In all things, praise to Lord Jaddeth.
Forton, apothecary and loyal subject of Wyrn.
Hrathen picked up a vial, regarding its dark contents with wonder. He had almost forgotten his late-night call to Forton. He vaguely remembered assuming he would administer the poison to Dilaf. That plan wouldn't work anymore. He needed something more spectacular.
Hrathen swished the poison around in its vial for a moment, then pulled off the stopper and drank it down in a single gulp.
CHAPTER 28
The most difficult part was deciding where to begin reading. The bookshelves extended out of sight. their information stretching as if to eternity. Raoden was certain that the clues he needed were contained somewhere within the vast sea of pages, but finding them seemed a daunting task indeed.
Karata was the one who made the discovery. She located a low bookshelf near the side of the room opposite the entrance. A set of about thirty volumes squatted on the shelf, waiting in their dust. They dictated a cataloguing system, with numbers relating to the various columns and rows of the library. From it, Raoden easily located the books on AonDor. He selected the least complicated volume he could find, and set to work.
Raoden restricted knowledge of the library to himself, Galladon, and Karata. Not only did he fear a repeat of Aanden's book boiling, but he sensed a sacredness to the structure. It was not a place to be invaded by visitors, misunderstanding fingers that would disorganize books and shatter the calm.
They kept the pool a secret as well, giving Mareshe and Saolin a simplified explanation. Raoden's own longings warned him how dangerous the pool was. There was a parr of him that wanted to seek out its deadly embrace, the refreshment of destruction. If the people knew that there was an easy, painless way to escape the suffering, many would take it without deliberation. The city would be depopulated in a matter of months.
Letting them do so was an option, of course. What right had he to keep the others from their peace? Still, Raoden felt that it was too soon to give up on Elantris. In the weeks before Sarene began giving out food, he had seen that Elantris could forget its pains and its hungers. The Elantrians could move beyond their urges-there was an escape for them besides destruction.
But not for him. The pain swelled with each passing day. It drew strength from the Dor, bringing him a little closer to submission with its every assault. Fortunately, he had the books to distract him. He studied them with hypnotic fascination, finally discovering the simple explanations he had sought for so long.
He read how the complex Aon equations worked together. Drawing a line slightly longer in proportion to the rest of an Aon could have drastic effects. Two
Aon equations could start the same, but-like two rocks rolled down a mountain on slightIy different paths-they could end up doing completely different things. All by changing the length of a few lines.
He began to grasp the theory of AonDor. The Dor was as Galladon had described it: a powerful reservoir just beyond the normal senses. Its only desire was to escape. The books explained that the Dor existed in a place that was full of pressure, and so the energy pushed its way through any viable exit, moving from an area of high concentration to one of low.
However, because of the Dor's nature, it could enter the physical world only through gates of the proper size and shape. Elantrians could create rifts with their drawings, providing a means for the Dor to escape. and those drawings would determine what form the energy took when it appeared. However, if even one line was of the wrong proportion, the Dor would be unable to enter-like a square trying to force its way through a round hole. Some theorists described the process using unfamiliar words like "frequency" and "pulse length." Raoden was only beginning to understand how much scientific genius was held in the library's musty pages.
Still, for all of his studies, he was disappointingly unable to find out what had made AonDor stop working. He could only guess that the Dor had changed somehow. Perhaps now, instead of a square. the Dor was a triangle-and, no matter how many square-shaped Aons Raoden drew. the energy couldn't get through. What could have led to the Dor's sudden shift was beyond him.
"How did that get in here?" Galladon asked, interrupting Raoden's thoughts. The Dula pointed toward the Seon Ien, who floated along the top of a bookshelf, his light casting shadows on the books.
"I don't know." Raoden said, watching ten loop a few times.
"I have to admit, sule. Your Seon is creepy."
Raoden shrugged. "All of the mad Seons are that way."
"Yes, but the others generally stay away from people." Galladon eyed Ten. shivering slightly. The Seon, as usual. didn't pay any apparent attention to Galladonthough Ien did seem to like staying near Raoden.
"Well, anyway," Galladon said, "Saolin's asking for you."
Raoden nodded, closing his book and rising from the small desk-one of many at the back of the library. He joined Galladon at the doorway. The Dula shot one last, uncomfortable look at Ien before closing the door, locking the Seon in darkness.
"I don't know, Saolin," Raoden said hesitantly.
"My lord, we have little choice," the soldier said. "My men have too many injuries. It would be pointless to stand against Shaor today-the wildmen would barely pause to laugh as they pushed us out of the way."
Raoden nodded with a sigh. The soldier was right: They couldn't keep holding Shaor's men away from Sarene. Though Saolin had grown quite proficient at fighting with his left hand, there just weren't enough warriors left to protect the courtyard. In addition, it seemed that Shaor's men were growing more and more dangerous in their ferocity. They could obviousIy sense that there was food in the courtyard. and the inability to reach it had driven them to an even deeper level of insanity.
Raoden had tried leaving food out for them, but the distraction only worked for a short time. They stuffed their faces, then rushed on, even more furious than before. They were driven by a single-minded, obsessive goaclass="underline" to reach the carts of food in the courtyard.
If only we had more soldiers! Raoden thought with frustration. He'd lost many of his people to Sarene's handouts, while Shaor's numbers were apparently remaining strong. Raoden and Galladon had both offered to join Saolin's fighters, but the grizzled captain would hear nothing of it.
"Leaders don't fight," the broken-nosed man had said simply. "You're too valuable."
Raoden knew the man was right. Raoden and Galladon were not soldiers; they wouldn't do much besides disorder Saolin's carefully trained troops. They had few choices left, and it appeared Saolin's plan was the best of several bad options.
"All right." Raoden said. "Do it."
"Very good, my lord," Saolin said with a slight bow. "I will begin the preparations-we only have a few minutes until the princess arrives."
Raoden dismissed Saolin with a nod. The soldier's plan was a desperate last-ditch attempt at a trap. Shaor's men tended to take that same path eaeh day before splitting up to try and work their way into the courtyard, and Saolin planned to ambush them as they approached. It was risky, but it was probably their only chance. The soldiers could not continue fighting as they were.
"I suppose we should go. then." Raoden said.
Galladon nodded. As they turned to walk toward the courtyard, Raoden couldn't help feeling uncomfortable with the decision he'd made. If Saolin lost, then the wildmen would break through. If Saolin won, it would mean the death or incapacitation of dozens of Elantrians-men, on both sides, that Raoden should have been able to protect.
Either way, I'm a failure, Raoden thought.
Sarene could tell something was wrong. but she wasn't sure what it could be. Spirit was nervous, his friendly banter subdued. It wasn't her-it was something else. Perhaps some burden of leadership.