Free The Huntsman's Amulet by Duncan M. Hamilton

much forgotten knowledge lay on the shelves, and perhaps also the answers to all of his questions.
    There were book-filled shelves everywhere. There was a central block of them splitting the room in two, and they lined the walls on three levels. Metal spiral staircases provided access to the two mezzanine levels, where windows were the only interruption to the rows of books. Shelves also extended out from the walls, creating bays in between, which were filled with desks and chairs. Hundreds could study there at any one time. It was much like the other libraries he had been in, but on a far larger scale.
    The windows filled the room with light, but there were also ornate chandeliers hanging from the vaulted roof, containing hundreds of small mage lamps that would have ensured work could continue there long after sunset.
    As he looked at the shelves on the three levels, packed with an array of different coloured book spines, the enormity of the task struck him and he wondered if the time he had until the Honest Christophe returned would allow him to scratch the surface of the information there.
    He set his pack down on the desk in one of the bays on the central block and began to look around, wondering where to begin. The one thing he could be certain of was that the purge had not reached this library; there were simply too many books. He did not know what value there was on those shelves in monetary terms, but he had no doubt that there were those who would pay handsomely for the secrets contained within.
    There was something about the prospect of that knowledge being out in the world once again that sent a shiver down his spine. All the secrets of the mages, good and malevolent alike. There was no doubting that he could use the money, but some things would never be worth it.
    The legends of a curse over the Isles were clearly successful at keeping treasure hunters and looters away, but if his presence there led to the sea route between the islands being reopened it would only be a matter of time before greed, desperation or ill luck led to someone making landfall and exploring the city, despite the fear and superstition surrounding it. It would not be long after that before someone managed to avoid the drones, or perhaps even destroy however many were left and all that forbidden knowledge would make its way out of this prison. Perhaps as a banneret, and the only one possessed of the same skills as the original bannerets, it was his responsibility to ensure that this knowledge was destroyed once and for all, as soon as he had found what he was looking for.
    He returned to the desk and began to lay his things out. First was a small mage lamp that he brought to allow him to continue working into the night, although it would clearly be redundant with all of the chandeliers above. Next, his parcels of dried food, a notebook, pen and ink. There seemed to be little reason to look for anywhere else to sleep. He would need to work every moment that he could, so he laid his blanket on the wooden floor beside the desk.
    He was about to begin exploring the shelves when he heard a sound at the far end of the library. He had bolted the doors shut after he had come in. Could a drone have gotten in by some other way? He drew his sword and dagger and peered out of his bay and down the aisle. He felt the slight tingling on his skin that often indicated the presence of large and unnatural concentrations of the energy that seemed to bring on the Gift. More than he would have expected from a single drone. More than he would expect from two. His heart raced as he waited for several drones to hover into view. For the second time that day he found himself in expectation of death.
    He stepped out of the bay as quietly as possible. Did drones respond to noise as they did voice commands? He slowly made his way down the left hand side of the aisle, crouched in a low fighting stance. He cautiously peered around each bookshelf before proceeding past until