Mel Odom - The Lost Library of Cormanthyr

And Baylee couldn't wait. He pointed up. "Rig another rope from that tree," he said. "I’ll need it for support to make the descent. Those who follow me will need it as well."

Cordyan ordered the men into motion.

Retreating from the group, Baylee found a wall of brush to keep his modesty intact. He stripped off the chain mail armor and clothing.

"What are you doing?" Cordyan asked.

"Getting ready to make the descent"

"Unarmored?" The watch civilar stood on the other side of the brush, watching doubtfully.

"Chain mail is great if you're going into battle," Baylee said. "But not for getting around ruins." He opened his bag of holding and pulled out the leather armor inside. It was a full set of gnomish workman's leather armor, complete with a hood that fit snugly over his head. But this set of gnomish workman's leather armor had been built to fit Baylee precisely, allowing him access to the dozens of pockets and secret areas inside the armor. When he'd traveled with Golsway and found out about the armor that came complete with multitudinous pockets, he'd wanted a set It had taken nearly a year for him to build a friendship with a party of gnomes who followed the explorer's way themselves. In the end, they'd made him the suit in return for help he'd given them.

He ran his hands over the pockets, knowing the positions of all the lock picks, hammers, chisels, brushes, and other implements he'd found of service while crawling through excavation sites. As he'd donned the armor, his trepidation about descending into the well had waned. He pulled his boots on again, then pulled the leggings of the armor tight. Each device in his pockets was placed carefully enough that it didn't clink or make a sound when he moved.

Finished, he started for the well.

"Baylee, I hope your pride and your overconfidence don't get you killed down there," Cordyan said.

"It's not going to," the ranger said. "I'm better than that. This- this is what I live for, Cordyan. And what Golsway lived for, too." But he couldn't deny the seed of fear twisting in his stomach. He started to walk away, feeling Xuxa's eyes on him as she hung from a tree branch.

Then he turned on his heel and approached Cordyan directly, feeling more afraid of what he was about to do than any thought of descending into the well gave him. Before she could pull away, he put his hand to the back of her head and pulled her to him, kissing her fiercely. He was surprised at how she kissed back. Behind him, men shouted out ribald encouragement.

Then he stepped away and she slapped him. Not as hard, Baylee knew, as she was capable of. But the ribald encouragement became faked groans of sympathy and laughter.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"For making me worry about you," she replied. "And for even daring to think you could do that, much less act on it."

"But you kissed me back."

"I did no such thing. And if you don't mind to keep a civil tongue in your head when you address a civilar of the Waterdhavian Watch, I'll have the tongue from your head."

Even more confused, Baylee approached the well. / thought you said she liked me, he accused Xuxa.

Liking you and putting up with improprieties are a totally different matter, the azmyth bat said. You should have asked.

She would probably have said no. And it was just kind of a good luck token.

I get the strong feeling that Cordyan Tsald would never allow herself to be anyone's 'token.' And if that kiss was for you alone because you're scared, then that was very selfish of you.

Guilt stung Baylee. He hadn't wanted to descend into the waiting darkness without reaching out to someone. It was a weakness he hadn't expected at the moment and didn't like to admit. He hesitated on the lip of the well to secure the lantern of continual light to his belt, then turned to look at Cordyan. "I'm sorry," he said. He dropped over the side of the well, the rope sliding through his gloved hands as he dropped rapidly.

Xuxa dropped with him, flitting to a rest on his shoulder.

The lantern spewed out yellow light, striking harsh reflections from the murky water below. Baylee wondered how deep it might be, working his jaw to finish easing out the sting of Cordyan's slap.

A jutting section of stone caught his attention almost at the water's level. He squeezed his hands together and halted his downward flight. Removing a twist of horsehair from his leather armor, he secured it to the rope, making a stirrup for himself further down. He stood in the stirrup and leaned toward the wall, adjusting the light to play over the jutting stone.

Sections of letters showed through the stone. They held curlicues of elven script, a recent language Baylee knew. Evidently whoever had hidden the secret door hadn't used the dead language Skyreach had used in her logbook.

Maybe Glitterwing wanted the library found, Xuxa proposed. In case they couldn't get it out in time.

Baylee knew it was possible. Glitterwing wouldn't have wanted the library kept away from his heirs. He took a brush from the armor and carefully cleaned out the letters. Luckily, the water table hadn't been high lately, so he dealt with dirt rather than mud. The letters cleaned easily, and with every one that became visible, his confusion went away and the excitement took over.

"What's going on down there?" Cthulad called.

"I've found what has to be the hidden door," Baylee said. "But there's writing on it." Finished cleaning the letters, he raised the lantern and translated aloud." 'For he who would seek the knowledge contained beyond this portal, let him first acknowledge his right to such passage with the trinity of truth.'"

"Is there anything else?"

Baylee examined the wall beside the stone. "A series of gems inset in the stone. They have pictographs above them. Religious symbols. I recognize them all." His finger traced the crescent moon. "Corellon Larethian." Next came a bird silhouetted on a cloud. "Aerdrie Faenya." Followed by a star with asymmetric rays. "Erevan Ilesere." And a heart. "Hanali Celanil." And a setting sun. "Labelas Enoreth." A great oak. "Rillifane Rallathil." And, finally, a silver arrow. "And Solonor Thelandira."

"All gods of the elves," Calebaan said.

"Yes." Baylee studied them, remembering their mythologies easily.

"And you are supposed to pick three of the seven present, I assume?"

'That's my best guess," Baylee answered. He shifted, taking a length of rope from one of the gnomish workman's leathers and tying a harness around himself. When he had it finished, he turned to place his feet against the side of the well.

He brushed along the lines of mortar, finding small holes in the material along the big stone. He figured he was right about it being a door. It looked like it slid back once the locking maneuvers were completed. But the space also left room for some rather nasty surprises.

"Which three?" Cthulad asked.

Baylee shifted, reaching out to touch the gem with the crescent moon. "Corellon Larethian, of course, because all the elves set him above the others."

"Wait!" Cordyan said. "What if you have to pick them in a certain order?"

Baylee hesitated, his finger above the inset gem. "I've already figured on that. That's why Larethian has to be the first." He slid his finger across the gem's surface, tensing as he heard grinding on the other side of the wall. A moment later, it stopped. "So far, so good." He surveyed the other choices.

Labelas Enoreth has to be the second choice. Xuxa hung on the well wall nearby, her wings wrapped around herself. He was considered to be the teacher of the elves. The philosopher, as well as the ideal of elven thought and superiority over other races.

Agreed. Baylee let out a tight breath and touched the gem beneath the pictograph of the setting sun.