There was some commotion outside. The ringing of chainmail and the combined sound of hooves and snarling coming into the clearing.
"Root's word, who would bring their mounts into the library's inner sanctum?" asked Brian turning toward the cave entrance.
Yestra thought he had some idea.
Sure enough, when the two men emerged from the library, there sat the regal Mayor of the Firewise precinct atop his white horse and surrounded by his general entourage of subordinates. Yestra had done a good job avoiding him thus far, but even the mushrooms couldn't foretell when or where the Mayor of Hammington would turn up. Yestra was quite convinced that it was because the company he kept were also related to toadstools.
Hamming wore one of those companions around his neck like a scarf. It was an emerald boa constrictor that made people nervous. Mostly because whenever you had a word with the mayor, the snake was always seen flicking that tongue of his somewhere close to the mayor's ear. It always felt as if your every word were judged twice upon arrival. But that wasn't the only thing that rubbed most people wrong. It was the sheer vanity of the man.
It was obvious that the mayor magicked his beauty mark on each morning anew, as it always seemed to change places, and even complete sides of the face on occasion. It was so unsightly that you had to do your best not to stare at the thing. This was difficult as there wasn't a whole lot more real estate left on his gob after that thing had found a place to settle. And then of course, there was the curfews and the taxes. There's always taxes when someone like that is involved in a story.
One of the two goblins slid from the saddle of its mongrel and teetered, bow-legged, up to Yestra and Brian. It was holding a crooked stick that made its nose a bit more acceptable and its hair stood up in a beaten and twisted triangle. Its bottom lip was permanently affixed to one side but for the most part, they both could understand the creature. "The mayor wanth newth of the freth growth."
"I'm sorry?" said Brian.
"The mayor," the goblin paused to take two deep drafts of breath through his spittle, "The mayor wanth newth of the freth growth."
"Fresh out of newts," said Brian.
"Yes, and no French Toast, either," said Yestra, catching on.
The goblin took two more huge breaths and began to cough when it accidentally inhaled the long strand of drool that had accumulated under its defunct lip.
"Yestra," called the mayor.
He watched as Hamming waved a gloved hand at another goblin absently in a motion to take care of the first.
"Have you returned from Ego's estuary with news from the Globe?"
Hamming was a younger lad, whose power had been recently inherited from his late father, whose disappearance had been the subject of much debate at the last council of the Center Sea. If his widowed mother had not declined the station of Mayor, young Hamming would still be facing another year under the thumb of Professor Moriarti who had held him back one year already.
Despite Hamming's shortcomings in Political Sorcery he excelled in Familiarity and Zoomancy. Miss Doalotta once said that Hamming had a promising future as an animal empath. Though his heart may have been with the creatures of Rootworld, the life of a professional empath looked to Hamming like one for the birds. What he'd really wanted was his chance to see the Globe. For that, you had to be respected. A seat at the council of the Center Sea would be but a tiny drop in a cup of such large ambition.
Yestrasmartis glanced briefly at the satchel hanging around his llama's neck. "Actually, Brian and I were just freshening up the library before I strung up the new edition."
"I thought we had an understanding, Yestra," said Hamming, sliding down from his mount and passing the reigns to more of an ape than a human, a recognizable member of the Kapi folk. His snake hissed into his ear as he approached, removing his gloves.
Yestra watched as Hamming's eyes flicked toward the snake in consideration. He wondered if it were giving him advice. "Umm. It is library decree that proclamations from the Ash be brought directly to the closest branch for preservation due to the leaf's poor marks on the biode-grading scale."
"What is a biode—Ooomph!" Brian rubbed his ribs and Yestra chuckled awkwardly.
Again, the emerald rope shot a tiny tongue into the Mayor's ear. "Tread lightly Yestra. Ego's estuary is under the protection of my municipality. Now, tell me. Was my prophecy correct?"
Yestra had long known that Hamming's prophecies were nothing more than parlor tricks. According to Phagos, the eldest Beech, in the waterwise municipality, there were pop-down spots in Rootworld. They were appearing in rather inconspicuous places that would transport one to the Globe. And now that he had more proof to that theory. He would have to be careful.
"Well?'
Yestra looked at Brian and then back to Hamming. He took a few pronounced steps toward the satchel. "Uh, perhaps it is best told in private."
Hamming's eyebrows raised but before he could speak Yestra shouldered the satchel and aimed a welcoming arm at the library entrance. The llama was eyeing the snake with abject suspicion.
"So," said Brian to the Kapi as Yestra and Hamming made their way toward the cave, "what's the news from the uh, jungle?" The ape man looked at him blankly, then pulled out a banana from his fanny pack, peeled it and took a bite. Chewing with an air of indignation.
"Ah," said Brian. "Interesting."
"Please close the door behind you, sir," said Yestra, inside. He heard the door close and then a low series of perilous grunting sounds from behind him.
"Hazeusaphat! Couldn't you have left the snake outdoors, Hamming?" he said as he turned then tried getting a few fingers between the boa constrictor and Hamming's neck.
Finally, Hamming managed to say, while his face regained color, "She's afraid of all the hissing! What in the Root is all the steam for anyhow? There, there girl, he meant no harm, Raziel."
Yestra eyed the snake as Hamming made a great yawn. Then he opened his satchel and removed the first leaf, keeping an eye on Hamming as he made to pin it to the line with the others. "I just finished telling Brian, it keeps the readings from drying out too quickly. Ash is especially susceptible to bio de-grading."
Now that Hamming could breath comfortably he dared a closer look. Yestra was clipping each leaf by its stem to the wire. As far as he could tell, there was nothing unusual or telling about the things. "So, what does that one say?" he ventured.
Yestra paused. Clothespin poised above the wire. His eyes moved to their corners. Without his mushrooms, the story was moot. He could however offer basic ogham. "Well, it takes many letters to form a sentence, as you well know. This leaf here says Nuagedon. You may know this in the more common tongue as Nuin."
"Ah," said Hamming. "Well, that just means Ash!"
"Precisely," said Yestra, clipping it. "The point is, it stands for a letter of the ogham alphabet. In this case, the letter N."
"Then you must have a hundred leaves in there to make a single proclamation!"
Yestra smiled and then angled his satchel toward the sheriff so he could see within. It was indeed full of fresh leaves.
"This could take an hour!"
"Have you anywhere to be?"
The door opened and Brian appeared with a tong full of glowing iron ore. He could see the Sheriffs annoyance. "Thought it could use a refreshing."
Yestra noticed the boa constrictor was getting nervous again and held up a hand to Brian. "Just give us five minutes, please."
How was he going to satisfy the Sherriff's curiosity? While what he said about the ogham was true, it wasn't the whole truth. Each leaf had a series of ogham letters scrawled in the growth pattern of its veins. A minor proclamation only took a few leaves really. This one was a major novella!
Brian nodded to Yestra, then departed only after he was given a genuine smile of confidence.
"Easy Raziel," said Hamming, stroking her head. "So, what can you tell me, Yestra. Out with it! I was right, wasn't I?"
That was it! The Sherriff had been right about the pop down spots. "You were right about one thing."
The Sherriff's eyes glittered.
"I can only assume that you were correct as there has been a meeting."
Hamming regarded him suspiciously.
Yestra pushed a row of clothes pins down the line to the current events section to make things easier and started clipping leaf after leaf. "A meeting otherwise impossible unless you are correct."
"Spare me the suspense, Yestra! Speak plainly."
Yestra sighed. "That would be out of character for a prophet, man! At least suffer my dignity."
Both the Sherriff and the snake sighed.
"Alright then, blast it all. The Pope and the Arch Druid had a meeting on Mound Meritities. There."
Raziel darted her head back in surprise. "But that would mean…" started Hamming.
"Yes. Yes."
"Then both worlds share some minor connection… are making some collaboration?"
"I can only assume. Yes. That is what is written."
Yestra avoided eye contact with the Sherriff by continuing on with his stringing.
"But how was it done?"
Yestra shrugged. Had it been five minutes yet?
"It must say more than that."
"Living writing is a complex mechanism," said Yestra. "The rest of the message was trivial. It suggested we re-organize the first edition section of the library this season, for example. In fact, I am heading down there as soon as I am done here. Would you like to join me?"
Before the Sherriff could answer, or ask any more questions, Yestra said, "It is only a few kilometers down to the aquifer from here, shouldn't take us more than the afternoon…"
Hamming's mug screwed up in a fashion that said he was working out some difficult equation. For a moment, Yestra feared that he would agree, but just then Brian came in with the ore again and made a bee line for the water trough.
"Splendid!" said Yestra. "I was beginning to worry they'd crack."
The sheriff sniffed and put a hand between Raziel's body and his neck. "Enticing invitation, but we really must go." The steam hissed and Hamming made abruptly for the door. "Oh! Yestra?" he said turning at the entrance and having a hard time keeping Raziel from strangling him.
"The forecast, sir?" Yestra always saw that one coming, mushrooms or no.
Hamming nodded uncomfortably, then smacked Raziel on the top of the head, which only produced a scornful look and a hiss.
"Uh, clear skies ahead, Sherriff."
"Very…" he gagged, then exited while trying to figure out how to untie the knot named Raziel.
"Good show, Brian!" Yestra said, as the bard leant on the tongs.
"Well, it got a bit awkward after the guard finished his banana."
"Regardless, you've saved me a great deal of explaining."
"I don't understand why he'd ask you for the forecast. Didn't he say he made predictions as well?"
"Yes," said Yestra, stringing the leaves more proficiently now that the Sherrif wasn't watching. "His predictions are largely due to his access to higher forms of information."
"Aren't those what yours are from?"
Yestra thought about this. "Well, that depends on how tall the tree has grown. And if you say anything about my height, I'll have you know that I take some shrubs both head and shoulders." He thought of the mushrooms. They grew on the ground, but he did consider his thinking of the higher variety when they were cooperating.
Brian came closer and attempted to decipher the leaves Yestra was filing.
"Do you read?"
"Of course! The order of Druids teaches all of us basic Ogham our first year as Ovvyds. The entire Pheryllt system is based upon it."
"Well, it will do you no good. Unless you can decipher Gortigern, the uh, God given names, you will only get basic letters. All of these are from the Ash. All of them are the same letter."
"I can see that much," said Brian. "Does the Sherriff know this Gortigern?"
"No. By higher forms of information, I mean that his title leaves him privy to conversations held by certain circles. And I don't mean those of stone. I am surprised he didn't already know that there had been a meeting between the Arch druid and the Pope..." Yestra shut his eyes when he heard a stifled gasp from the bard. Now he'd done it. He exhaled. "Pass me those clips would you? There are only twenty or so left here to do."
Brian slid them down the wire. "How is that possible? I mean, I've heard of magiscopes. Incredibly rare and expensive machines. Personally, I think they only brainwash children; better off letting them read, regulated or not. Others say you can see straight through to the Globe. But a two-way magiscope? That would be something, wouldn't it?"
Yestra sized up the bard. Besides leaving the library in the incapable hands of Moore, he had helped rectify the debacle. "There's much more to it than that." He clipped on the final three leaves and turned his satchel upside down. "There. All done." Then, "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" said Brian, peering down into the dark beside Yestra.
"It was nothing," said Yestra, turning for the door. "I really must be getting home. School lets out soon and I would rather arrive before the fire brigade."
"I thought you said your son was the responsible type."
"Yes, he is diligent in his duties. But when it comes to responsibility, he has been responsible for two explosions, in fact! I can't seem to dilute the boy's love for curiosity. Even after my career change from chemist to oghamologist, his desire to mix household chemicals is uncanny. I've changed the locks on the cabinets from a key to a passcode, and now to a retina scanner. It will only be a matter of time till he cracks it again."
"Do you think Moore is okay?" Brian asked pushing the door shut behind them.
"I'm sure he is moore than fine. If he turns back up, I would have him rake the interior for the rest of the afternoon. Those imbeciles have made a total mess of the rock garden. Who drives into the library grounds?"
"I will be sure to do that."
Yestra untied his Llama. "Are you subbing for the whole cycle?"
Brian counted on his fingers. "Two more days. I can't see the council going longer than that."
"Good," said Yestra. "Then perhaps you can take a trip with me down to the first editions tomorrow and help make some sense of the section?"
"Be honored!"
Yestra wheeled Kudzu about and offered a backhanded wave.
"Oh, Yestra, One more thing, Sir?"
"You'll see tomorrow, Brian. You'll see tomorrow." Again always best to bet on life in private.
Then, he was off toward home at an amble.
~
A few hours later, Brian had just finished raking the rock garden back into perfect circles around the fire pits. He had toted wood from the forest, organized the iron ore near the entrance, scrubbed the carts of soot, and placed the tools on the rack when he thought he heard the library door slam and a crunching sound. He made his way around the front of the mound and was dusting his hands off at a job well done when he noticed fresh footprints across the garden.
They were curiously the size of a young Ovydds.