The Search for the Red Dragon - James A. Owen [100]
“I’m called Asterius,” he said without looking back, “and I assure you, anything you’ve heard about me certainly isn’t true.”
“What would we have heard of you?” Bert asked.
“I can leave whenever I want,” Asterius replied, “I just choose not to. I’m also of noble blood, did you know? Could you tell? Yes,” he continued, answering himself, “noble blood. It’s obvious.”
Charles looked at John and twirled a finger at his temple. John grinned and nodded.
“I don’t usually mix with commoners, not that I have any time to,” Asterius said. “There’s always so much to do here.”
“Where is ‘here,’ exactly?” asked John.
“My house,” Asterius said, surprised. “Didn’t you know? You came to see me, after all.”
“Actually, we came for Jack,” Charles said mildly.
Asterius deflated slightly. “Oh yes, that’s right. Well, paperwork,” he said.
“You have a very large house,” Bert observed.
“As well I should,” the creature replied. “It is as big as Creation, after all.”
“That big?” said Charles.
“Oh yes,” said Asterius. “Maybe bigger.”
“Do you have many visitors?” asked Bert.
“No,” Asterius answered. “Not many. Oh, every nine years or so someone comes along who wants to fight, but that’s about it.”
The corridor opened into a broad room filled with shelves, old bones, and papyrus rolls. The little creature positioned himself on a high stool and began to shuffle through a sheaf of documents.
“Yes,” he continued, somewhat mournfully. “Ever since that brat Theseus put my eye out, I’ve been stuck here at…at…a desk job. I should be out wandering the countryside, spreading fear and terror wherever I roam….”
Asterius sighed. He looked at Charles with a wan eye. “You don’t believe me. You don’t think I’m capable of spreading fear, do you? I never get any respect.”
“Oh, I assure you, you’re considerably fearsome,” Charles said, elbowing John.
“Oh, yes,” agreed John. “Fearful. Terrifying. I wouldn’t sleep for nights if I even got a glimpse of you on the horizon.”
“Really?” the little creature said, eyes brightening. He sat slightly taller (as much taller as the carapace would allow) and seemed to puff out his chest. “Well then, now that’s been established, what can I do for you?”
“Jack,” Aven said, exasperated. “We’re here for Jack.”
“Hmm,” said Asterius. “All I have here is unsuitables. Is Jack unsuitable?”
“Unsuitable for what?” said John.
“To fight,” said Asterius. “To fight in the Great Crusade. Those who were suitable went with the king, and those who were unsuitable came here. You really are rather unlearned, aren’t you?”
Having found whatever documentation it was he needed, Asterius led the companions back into the great labyrinth of halls and corridors, still talking all the way.
“Here we are,” he announced, hefting the lamp to a short pedestal to better light the spacious room they had entered. “The Aedificium.”
It was a great octagon, but, their strange guide explained, it appeared from a distance as a tetragon.
“Why is that significant?” asked John.
“It’s a Christian conceit,” said Charles. “The tetragon is supposed to be the perfect physical expression of the permanence and solidity of the Kingdom of God.”
“The Abbey of the Rose!” Bert exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Stellan knew of it. He once said that the design of this place was based on the original plans for the library of Babel, although whether he meant before or after the Great Confusion, I’m not sure.”
All the shelves in the Aedificium, or sacred library, were heavily laden with Bibles. There were incunabula from centuries past; leatherbound Bibles from recent decades; and hand-bound, illuminated manuscripts that had been lovingly, carefully illustrated by the monks who had once resided in the abbey.
In his conservative estimate, John calculated that the room contained twelve thousand Bibles.
“The other papers are in order, so if you’ll just choose the Bible that opens the gate,” said Asterius, pointing to an impassably solid wrought-iron