A Million Roads to Nowhere

Curiosities to Behold

"What are we looking for exactly?" Patrick asks.

"Anything, I guess. I was fine at first but that dinner kind of creeped me out. I want to find dirt."

Patrick nods his head. "It was really uncomfortable."

"I liked Aithne. She seemed well enough. The whole magic thing is odd though."

"There's a library," Patrick says brightly after peeking into a room.

"That's immensely boring," Lena says but she follows him in anyway.

The shelves reach all the way to the ceiling, lined with stacks and stacks of books. Patrick notices many of the books are in other languages. Patrick flips through some books and soon Lena reluctantly tells him she's going to find her way back to her room.

"My eyes hurt," she says. "I'll try to sleep it off."

Patrick hugs her goodbye and decides to keep on exploring. He doesn't find any wildly interesting rooms, just a washroom, sleeping chambers, and the servant's quarters. One room filled with jars on shelves with various herbs and spices catches his interest, but he figures out it's just a pantry when he almost trips on a bag of dried beans. Bored, he leaves the pantry and continues down the hall. At the end of the hallway, there is a stairwell, which Patrick goes down tentatively. He walks down the spiral stairs until he reaches the floor, where a pungent odor fills his nose. It's colder and when Patrick's eyes adjust to the darkness, he realizes it's a dungeon.

Light flickers from an opening in the wall beside him and cautiously Patrick peeks inside. The room is lit up with candles, unlike the upstairs rooms and hallways which have torches lining the walls. The back half of the room is cut off by iron bars, indicating it is indeed a cell. The cells outside have nothing inside of them, but this one is filled to be more suitable for living. A bed, rug, and a table with a vase of blue flowers fill the room. An empty plate of food sits outside the feeding slot. On the bed a boy sits, who looks to be only a few years older than Patrick; perhaps in his mid-twenties. His head is down, focused on the book in his lap, and wavy golden hair falls to his collar bones. The man must sense another presence, because he looks up, revealing pretty brown eyes. A string necklace woven with crystals hangs around his neck.

Patrick ducks back behind the wall and he hears the man chuckle softly.

"Not supposed to be down here? Don't worry, I won't tell." He has the same gravelly accent as Morwenna, but his voice is kinder and set in a higher pitch.

Unsure, Patrick slinks into the room. The stranger smiles kindly at him, a slightly lopsided smile, which Patrick likes. Immediately he notices the air about him feels different than around Lena or Alistair or Aithne and the others. It's calmer, sort of like his mother's but without the worry.

"I haven't seen you before." The man's eyes look him over. "Where might you have come from?"

"Vertbank."

"Alistair's got a new apprentice then? How are you fairing?"

Patrick nods. "It's odd here. We've just arrived today."

"We?"

The stranger comes over and sits on the rug by the bars so Patrick follows and sits on the floor just opposite him.

"My friend, Lena."

"The old man hasn't had an apprentice in over two hundred years, nevertheless two at once."