Page 68 of Validus Vale Academy 1
But actually, that brings up more questions than answers. Validus Vale, the school, is not down in a valley, but actually on top of a small rise. I head towards the help desk, feeling pretty pleased with myself.
The librarian, a thin man with glasses perched on the end of his nose, looks up as I approach. I give him a smile. “Hi, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of records that detail the school’s origins?” I ask.
He peers at me. “The school’s origins, you say? The student handbook already has a section covering that.” The librarian dismisses me and goes back to his work, which involves white cotton gloves and a battered manuscript.
I don’t feel like he wants to be pestered, but this research paper is going nowhere fast. “Um, sorry to be a pain, but I’m looking for deeper details. Like, what the topography of the land was likebeforethe school was built. I’m interested because of the name, you see.”
This time, the man looks up at me with more interest. “The name?”
I nod, pleased to have his attention. “Yes, you know, Validus Vale. It’s kinda contradictory, seeing as we are on a hill, not down in a valley, right?”
A genteel eyebrow is arched. “Well, I never, you’re quite correct. What’s your name, child?”
“Theo Wilson,” I answer. He looks me over and doesn’t sneer at my fashion choices, which is nice.
“I’m Archibald Quinlin, head librarian. It’s been a long time since a student piqued my interest with a question. Congratulations to you. Which class are you doing research for?”
I give him a grin, feeling flattered by his praise. “Professor Bilderblast’s Beginning History of Magic.”
“Oh, good. Bilderblast is a decent fellow. Now, my dear, here’s an important question: can I trust you in the restricted-access stacks? No eating or drinking in there, and white gloves at all times.”
I give him the most sincere and convincing face possible. “Absolutely.”
Mr. Quinlin opens his desk drawer and takes a large bunch of keys from inside. “In that case, step this way.”
Leading me through a door marked ‘Controlled Access Only’, we enter a completely separate library space. The air is immediately cooler. Blackout drapes are drawn across the windows, and the room is lit by bulbs that give off only a low level of light. Somewhere, a machine is buzzing, possibly circulating the air. Many of the books are not on shelves, but instead are laid out on tables, with a brand-new pair of white gloves next to each of them.
Archibald Quinlin stops before a section of leather-bound volumes, running a gentle, gloved hand along the spines. “Here are land surveys from the last few hundred years. They may be helpful.” He moves on to one of the tables. “And these are archives that pertain to Validus Vale's founding. These documents are quite fragile, Theo,” he says, giving me a stern look. “Handle them with the utmost care."
Finally, he moves to another document at the end of the room. This," he says with a quiver of reverence in his voice, "is the original charter for the academy. It details the rather controversial land acquisition, the initial architectural plans, and the like."
Mr. Quinlin looks down at the document for a moment more, then sighs. “I wish I could stay and research with you, but alas.”
“I’ll tell you everything I find,” I answer.
“Oh, please do, dear. Happy hunting.”
???
The language of the old tomes makes my brain hurt.
“Article III: Acquisition of Lands and Consecration Thereof,” I mutter to myself.
The Trustees, acting in accordance with the expressed wishes of the Founders…blah, blah, blah.
Reading between the lines, my understanding is that the World Magical Organization didn’t exactly buy the valley, but more commandeered it in 1452. The valley—originally called Claw’s Cradle—was a nexus of ancient ley lines, so builders leveled the land and hired an earth-whisperer to reorganize the flow of energy within the academy building.
I note down the term ‘earth whisperer’ as the sound of a door opening makes me sit up, and I realize how stiff I’ve become.
“Still at it, Miss Theo?” Mr. Quinlin asks with a smile. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to send you on your way. It’s nine pm.”
I can’t believe it’s so late. I quickly gather my things. “I haven’t made you stay late, have I?”
“Not at all, dear. I’m a night owl, so I usually take the later shifts. If you want my help, don’t come first thing in the morning.”
“Noted.” I thank him again profusely, and stuff all the notes into my bag. “I think I may have many questions for you over the next few days.”
“It will be my pleasure to hunt the answers with you,” Mr Quinlin smiles, like he really can’t think of anything more delightful. “Goodnight.”
