The Robin And The Kestrel

Gwyna might be skilled at picking pockets, but he was a Master of Library Locks.

It was a matter of heartbeats with the help of a long, slender wire and a bit of wood. The lock fell open, and the door swung inward.

To his relief, there were more of those tiny vigil-lamps burning here; they would not have to work blind. As Gwyna closed the door behind him, softly, he studied the bookshelves, and suddenly realized with dismay that he had no idea where in all of this to start!

There were hundreds of books in here, not the mere two or three dozen he had expected! Bookshelves filled the room, reaching from floor to ceiling, and all of the shelves were full. If they were cataloged in any way, he didn't know what it was. The key to all this probably resided in the Librarian's head_

As he gazed at the wealth of books in an agony of despair, he shoved his hands down into the pockets of his breeches_and encountered a small, hard lump wrapped in silk.

The pendant!

In a heartbeat, Talaysen's lessons on the laws of magic flashed into his mind. What once was one is always connected. Things that are related are connected. Things that are similar are connected_

It was the second law that he needed to use now. Things that were related were connected, and under the proper circumstances, they would attract or resonate with each other. Since the pendant had something to do with the Ghost, it followed that the pendant could lead him to something else that related to the Ghost.

He hoped.

As Gwyna watched him curiously, he took the pendant out of its silk wrapping, wincing a little at the discordant 'music,' and held it in his hands, tuning his mind to find more of the same 'music.'

There was music of various sorts all around him; many, many of these volumes had something to do with magic. Some of it was pleasant; some absolutely entrancing, the kind he could get lost inside for hours.

But he didn't have hours, and he wasn't looking for anything pleasant.

Then he heard it; a thin, evil trickle that could not by any stretch of the imagination be called a melody. A discordance of which the pendant was only a small part.

He turned and followed it; it led him to a panel on the back wall, to one side of one of the enormous bookcases. It was a panel like many others in the room, but when he tapped it slightly, he thought it sounded hollow.

The only trouble was, he couldn't open it.

He tried everything he could think of; pressed anything that looked like it might be a release, and all to no avail. Gwyna took her turn at it, but her skill was not in this, and she was no more successful than he was.

He was about to make another attempt, this time at forcing the panel open, when he felt a presence behind him.

He turned; Gwyna whirled at the same instant.

Brother Reymond stared at them in dumb shock, his mouth agape with surprise.

Robin didn't wait to see what he'd do; she muffled his mouth with both hands, as Kestrel grabbed his arms. Together they wrestled him around and stuffed him in a corner.

He looked at her; she looked back at him. 'Now what?' she mouthed at him.

He shrugged. 'We t-try to convince him,' he whispered back, then looked into the frightened eyes of the Brother.

Robin only rolled her eyes skyward, and tightened her hold on Brother Reymond's mouth.

Afterwards, Jonny wasn't certain how long it took him to convince Reymond simply to stay quiet until he had heard them out. It felt like forever, and he was certain that Robin's arms were aching with strain by the time Reymond nodded a frightened agreement.

Things went a little faster, after that. She told him in detail about the Skull Hill Ghost, and the curious