Interludes
I-2
OBAEO
Obaeo stamped the scroll for the fifth time and sighed. It was dark outside. The library was almost empty, a couple of lanterns still burned at the far end. He collected the first of fourteen boxes from the latest shipment and started sorting the books within by subject matter. This part of his work was quite mundane, especially when a large set of books arrived, like today. But on most days, he could just sit and read till he dropped.
He slowly started loading the small wooden wain with the books. It was carved and labelled with most sections within the library. Other books were just placed in the last tray. As he made his way to each section in the library, he marked each book with a number before placing them. Having read each book in this place, he knew all the titles and their serial number. His spine groaned as he reached the second landing. Sixty-seven years of reading was no mere feat, but it had come at a cost. He sighed again and hurried on.
From above, he saw two people still in the long hall. On the left of the room was a portly man, Uohas, a local merchant. He was wearing lavish robes and two gold rings on both ring fingers. Obaeo knew him well. A scrawny urchin sat with four volumes laid out neatly in front of him at the other end.
Two men entered through the large oak doors of the hall. They didn’t stop by the front desk, and Obaeo smiled with relief. He made his way into an adjacent room, taking the books out of the cart every few minutes and placing them in the shelves. He would have to return to his post soon, it was almost time for Yen to take over from him for the night duty.
As he turned another corner, he heard hurried footsteps. Obaeo turned and saw the young lad from the hall disappear behind a shelf. He dismissed the idea of trying to follow the kid and disciplining him in library etiquette. Blasted kids. People of the town had seen him yell on many occasions. They disliked him for it.
As he made his way out of the smaller room, the cart hit something at the exit. One of the men that had entered the library moments before grunted at him. Obaeo raised his eyebrow at the man.
“Need help with anything?” Obaeo said. He held the small cart firmly in between himself and the stranger. “Walking perhaps?”
The stranger grunted again. He pushed on the cart with his large legs. The man was easily six feet tall, his thick arms giving him the look of a small giant. For all his girth, his face was strangely small. He also had a small beard around his lips, his cheeks clean shaven.
“The boy reading in the hall. Which way did he go?” the man said.
Obaeo stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. The man gave him a look of deep disgust and walked past, entering the smaller room Obaeo had just exited.
The lanterns on the walls faded for a moment. It was the end of another hour. They roared back to their original radiance in a second, the strange white flames creating sharp shadows again. Uohas closed his book and moved his sitting chair back. He then made his way to the front doors. He stopped at the front desk and looked around. Blasted Yen. Always late for his shift. The desk was usually busy at the beginning of the hour, with people wanting to register with the librarians before taking the books home.
Uohas finally found Obaeo on the second floor passage. He waved. Ignoring the apologetic look that Obaeo gave him, he gestured that he would return the next day for the book. He then turned on his heels and left through the front doors.
The next section was history. Obaeo walked through the large hallway off the corridor, continuing to return the books to their rightful shelves. As he placed the third book, he heard movement behind the shelf and jumped.
“Sorry” a small voice said. The boy faced him. “Just a few minutes, I will be out of here.”
“You in trouble, boy?”
“No, I… I was just leaving,” the boy said. He looked past Obaeo at the archway of the history section.
Obaeo sighed. He picked up a few books from the lowest section of the cart and thrust them into one of the emptier trays in the middle. “Get in.”
“What?”
“Now!”
The boy almost fell over. He managed to squeeze into the tray at the bottom of the cart with some difficulty. Hus legs were crossed at an awkward angle, his arms crossed around them.
“Those men were right behind me,” Obaeo said. “Stay in and don’t make a sound.”
Obaeo hurried to the end of the room, where hundreds of banners were hung. He picked an old red sheet with a faded sign on it and covered the complete cart with it. He then added a dozen books on top of the sheet. Making certain that the entire cart was covered in the banner, he rolled it out onto the ramp.
“How much do you weigh boy?” Obaeo grunted. The cart struggled to move, requiring the entirety of Obaeo’s strength. He pushed on.
The two men were in the main hall on the lower landing. They were busy looking at the books on the boy’s table. Obaeo hurried past them with the cart, slowing his pace as he passed them.
As he reached the front desk, he sighed, relieved.
“Now, I will walk as close to the front doors as I possibly can, get out the exit on the left,” he mumbled under his breath, aiming a small kick at the boy to signal him.
“You talk to yourself a lot, old man?”
Obaeo froze. The two men were right behind him. The man who had spoken to him before blocked the front doors, the other man following closely behind. The second man stopped by the cart, placing a hand on it.
“Hard of hearing? I asked if you talk to yourself a lot,” the second man said. He unsheathed a small knife from his robes and pointed it at Obaeo.
“Nice little blanket,” the larger man said, pointing at the cart. “I did not see it before. You don’t even know who you are hiding under there, old man. Leave him to us and get out.”
Obaeo slowed his breathing. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
The two men laughed, their voice echoing through the otherwise empty library. The man by the cart pulled the red sheet off the cart. The books on the top fell with soft thumps. Obaeo closed his eyes and cursed.
The cart was empty. The books were there, of course. But the boy was gone. Vanished. Obaeo relaxed. Invisibility? He hadn’t seen that before. He almost laughed at the possibility. Had the boy exited the cart at some point prior? He kept his head straight forward, afraid of betraying the lad’s position if he turned back and looked for him. He managed the best angry face he could muster in the moment and snarled at the two men.
“Those were an important collection from Gherak, you idiots,” he said loudly. “What is the matter with you?”
The men glanced at one another. The second man made a move toward Obaeo, but the larger man intercepted him.
“Where is he?” he said to Obaeo. “Abetting a felon is a crime, even in your city.”
“Like I said before, I have no idea of what you are accusing me of. The night guard will be here any moment. I suggest that you leave,” Obaeo said coolly. He picked the fallen books slowly, ignoring them.
***
“Nice little trick you’ve got there, kid.”
They were outside. Obaeo had left the large hall and had taken a walk to the gardens surrounding the library. He assumed the boy had followed him. He could hear panting.
He stopped in a particularly well-lit corner, away from the windows. The boy did not reappear suddenly but after about a minute, a silhouette appeared, a rough translucent shape. Then the hair appeared, and slowly the boy’s skin returned.
“Why didn’t you just do that and get out before?” Obaeo said. “You almost had me killed in there. Those guys were out for blood, kid.”
The boy seemed smaller than before. He was covering in the shadows around them. When he spoke, it was the same timid voice from before.
“I can’t do it all the time,” the tone was almost accusatory. “I need to get really jumpy to go completely off. I was doing just that when you found me.”
Obaeo chuckled. “Are you a local from Cuheg? Why haven’t I seen you before?”
The boy shook his head. “No, I am not from here. I come from… somewhere else. Far.”
Obaeo studied the boy. Could it really be happening again? Another gathering? He would have felt something, right? He dismissed the thought. But the boy was here, right in front of him. The boy who could completely disappear. Ruleakar.
“You can’t stay here, boy. More people will come looking for you,” he said. “Head to Ad-Karadere. That’s the only place you will be safe.”
The boy looked at him with tearful eyes. He glanced around him briefly. “I don’t want any trouble. Why is this happening to me?”
“It is a gift,” Obaeo said, before he could stop himself. He sighed. “Head to Ad-Karadere. Do you know how to get there?”
The boy nodded. “Is it really safe there?”
Obaeo hesitated. He closed his eyes in pain before saying the words again.
“That is the only place you’ll be safe.”
the Broken Dragon 