Free The Rock of Ivanore by Laurisa White Reyes Page A

to help instead of leaving the walking stick in his room. Remember your studies, he thought to himself. Remember the tomes of the ancients!
    He closed his eyes and tried to picture in his mind the characters scrawled on the brittle, yellow pages of Zyll’s books. He had often taken them from the shelves, blown dust from their covers, and laid them on the table to read. It was true that Marcus had found the study of language dull, but now he wished that he had seen the value in it.
    He opened his eyes and read the words once more. As he gazed at the letters, it was as if they transformed themselves before his eyes. “Your quest,” he read slowly, “begins behind these doors.”
    He was quite pleased with himself and waited for the praise he felt he deserved, but no thanks or appreciation was offered.
    Marcus reached forward and gave the door a gentle shove. It opened as easily as if it were a curtain of silk, opening on silent hinges. As he stepped over the threshold, he felt as though he were entering a new world. Shelves laden with books and scrolls reached floor to ceiling. The smell of dust and leather let off an acrid perfume. There were no windows. The only light in the room emanated from oil lamps suspended from the high wooden beams crossing it above.
    Directly in front of them stood a tall desk made of dark wood. From it, a lean, pointy-faced man glared down at them over the rims of his silver spectacles.
    â€œNot open!” he screeched in a forced whisper. “Not open today!”
    Â Â â€œThe door was unlocked,” Marcus stammered. “We’ve come to find—”
    The librarian shook a long bony finger in the direction of the door. “Can’t you read?”
    â€œYes,” answered Marcus. “But—”
    The librarian leaned over the desk and eyed Marcus with obvious contempt. “If you can read you should have known we are closed today, for I put the sign up myself.”
    This time it was Kelvin who responded. “There’s no sign on the door but the one engraved on it.”
    â€œWhat! No sign?”
    The librarian climbed down from his perch and hobbled over to the door. He stepped outside and glanced at the door. He returned to the desk, grumbling. “I put up that sign myself! Someone has stolen it! Very well,” he said, “but make it quick! I have a luncheon at noon.”
    Marcus and the other boys craned their necks as they took in the vastness of the library. With so many volumes to choose from, how would they ever find what they were looking for, especially since they didn’t really know what they were looking for?
    The librarian seemed to sense their confusion. Once again he got down from the desk. He started up a narrow aisle and motioned for the boys to follow. “What’s your topic?” he asked curtly. His voice sliced through the cavernous room like a hatchet.
    â€œThe Rock of Ivanore,” answered Marcus.
    The librarian turned and scrutinized them through narrowed eyes.
    â€œWhat do you want with her?” he said suspiciously.
    â€œHer?” asked the boys, bewildered. Marcus felt as though the secret he bore must be evident on his face, but no one looked at him.
    The librarian continued. “What do you want with Ivanore?”
    Kelvin spoke for the group. “We are on a quest to find the Rock of Ivanore,” he said, “only we don’t know where to find it.”
    â€œI’ve never heard of a rock of Ivanore,” continued the librarian. “But there isn’t a soul in these parts that doesn’t know of Lady Ivanore.”
    â€œLady?”
    The librarian started down the aisle again. He turned one corner and another. Finally the librarian stopped beside a wide table made of the same dark wood as his desk and polished to a high sheen.
    â€œWait here,” he said and disappeared down another aisle. Several minutes passed before he returned bearing a large