now.” He seemed to study the boy, the torchlight reflecting off the old man’s glasses and making it appear as if small flames danced in his eyes. “Hugo was right. You do look so like your father.”
And again, despite all that had happened, despite all that was still happening, Michael felt a warm glow spread out from his chest and down to the tips of his fingers. He did not even try to suppress it.
He said, very quietly, “… Cool.”
“Yes,” the wizard said. “It is cool.”
Ten yards further on, they found the inscription.
On a section of the tunnel wall that had been sanded smooth, someone had chiseled the same symbol—the three interlocking circles—that had been on the tomb. Below that, likewise carved deep into the stone, was what Michael took for writing, though the language was one he did not recognize. In some ways, it reminded him of Chinese or Japanese, in that the characters were ornate and heavily structured, but there were no breaks between them; everything seemed to flow together, and Michael couldn’t tell if you read it forward, backward, top to bottom, or bottom to top.
He thought it was very beautiful.
“Amazing.” Dr. Pym held his torch close to the rock wall and gripped Michael’s shoulder. “So many years I’ve been searching. We are close, we are very close.”
“What does it say?” Michael asked. “Can you read it?”
“I can. It is the ancient language in which the Books of Beginning are written. Here is the oath of the Order of Guardians.” He pointed to the script just below the symbol and read aloud, his voice reverberating off the walls, “ ‘Bear witness all that I, nameless, do pledge my breath, my strength, my very life, to this sacred task. None shall harm that which I have vowed to protect. So I swear till death frees me of my bond.’ ”
Michael decided that it was a very good oath. Granted, if a dwarf had written it, there would’ve been more mentions of bashing in an enemy’s helmet and of promises hardened in the forges of eternity, but Michael knew you couldn’t hold everyone to a dwarfish standard.
“And this part,” Dr. Pym continued, tapping his finger on the lower portion of text. “ ‘I have failed in my mission. What I leave, I leave in hopes the Keeper may one day arrive. Choose rightly, and you may never die. Choose wrongly, and you will join me.… And Three will become One.’ ”
“What does it mean?” Michael asked.
“Three becoming One is a reference to the Books of Beginning. According to legend, one day the Books will be brought together, three working as one to fulfill their destiny. But the part that interests me is where he writes ‘What I leave, I leavein hopes the Keeper may one day arrive.’ That implies that our mysterious friend has indeed left some sort of map to find the
Chronicle
. We may yet be in luck.”
“Wait, what’s that?” Michael pointed to a line of very small writing at the bottom of the inscription. He thought it looked like a different language.
The wizard leaned forward, and suddenly let out a loud, echoing laugh.
“What?” Michael demanded. “What does it say?”
“ ‘Tunnel and tomb constructed by Osborne and Sons, Dwarf Contractors, Malpesa.’ ” The wizard was still laughing. “I’d wondered how our sick fellow had burrowed down from that grave. He hired dwarves to do the digging for him.”
“And he would’ve trusted them to keep his secret?” Michael asked, and immediately felt guilty for having said it.
“Oh, I doubt he conveyed the true nature of his secret, but in essence, yes. He would have trusted them. Dwarf builders are known for their discretion. There’s not a safe or vault in the magical world that wasn’t built by a dwarf. I’m surprised you don’t know that.”
“Well,” Michael said defensively, “you can’t expect one person to know everything about dwarves. There’s so much. You could learn everything about elves in a good twenty
And again, despite all that had happened, despite all that was still happening, Michael felt a warm glow spread out from his chest and down to the tips of his fingers. He did not even try to suppress it.
He said, very quietly, “… Cool.”
“Yes,” the wizard said. “It is cool.”
Ten yards further on, they found the inscription.
On a section of the tunnel wall that had been sanded smooth, someone had chiseled the same symbol—the three interlocking circles—that had been on the tomb. Below that, likewise carved deep into the stone, was what Michael took for writing, though the language was one he did not recognize. In some ways, it reminded him of Chinese or Japanese, in that the characters were ornate and heavily structured, but there were no breaks between them; everything seemed to flow together, and Michael couldn’t tell if you read it forward, backward, top to bottom, or bottom to top.
He thought it was very beautiful.
“Amazing.” Dr. Pym held his torch close to the rock wall and gripped Michael’s shoulder. “So many years I’ve been searching. We are close, we are very close.”
“What does it say?” Michael asked. “Can you read it?”
“I can. It is the ancient language in which the Books of Beginning are written. Here is the oath of the Order of Guardians.” He pointed to the script just below the symbol and read aloud, his voice reverberating off the walls, “ ‘Bear witness all that I, nameless, do pledge my breath, my strength, my very life, to this sacred task. None shall harm that which I have vowed to protect. So I swear till death frees me of my bond.’ ”
Michael decided that it was a very good oath. Granted, if a dwarf had written it, there would’ve been more mentions of bashing in an enemy’s helmet and of promises hardened in the forges of eternity, but Michael knew you couldn’t hold everyone to a dwarfish standard.
“And this part,” Dr. Pym continued, tapping his finger on the lower portion of text. “ ‘I have failed in my mission. What I leave, I leave in hopes the Keeper may one day arrive. Choose rightly, and you may never die. Choose wrongly, and you will join me.… And Three will become One.’ ”
“What does it mean?” Michael asked.
“Three becoming One is a reference to the Books of Beginning. According to legend, one day the Books will be brought together, three working as one to fulfill their destiny. But the part that interests me is where he writes ‘What I leave, I leavein hopes the Keeper may one day arrive.’ That implies that our mysterious friend has indeed left some sort of map to find the
Chronicle
. We may yet be in luck.”
“Wait, what’s that?” Michael pointed to a line of very small writing at the bottom of the inscription. He thought it looked like a different language.
The wizard leaned forward, and suddenly let out a loud, echoing laugh.
“What?” Michael demanded. “What does it say?”
“ ‘Tunnel and tomb constructed by Osborne and Sons, Dwarf Contractors, Malpesa.’ ” The wizard was still laughing. “I’d wondered how our sick fellow had burrowed down from that grave. He hired dwarves to do the digging for him.”
“And he would’ve trusted them to keep his secret?” Michael asked, and immediately felt guilty for having said it.
“Oh, I doubt he conveyed the true nature of his secret, but in essence, yes. He would have trusted them. Dwarf builders are known for their discretion. There’s not a safe or vault in the magical world that wasn’t built by a dwarf. I’m surprised you don’t know that.”
“Well,” Michael said defensively, “you can’t expect one person to know everything about dwarves. There’s so much. You could learn everything about elves in a good twenty
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