The Unexpected Friendship Part 1

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The Secret They Carried
Elara had entered the abandoned factory expecting broken machinery, forgotten tools and perhaps a few rats. Finding two creatures who looked as though they had escaped from a nightmare had not been part of her plans. Yet here they stood, watching her with suspicion, curiosity and desperate hope. The taller creature had blue-grey skin, pointed ears and long, delicate fingers. His weathered robes looked centuries old. Beside him stood a smaller companion whose ears were almost as wide as his body. He clutched a rolled parchment and looked extremely pleased with himself. “Well,” Elara said, “this is more interesting than old furniture.” The little creature opened his mouth. His companion immediately placed a hand upon his shoulder. “We are not dangerous,” the tall creature said in a voice like dry leaves moving across stone. Elara raised an eyebrow. “That is exactly what something dangerous would say.” “An unfortunate truth. My name is Vael.” The smaller creature bounced. “And I am Pip! Keeper of the Third Map, Assistant Guardian of the Western Passage, Deputy Custodian of—” “Pip,” Vael interrupted. “We discussed introductions.” “You said to be polite.” “Briefly polite.” Pip considered this. “I am briefly Pip.” Elara laughed despite herself. “Elara. And I have no idea what a Third Map is.” “Excellent,” Pip announced. “Then you cannot have stolen it.” Vael closed his eyes. “We are making a remarkable impression.” Elara folded her arms. “Why are you hiding in an abandoned factory?” Vael opened his long fingers. An ancient brass key rested upon his palm. Delicate engravings covered its surface, and faint golden light moved beneath the metal. “We have been waiting,” he said. “For what?” “Someone who could hold this.” Elara stared. “A modest ambition.” “The last person who touched it disappeared,” Pip explained cheerfully. Vael looked at him. “That detail was meant to come later.” “Shall I pretend I haven't said it?” “Too late.” Elara stepped backwards. “You are making this sound inviting.” Vael lowered his hand. “The key does not harm those it accepts.” “And those it rejects?” “Usually nothing happens.” “Usually?” Pip became fascinated by a barrel. Elara sighed. “Wonderful.” Vael placed the key upon a wooden crate. “You may leave whenever you wish.” Elara glanced toward the entrance. Sunlight filtered through broken windows. Beyond the doors waited the ordinary world, where strangers rarely offered enchanted objects accompanied by questionable assurances. She could walk away. She even pictured herself returning home, making tea and explaining to nobody why her hands were shaking. But the creatures had not threatened her, and the taller one looked less like a monster than someone who had waited far too long for good news. Instead she stepped closer. “Why me?” “Because the key began glowing when you entered.” The engravings seemed to shift whenever she looked away. “And what does it open?” Pip climbed onto a rusty barrel and spread his parchment across it. The yellowed material contained no roads, mountains or landmarks. Only a circular symbol occupied its centre, surrounded by seven tiny marks. Elara recognised the design engraved into the key. “A map without places. How useful.” “It is very old,” Pip said. “Perhaps the places have moved.” “Places generally do not move.” “You have never visited the Wandering Library.” Vael cleared his throat. Pip covered his mouth. “Another secret?” Elara asked. “Several,” Vael admitted. “Pip has difficulty keeping them.” “Only the interesting ones,” Pip protested. Elara leaned closer. One of the seven marks was darker. “What does this mean?” “Seven passages were sealed when the First Door was closed,” Vael explained. “Each led somewhere that should no longer be reached.” “And you want to open one?” “We need to discover why one has begun opening by itself.” Pip stopped smiling. Elara noticed how tightly he held the parchment. Until now she had assumed the little creature found everything amusing. The sudden fear in his enormous eyes told her that this was no game. “Something is coming through?” Vael hesitated. “Something is trying to remember the way.” Water dripped from the ceiling. Its echo travelled strangely far through the factory. Elara looked toward the dark corridor. “How long have you been waiting?” “Long enough that the people who built this hall have become dust.” “And their grandchildren?” “Also dust.” Pip nodded. “We have seen considerable dust.” “You could have cleaned occasionally.” “I suggested that,” Pip said. “Vael claimed it would disturb the historical atmosphere.” “I said it might disturb the markings.” “You said both.” Vael lifted the key. “There is one way to learn whether it has chosen you.” Elara extended her hand. The moment she touched the brass, warmth spread through her palm.