The Legend of Rinth Read online

  Stopping, I look back and see The Book of Libraries on the floor about thirty meters back. I must have dropped it when I ran across the last junction. I hesitate for a moment, and then – figuring that I can't leave empty-handed – I race back to grab the book. I drop to my knees as I reach the junction and gather The Book of Libraries up into my hands, and then I turn to get to my feet.

  Before I can get up, however, the bell rings again, and the whole library seems to shake for a moment. I reach out and steady myself against the nearest shelf, and then as the bell stops ringing I run back to the exit.

  Except somehow it's gone.

  I reach the end of the next aisle, but whereas a moment earlier this was the way out, now there's only another junction with more aisles leading off in every direction. I look around, trying to work out exactly how I made a mistake, and then I keep going in the hope that I simply didn't notice this particular junction. When I get to the next point, however, I find that there are still only more aisles spreading away. Clutching The Book of Libraries against my chest, and trying not to panic, I look all around and try to figure out which way I should go next.

  It's almost as if the library changed when the bell rang, as if all the aisles shifted and moved and now I'm trapped.

  Chapter Three

  “Hello?” I call out a couple of minutes later, as I walk along another aisle. “Um, excuse me, but can anyone hear me? I know you're closing now and, um, well, I'm still inside. Can you help me find my way out?”

  I stop at yet another junction and I listen for a reply, but all I hear is silence. I'm starting to worry that somehow I've ended up getting locked inside, although I tell myself that something like that simply isn't possible. There's no library in the world where the staff wouldn't do a quick sweep of the place at closing time, to make sure that there aren't any stragglers. Then again, as I try to pick another direction, I'm starting to think that this particular library might not be like any other that I've visited before.

  For one thing, it's so cold in here, I'm almost shivering. Have they already turned the heating off for the night?

  “Hello?” I say again, daring to raise my voice a little more than before, convinced that someone has to be able to hear me. “I'm really sorry to bother you, but I'm lost and I need help. I heard you ring the bell a while ago, but I can't seem to find my way out.”

  I wait, but there's still no reply. Is it possible that the staff have all gone home? I'm actually feeling a little teary-eyed as I imagine some stressed librarian rushing out the door and locking me in this place, even though I keep telling myself that nothing like that could really happen. I take my phone out, but there's still no signal, not even when I hold it up in the air. I wave the damn thing around for a moment, hoping to catch at least a bar, but finally I slip it away as I realize that I'm going to have to find some other way out of here.

  I still don't understand how I was near the exit one moment, and then it was gone the next. If only I hadn't run back to pick up this book, I could be out of here by now, but how was I to know that somehow the aisles would get rearranged? Or, rather, that I'd get totally disorientated somehow.

  Taking the left turn, I resume my wandering, still hoping that I'll eventually find a useful sign. After just a couple of steps, however, I stop and look down as I realize I can hear a scratching sound coming from one of the lower shelves. I immediately think back to the man I found a while ago, who seemed to be being eaten from behind by something that was hiding in the darkness of a shelf. I'd kinda managed to convince myself that the whole thing was some kind of trick, or maybe even a hallucination, but now the scratching sound is getting louder and I instinctively step back until I bump against the opposite set of shelves.

  Whatever's causing the sound, it seems to be moving slowly along the bottom shelf, and a moment later I hear a sudden grinding noise, almost as if something's cutting through wood. That noise ends after a few seconds, and the scratching resumes. This time, however, the scratching seems to be getting much further away. Finally, figuring that I need to prove to myself that nothing weird is happening here, I crouch down to take a look.

  There's nothing on the shelf, thankfully, but after a moment I see that the back section – above the books – has been cut open, as if something burrowed through the wood on its way out of the shelf.

  I stand back up.

  No.

  I am not going to let my imagination run out of control.

  Taking a deep breath, I decide that I need to come up with a proper plan, and that I then need to stick to whatever I decide. I kinda realized earlier that my best bet would be to walk in a straight line, no matter what. Even if I end up going in the wrong direction, I'll eventually reach the library's back wall, and then I should be able to make my way around the edges until I get to the front. I've lost track of which way's which, so I pick a direction at random and set off, and I tell myself that this time I absolutely will not change my course, not for anything.

  As I walk, however, I can't help noticing that the air around me is getting colder and colder, and then I stop as I feel my feet crunching against something loose on the ground. Sure enough, when I look down, I see what appears to be a load of dirt that's been left on the floor. I guess the librarians around here don't have a lot of time for cleaning, and when I look ahead I realize that there seem to be no more lights in the distance. It's as if I'm heading into a completely dark part of the library.

  I turn to go a different way, before remembering that I specifically decided that I wouldn't change direction for any reason. Still, that was before the lights went away, and I really don't like the idea of walking into nothingness. Figuring that this will be my very last chance of direction, I turn and head to the next junction, and I opt to turn right as I take my phone out and once again try to pick up some signal. I refuse to believe that I'm stuck in this place until morning, and I'm already starting to worry about Mum and Dad. When I left the house, I didn't tell anyone where I was going.

  If Mum and Dad get home before me, and they find out that I lied and headed out, I'm in for a world of trouble. I mean, it's not like they can ground me, because I prefer being in my room anyway. And I actually like the taste of bread and butter, so their punishment options are limited. They'll find other ways to make me pay, though, that's for sure, no matter how much I try to make them understand that I really needed this book.

  Suddenly a howl rings out, loud and close, and I freeze. Is that a wolf? Why is there a wolf in the library? Actually, as the sound continues, it sounds less like a wolf and more like something that's in pain, and a moment later I hear a second, separate howl, this one seemingly much more angry.

  Before I have time to react, a loud thud rings out, causing the floor to shudder beneath my feet. For the second time in as many minutes, I turn and retreat, figuring that I need to pick yet another new direction. The howls are continuing, however, and it sounds as if two wolves are getting into a fight. I guess I can imagine some very unlikely ways in which wolves would get into a library in the heart of London, but right now all I can think about is the fact that I need to get out of here as fast as I can.

  The howling intensifies, as if the wolves are engaged in an almighty fight. I start jogging back the way I came, and then I take the next left turn in the hope that this time I might actually find my way back to the reception area. I can't help looking over my shoulder to make sure that I'm not being followed, and finally I step around another corner and stop for a moment to get my breath back.

  Man, I'm out of shape.

  For a moment, I listen to the sound of the fight. It really seems as if two wolves are tearing each other apart, although I'm starting to hear a few whimpers of pain added into the mix. I guess one of the wolves is starting to win out over its opponent, which is pretty sad, but right now I'm focused on trying to figure out how best to avoid a pair of crazy, bloodthirsty monsters. Do wolves really hunt humans in the middle of London? Is that what's going to ha
ppen here? Will the librarians come to open up in the morning, only to find my savaged remains torn apart and left strewn between the shelves? What will my parents say when they find out how I died? Will I be weirdly internet famous? Will there be a Wikipedia listing for me, in the 'unusual deaths of the year' category? Will people trade photos of my bloodied corpse on illicit deep web sites?

  Raising my umbrella, I tell myself that – if push comes to shove – I can use it as a deadly weapon.

  Taking another deep breath, I try to calm down as the wolves' cries start to subside just a little. Whatever their fight was about, it seems to be coming to an end now, and I can only hope that they don't find me very interesting.

  I start walking again, heading along another aisle and telling myself that this time I refuse to be stopped. I must be really panicking and not thinking clearly, because I'm sure that in normal circumstances I'd have found my way out by now. It's not like me to get lost, and I'm starting to think that I must really not be thinking clearly. Why couldn't I just have stayed at home tonight and found a phone number for this library in the morning? Why did I have to rush down here like it was a matter of life and death? As much as I desperately want to pore over every page of The Book of Libraries, I think maybe just maybe I let my enthusiasm get the better of me.

  “Stupid book,” I mutter under my breath as I traipse along the aisle. “Nothing but -”

  “Stupid book?” a voice asks suddenly.

  Startled, I stop and spin around, but there's no sign of anyone nearby. My heart is absolutely pounding with shock, although it takes me a moment to even think about replying.

  “Who's there?” I ask.

  “Who's where?” the voice replies. “I'm only -”

  Before it can finish, the voice is interrupted by a very loud sneeze.

  “Excuse me,” he continues, “I have a rather unfortunate allergy to the droppings of the common paperlouse, and those things are all over the place in this part of the library. They're even -”

  He sneezes again, but I still can't actually see him. I think he must be in the next aisle.

  “There I go again,” he says with a sigh. “I'm sorry, but I must get going. The others will be wondering where I am.”

  “Wait, I'm lost!” I call out, relieved that at last I've found someone. “Do you work here? Are you a librarian?”

  “A librarian?” I think I hear him chuckle. “No, of course not. I don't know where you'd find one of those anymore. They died out a very long time ago in this neck of the woods, unless you believe some of the more salacious rumors. Which, by the way, I don't.”

  “I just need to get out of here,” I reply, figuring that I can try to figure out exactly what he meant later. “Can you tell me the way?”

  “That depends where you want to go.”

  “I just want to find the exit,” I tell him. “And the issuing desk, I guess, if it's still open. I found it once, but then it was gone. I know that probably doesn't make sense, but it's true. I mean, I was lost before, but after they rang that bell I was even more -”

  “Someone rang a bell?”

  “A closing bell. To say that the library was closing.”

  “You mean -”

  I wait, but now the voice has fallen silent.

  “What's wrong?” I ask.

  “Well, nothing,” he replies. “At least, not for me, but I'm afraid you might be in a bit of a jam. If a bell was rung to mark a closing, that means you simply can't go back the way you came. Not now, and maybe not ever.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That's what the bells mean,” he explains, somewhat confusingly. “As far as I understand, anyway. That route, whatever it was and wherever it led from, won't open again for a very long time. If it ever opens again at all. Not unless you can find someone who's able to force it open.”

  “I only want to get to the entrance,” I reply.

  “I thought it was the exit you were looking for?”

  “They're the same thing,” I point out, starting to feel a little flustered. “I'm sorry, but it's getting late, and I'm cold, and I have to get home. I don't mean to bother you, but if you can just tell me which way to go, I'll be totally grateful. Preferably a route that doesn't involve going near some of the weird sounds I've heard tonight.”

  “I'm really very sorry,” the voice replies, “but it seems very much as if the path you took here is a path that you can't follow again. I suppose you could hang around and hope that maybe that maybe you have a stroke of luck, but you could end up being very old indeed by the time that happens. Even then, there are no guarantees.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about,” I say with a sigh.

  Another sneeze fills the air, even louder than before.

  “I'm sorry,” the voice continues, “but there are simply far too many of these paperlouse monstrosities around here. I have to go. But if you want my advice, don't be one of those poor unfortunate souls who linger near the spot where they entered the library and end up just dying in the dirt. Go and see what you can find out there, because that's really the only -”

  He sneezes yet again.

  “It's really the only chance you have,” he adds. “Oh, and one more little piece of advice. Never let anyone hear you utter offensive phrases such as 'stupid book'. The books are your friends and you might need them on your side later on. You'll be massively disadvantaged if you find yourself having to win them over at a time of great distress.”

  I wait for him to explain more, but after a moment I realize I can hear the sound of footsteps hurrying away.

  “Hey, wait!” I yell, racing along the aisle and round to the next one, hoping to catch sight of the strange person, only to be faced with a completely empty aisle.

  Determined to catch up to him, I run to the next junction, but there's still no sign of him.

  “Wait!” I shout again, this time cupping my hands around my mouth in a desperate attempt to be heard. I no longer care about keeping my voice down. “I need your help! I still don't know how to get out of here! Please, you can't just leave me here like this!”

  I listen out for any hint of his return, but a moment later I spin around as I hear a wolf howling in the distance. Suddenly this library seems way more threatening than ever before, and as I look along the dark aisle toward the void at the far end I can't help feeling as if maybe I'm being watched. I glance around, looking for some hint of movement, but finally I force myself to accept that there's nobody else here. Whoever I just spoke to, he seems to have scampered off at great pace, and I'm honestly no better off, even after listening to all his supposed advice.

  “Come on!” I say angrily, as tears fill my eyes. “This isn't fair!”

  Turning, I feel my rage starting to build, and finally I kick the end of the nearest set of shelves. As I do so, the wood shudders slightly and a strange gray dust falls from the grain, coating the end of my shoe. I go to kick it off, only to freeze when I see that the dust seems to be wriggling.

  Leaning down, I'm horrified to see hundreds, maybe thousands of tiny little mites are crawling all over the tip of my shoe, and after a moment I realize that they're starting to gnaw through the leather. Feeling some of them wriggling inside, I let out a shocked cry as I kick the shoe off, and then I watch as the damn little mites get to work eating the whole thing.

  “Are you kidding me?” I stammer, too stunned to even know how to react, before looking down and seeing that at least none of them seem to have started eating the sock on my right foot.

  I take a step back, which is kind of awkward now that I only have one shoe, and I can't help but notice how rough the floor feels in this part of the library. The lighting is so dim, it's hard to see too much, but when I crouch down I find that the floor is no longer made of wooden boards; instead, I'm standing on harsh, rocky ground. There are even a few weeds growing in gaps at the bottom of the shelves.

  “What's wrong with this place?” I whisper as I try to regai
n some sense of direction. “Is this a library or a... a...”

  I don't quite know how to complete that sentence, but one thing's for sure: I really think that this place is beyond weird. For one thing, it's obviously so much larger than it seemed from the outside, stretching out to what seem like impossible dimensions. For another, I've so far encountered some pretty strange and horrific sights, and I can't quite believe that a place like this is allowed to exist anywhere in the world, let alone in the middle of twenty-first century London. At the back of my mind, I still can't quite let go of the idea that maybe this is all a trick, that I've accidentally stumbled into the back end of one of those escape room places. Or did someone sign me up to be in some weird reality TV show?

  I take my phone out and check once again for signal, even though I already know I won't have any luck. Sure enough, I have no service whatsoever in this place.

  And then, just as I lower my phone and try to think of some other way to call for help, I realize I can hear a snarling sound coming from somewhere nearby. I tell myself that I'm wrong, that I'm just imagining things, but then I slowly turn around and see that something's moving along the far end of the aisle. Sure enough, a couple of books get knocked from one of the shelves, and I take a step back as I see that a large creature is slowly crawling along the aisle, shrouded in darkness but watching me with two large, red eyes. From the way it's moving, I'm pretty sure this thing is hunting me.

  I turn and hurry around the next corner, and then I stop and listen.

  For a few seconds, I hear nothing out of the ordinary, but then the snarling returns. It's getting closer, and after a moment I realize I can also hear a frantic sniffing sound interspersed between the snarls.

  Panicked, I run along the aisle and around another corner, and then along yet another aisle. I don't really know exactly where I'm going, I only know that I need to get to safety, so I take several more turns and run along a couple more aisles before finally I dare to stop and look back again.