Free The Rock of Ivanore by Laurisa White Reyes

hesitated—and the beast turned on him in a rage.”
    Here his father always curved his fingers as though they were claws and snarled like a wild animal. “One swipe and poor Tendall lay in pieces on the ground. The moment I saw him I knew what must be done. I flung myself upon the monster’s back and slit its throat with myknife. The other boys gave me the honor of bearing home the eye.”
    A turn, a sweep of the arm, a pushing out of the chest as he relived that moment of glory from so many years ago. Surely no less glory awaited his son if he were to return to Quendel with the mystery of the Rock of Ivanore solved and in his possession.
    But as his eyes blinked in the morning rays that escaped through the slats of the inn’s low roof, Jerrid knew that his chance at such glory had slipped from his fingers.
    Jerrid hurried down the stairs and through the dining hall where the innkeeper was just preparing the morning meal. He dashed out the front door and ran toward the town square. He was out of breath when he met Marcus walking toward him, shivering from the cold.
    â€œWhere is he?” demanded Jerrid, white wisps of warm breath curling up from his mouth and nose.
    Marcus drew his eyebrows together and breathed into his cupped hands. “Who?”
    â€œJayson! Has he gone?”
    Marcus nodded and continued past Jerrid into the inn. The smell of smoked ham and eggs wafted through the door. Jerrid’s stomach rumbled inside of him, but his thoughts were not on his hunger. He ran past the fountain and on to the edge of the village. He searched the horizon for the dark cloak, but he could see it nowhere. How long had Jayson been gone, he wondered. Minutes? Hours? And to where?
    Dokur!
    But Dokur was several days’ journey from Noam. If I leave now and travel quickly, Jerrid thought, I could catch up with Jayson by noon. But how could he coax Jayson to return with him to Quendel? And what if he was wrong?
    Jerrid shivered, and he realized that he had left the inn dressed only in his nightshirt. His feet, bare on the cobblestone, felt like blocks of ice. He would return to the inn, he decided. They had all agreed to pay a visit to the library, and Jerrid thought he just might find some useful information there. He would try to get more information from Marcus later. Then he’d leave—maybe while the other boys ate lunch. By the time they realized he was gone, he would be hours into his journey. The next time he’d see them would be as he greeted them on the day they returned empty-handed to Quendel.

Twenty
    he Noamish Library was the oldest and largest of its kind on the Isle of Imaness. It was the tallest building in Noam, tall enough for two full-grown men to stand on one another’s shoulders and still not touch the roof. The arched entryway was intricately carved with graceful curved markings—runes from a language unfamiliar to the boys.
    Tristan Tether put his nose up to the door and squinted. “I can’t make it out. Just a bunch of gibberish.”
    Jerrid Zwelger grabbed the scarf around Tristan’s neck and pulled him out of the way. He peered at the door, ignoring Tristan’s hostile glare. “It’s in the ancient tongue, that’s why!”
    â€œCan you read it?” asked Zody, hovering closely behind Jerrid.
    â€œWhat a stupid question. Of course I can’t!” said Jerrid. “None of us can. Only Zyll still knows how.”
    Clovis cleared his throat, and suddenly all eyes were on him. “His apprentice should be able to read it,” he said.
    Marcus felt his face grow flush. Kelvin, who was standing beside him, gave him a nudge. “Go on, apprentice,” he said. “Give it a try.”
    Marcus stepped up to the door and read the markings, slowly mouthing out the syllables. “ Inil camru obraith os belu .” As he struggled to think of the correct translation, he wished he had brought Xerxes with him