Chapter 30

“Are these plants growing out of the wall? Danel asked. The cascading of vines that wound between and over bushes and trees was impenetrable. Strange flowers emerged at random among the green scape, some small and delicate and others were garish. Insects dive bombed him while others zipped around. He continually brushed the offending creatures off his arms and legs in a continuous dance.

“No, I see cleverly disguised planters that appear to be natural features providing space for roots and then sturdy lips for the vines to reach over. Look up here, but from the side. Do you see that bulge? That is a planter built into the wall.” Rahim pointed at his target. An insect landed on his pointing finger, which Rahim flicked off with his next finger without hesitation.

“How?” Janner asked. He kept waving his free hand in front of his face, chasing away the buzzing annoyances.

“There is a legend of the great wonders of the ancient world,” Danel said. “One of them was the Hanging Gardens of Zeruhabel,” the greatest king of Habel. No drawing or detailed description has survived, only the mentions that it existed. Surely, this garden gives credence and context to the history that has been passed down.”

“Door!” Janner cried out after he assiduously thrust his sword through the greenery for many minutes. “I found a door. But.”

“But what?” Danel asked as he stepped over to Janner.

“It’s a barn door and it slides to the side,” Janner said. “We’ve not encountered such a device before and few of them exist in the Library of Ibados, only in the back storerooms where goods are delivered.”

“Practicality,” Rahim said as he examined the large vertical bar bolted to the door. “Say you come here to harvest the fruits of some of these trees. A sliding door makes sense.”

“Has the door been used recently?” Danel asked. “If it slides easily...”

“If it slides easily, then it is well lubricated,” Janner said. “I see no trampled grass or press of a game trail here.”

“Oh,” Danel said. “I guess I am just a Librarian, after all.”

“Yeah, JUST a Librarian,” Janner said, shaking his head. “Save your pity party for someone who cares.” He grabbed the handle with both hands. Slowly, he rolled the door to the side. “What do you see?”

“I see a set of stone benches on either side, a slanted ceiling, and beyond them by thirty or so strides, there is a stone archway. I think...”

“I think we are too,” Rahim said, muscling Danel aside. “I will go first, just in case, Librarian.” Rahim gently pushed Danel to the side again and stepped into the vestibule. “I smell water, but there is something off about it. Strange.”

“Seawater?” Janner suggested.

“No, something more metallic but not sulfur springs either,” Rahim answered. “Let me walk to the archway unescorted, just in case.”

Danel did not know what to do with himself. He stared at Rahim’s broad back with consternation as his hands went his opposing elbows only to drop to his hips as he pushed himself out of a stoop and stood straight. He was panting slightly, painfully aware of beads of sweat on his forehead. His hair was matted.

Rahim reached the doorway of the arch and stopped. He leaned out and glanced in both directions. With a hand braced against the stone, Rahim leaned out further, taking a slow semicircle with his chin thrust out. Slowly, the man pulled himself back and eased back from the arch. He turned on his heel and walked back to Danel and Janner.

Danel studied his friend’s face as he came nearer for any clue about what he had seen. Was he astonished? Subdued? Confused? The face revealed nothing.

“Well?” Danel whispered when Rahim was close enough.

“There is a river and on the opposite shore is a grand promenade,” Rahim said. “There are people to be sure, but I did not see them in the many doorways. The lights hanging over the promenade are not sufficiently bright to see far or to penetrate the shadows. There is a narrow walk and doorways on this side of the river as well, and the entrances are framed with Doric columns. Sound familiar?”

“Third floor, second corridor from the tenth hallway up to the hundred and fourth,” Danel said. “Repositories? Archives?”

“We would need to approach them to ascertain their contents,” Rahim said. “However, I felt as if eyes were watching me as I stood under the archway, Librarian. I don’t think we’re alone.”

“What do we do?” Janner asked, looking at Danel.

“Hell, if I know,” Danel said. “I know about trading horses and breaking bread over a mug of beer. I don’t expect horses, bread, or beer.” He chewed on his inner cheek for a moment before letting out a sigh. “The answers are out there. Let’s try formal politeness and see what happens. The gods sent us here, after all.”

“How do we cross the river?” Janner asked.

“The gods will provide,” Danel responded with unmasked cynicism. “Just like they’ve provided everything else for our search, a map, for instance.”

“Perhaps the journey is more than a physical one, and a candidate must prepare themselves mentally and spiritually to confront the foundations that Ibados, blessed be his name, built,” Rahim said.

“Oh, you mean, fear, terror, ostracism, informal banishment and a touch of deprivation for that extra little zing?” Danel spat to the side. “Don’t worry, Rahim, I will not curse the gods. I’m not inclined to sing their praises either. I prefer Janner’s sword arm to any gifts from the gods at this moment. Come, we’re wasting time and I’m losing my nerve.”

The three walked through the portico. Danel paused, looked both ways, and stepped out onto the stone path. The stones were worn. The mortar between the blocks was cracked and broken, crumbly when he brushed the tip of his shoe over the grayish chalk. The blocks themselves were chipped and pocked as if they were weathered, yet there was no phenomenon as weather here.

The air had an actinic aroma that was stronger the closer one came to the edge of the canal. Leaning over the water, Danel was taken aback by the oddness of scent, as if something unhealthy was trapped in the wetness. He quickly stepped back and away from the canal.

“It looks like water, but that’s not water,” Janner said, putting into words what Danel was trying to clarify in his thoughts. “The liquid is wet, but I wouldn’t drink it.”

“I agree,” Rahim said in a near whisper.

Observing the stone path in both directions, Danel noted the columns that were topped with a stone-carved roof. They were porticoes. From the angle in which he was standing, the Librarian could not discern where any of those entrances led. Like Rahim, he speculated they were repositories of some sort, quite possibly the missing blueprints for the Library of Ibados. If not the building plans, they housed something equally important that was beyond his limited training and imagination.

“How ignorant I have been, and I did not know it,” Danel said. He corrected himself. “How easily I allowed myself to be lulled into the illusion of mastery, when I knew I was a neophyte in my heart of hearts. How quickly I chose to forget my lack of knowledge. By the gods, I’ve been an arrogant ass.”

“Go easy on yourself, Librarian,” Rahim rumbled. “Remember, I’ve met your leadership and surely, they make uninspiring models of librarianship. However, they’re the best that we have, given the descending levels of ignorance imposed upon them that we have uncovered. I would propose they’ve done nothing wrong, only to clarify that they may not have done much right.”