Miasmora & Wisric's Grand Meridellian Misadventure

     Both of them had made copies of the transliterated version of the text on their torn Old Paper half, just in case they lost one. Isoldeia had been right--it seemed like gibberish to both of them.

     "Who is Caelric?" she asked.

     "The architect of Meridell Castle."

     Miasmora bristled. Wisric's smugness had crept back into his voice, as if she were supposed to have known the name of the ancient and probably long-Ghost Neopet that had designed Meridell Castle. He should be glad she knew what an architect was and--

     "Do you think he's who's down there?" she asked.

     "Probably." Wisric twisted his copy, as if examining the drawing from a different angle would shake all of its secrets out. His eyes locked with Miasmora's over the edge of the page, and he added, "No one knows what happened to him. He's not mentioned in any official records after he was paid for the castle plans. The latest known document with his name on it is a letter that was sent to the Haunted Woods, asking if the Brain Tree was aware of any old settlements that might have been constructed here."

     "Was that in code too?" Miasmora asked, hopeful. If there was something else written with Caelric's code, then maybe they could compare it to this text.

     "No."

     "Well, there goes that idea."

     Wisric raised an eyebrow at her.

     "Look, you're not the only one who has ideas."

     He laughed. "But I am the only one with good ones."

     Miasmora bristled again, but that playful note was back in his voice, and the prickliness she felt passed quickly. She wasn't quite sure she'd gotten over him letting her believe that the map might lead them to riches, and she certainly didn't think of him as the kind of friend who was allowed to tease her, but she had more important things to fill her thoughts with right now. Like what they were going to do if they couldn't crack this code.

     "Don't you think it's strange that he asked about that after he'd already been paid for the plans?"

     "Why would it be?" Wisric asked. "He was a renowned scholar." There was just a hint of reverence in the Spotted Ixi's voice. Miasmora wondered if he hadn't once wanted to follow in Caelric's footsteps, contribute something great to Meridell.

     "You'd think that if such a renowned scholar had a reason to believe there might have been Neopets living here before the castle was built, he would have investigated that before he drew up the plans. Makes you wonder, doesn't it, why he didn't ask before that?"

     "Huh." Wisric said. For a moment, he stood in an alcove they'd found, mostly out of the way of traffic in the Royal Wing. "So maybe he found something while the castle was being constructed that made him believe it was possible."

     Miasmora nodded. "Did he ever get an answer? From the Haunted Woods."

     "I don't think-- Wait."

     "We are not going to the Haunted Woods," Miasmora said.

     Wisric shook his head, peering past her into the corridor. "No, it's not that. I just--"

     "--had an idea?"

     "Naturally. Come on."

     "Where are we going?"

     "The library."

     ***

     Miasmora watched impatiently as Wisric reacquainted himself with Meridell Castle's library. He paced up and down the stacks, caressing the spines of the many leather-bound tomes the chamber contained. Twice, she was sure he'd leaned in close to smell one of the books.

     She did have to admit that the library had a pleasant odour. It was old, certainly, and a little musty--she didn't know exactly how long ago Wisric had been sent away, but based on the layer of dust that covered nearly every surface, she guessed it had been a few years, and King Skarl hadn't taken the time to find a replacement for him. That boded well for his hopes of getting his job back, she imagined--if he could clear his name. There was no new librarian to displace.

     "What are we doing in here?" she asked as he made his way back toward her. "Other than smelling the books, I mean."

     "I'm looking for something."

     "Okay, well, you know I have eyes too. If you tell me what you're looking for, I can help you find it."

     "I don't know what it is."

     "You. Don't know. What are you looking for?"

     "Not exactly, no."

     "Haven't you looked at every book in here already?"

     "At least once," Wisric replied, turning the end of the stack and moving back away from her down one he'd definitely explored a moment before.

     He really was insufferable.

     There was a small desk under the window at the far end of the room, equipped with a simple chair. Miasmora wasn't sure it would hold her weight--the wood looked rotted in the library's dim light--but she didn't have anything better to do while she waited for Wisric to figure out what he was looking for, or find it. She pulled the chair out from beneath the desk, and a rain of dirt cascaded down around it as the desk itself began to crumble.

     Something glittered in the fall of debris and landed on the ground with a soft clink. She pulled the chair farther back and bent down.

     There was a small gold key lying in the dust.

     "Wisric?" she called.

     He emerged from the stacks with his nose in an open book. She could have sworn he'd told her there weren't many here, and if this was his idea of not many books...

     "Hmm?" the Ixi said.

     "Did you know there was a key here?"

     His head snapped up. "Key?"

     "The kind that opens locks," she added quickly.

     "Hmm. Let me see it?"

     Miasmora picked up the key and brushed off the dirt. It bore the Meridellian crest, except there was something just the tiniest bit off about the design. Miasmora couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but Wisric seemed to recognise it instantly as soon as the key was in his hands.

     "This won't help us," he said, handing it back to her.

     "So you do know what it is?"

     "Sort of."

     The Skeith let out a long, slow breath and, for half a heartbeat, contemplated shouting for the guards again. Surely they would throw Wisric in the dungeons for her if they found him in his old office without King Skarl's express permission.

     Instead, she snatched the book out of his hands.

     "You are infuriating. I am trying to help you. Standing around while you half-answer my questions is infuriating. Tell me what we are doing here. Tell me what this key is. Tell me what is going on in your head, so that I'm not just standing around her waiting for the guards to find us!"

     "They're certainly going to find us if you keep raising your-- Okay. Right." Wisric cleared his throat. "It's just-- I'm not sure this is going to work, and I don't want to get your hopes up."

     "No, you don't want to be embarrassed if it doesn't work," Miasmora corrected. "I know you know-it-all types, being wrong is the worst thing that could ever happen to you."

     Wisric shrugged. "Could be both."

     "Key. Books. Explain. Now," Miasmora said.

     "The key goes to the old archive."

     "Isn't this the archive?"

     "This is the library."

     Miasmora stared at him. She gave a small shake of her head. "What's the difference?"

     "The Library has books. Archive has records."

     "Those are kept in books, presumably?"

     "Some of them." Wisric, for what seemed like the millionth time that day, sighed. "The library has books. Texts you might find in any library anywhere else in Neopia. History books. Science books. Books about things. The archive has records about taxes and land and titles and receipts for things bought by the castle and so on."

     Miasmora wasn't sure the distinction between history books and records of Meridellian lords and ladies was as clear as Wisric claimed, but she sort of understood. What she didn't understand was why Wisric only sort of knew what the archive key went to. She asked him.

     "I don't know where it is. I'm not sure anyone does."

     "That makes no sense."

     "Old archive," he said. "Records dating back to the founding of Meridell."

     "Isn't that exactly what you're looking for?"

     Wisric tilted his head to the side, thinking for a second. "I-- Well, sure. But no one knows where that archive is. I did try to find it. I spent half a year trying to figure it out when I first started. The information locked in there, if it can be salvaged, would be--"

     "I know who knows where it is," Miasmora said.

     "Nonsense."

     "I do," she insisted.

     "Fine. I'll play. Who?"

     "Caelric."

     Wisric's eyes grew wide. He pulled his copy of the transliterated Old Paper out of his pocket and studied it. "If this leads us to Caelric... If he's still around... We have to decode it."

     "Yes. We have to decode it."

     He started to turn away from her, headed back toward the stacks.

     "Wisric," Miasmora said.

     He stopped.

     "What are we looking for in here?"

     "A book that looks out of place."

     Miasmora swept her eyes over the chamber. "A book that looks like it doesn't belong...in a library?"

     "Yes."

     "How? You know what, never mind how. Why?"

     "I mentioned the letter Caelric sent to the Haunted Woods. It was one of the few things he wrote that wasn't in some sort of code. I was thinking about why that might be--he disappeared entirely from history shortly after he wrote that letter, so there's a chance that whatever he'd discovered is what led to... Well, whatever happened to him? So why leave that request in plain Meridellian, when he presumably sent less dangerous messages in code? The only reason I could think of is that he couldn't be sure the recipient of that letter would be able to decode it. Which makes me think the key to his code is something physical. Something the people he worked most closely with on the castle would have access to, but someone in the Haunted Woods probably wouldn't."

     "But you haven't found it yet, so it's probably not here."

     "I-- Yeah, I'd started to worry about that."

     "Are you sure it's a book?" Miasmora asked.

     "What else could it be?"

     She certainly didn't like that response. The odds that a book had survived in this neglected library for basically all of Meridell's history seemed impossible to her. And whatever Caelric used as the key to his code, it had to be older than the castle itself, because he'd been coding messages before the castle's construction began, according to Wisric. And the Old Paper had come out of the depths beneath the castle, far, far from this room. Wisric was probably right that it had to be some sort of text, but if they were looking for a specific copy of a specific book--she couldn't imagine having the kind of luck they'd need to find that after all this time.

     Miasmora looked around the room. There was a crest carved into one stone wall, and for a moment, she considered whether something like that could hold the key somehow. But no. The crest there couldn't be older than the castle, and this had to be.

     She wondered if her trying to think this through was a waste of time. Surely Wisric had already considered all these possibilities, and if he thought it was a book that could be found here, in this room, then--

     But what else could it be? Something the Neopets in the Haunted Woods wouldn't have.

     No, she thought suddenly. Something the Neopets in the Haunted Woods wouldn't know. Not back then, before Meridell had established itself. But that everyone in Meridell would know.

     Miasmora laughed. There was only one thing like that.

     "What?" Wisric asked.

     "It's The Mortog Princess. That's the key."

     "What?" Wisric asked again.

     "The faerie tale."

     "Yes, I'm familiar with--"

     "Everyone knows that story backward and forward. It hasn't changed in--probably forever. The Neopets Caelric was writing to wouldn't need to have a book lying around; the key they needed was in their heads. They'd only have to know how to use it." She grinned, triumphant. She'd beaten him. She'd solved this puzzle.

     "And we don't," Wisric said.

     Miasmora deflated. "I thought you could figure that part out."

     "I probably can, if I have enough time. But there aren't copies of faerie tales in--"

     "You don't know The Mortog Princess?"

     "Why would I know a faerie tale?"

     "You never had bedtime stories? You know what, never mind." Miasmora set the crumbled desk bits from the chair and finally sat down. It creaked beneath her weight, but, to her relief, didn't break. "Once upon a time," she started, settling into the chair, "there was a beautiful Zafara princess who lived..."

     Wisric scrambled for paper and ink.

To be continued…