The Cornerstone (19 page)

Watching him like a hawk, she made her way over to Merelie.

There was a trickle of blood coming from the girl’s temple where she’d hit the table, but she wasn’t unconscious - just heavily dazed.

‘Are you alright?’ Imelda said.

The girl put her hand to the wound, running an experimental finger over it. She flinched in pain and sucked blood off her finger. ‘Where’s Elijah?’

Imelda pointed to the fallen bookcase. One arm poked from under it. ‘I think I’ve stopped him.’

‘If that sofa had hit me dead on, I’d have been in real trouble. Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Merelie looked at Imelda for the first time with some respect. ‘I thought you said you hadn’t used your Wordcraft in a long time? You looked fine to me.’

‘No-one is more surprised about it than me, Merelie.’

‘You use my name like you know me.’

‘I should do girl. I’m your aunt. Jacob Carvallen is my brother.’ There was a trace of bitterness in Imelda’s voice.

Merelie was absolutely stunned. ‘My
aunt
? But… I’ve never heard of you!’

‘Not a huge surprise. Your father and I had a falling out a long time ago. That’s why I’m here. Jacob is the type to pretend somebody doesn’t exist if they’ve displeased him. Out of sight, out of mind, as far as he’s concerned.’

‘Your name’s Imelda Warrington, though.’

‘In this world. In the Chapter Lands I’m Emerelda Carvallen.’

‘What did you do? Why would father exile you?’

What Imelda - or Emerelda, if you prefer - did will have to wait, as Elijah now came bursting through the wreckage of the astronomy section, scaring them both.

‘You cannot stop us,’ he said, chewing down on the words as if the Dweller hadn’t quite worked out how to use a tongue and lips properly. ‘Your lands have fallen and this world will fall too. We will eat your mind and the minds of all who live here.’

‘Oh, you think so?’ Imelda said and strode forward, sending a blast of energy toward it. The Dweller was ready this time and raised Elijah’s hands, making a gesture which sent Imelda’s force harmlessly to both sides.  

‘Oh dear,’ she said, strength draining from her voice.

‘Little spells for a little mind,’ the Dweller said with amusement.

Terror rose in Imelda’s throat as he crossed the intervening space at frightening speed. An arm like an iron bar slammed into her chest and she flew backwards, hitting a free-standing rack of comic books.

The thing had brushed her aside like a minor irritation. His true target was obviously Merelie - still dazed from her fall… and easy pickings.

Imelda struggled to untangle herself from the rack. To distract the Dweller, she picked up the largest comic she could get her hands on. It was something called the Judge Dredd Archives, an inch thick book with a stone-jawed man in a helmet on the front cover.

She flung it at Elijah, assisting its flight path and speed with a bit of subtle Wordcraft. The book struck him on the head, sending the monster off course and giving Merelie enough time to dodge out of the way.

The girl tried to focus her power on the thing inhabiting her mother’s Arma, but every time she tried to shape her words, a wave of nausea passed through her and her vision blurred due to the head injury.

Merelie saw Imelda pinned by the comic rack and turned back to see creature coming at her.

He grabbed her around the throat and started the terrifying process of claiming her. The living purple and black smoke burst from Elijah’s eyes and covered her face. Merelie screamed, seeing into the monster’s horrible mind as it began to engulf hers.

All it knows is silence… All it feels is emptiness...

As the darkness threatened to take her, Merelie remembered how Max had taken care of her possessed father in the dream she’d dragged him into.

Concentrating as hard as she could, she set her feet, squared her shoulders and lashed out with her right leg, kicking Elijah in the crotch as hard as she could. The result was as satisfying for her in real life as it had been for Max in the dream.

The smoke cleared from Merelie’s head.

Elijah made an ‘
oof’
noise, like a deflated football hitting a brick wall. Obeying the universal laws of comic convention, his eyes crossed, knees buckled and he slumped to the ground, hands cupping his groin.

It’s one thing to possess a human body and control its voluntary functions. It’s entirely another to try to control the involuntary ones. It doesn’t matter how cruel and vicious a creature from the dark void you are, if you take a ride in a man’s body and get kicked in the cobblers, you
will
be collapsed in a heap on the floor faster than you can say ‘bad anatomical design’.

Looking at Elijah drop like a sack of potatoes, Merelie thought they had a fighting chance, providing he didn’t start attacking them with his legs crossed.

Blood ran into her eyes from the cut, making it difficult to see. She stumbled over to where Imelda was extricating herself from the comic rack.

‘Nicely done,’ the librarian complimented.

‘Thanks, but it’s not going to keep it down for long,’ Merelie replied. She ripped a strip from the bottom of the white top she wore and used it to dab away the blood from her face.

‘I thought it had you.’

‘It nearly did,’ Merelie shuddered. ‘I saw what it was, Imelda. I saw right into its mind.’

‘And?’

‘It’s
hungry
. It comes from a place where there’s nothing. No thought, no hope, no light, no life. It hates us for being alive in this universe - for having what it doesn’t. It takes our bodies and devours our minds so it can feel what we feel... live how we live. No wonder they struck a bargain with Morodai. They’d have given anything to get into this world.’

‘Then let’s do all we can to send them back,’ Imelda said, looking at the Dweller as it began to stir again. The Arma dragged himself to his feet, snarling with fury and pain.

Merelie and Imelda advanced. Both of them wove their hands in the air, drawing in the power of words as if it hung in space, a physical thing to be controlled and channelled.

Instead of unleashing individual attacks, they held back, getting closer to their quarry, scooping up every ounce of energy they could.

Elijah stood, one hand still cupped protectively over his groin.

Doubt reigned in the mind of the parasitical Dweller that had taken the Arma’s body. Things were not going to plan.

In the Chapter Lands, it had felt gloriously free and strong. Nothing had stood in its way. The rampage across that world had been wonderful. Once it had found Elijah – the Dweller equivalent of a Ferrari with less than ten thousand miles on the clock – it had felt even more unstoppable.

Here, things were different.

It had plunged through the doorway created by The Cornerstone with glee, eager to capture the blonde girl and drain her precious mind of all thought.

The second it had hit this reality though, things had gone wrong.

It was on its own for the first time, the girl was stronger than expected, there was a Wordsmith here, and that blasted book was stopping others coming through to help.

…and now the women approached, weaving words and about to strike.

As they thrust their hands forward, unleashing the pent up energy, the Dweller decided that humans might not be such easy prey after all.

The blast drove the Arma through six bookcases. Wood, paper and plastic flew in all directions with the force of Imelda and Merelie’s Wordcraft.

…a little too much force, as it happened.

‘Bloody hell!’ Imelda gasped, as the debris settled around her.

 ‘I think we underestimated ourselves a bit,’ Merelie said.

‘It appears we’ve put a stop to that thing, though.’ Imelda pointed at the mangled looking shape against the far wall, partially obscured by a pile of books and splintered wood.

They edged over to where Elijah lay.

He was unconscious, eyes rolled back into his head. Imelda poked him with her foot. There was no movement.

Merelie looked around at the mess. ‘This is an awful thing to happen to a library,’ she said.

‘This is an awful thing to happen to my pension,’ Imelda replied, drawing a confused look from Merelie. ‘Don’t worry, it’d take too long to explain and we have more pressing matters.’ She gave Elijah another kick.

‘He’s out cold this time,’ Merelie said, bending down to inspect the man’s face. ‘Looks like they’re not invincible after all.’

‘We were lucky - one of him and two of us. If they’ve overtaken the Chapter Lands, there’s no way we can fight back.’

‘Unless we find someone here who can help us,’ Merelie said.

Imelda sighed at the combination of hope and excitement she could hear in the girl’s voice. Her time with Max Bloom had apparently not convinced Merelie there wasn’t a powerful Wordsmith waiting in the wings on Earth to jump in and save the day.

It was very frustrating.

Just because there were books everywhere and the population could read, it didn’t mean Earth was a breeding ground for people with innate Wordcraft skills.

Imelda had been here for decades and knew what the place was like.

The people of this world only cared about their annual bonus, BMI percentage, the two weeks in Benidorm they’d booked a year ago, and the acquisition of as much shiny plastic rubbish as possible.

Books were just another aspect of day-to-day life - nowhere near as significant as in the Chapter Lands. In fact, a large percentage of the population didn’t even bother to read. They were content watching soap operas and reality TV.

Even if people were walking around with latent talent, they wouldn’t notice - what with all the worrying about council tax, phone contracts and household contents insurance.

‘I think you’d better concentrate on what
we
can do to stop this, Merelie. Relying on anyone else is never a good idea. It raises hopes and loses focus.’

‘But there must be someone - ‘

Because this had been a trying day already and because Emerelda Carvallen had been forced into twenty years exile by an uncaring brother, Imelda lost her temper.

‘For the love of God and the Writer!’ she snapped. ‘There is
no-one
here who can help Merelie! Nobody here can Wordcraft! This world isn’t like ours or any others. Trust me, I’ve been here long enough to know! Yes, there is power here, but not like ours. They fight with guns… with bombs… with nasty weapons designed by nastier minds. There is
no magic here
!’

The shocked look on the girl’s face dashed cold water over her anger. Imelda took a deep breath and composed herself. ‘I’m sorry Merelie, but I’m right. We stand and fight alone… for our loved ones and the Chapter House. And we’ll die if necessary to defend them.’

‘Spoken like a true Wordsmith.’

‘That’s what I am. Don’t let the power suit and spectacles fool you, young lady.’

It was amazing what a little light mass destruction could do to help you remember your true calling.

…having said that, Imelda looked around and decided her true calling in the next few hours might be as a cleaning lady, given the state of the place.

If there’s one group of people in this universe who have no sense of dramatic timing, it’s the police. You can be
one thousand percent sure
that in any given situation, the coppers will always turn up just after everything’s been resolved.

The sound of sirens grew louder.

‘What’s that noise?’ said Merelie, having not researched Earth society as much as she probably should have.

‘That’s the police, Merelie. This world’s version of the Chapter Guards. What they lack in imagination, they make up for in sheer bloody mindedness. Explaining this mess away will be next to impossible, especially if they find you here.’

‘What about Elijah?’

‘I’ll think of something… but you have to leave. Take The Cornerstone with you. I might be able to lie my way out of this and say this was a gas explosion or something, but trying to explain away a glowing, screaming book might be a bit of a stretch.’

‘No-one else has come through.’

‘And that’s a saving grace. Go get it and leave through the fire exit over there. Hide somewhere until the dust settles… but don’t go far, girl.’

Merelie ran back to the wrecked staff room, while Imelda put her mind to inventing a plausible story for why the library had apparently exploded and concussed a passing heavy metal fan.

Merelie found the book in the debris surrounded by bits of microwave and pot plant. She grabbed it, sprinted over to the fire exit, and headed out into the cold night air, looking for somewhere safe to hide.

- 3 -

Max had spent all night stuck in hospital, being poked, prodded and generally inconvenienced by white coats.

It was now eight in the morning and he’d just woken from a particularly disturbing dream which involved being chased through a library by a giant pair of scissors in his underpants.

The scissors he could understand, but why they were wearing his underpants was anybody’s guess.

‘Morning, love,’ Amanda Bloom said in cheery fashion from beside the bed. ‘How are you?’

‘Other than the fact I’m trapped in this hospital when I feel absolutely fine? Great, thanks. Any danger of a cup of tea?’ Max asked, and Amanda bustled off to track down a brew, giving him enough time to remember what had happened yesterday:

Seizures… Cornerstone… Lemmy from Motorhead… Merelie in danger… stuck in hospital.

…right then.

He flung the bed sheets aside, jumped out and dressed in the clothes that had been folded in the cabinet beside him - including another hoodie, unsurprisingly.

By the time Amanda came back, Max was lacing his shoes and deciding on the best course of action.

Persuading his mother to drive him to the local library at eight in the morning for no apparent reason was top of the list.

‘Why do you want to go there?’ she asked when he told her.

‘There’s a book I really want to read that came back today. It’s dead popular, so if I don’t get down there now, somebody will get it before me.’