…Anyway.
Caerwyn got us all the way back to the first room we'd found, the one we'd suddenly been locked into after Gilded opened the place, and waved his hand, parting the wall.
"It was very impressive that you managed to open it in the first place," he told Gilded as we passed through. "Of course, you wouldn't be able to bypass my wards though."
"Of course not," Gilded said morosely.
"There!" Gléonwon said, rushing outside.
We followed him, exiting the temple, walking around it, and entering the cave behind it. It was as tall and deep as I remembered. If it hadn't been for a corner Gléonwon pointed out to us, we probably wouldn't have noticed the dozens and dozens of books sitting there in neat rows.
Gilded extended a hand, likely to sense if there was any protective Magic on them that might attack us, then picked one up.
"Huh. They really have that seal," he said, then frowned. "I can read Korean, but not Chinese."
"I can read Chinese," Llewellyn said. "Give it here."
Wait, he could?
"You can?" I said.
"I spent a lot of time in Huayuan District with my mother as a child," he said, looking up at me. "And… after. Some of the elders there taught me."
Well, damn. Was there anything he couldn't do?
Besides… I couldn't believe there was still so much I didn't know about him, even though we were bonded.
I supposed this wasn't the time for that, but still.
I watched Llewellyn and Gilded go through the books, passing them back and forth.
What had Yoon Juhyung been doing up here with these books? That made no sense. Maybe King Eoghan had moved them here after Yoon Juhyung died? But… why? None of this added up.
Penguin chirped from my pocket. I looked down at him.
"I can grab one of the books if you want to see," I said, "but I can't read either language."
Penguin chirped again. Looked like he wanted me to take one anyway.
I pulled a book from the end of the nearest row and held it open flat so Penguin could see.
He hopped on it and walked across the pages the same way he'd gone through Tiernan's pile the other day, then stopped and chirped at me in complaint.
Okay, I could see his point. This book was all writing, with no images.
"I don't know what it says," I said. "I told you I can't read it."
Penguin chirped again, sulking.
"The dragon ones are over here!" Gléonwon called.
"Want to see those?" I asked, picking up Penguin and putting the book back. "Maybe those have pictures."
Penguin chirped.
Well then. Books on dragons it was.
The book Gléonwon picked out had full-page ink drawings. Penguin planted himself in the middle of a two-page spread, thrilled, while Gléonwon's head hovered over my shoulder, blocking half the light.
"Aren't they cool?" he said, excited. "So many different dragons!"
He was right; the drawings were impressive.
"This is wonderful!" Caerwyn said, poking his head out from behind me and giving me a heart attack. "Such exquisite detail, too. A true artist."
"You didn't draw this, right?" I asked him.
"Oh no," Caerwyn said. "I stick to sculptures. Much more satisfying."
"Do you think they might be based on your art, rather than actual dragons?"
Caerwyn plucked the book from me and performed some Magic on it. "No," he said after a moment. "None of these are based on my art."
Huh. Then what?
Across the cave, Gilded and Llewellyn kept trading volumes back and forth, arguing about handwriting.
Llewellyn had his sleeves pushed up and… um.
No, focus.
"System," I said. "About that translation skill?"
A System window popped up and I went through the System Shop quickly.
I selected one of the translation skills, activated it, then picked a random book, watching the text change in front of my eyes.
Damn, this was amazing.
Unfortunately, the book I'd picked up was just a treatise on Confucian values. I put it back and picked up another.
The catch was that the translation skill only lasted five minutes and had a ten-minute cooldown, which was incredibly annoying. Still. At least it was something.
With Penguin's help, I spent the cooldown time going through the books I couldn't read, trying to guess what was in there. It might have been slow work, but from the look of it, Llewellyn and Gilded weren't making much progress either.
After some time, something caught my eye but— What the hell?!
"Hey!" I called. "I found something!"
Both Llewellyn and Gilded looked up in my direction.
"What is it?" Llewellyn asked, moving closer.
I didn't even know how to explain what I was looking at.
The page I was staring at had a hand-drawn map of Innishae.
Under it, and over the next few pages, were a ton of annotations, with margin notes crammed into every bit of white space, sums that had been crossed out and redone, and little sketches of coastlines and of what, I assumed, were the Foundation Stones.
I frowned. Some of the sketches showed the Stones in different positions, with calculations beside each one. And… wait.
I looked back at the map. There were more calculations there, apparently working out the island's position in the Bay of Biscay.
What the hell?
I bent closer, reading as fast as I could before the translation cut out.
—
Twenty-third day of the ninth month. Clear skies. Wind from the west.
Returned to the temple to compare my earlier measurements.
I have measured the pole star again from the cliff above the harbor, with the instrument the shipwright was kind enough to lend me. For the fourth time, the reading does not agree with the charts kept in the palace.
I have checked the instrument and repeated the calculations, accounting for the difference between the pole star and the celestial pole. There must be an error somewhere, though I am beginning to suspect it lies in the charts themselves.
Eoghan and I spent much of yesterday evening examining the older maps in the royal collection. Unfortunately, determining which of them is most reliable has proved almost as difficult as taking the measurements myself. Several have been copied from earlier charts whose originals have disappeared. The oldest records already show the island, although their geographical measurements are considerably less precise.
What pleasure Eoghan's ingenious Magical Art has brought us! I can read the tomes in the library with nary a stumble! He can speak English and I Korean, yet we understand one another perfectly, even when our discussions become exceedingly complicated, and we have each started learning the other's language. His curiosity seems quite equal to my own, and there is scarcely an evening when we do not find some new subject to occupy us for hours. I find myself increasingly reluctant to bring our conversations to an end and part ways for the night. I wonder what anyone overhearing us would make of two young men conversing so earnestly in entirely different languages.
Eoghan suggested that, given how frequently I request access to the royal charts, he ought to reserve a permanent place for me in the library. I replied that I would accept such an arrangement gladly, provided His Majesty continued to join me in my research. He gave me a most pleased grin and assured me that something could be arranged.
Upon returning to my quarters that evening, I discovered that my belongings had been moved from the guest rooms on the lower floor to a chamber upstairs, conveniently situated near a staircase leading directly down to the library.
A most thoughtful arrangement! Though I was puzzled by the number of guards stationed along the passage.
Upon inquiry, I learned that the king had instructed his personal guards to extend their protection to me, as my new room was situated immediately beside his own.
I confess I was rather more pleased by this discovery than was proper.
One of his older ministers has already observed, within my hearing, that a king not yet thirty ought to keep more sensible company. Eoghan asked me afterward whether I considered myself sensible company. I told him I was eight-and-twenty and had no intention of becoming sensible for some years yet, and he laughed so hard that the guards came to see what was the matter.
Emboldened, I later asked whether His Majesty intended to supervise my studies more closely from now on. He replied that he saw little reason for our discussions to be confined to the library or our walks, and that he hoped I might join him in his quarters on those evenings when neither of us wished to part ways quite yet. I thought I detected a little color in his cheeks. I was so pleased by the invitation that it took me a moment to think of a suitable reply! I assured him that I should take his suggestion under serious consideration, beginning that very evening.
Ah, but I see that I have devoted rather more attention to His Majesty than to the maps! I must return to my inquiry.
I had hoped the older maps in the royal collection might also help me determine the age of the temple.
That question has become something of an obsession.
Eoghan tells me that the temple was built by Caerwyn himself, one of the ancient gods, who was apparently also responsible for the extraordinary sculptures within it. I have heard similar accounts from the people I have questioned, although they disagree about when the god lived, whether he ever departed, and whether anyone has actually seen him.
Yet the sculptures are remarkable!
I spent much of yesterday examining the reliefs, to Eoghan's considerable amusement. He accompanied me to the mountain and helped measure the larger sculptures, although he took an altogether excessive pleasure in discovering an error in one of my calculations.
Worse still, he was correct.
I demanded that he check his figures again, which he did, with an expression of such unbearable satisfaction that I nearly confiscated his measuring cord.
He has already proposed returning tomorrow. I suspect he enjoys these excursions rather more than he admits. I certainly do, although I must take greater care with my calculations in his presence!
As for the temple's age, the results are frustrating. Its construction appears to predate the architectural traditions I have encountered elsewhere on the island, yet I have found nothing that would allow me to establish when it was built. The weathering of the exterior, the workmanship of the statues, and the accounts preserved in the palace offer little agreement.
Even Eoghan cannot tell me how old it is, nor were his Magical Arts able to assist us or shed any light on the matter.
This has led me to a more troublesome question.
How old is the land itself?
The island's history is well documented in some respects and surprisingly uncertain in others. I have begun comparing the earliest accounts with the geography they describe, paying particular attention to the coastline, mountains, and harbors. I also intend to study the exposed rock along the northern cliffs.
Of course, the island may be vastly older than any surviving record. I cannot expect its age to be determined through historical investigation alone.
There is, however, another possibility I have been reluctant to entertain.
Eoghan has been teaching me the ancient Magical knowledge preserved by his royal bloodline. What astonishing possibilities this has revealed! Until recently, I regarded it chiefly as a matter of philosophical and cultural interest. I was delighted to discover that several of the exercises produced effects I could observe directly.
Since then, I have made considerable progress through my own experiments. Two notebooks are already full, and I can scarcely bear to leave my work long enough to sleep!
My latest experiments concern the chamber inside the mountain.
I have drawn the objects found there as accurately as possible and recorded their dimensions and positions. Their purpose remains unknown.
Most remarkable of all, I have begun to perceive something peculiar about the Magic surrounding the objects. I have encountered a similar quality near the temple and, to my great excitement, along the coast!
Repeated experiments have produced the same result.
Could the Magic within that chamber extend throughout the island?
Several rather astonishing possibilities have occurred to me. One is that the Magic surrounding the island was established deliberately, perhaps to preserve or protect it. Another is that it played some part in the island's original formation.
The latter would be an astonishing undertaking. The very thought makes me wish to return to the mountain immediately!
I have attempted to calculate the scale of such an undertaking, though my figures are scarcely credible. There is still so much I do not understand.
The platforms in the caves also confuse me greatly.
I have now become sufficiently proficient to perceive certain differences in the Magic present around me, and I have begun testing whether these observations can be repeated.
I must be careful in interpreting my results. My understanding is still developing, and I have yet to devise a satisfactory method of recording such observations independently of my own perception.
Nevertheless, I suspect that the objects in the chamber may hint at something extending far beyond the mountain.
Eoghan listened to my conjectures this evening with great enthusiasm, and has insisted upon accompanying me tomorrow. He has even offered to help with the more difficult measurements.
I shall gladly accept. He has a most inconvenient habit of noticing things I have overlooked, and I find our discussions far too enjoyable to refuse him.
If my suspicions prove correct, someone took extraordinary care in establishing this island.
I wonder who it was, and what they wished to protect.
Tomorrow, I intend to return to the mountain and continue my experiments.
—
There were a few extra paragraphs to that entry, but the translation skill had run out and the text had snapped back to the original.
Damn.
I stared at the page for a long second.
One, I couldn't believe this was somehow better than the fanfics I'd seen about them. If it ever came out that these journals existed, the shippers would lose their minds!
But more important, did he really just… I looked back at the previous sketches and notes, but I couldn't read them during cooldown. Damn it.
But was he really saying he suspected that Innishae was likely not a natural geological formation but had been... intentionally placed in the Bay of Biscay somehow?