The Legend of the Voronov
Part X
Great Barrier Desert, Voina Overworld
The library was easier to find than theyd dared hope. Shek and Lelos Somm imagined it was because Zathe had chosen to look where there were no people. After all, why look for a library in a technological paradise like the Voinian capital?
So theyd trudged through the Great Barrier for two days, walking, for all appearances, aimlessly. Yet they all felt a strange tug, a curious pull on them even as they walked into the Voinian nothingness. Theyd long since left the cracked, dry ground outside the polluted cityscape, the dried-up riverbeds of the great streams that had once been such fertile water for Voinian mythology. Theyd even crossed the Borb Mountains that marked the border of the Barrier. And then theyd walked across endless rock and soil and sand.
And so they had arrived at the library.
The only problem was, the library wasnt a library. There were endless bookshelves, but no books. Towering scroll racks, but no scrolls. There was nothing.
Zathe, the Prophets lied to us again.
No Shek, laughed Somm before Zathe could respond, they just read the trash wrong.
Zathe ignored them. He was too occupied looking at the northern wall of the structure.
It was completely bare. So it appeared to his eyes, and so it appeared to his touch. And the Sorucytes confirmed it; the surface was frictionless. He moved his hand across the wall, searching for any roughness, any marking at all.
There was nothing.
What is it, Zathe?
Again he did not respond. He walked across the hall to the southern wall, and repeated his test. Again nothing. And nothing again on the eastern wall. And on the western wall...
What is it?
There was a mark. Ever so slight, but it was noticeable. The one mark of roughness on the otherwise completely smooth surface. Zathe fell into a Durachi thought trance, communing with the Sorucytes.
Show me its essence, he asked them.
An image appeared in his mind: a glyph, at first unknown and then abundantly clear as to its origin.
What is it, Zathe?
He sent a surge of Sorucytes pulsing through his hand into the glyph. The wall dissolved, as if being decomposed on the molecular level by the millions of Sorucytes Zathe had sent at it. Soon the useful devices returned to his body through his outstretched hand. Before him lay an enormous hall.
On the floor, in a darkened corner in the hall, lay a single, green book.