leaned forward, intensely interested.

"Let me show you," Faegan went on. Narrowing his eyes again, he commanded more of the pages to turn to another part of the text. Running his finger down the page, he finally found what he was looking for.

" 'If it be of the herbs and oils of the craft that one seeks guidance, it shall be found in one of the Chambers of Penitence. Within the chamber they shall find the Floating Gardens of the Craft, eternally guarded by the watchwoman of the waters. But the cost of such knowledge shall be dear indeed, and it should be searched out only in times of great distress, for the risk is great. At the base of the Woman of Stone, one shall begin to find the answers. But only with the help of the Paragon, for it alone shall light the way.' "

"The Woman of Stone?" Celeste asked. "What is that?"

"The Woman of Stone is a rock formation on the coast, not too far from here," Wigg answered, rubbing his chin. "Over time, the waves have carved the profile of a woman into the rock wall overlooking the Sea of Whispers. It has supposedly existed for eons. Long enough, it would now appear, for the Ones Who Came Before to know of it as well, and use her as a landmark by which to leave one of these so-called Chambers of Penitence." Pausing for a moment, he looked back over to Faegan.

"But what of these floating gardens?" he asked. "And who is this watchwoman who is supposedly eternally guarding them? And what does the Tome mean by the 'psychic price to be paid'?"

"We won't know until we go there, will we?" Faegan cackled. His expression and posture reminded Wigg that nothing so entranced his old friend as an unexplained secret of the craft, especially if he was the only one to possess the answer.

"I think we should depart first thing in the morning," Faegan added.

Wigg looked over to Abbey to see a hint of disappointment in her eyes. It seemed they would be separated again, after all. Then he looked back at Faegan and sighed.

He hoped the master wizard was right.