Swords & Dark Magic: The New Sword and Sorcery

“Hardly your fault, Aspirant Bronzeclaw,” said Molnar. “You merely served as an involuntary projectile.”

Laszlo felt the exhilaration of the fight draining from him, and the familiar sensations of tired limbs and fresh bruises took its place. Everyone seemed able to stand on their own two feet, and everyone was a mess. Torn cloaks, slashed armor, bent scabbards, myriad cuts and welts—all of it under a thorough coating of black vocabuvore blood, still warm and sopping. Even Casimir—No, thought Laszlo, the bastard had done it again. He was as disgusting as anyone, but somewhere, between blinks, he’d reassumed his mantle of sly contentment.

“Nicely done, Laszlo,” said Astriza. “Personally, I’m glad Lev bowled me over. If I’d been on my feet when you offered to feed that thing new words, I’d have tried to punch your lights out. My compliments on fast thinking.”

“Agreed,” said Molnar. “That was the most singular entanglement I’ve seen in all my years of minding student book-return expeditions. All of you did fine work, fine work putting down a real threat.”

“And importing a fair amount of new disorder to the stacks,” said Yvette. Laszlo followed her gaze around the site of the battle. Between the sprawled tribe of slain vocabuvores, the rivers of blood, the haze of thaumaturgical smoke, and the smashed shelf, sixty-one Manticore Northwest looked worse than all of them put together.

“My report will describe the carnage as ‘regretfully unavoidable,’” said Master Molnar with a smile. “Besides, we’ve cleaned up messes before. Everything here will be back in place before the end of the day.”

Laszlo imagined that he could actually feel his spirits sag. Spend all day in here, cleaning up? Even with magic, it would take hours, and gods knew what else might jump them while they worked. Evidently, his face betrayed his feelings, for Molnar and Astriza laughed in unison.

“Though not because of anything you four will be doing,” said Molnar. “Putting a section back into operation after a major incident is Librarian’s work. You four are finished here. I believe you get the idea, and I’m passing you all.”

“But my book,” said Laszlo. “It—”

“There’ll be more aspirants tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. You’ve done your part,” said Molnar. “Aspirant Bronzeclaw’s suggestion is a sensible one, and I believe you deserve to carry it out as soon as possible. Retrieve your personal equipment, and let’s get back to daylight.”

If the blue-robed functionaries in the Manticore Index were alarmed to see the six of them return drenched in gore, they certainly didn’t show it. The aspirants tossed their book-satchels and lantern fragments aside, and began to loosen or remove gloves, neck-guards, cloaks, and amulets. Laszlo released some of the buckles on his cuirass and sighed with pleasure.

“Shall we meet in an hour?” said Lev. “At the eastern commons, after we’ve had a chance to, ah, thoroughly bathe?”

“Make it two,” said Yvette. “Your people don’t have any hair to deal with.”

“We were in there for four hours,” said Casimir, glancing at a wall clock. “I scarcely believe it.”

“Well, time slows down when everything around you is trying to kill you,” said Astriza. “Master Molnar, do you want me to put together a team to work on the mess in Manticore Northwest?”

“Yes, notify all the night staff. I’ll be back to lead it myself. I should only require a few hours.” He gestured at his left eye, now swollen shut. “I’ll be at the infirmary.”

“Of course. And the, ah…”

“Indeed.” Molnar sighed. “You don’t mind taking care of it, if—”

“Yes, if,” said Astriza. “I’ll take care of all the details. Get that eye looked at, sir.”

“We all leaving together?” said Yvette.

“I need to grab my impression device,” said Casimir, pointing to the glass niche that housed a focus for the index enchantments. “And, ah, study it for a few moments. You don’t need to wait around for my sake. I’ll meet you later.”

“Farewell, then,” said Lev. He and Yvette left the Manticore Index together.

“Well, my boys, you did some bold work in there,” said Molnar, staring at Laszlo and Casimir with his good eye. Suddenly he seemed much older to Laszlo, old and tired. “I would hope…that boldness and wisdom will always go hand in hand for the pair of you.”

“Thank you, Master Molnar,” said Casimir. “That’s very kind of you.”

Molnar seemed to wait an uncommon length of time before he nodded, but nod he did, and then he walked out of the room after Lev and Yvette.

“You staying too, Laz?” Casimir had peeled off his bloody gauntlets and rubbed his hands clean. “You don’t need to, really.”

“It’s okay,” said Laszlo, curious once again about Casimir’s pet project. “I can stand to be a reeking mess for a few extra minutes.”

“Suit yourself.”

While Casimir began to fiddle with his white crystal, Astriza conjured several documents out of letters that floated in the air before her. “You two take as long as you need,” she said distractedly. “I’ve got a pile of work orders to put together.”