Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [168]
“It’s like the water was considered a gate of some sort,” Galladon said, head cocked to the side.
“And he wants us to throw him in,” Raoden realized. “Galladon, did you ever see an Elantrian funeral?”
“Never,” the Dula said with a shake of his head.
“Come on,” Raoden said, looking down at the old man’s eyes. They pointed insistently at a side passage.
Beyond the doorway was a room even more amazing than the first. Karata held up her lantern with a wavering hand.
“Books,” Raoden whispered with excitement. Their light shone on rows and rows of bookshelves, extending into the darkness. The three wandered into the enormous room, feeling an incredible sense of age. Dust coated the shelves, and their footsteps left tracks.
“Have you noticed something odd about this place, sule?” Galladon asked softly.
“No slime,” Karata realized.
“No slime,” Galladon agreed.
“You’re right,” Raoden said with amazement. He had grown so used to New Elantris’s clean streets that he’d almost forgotten how much work it took to make them that way.
“I haven’t found a single place in this town that wasn’t covered with that slime, sule,” Galladon said. “Even my father’s study was coated with it before I cleaned it.”
“There’s something else,” Raoden said, looking back at the room’s stone wall. “Look up there.”
“A lantern,” Galladon said with surprise.
“They line the walls.”
“But why not use Aons?” the Dula asked. “They did everywhere else.”
“I don’t know,” Raoden said. “I wondered the same thing about the entrance. If they could make Aons that transported them instantly around the city, then they certainly could have made one that lowered a rock.”
“You’re right,” Galladon said.
“AonDor must have been forbidden here for some reason,” Karata guessed as they reached the far side of the library.
“No Aons, no slime. Coincidence?” Galladon asked.
“Perhaps,” Raoden said, checking the old man’s eyes. He pointed insistently at a small door in the wall. It was carved with a scene similar to the mural in the first room.
Galladon pulled open the door, revealing a long, seemingly endless passage cut into the stone. “Where in Doloken does this lead?”
“Out,” Raoden said. “The man asked us to take him out of Elantris.”
Karata walked into the passage, running her fingers along its smoothly carved walls. Raoden and Galladon followed. The path quickly grew steep, and they were forced to take frequent breaks to rest their weak Elantrian bodies. They took turns carrying the old man as the slope turned to steps. It took over an hour to reach the path’s end—a simple wooden door, uncarved and unadorned.
Galladon pushed it open, and stepped out into the weak light of dawn. “We’re on the mountain,” he exclaimed with surprise.
Raoden stepped out beside his friend, walking onto a short platform cut into the mountainside. The slope beyond the platform was steep, but Raoden could make out the hints of switchbacks leading down. Abutting the slope was the city of Kae, and beyond that stood the enormous monolith that was Elantris.
He had never really realized just how big Elantris was. It made Kae look like a village. Surrounding Elantris were the ghostly remains of the three other Outer Cities—towns that, like Kae, had once squatted in the shadow of the great city. All were now abandoned. Without Elantris’s magics, there was no way for Arelon to support such a concentration of people. The cities’ inhabitants had been forcibly removed, becoming Iadon’s workmen and farmers.
“Sule, I think our friend is getting impatient.”
Raoden looked down at the Elantrian. The man’s eyes twitched back and forth insistently, pointing at a wide path leading up from the platform. “More climbing,” Raoden said with a sigh.
“Not much,” Karata said from the top of the path. “It ends just up here.”
Raoden nodded and hiked the short distance, joining Karata on the ridge above the platform.
“Lake,” the man whispered in exhausted satisfaction.
Raoden frowned. The “lake” was barely ten feet deep—more like a pool. Its water was a crystalline blue, and