"Knowledge is power!"
"And if you've got power, who needs brains?"
(From Orc philosophy)
We reached the Misty Palms Oasis on the fourth day with a group of eleven people. Four would remain here, while the rest, loading up with as many supplies and as much water as possible, would head out to survey the desert from the air. The library was supposed to be somewhere not too far from the town, but what exactly "not too far" meant in practice, nobody could say for certain.
The town itself already lay deep in the desert. Heat haze shimmered above the streets, and anyone unaccustomed to such conditions could easily suffer heatstroke. Fortunately, both the Fire Nation soldiers and the Kyoshi Warriors came from rather hot climates, so they handled it reasonably well. Besides, everyone here was still a trained fighter.
Still, our small but proud little group earned its fair share of shock — standing right in the middle of the town's central square was… an iceberg.
A proper chunk of ice, too. One that showed no intention whatsoever of melting beneath the blazing daytime sun, while spreading a pleasantly cool aura all around itself.
"How?" Ramis eyed the frozen water and then his canteen with deep suspicion, his expression full of doubt and growing concern for his own sanity.
"Spirits if I know. It's ice. In the middle of forty-degree heat. The world's full of wonders, isn't it?" Ju replied with a shrug.
"But it really is very strange," Dandan remarked as she watched a local casually chip pieces off the iceberg as though there were nothing unusual about it at all, presumably for some everyday use.
"Whatever the case, it has nothing to do with our objective," Suki said, practical as always.
Since taking off in a hot-air balloon in broad daylight would have been a less-than-brilliant idea, I decided we'd wait until nightfall, travel farther beyond the town limits, and only then launch. The companions staying behind would return the animals and wagons afterward. That would still cause some excitement — assuming anyone even paid attention to us at all, since the town was overflowing with travelers, merchants, and random drifters — but nowhere near as much as openly showing off an unknown flying machine.
Until the appointed hour, we sat around in a bar, where we learned what they did with the ice hacked off the iceberg — they used it to make cups. Literal cups. Out of ice. Drinks here were served in them, mostly various fruit juices, both with pulp and without. Incidentally, the drinks were prepared right in front of the customer, sometimes using broadswords, daggers, and other assorted instruments of murder. Personally, I thought cutting mangoes with military-grade weapons was not only disrespectful to the weapons themselves, but outright idiotic besides — swords got ruined from that sort of thing pretty quickly. Still, the tourists seemed to love it.
By dusk, people had started growing tired and drifting back toward their rooms and lodgings. We calmly paid our tab at the bar and left alongside the tourists. Getting out of the town itself proved just as easy — no guards, no checkpoints, no inspections; do whatever you want and haul around whatever you please. Honestly, with a little effort and the right questions, you could probably find slaves here, drugs, and Spirits-knew-what else.
The town may have appealed to my companions, but personally, it left me with an unpleasant feeling. So when we finally took to the sky, I allowed myself a quiet sigh of relief. Up until the very end, I'd been half-expecting to get dragged into some completely unnecessary mess with… well, anyone at all.
***
The library came into view on the third day. The tall tower looked alien and unnatural against the surrounding desert landscape.
"Finally. Ramis, steer us toward the structure and start setting up camp. We'll be staying here for a while."
"It'll be done, Commodore," the warrior nodded and gradually began lowering the furnace flame.
After landing beside the tower, we began unloading — tents, supplies, a cover for the hot-air balloon. As for me, I grabbed a couple of ropes with hooks attached, along with the results of my calligraphy exercises. Going to a collector spirit empty-handed would have been improper, but handing over something truly valuable right off the bat was also out of the question. The greedy little toad inside me wouldn't approve, for one thing, and for another, that owl's appetite might grow. I wasn't even certain negotiations would succeed as it was. A calligraphy scroll, meanwhile, was a traditional gift in formal negotiations, one used for thousands of years.
"Keep setting things up. I'll go scout ahead."
"Alone?" Suki raised her head. "Isn't that too dangerous?"
"It's better not to irritate the local keeper with large crowds. And if negotiations fail, an army won't do us any good against him either."
Without waiting for further objections, I tossed a grappling hook into one of the tower's windows and climbed upward. Once I pulled myself onto the platform, I secured another rope and this time lowered myself through a hatch in the floor and into the library proper.
The sight was staggering.
From above, the vast hall opened before me, bathed in soft light. Intricately carved columns supported elegant arches adorned with reliefs depicting various places, animals, and birds — mostly owls. And shelves.
Thousands upon thousands of bookshelves stretching from one edge of visible space to the other. How many there truly were beyond that, no one could say. Millions of books waited for anyone willing to touch their wisdom… and capable of convincing the Librarian to permit it.
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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