A World Without Heroes - Brandon Mull [18]
“This pie is excellent,” Jason said.
“Yes, there is nothing quite like blue root pie.”
“I was trying to compare the flavor to something.”
“It is unique. How would I describe it? A bit like tasting the opposite of peppered venison in mint sauce.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Why are all these masks winking?” Jason pointed around the room with his fork.
The loremaster dabbed at his mouth with a frilled purple napkin. “One eye is open to all truth, the other closed to all deception.”
“That makes more sense than I expected.” Jason reconsidered the bronze faces as symbols of discernment. “Do you mind if I stay the night?”
The loremaster blinked. “I assumed you would stay much longer than a single night.”
Jason shook his head. “I have to figure out a way home. My parents must be freaking out. My dog is probably starving. My life is there. Everyone I know, my friends. My school.”
“You are a student? What better place for an education than the Repository of Learning?”
“This is a great place, it really is, but I can’t stay.”
The loremaster nodded regretfully. “I was looking forward to some company.”
“You’ve got Hermie,” Jason said.
“A mere lad.”
“I’m only thirteen.”
“That is the year a boy assumes the mantle of manhood. Hermie is but eleven.”
“Maybe you should relocate,” Jason suggested. “You’ll never have many visitors if you stay hidden away in this forest.”
The loremaster shook his head. “Only by my secluded location do I avoid unwanted scrutiny. Those who truly need and appreciate this facility find their way here.”
Jason helped Hermie clear the plates and silverware. In the small kitchen the loremaster refused to let Jason help wash.
“Waste no time dallying with trivialities—Hermie will clean the tableware. Explore the library while you can, for tomorrow may be too late. I only ask you not to trespass in the upper level. It is forbidden.”
“Forbidden? Why?”
Hermie shot Jason a curious glance.
“I cannot say,” the loremaster replied. “But I assure you it is not casually prohibited. My father used to make certain books in our family library forbidden because it was the only way to get me to read them. Boring things, mostly. A clever ruse. That which is not permitted is always most enticing. Do not mistake my intention. I counsel you in all sincerity—resist becoming intrigued. The upper level is completely off-limits for good reason. Understood?”
“Yes,” Jason said. Was the loremaster trying to employ the same trick his father had used, immediately after explaining what his father had done? The upper level might be full of boring textbooks and dictionaries and junk. Or it might be unusually cool, housing ancient artifacts or weapons or treasure. More important, the upper level might contain some clue that could help him find his way home. Hadn’t the loremaster recently explained that information about the Beyond was forbidden? Where better to look than the forbidden area of a library? The more he thought about it, the more it seemed the loremaster had offered a deliberate hint. He left the loremaster and Hermie behind in the kitchen, determined to sleuth out a staircase.
Jason wandered the maze of books, surprised at how easy it was to become disoriented. Before he encountered any stairs, Jason discovered a large atrium in the middle of the library, visible from all sides behind large panels of glass. He found a sliding door and ventured out into the verdant courtyard.
Overhead, the sun had passed midday. A few puffy clouds stood out against a field