door, leaving the keys in the lock.
He lit a new lamp, pulled back the tapestry, climbed into the tunnel, and made his way underground to Oakenwood.
He emerged not far from Great Oak. Night had fallen. He knocked the dirt out of his socks and shoes, dusted down his clothes, and wiped his grimy face with his handkerchief.
“Bassan! What in the name of Ashenwood are you doing here?”
“Oh, Zossimo! You startled me. I went to find you in your office, saw the tapestry moving, and discovered a tunnel. It leads straight here from your laboratory, and the roots follow the tunnel, too, Zossimo, such roots! They glow, alive and green. It’s incredible!”
“It’s extremely dangerous for you to have come this way. There are parts of the island that no man should interfere with.”
“Oh, I understand that. I was worried about your safety, not mine. After all, you’re alone here. Why don’t we go into the greenhouse where it’s warmer?”
They entered the greenhouse next to the Oak and sat on a couple of upturned buckets just inside the door. Now it was too hot; the air was thick and moist, and Bassan began to sweat.
“Bassan, why did you come?”
“I wanted to talk to you. You know as well as I that the trees are special: these trees are more than alive. No one on this earth could imagine the treasure we have here. But, Zossimo, you carry this responsibility yourself. You are Legator and Librarian. It’s all too much. You’ve led us through the last fifteen years wonderfully, but the moment has come, you must agree, to share those responsibilities with those you trust—with me!”
“But I’m not sure I do trust you, Bassan.”
Bassan was speechless. How could Zossimo say this? Ten years he’d worked for the man!
“You know there are other master trees.”
“Yes, Zossimo, this is true.”
“Tell me something. You learned of the island’s master trees from the Almanagic a long time ago. Yet you’ve never asked me about them. Why’s that? You keep your thoughts and intentions hidden, I see. And those are stronger than any weapon.”
“Weapon? What are you saying? I mean you no harm. But what will the Albatorium think when they discover that you have also hidden what you’ve learned about the trees? Zossimo, it’s time to share your knowledge, at least with me. Let me take over the librarianship, and we will say nothing of the master trees to the Albatorium Session.”
“How can you contemplate speaking of this to the Session? You don’t even understand the matter yourself!”
“Where’s the master tree in the north? Why do the Aspen roots glow in such a fashion? Isn’t it true that the trees rule this island, not you?”
“These trees are intelligent, wise, yes. They communicate, and they have their own power. But any power can be used for good or evil by man, and if you pursue this any further, Bassan, you could put us all in terrible danger. I will not let you use the power of these trees for your own gain.”
“But it wouldn’t be for my own gain. We could work together. What a force we would be! Just imagine, with you as Legator and me as Librarian, we could rule the people and the trees and use our knowledge to control more than just this small island. You know there are other islands, don’t you? My father was convinced of it. Just think. People believe in the trees and their words. Through the trees we could command the islanders in any way we see fit, and they wouldn’t even realize we were doing it!”
“How would you do that? Lie to the people about what the trees say? Forge a few leaves to convince the Session to do your bidding? Or lie to the trees of our island? Threaten them, even? Hasn’t your apprenticeship taught you anything? Our trees are neither weak nor gullible, believe me!”
“Oh, Zossimo, come on! You can’t lie to a tree. After all, it’s only a tree!”
“You’re mad.” Zossimo got up and opened the door. What was he doing? Would he light the
He lit a new lamp, pulled back the tapestry, climbed into the tunnel, and made his way underground to Oakenwood.
He emerged not far from Great Oak. Night had fallen. He knocked the dirt out of his socks and shoes, dusted down his clothes, and wiped his grimy face with his handkerchief.
“Bassan! What in the name of Ashenwood are you doing here?”
“Oh, Zossimo! You startled me. I went to find you in your office, saw the tapestry moving, and discovered a tunnel. It leads straight here from your laboratory, and the roots follow the tunnel, too, Zossimo, such roots! They glow, alive and green. It’s incredible!”
“It’s extremely dangerous for you to have come this way. There are parts of the island that no man should interfere with.”
“Oh, I understand that. I was worried about your safety, not mine. After all, you’re alone here. Why don’t we go into the greenhouse where it’s warmer?”
They entered the greenhouse next to the Oak and sat on a couple of upturned buckets just inside the door. Now it was too hot; the air was thick and moist, and Bassan began to sweat.
“Bassan, why did you come?”
“I wanted to talk to you. You know as well as I that the trees are special: these trees are more than alive. No one on this earth could imagine the treasure we have here. But, Zossimo, you carry this responsibility yourself. You are Legator and Librarian. It’s all too much. You’ve led us through the last fifteen years wonderfully, but the moment has come, you must agree, to share those responsibilities with those you trust—with me!”
“But I’m not sure I do trust you, Bassan.”
Bassan was speechless. How could Zossimo say this? Ten years he’d worked for the man!
“You know there are other master trees.”
“Yes, Zossimo, this is true.”
“Tell me something. You learned of the island’s master trees from the Almanagic a long time ago. Yet you’ve never asked me about them. Why’s that? You keep your thoughts and intentions hidden, I see. And those are stronger than any weapon.”
“Weapon? What are you saying? I mean you no harm. But what will the Albatorium think when they discover that you have also hidden what you’ve learned about the trees? Zossimo, it’s time to share your knowledge, at least with me. Let me take over the librarianship, and we will say nothing of the master trees to the Albatorium Session.”
“How can you contemplate speaking of this to the Session? You don’t even understand the matter yourself!”
“Where’s the master tree in the north? Why do the Aspen roots glow in such a fashion? Isn’t it true that the trees rule this island, not you?”
“These trees are intelligent, wise, yes. They communicate, and they have their own power. But any power can be used for good or evil by man, and if you pursue this any further, Bassan, you could put us all in terrible danger. I will not let you use the power of these trees for your own gain.”
“But it wouldn’t be for my own gain. We could work together. What a force we would be! Just imagine, with you as Legator and me as Librarian, we could rule the people and the trees and use our knowledge to control more than just this small island. You know there are other islands, don’t you? My father was convinced of it. Just think. People believe in the trees and their words. Through the trees we could command the islanders in any way we see fit, and they wouldn’t even realize we were doing it!”
“How would you do that? Lie to the people about what the trees say? Forge a few leaves to convince the Session to do your bidding? Or lie to the trees of our island? Threaten them, even? Hasn’t your apprenticeship taught you anything? Our trees are neither weak nor gullible, believe me!”
“Oh, Zossimo, come on! You can’t lie to a tree. After all, it’s only a tree!”
“You’re mad.” Zossimo got up and opened the door. What was he doing? Would he light the
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