Journey to the Library [The Library Saga] Page 6

  "This is ridiculous," Ana mutters.

  "I'm not sitting anywhere near that woman," Bomrag grumbles, with a look of scorn in his eyes. He turns to Carstairs. "And if you think you're getting your fee -"

  "I'll halve my fee," Carstairs says, interrupting him, "and if you're at all dissatisfied, I'll reimburse you ten times the agreed amount in pure gold."

  Bomrag stares at him for a moment. "You're quite mad," he says eventually. "You know that, don't you? All this talk of magic is completely irrelevant. All I asked you to do was to find me a woman who'd consent to be my wife. The task didn't require magic."

  "No," Ana says, "but it'd require a miracle to find someone who'd be willing to settle down with you. My God, man, look at you. If anything, you're more filthy and disgusting than ever."

  "Please," Carstairs says, maintaining an air of calculated calm. "Just sit in these two ordinary, unremarkable wooden chairs, and I guarantee that in a few hours' time, you'll be happily planning your wedding."

  "Fine," Ana says, plonking herself on one of the chairs, before moving it half a meter back. "This is as close as I'm willing to get to him, though. The man stinks like a pig."

  "This is ridiculous," Bomrag replies, sitting in the other chair.

  "Okay," Carstairs continues, opening the little gold-laced pouch and pouring out some of the dirt I saw him collect earlier. Stepping over to Bomrag, he delicately sprinkles the filthy soil over the man's head, before walking over to Ana and doing the same. "This is pure magic," he explains, despite his subjects' obvious skepticism, "and it's more powerful than anything either of you have ever experienced before. It's not just a love potion. It's far, far more powerful, and it has never, ever failed. Not even once."

  "Fool," Ana mutters.

  "There's no such thing as magic," Bomrag says with a sneer. "Only a man with a simple mind would believe in such a ludicrous proposition."

  "We'll see," Carstairs replies calmly. "For now, I merely ask that the pair of you sit and wait as the magic takes effect."

  "For how long?" Bomrag asks.

  "It can take up to twenty-four hours -"

  "Twenty-four hours?" Ana shouts. "I'm not sitting here, staring at that man's ugly mug for a whole day!"

  "It can take up to twenty-four hours," Carstairs continues, "but in most cases, it works in less than six. I merely ask that you give it two or three hours, and if you experience no improvement after that time, we shall call it a day and I shall reimburse Mr. Bomrag handsomely. And I shall reimburse you too, Ana, as well as personally transporting you back to any place in the Library where you wish to start a new life."

  "Madman," Ana mutters.

  "Fool," Bomrag adds.

  "And now," Carstairs continues, putting a hand on my shoulder, "my assistant and I shall withdraw for a short period and allow the magic to get started. Please, ensure that you continue to stare at one another, and do not speak. This particular type of magic works best in utter silence."

  Sighing, Bomrag folds his arms, while Ana takes a deep breath, but they continue to watch one another, sitting just a couple of meters apart.

  "Come on," Carstairs whispers, leading me back along the aisle. "We'll come and check up on them in a while."

  "That wasn't magic," I whisper back to him. "I saw you pick that dirt up earlier."

  "It sounds to me," Carstairs replies, "that you have a very limited concept of magic."

  "It was dirt!" I point out as we go round the corner into another aisle.

  "But if it works," he continues, with a smile, "will you acknowledge that my magic is real? If we return in a few hours' time and those two lovebirds are truly, madly and deeply in love with one another, will you accept that this is magic?"

  Staring at him, I can't work out if he's totally mad or totally brilliant, and finally I start to realize that he might be both at the same time. Either that, or he's just very good at faking the whole thing.

  "Come on," he says, patting me on the shoulder, "we've got a few hours to kill before we come back and check on the lovebirds. Fortunately, we're in a library, and it's never too hard to kill time in a library." Reaching out, he grabs a book from the nearby shelf and takes a look at the cover. "A History of the Re-Use of Graves in Eighteenth Century England, by C.A. Preddle. Fascinating stuff!" And with that, he sits down on the floor and starts reading, leaving me to glance each way along the aisle before grabbing a book for myself.

  Alice Never

  "Don't kill us!" Table shouts, with tears in her eyes as she kneels before the shelf and looks up at the beast. She points straight toward me. "It was all her idea! If you have to kill someone, kill her, but just let me live! Please! She untied me! I tried to stop her!"

  "Cheers," I mutter, glancing at her before looking back up at the beast. "So you're the alarm, huh?" I ask after a moment. "Don't take this personally, but you don't seem very... alarming."

  It's true. The beast, and I'm using the word advisedly, actually seems to be little more than an elf in a box. From what I can see of him, he appears to be only about half a meter tall, although it's difficult to be sure since he's bent over, having apparently been stuffed into a small box with metal bars for walls, like a tiny jail cell. He's so cramped in there, however, that his legs are sticking out from either side, which allows him to waddle along, while his hands clutch the bars and he peers out from inside the box.

  "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't devour you both immediately," he says, inching closer to the edge of the shelf as he peers down at us.

  "Because you're in a box?" I point out.

  "She made me do this," Table says, getting up and hurrying back over to the wooden board I removed from her back. Frantically, she pulls it back on, before turning to me with a shocked look in her eyes. "Please!" she hisses. "Put it back before they realize I moved! Alice, can you tie the rope back around my waist before the alarm kills you? As a favor?"

  "This is ridiculous," I say, looking back up at the beast in the box. "What are you gonna do? Jump on me?"

  "I might," he replies, sounding a little annoyed. "Are you prepared to take that risk?"

  "Pretty much."

  "Then more fool you," he says with a grin. "You've just made the last and biggest mistake of your miserable life!"

  I take a step back, but nothing actually happens.

  "Well?" I ask.

  "Well what?"

  "Wasn't that supposed to be your cue to leap on me and attack me or... something?"

  "And give up the element of surprise?"

  "You're in a small box," I point out. "Can you even get out of that thing?"

  "Why would I want to get out?" he asks with a frown.

  "Who put you in there?" I ask. "And why?"

  "No-one put me in here," he replies. "I'm not 'in' anywhere. You're the one who's behind bars!"

  "No," I say, unable to suppress a faint smile, "you're the one who's in a box, surrounded by bars."

  "That's where you're wrong," he says confidently. "I can see perfectly clearly that you are behind a set of iron bars." As if to prove his point, he flicks one of the bars on his little cage. "See? What are these, if they're not bars?"

  "They're bars alright," I reply, "but you're the one who's behind them."

  "On the contrary, from where I'm crouching, you're the one behind them."

  "Can someone tie me back up please?" Table asks. "Please? Before the recyclers come back."

  Sighing, I start to realize that there's no point trying to reason with these two idiots. They're clearly so far beyond the edge of sanity, I couldn't pull them back even if I tried; they're part of this bizarre, insane world that I've somehow managed to stumble into, and I could stand here for the rest of my life trying to discuss matters with them, and I still wouldn't get anywhere.

  "You know what?" I say. "Forget it. I have to go and find my parents, so you two can just carry on with whatever you want to do, and I'll be on my way." I look over at Table. "I'm sorry I tried to save you
from being a piece of furniture. I'm sure they'll tie you back up when they return." Glancing up at the boxed elf, I can't help but sigh again. "And I'm sorry you think I'm the one who's behind bars. I guess you're going to stay here and keep an eye on Table, which is fine by me. I'll find my own way back to... somewhere."

  With that, I turn and start walking along the aisle. Even though I have no idea where I'm going, I'm convinced that I need to get the hell away from these crazy people. So far, I've only been in this place for a few hours, but I've already been mistaken for a plant, and then turned into a table, and then confronted by an elf in a box who thinks that I'm the one behind bars. Added to all that, I appear to be in some kind of vast, open-air library aisle, and there's no sign of the snow that blanketed the area around the car crash.

  "Hello?" I call out as I reach an intersection. "Mum? Dad?" I look both ways, but all I see are more shelves stretching to the horizon. Wherever this library place is, it's huge. In fact, I don't think I've ever heard of such a massive library, especially not one that's outside and doesn't have a roof. I didn't always pay attention at school, but I'm sure I'd have heard of a place like this before. "Thomas?" I shout.

  Silence.

  After a moment, a cool breeze blows past me, and I start to realize that the sky looks darker than before. If I didn't know better, I'd think that the sun is starting to go down, and if there's one thing less appealing than being lost in this huge library, it's being lost in this huge library at night. Besides, it's getting colder by the minute out here.

  "Mum?" I shout at the top of my voice, trying to stay calm and not panic. "Dad? Thomas! Someone!"

  Silence.

  "Mum!" I yell.

  "Who are you looking for?" asks a voice nearby.

  Turning, I see that the little elf has followed me. He's still up on top of the shelves, and his legs are sticking out the side of the box, which means he can just about keep up. A little further back, Table is standing in the aisle, having also, apparently, decided to follow me.

  "What are you doing here?" I ask wearily. "I thought -"

  "They'll kill me," she says, interrupting me. "You might think it's a joke, but it's not. There were other tables before us, you know. I remember them, and they all tried to escape, and they all got caught, and the recyclers killed them. The only reason I survived for so long is because I was obedient, but you've blown that now, so I guess..." She pauses for a moment, and she seems genuinely sad. "If I stay there, they'll kill me."

  "Do you know the way out of here?" I ask cautiously.

  "I don't even know if there is a way out of here," she replies. "Anyway, why would you want to leave the Library? There's nothing else in the whole world apart from the Library and the plains. I heard a rumor that if you go too far out into the plains, you either die, or you just come back to a different part of the Library."

  "I need to go home," I reply. "I need to find a way back to where I came from. If I'm not already insane."

  "There's no reason to leave the Library," the boxed goblin says, with a hint of sadness in his voice. "The girl's right. There's nothing out there, at least not in this world. There only place is the great plain, but it's really more of a big circle, surrounded on all sides by the walls of the Library."

  "I need to find my parents," I reply firmly. "They're here somewhere. At least, I think they are. They must have fallen down the same hole I fell down, and..." Pausing, I look back along the aisle, and then I look up at the vast, darkening sky above us. "This doesn't feel right," I say after a moment. "The sky looks different. I can't quite explain it, but I feel like I've never been under this sky before." Feeling a shiver pass through my body, I turn to the elf. "What's your name?"

  "Nodby," he replies. "Why? What's yours?"

  "Her name's Alice," says Table. "Alice Never."

  "Where are we?" I ask, stepping over to the shelf and staring straight up at this Nodby creature. "I know we're in a library somewhere, but are we near Leeds?"

  "Near where?" he asks with a frown.

  "We're in England, right?" I continue, feeling a tightening sensation in my chest. "We have to be in England."

  "Eng-what?"

  "Are we in Wales?"

  He frowns.

  "Where are we, then?" I shout, starting to lose my temper. "Where are my parents?"

  "There's no need to be so loud," he says calmly. "Shouting gets you nowhere. It doesn't matter how much you raise your voice, I'm not opening the door and letting you out of your prison. For all I know, someone might have put you in there because you're dangerous."

  "I'm not in a prison!" I shout. "You're the one who's all shut up in a place you don't want to be!"

  "Well," he replies, clearly not impressed, "from where I'm sitting, you're the one behind bars!"

  Letting out a grunt of frustration, I grab hold of the shelf and start climbing up. Before Nodby can react, I get far enough to reach up and grab one of the bars on his box, and then I swing him down and - despite his protestations and cries for me to stop - I climb back down and place him on the ground. He immediately sticks his legs back out through the bars and lifts the box a few inches off the ground.

  "You had no right to do that!" he shouts.

  "But I made you realize, didn't I?" I continue. "I mean, if I picked you up, how can I be the one in a prison?"

  He stares at me for a moment. "You poor, pitiful fool," he says eventually. "You can't even see that you're trapped on the other side of the bars. You must be suffering from some kind of mania. You've probably lost your mind."

  "For God's sake!" I say, and for a moment I'm tempted to kick his box. "How can I prove this to you? Do I have to open that damn thing up?"

  "You can't!" he replies. "It can only be unlocked from this side." He smiles, before looking over at Table. "What kind of a prison would the pair of you be in if there was a lock on your side, huh? Face it. You can't get through the door onto my side of the bars."

  "Your side of the bars is about a meter square," I point out.

  "A prison isn't defined by its size," he replies.

  "So let me get this straight," I continue. "You're in a small box, with bars all around, and yet somehow you think you're free, and the rest of us are all in a prison?"

  "What other interpretation is there?" he asks. "Do you want to be in the Library?"

  "Of course not!" I reply. "I'm trying to find a way out!"

  "Sounds like you're in a prison to me," he mutters. "I want to be right where I am, so how can I possibly be in a prison?"

  "Do you have any idea where they might have taken my parents?" I ask, realizing that there's no point going around and around in these circular arguments. "And who are 'they', anyway?"

  "You could try the citadel," Table says quietly.

  "The where?" I ask, turning to her.

  "The citadel. It's where all the really important people live. There are librarians and researchers, and soldiers, and all sorts of dignitaries. I don't know if your parents are important, but if they are, someone probably took them there. I mean, if I found them, that's where I'd take them. Well, to one of the citadels, at least. The alternative is that maybe no-one found them at all and they're merely wandering randomly through the place, in which case I wouldn't expect them to last very long. Let's focus on the positives and assume that they're at the citadel."

  "Okay, where is it?" I ask.

  "It's a long way away," she replies. "I'm not even sure of the way. There are a few. Hell, I don't even know which one is nearest."

  "I am," Nodby says.

  "Can you show me?" I ask.

  "And why would I do that?" he replies. "I mean, I'm not averse to helping people, but it seems to me that you've been rather rude so far. I'd have thought you might have been a little more polite if you were hoping for some assistance."

  "Fine," I say with a sigh, unable to muster the energy to keep arguing. "If I admit that you're right and I'm wrong, that you, despite being in a box, are free, and I'm
the one who's behind the bars, will you take me to this citadel place?"

  He sniffs.

  "Please?" I add.

  "I suppose so," he replies, "but I should warn you, it won't be easy. It'll be dangerous, for one thing, and it's a long journey. You'll have to listen to me, so I'll need you to stop being quite so arrogant."

  "Arrogant?" I reply, stunned at the accusation.

  "You're clearly not from around here," he continues, "so it'd behoove you to stop telling everyone else what to do. You've already messed up Table's career, and now you keep trying to convince me that somehow I'm in a prison, when it's perfectly clear to everyone else that I'm the only one who's free, and the rest of you are all behind bars."

  "But -"

  "Sshhh!" Table says. "I mean, maybe he's right?"

  "He's -" I start to say, before realizing that I need this bizarre little creature's help if I'm ever going to find my way home. "Do you really think my parents will be at this citadel?" I ask after a moment.

  "It's the only place I can imagine that anyone would take them," he replies.

  "And then..." I pause for a few seconds. "Can you get us home? My brother -" Pausing again, I realize that Thomas must still be back there in the snow, waiting by the car. If I don't get to him soon, he could freeze to death. "We don't have much time," I continue. "I'll do anything you want, but you have to help me find my parents and get back to my brother. In fact, getting back to my brother might have to be the priority. He could die out there."

  "I'm sure someone at the citadel will know what to do," he says. "If you got here, you must be able to get back. After all, a bridge goes two ways."

  Crouching down, I reach out and shake his hand. "Deal," I say with a forced smile. "I'll give you anything and everything in the world, if you can help me get back to him."

  "Huh," he mutters, clearly not very impressed. "Right, you'd better follow me. It's getting dark, and we're going to need somewhere to camp down for the night." He turns to Table. "You coming with us?"

  "I can't go back," she replies hesitantly. "They'll kill me when they realize I even moved an inch."