The Book Without Words Part 14

"Then this is a fools' school," said Damian, tossing aside the tool he had been holding. "All this sitting about. We know what the stones can do. Which means we can have your master's magic by simply swallowing them. You can have the one for Time. I'll take Magic. What are we waiting for?"

"They are not ours for the swallowing," said Sybil.

"Surely they are no longer your master's," said Damian. "He's dead. Buried. Twice. That's enough for most men."

"You must be patient," said Sybil.

"Patient!" cried Damian. "If I stay another day in this place, I shall go daft. No, I'll stay until morning. No more. Then-I don't care what you say-I intend to leave. For now I prefer to sleep. It will pa.s.s the time quickly." He got up and lumbered back toward the back room.

Odo looked around. "Irritating boy," he muttered.

Alfric yawned and put the book on the table. "Please, Mistress, may I go to sleep too?"

"Of course," said Sybil.

Alfric brought the book to Sybil. As she took it, he whispered, "Follow me," and headed down the hall toward the back room. Sybil set the book on the table, glanced out the window, and then went down the hall.

Alfric was waiting for her halfway down the hall.

"What is it?" Sybil asked.

"In the book," Alfric whispered, "there is is something about gold." something about gold."

Sybil put a finger to her lips. "Don't speak of it yet."

"Why?"

"I don't wish to be tempted. Now, just go to sleep."

"Yes, Mistress." The boy looked up at Sybil, unexpectedly hugged her, and then went into the back room.

Sybil returned to the main room. "Odo," she said, "he's out there."

"Who?" said the bird. "Bashcroft?"

"The man from whom Master stole the book: Brother Wilfrid. I'm sure he's come to speak to me. You agreed you'd listen to him. Will you come with me?"

"And the boys?"

"They're sleeping. Master is buried. All is safe."

"I want to be sure they are sleeping," said Odo. He hopped to the back room. "They're fine," he said when he returned. "But I beg you, for safety's sake, don't take the stones. And promise me we'll go no farther than the courtyard."

"Agreed," said Sybil. "The stones can stay in the chest." She went toward the steps, holding her elbow out. Odo jumped upon it, and when he clawed his way to her shoulder, the two went down to the door.

Sybil lifted the crossbar from the door. As she began to put it down it slipped from her hand and fell with a bang.

"Clumsy girl," muttered Odo.

"Sorry," murmured Sybil. She pulled the door open and looked out. Moonlight cast a glow over the courtyard, bringing a silver sheen to the smallest of puddles. Overhead clouds drifted. The air was calm, if chilly. "Remember," repeated Odo. "Only for a short time."

Sybil nodded and the two stepped away from the house.

11.

In the back room, a sleeping Damian heard the sound of the falling crossbeam. He sat up in alarm. Alfric did not stir.

"Girl!" called Damian. "Bird! What was that?" Getting no response, he went into the front room, only to find it deserted.

"Deceivers," the boy muttered. "I suppose they are at those chests below." He took up a candle and crept down the steps. He saw that the trapdoor was open, but when he peered below he saw no one. The chests remained closed, locked. Puzzled, Damian looked about and discovered the door's crossbeam on the ground. "Churls. They've gone somewhere without telling me."

Suddenly his face brightened. "The stones," he said aloud, and started back up the steps.

12.

Sybil, with Odo on her shoulder, walked to the gallows, paused, and looked up. The noose dangled from the crossbeam like an open hand-as if ready to s.n.a.t.c.h her. It made her feel queasy.

Odo glanced up too. "We are surrounded by death," he said.

Sybil put her arms around herself to keep warm. But even as they stood there, Brother Wilfred, small, stooped, and limping, appeared. While an agitated Odo s.h.i.+fted about on her shoulder, Sybil acknowledged him with a nod.

"Ah," said the monk, his voice faint. "The raven, too."

"Do you object?" snapped Odo.

"A raven's feather is a necessary ingredient to the making of the stones," said Wilfrid. "Just as he took the girl's life by taking her breath, he took some of your being with your feather."

"I can spare a feather."

"Alas, bird," said Wilfred. "By so doing, he has taken far more than your feather. It is your life he's stolen, too."

Odo opened his beak but said nothing.

"Did you bring the stones?" Wilfrid asked Sybil.

Sybil shook her head. "We need some proof of what you say."

"Proof? That Thorston stole the Book Without Words from me?" That Thorston stole the Book Without Words from me?"

"You could be lying," said Odo.

Wilfrid stood motionless, as if lost in thought. The few strands of his hair on his head stirred in the calm air. His pale unblinking green eyes seemed to be gazing at nothing. "Very well," he said. Follow me." He turned and began to walk away.

"Wait," croaked Odo. "Where are you taking us?"

Wilfrid paused. "You asked for proof that I speak the truth. I intend to provide it."

Odo said, "How long will it take?"

"Not as long as I have been following Thorston."

"Sybil ..." Odo warned.

"Go back to the house if you want," she said. "I'm going with him."

Odo remained.

Wilfrid, not looking back, walked up through the lane. Sybil came a few paces behind. Odo-now and again fluttering his wings-remained on her shoulder, hunched, black eyes glaring.

Though Sybil thought she knew the town well, she was soon confused as to where they were going. But though the monk said nothing, she plodded on, walking through the gloomy, constricted streets and alleys, over mud and stone, by heaps of dung and other filth. The only sound was what she made herself, feet squis.h.i.+ng through mud. Occasionally Odo flapped his wings, but otherwise remained still.

The monk halted. "We are here," he said. They had come to the back of a church and were facing a neglected cemetery surrounded by a low wall of stacked slate. The graveyard was populated by crosses and stones, only a few of which stood erect.

"This is where Thorston should be," said the monk. "But your proof is in the church."

They went inside. It was deserted. A solitary light flickered in the old altar.

Brother Wilfrid went to the eastern wall and knelt before the large image that was there. Sybil, with Odo on her shoulder, stood behind him.

"Saint Elfleda," whispered the monk, his hands clasped. "I beg you; speak the truth about the Book Without Words."

In the stillness of the church, the only sound Sybil heard was her own heartbeat. But as she gazed at the image, the saint's eyes seemed to s.h.i.+ft until they looked directly at her. Then the saint's arm, the one held in blessing, began to move. It reached out to her, palm up. "Bring the book back to me," Sybil heard a voice, soft, and as if from a great distance, say. "Its magic is evil. Since it cannot be destroyed, it must be hidden."

"What's so evil about it?" cried Odo.

"It gives what is desired, but the desire consumes the taker."

"My desire is to fix my wings," said Odo. "I need gold for that."

Saint Elfleda held up Saint Cuthbert's belt. "Bring me the book and I shall make thee what thou were."

That said, the saint's dark eyes s.h.i.+fted. The arm went back in its position of blessing. She became still again.

"Will you believe me now?" said Brother Wilfrid.

13.

Sybil and Odo headed back to Clutterbuck Lane. At first they followed the monk, but at some point-Sybil was not sure when-he left them.

"We must give the monk the book and stones," she said, breaking her silence.

"And the gold-making secrets?" said the bird.

"Oh, Odo, wouldn't you rather live? Besides, the saint said she would fix you."

"Actually, she said she'd make me what I was."

"Isn't that what you want?"

"I don't like it," said Odo, "that all this living and dying is so mixed up. It should be one or the other."

"It doesn't seem to be," said the girl.

The raven remained still for a while. Then he said, "He didn't say we had to return all all the stones. Perhaps if I took the Magic one, I could gain the secret of gold-making." the stones. Perhaps if I took the Magic one, I could gain the secret of gold-making."

"That's what Damian said. Odo," said Sybil, "I want to live. And to do that we must return the book and stones."

Odo only shook his head. "And the gold?"

"Odo, there isn't any."

"The chests," said Odo.

"We have no keys."

"I still want to look," said Odo.

"When we return home," said Sybil, "I'm going to fetch the book and the stones and bring them to Brother Wilfrid."

"And then?"

"I don't know."

"You never cared about living before. What has changed?"

"I have learned something."

"What?"

"Master may wish to never die, but I have yet to live."