“I’m right here, you don’t have to yell.”
They played with the door and entrance until all understood the methods to use it, then they carried the crates into the room. Prin remembered when she checked outside, the wall was not more than a single step thick. But, passing through the rock wall revealed a room at least thirty paces in any direction.
To her left was a large desk with a floor to ceiling bookcase behind. Hundreds of books, scrolls, and stacks of parchment filled them. Shelves surrounded the room, two, three, four, and some five high. Canisters, containers, jars, pots, and boxes were stored in clusters, all neatly labeled.
The floor held at least twenty work tables of varying heights. Most were high enough that no bending was required to work on them. Lamps, candles, and reflectors sat where they provided light, but Prin looked up at the first skylights she’d ever seen.
An oddly shaped iron plate stood against one wall, almost as tall as Sara, with ridges fastened to it. Prin pointed.
Maude said, “An old, but efficient way to heat this room without telltale smoke or having to lug wood in here. The other side is the fireplace. Build a fire there, and that warms this room from the iron grate radiating it in here. Let me clear those two tables nearest you, and we can set your things there.”
Maude nodded approvingly as the contents of the first crate were placed on the worktable. She read each label and commented on a few. The tools and other items were inspected and duly admired. Then they opened a crate where Jam had destroyed much of the contents. Loose pages were scattered, the remains of containers mixed together in the bottom of the crate, along with broken pottery.
Maude’s face paled, then reddened. “That little savage. To cause you pain, he destroyed work done hundreds of years ago. When we have removed all from the crate, that which spilled and combined with other compounds will be carried out back and burned.”
She carefully removed every torn page and handed them to Sara. “You take these and find the book each came from. I will bind them back together.”
Maude turned away to speak to Prin, but paused and looked back at Sara. “One more thing. You will not stand in my way when I find, and make Jam pay for this.”
They searched the contents of the other crates, with Maude muttering curses until there were two crates remaining. The top of one reveal the books, scrolls, and papers, many obviously old. Maude instantly noted many were in other languages, and she pointed to three. “Those are enchanted to hide their real purpose. There are two sets of writings, do you see?”
Sara and Prin nodded, while Brice shook his head. Maude said, “You won’t see what we do, Brice. There is one set of words in black, another in blue. One is a story for children, I believe, and not a very good one, but meant for those without powers to read. The blue describes a sort of spell I’m not familiar with.”
The final crate held mostly notebooks, handwritten, but not all by the same hand. In fact, as they looked through them, at least five distinct methods of writing were there. Maude drew a deep breath and hissed, “These are worth a fortune.”
“They were given to us.”
“You have more here than I have managed to collect in my lifetime, and I also have acquired the works of two sorceresses before me. It will take both your entire lives to read and understand what is before you.”
Prin and Sara exchanged looks, something becoming like the actions of sisters. Prin knew she didn’t intend to study the contents of the crate for her entire life.
But, before either could say anything, Maude continued, “The first thing you must do, and I stress must, is to make arrangements for all of this in the case of an accident or your demise.”
“We’re young,” Sara said, then must have thought about the assassins chasing them. “How do we do that?”
“Do you know any sorceresses? Besides me?”
“Evelyn, the one who saved us,” Prin said.
“Then, I suggest a legal paper willing all this to her upon your death. Until we have other means, I’ll keep one copy, and one will be sent to her after we find a way to do that in private, and trusted manner. That probably means Brice will carry it to her on one of his voyages.”
A pounding on the front door sounded. All four of then rushed to the main room and tried to appear innocent. Maude answered the door, and a soldier of the Iron Ring stood outside but made no attempt to enter. He said, “A young man has been watching your house all morning. Would you like us to detain him?”
“Jam,” Sara said before Prin could.
Maude said, “We will contact you if we require assistance, but I’m told you are authorized to accept donations for your cause.”
He said, “I am; however, our services do not require and anticipate contributions. Our work is accomplished without obligation.”
Maude reached for his hand and pressed several coins into his palm. “No obligation. A donation from a friend who helped my friends.”
He turned and left.
“I knew it,” Prin scowled. “What is with that boy?”
Sara said, “He was supposed to be on a ship that sailed.”
“I wish he would just forget about me,” Prin said.
Maude reached for the new pot of boiling water in the teapot and another tray of cookies. “Tell me his story. All of it. If there is a threat, he may have to forget about you. Forever.”
Both Sara and Prin turned at the same time. Prin said, “A threat to us? Of course, he is.”
“Or perhaps there is a threat to him?” Maude said, spooning sugar into her tea. “I suppose either is possible.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
After telling Maude about her interactions and observations with Jam, the entire story from the beginning, Prin was taken aback by talking about the boy. She had never combined all his actions into one narrative, and the more she spoke, the more dangerous he seemed. Individually, the incidents seemed benign. Taken together, Prin cringed.
Since he had managed to escape from the ship his father had found for him and returned to Gallium to do her harm, the situation became malignant. The idea he had managed to track them down in the vast city, even more frightening.
Maude listened until the end, and then Sara added what she knew. Maude didn’t seem nearly as upset as earlier. She said, “Okay, your stories are compelling, but here’s what I think. Jam was put on the new ship, but it had to return to port for some reason, probably a torn sail or leak in the hull. Perhaps even because of his actions. He may have caused the ship harm. Jam then managed to slip off, which would not be that difficult. They would not know of his slipperiness. He probably returned to his father’s ship but didn’t board. He watched.”
“But he found us,” Prin said. “And we left as soon as the ship went into drydock before he could have returned.”
“Because he watched the ship, and he knew the regular routine for refitting, he knew all the regular cargo bound for Gallium was already unloaded. The remainder was to be placed in secure storage until the ship was completed. So, when your crates, the very ones he’d already ransacked, were removed from the hold, he knew they were going to be delivered to you. He simply followed or bribed the driver for the destination. Nothing deviant or magical.”
Both Prin and Sara relaxed.
Maude continued, “Yes, nothing out of the ordinary or exceptional, but you have to give the boy credit, he is persistent. And a danger to you.”
“What should we do,” Prin asked.
“Nothing. Both of you will remain in the house. We may request our Iron Ring friends to escort Brice to a ship ready to sail when the time comes, just to prevent Jam from doing anything rash. I expect Jam to wait until the last minute before the Merry Princess sails and rush to his father and ask forgiveness and the return of his berth, but if his father is any sort of captain, he’ll refuse.”