The Cornerstone (21 page)

There wasn’t much hope in her voice.

‘That sounds… like a nice idea.’ Max replied.

It wasn’t his fault Merelie’s dream of a saviour from Earth was just that… a dream. He still felt guilty he hadn’t tried a bit harder to understand; maybe even giving this Wordcrafting thing a proper go if there’d been time. It wouldn’t have worked, but at least he could have made a show of trying, for Merelie’s sake.

She picked up The Cornerstone, which despite being knocked from pillar to post recently, displayed no new signs of wear and tear.

‘At least no more have come through,’ she pointed out. ‘The Cornerstone’s defences appear to be working again.’

Despite the fraught situation, Max was still curious about the strange book that had come into his life and made it so much more interesting.

‘Who gave it defences?’ he asked.

‘The first Chapter Lord. When this world was discovered by Symon Carvallen, he wrote this Cornerstone to act as the gateway.’

‘Was he powerful?’

‘Yes, very. That type of Wordcrafting skill hasn’t existed for a very long time, but back then there were enough powerful Wordsmiths to make the Chapter Lands a more exciting place to be.’ Merelie sighed. ‘They’d have stopped all this from happening.’ She tossed the book down in disgust. ‘I’ve wasted years thinking an off-world Wordsmith could save us. I should have been training harder to fight the monsters I knew were coming.’

‘Don’t have a go at yourself. You didn’t know this Morodai bloke was working with them. After all, he’s the one that let them in, yeah?’

‘Yes.’ There was a brittle look in her eyes that Max didn’t like. ‘I
will
go home… and if nothing else I’ll see that bastard dead.’

‘That’s thinking positively,’ he said, a response lamer than a three-legged horse. ‘You’re absolutely sure this is what you want to do?’

‘What choice do I have? Imelda can’t help, you can’t help.
Nobody
in this world can help.’

Merelie was disconsolate. Imelda’s tirade in the trashed library had totally sunk in by now. Coupled with an unpleasant few hours in this flat, uninspired world, she had to bitterly concede that no Wordcraft existed here.

‘You could stay with me, where it’s safe,’ Max offered.

Her face dropped even more, if that were possible. ‘I can’t live here. This place is horrid. I’d rather die in the Chapter Lands.’

‘It’s not that bad,’ Max said, feeling he should once again leap to the defence of his country, planet and universe.

Merelie realised she’d gone a bit far and gave him a wan smile. ‘Not for you, Max. This is where you live. I’m sure there are things about this world that are lovely. But I’m lost here. It’s such a strange place.’

She laid a hand on The Cornerstone. ‘This is a pointless discussion anyway. I can’t get back, The Cornerstone’s dead. There’s no charge in it to get me home.’

The thing did look a bit lifeless. There was normally a slight, imperceptible shimmer surrounding it, now conspicuous by its absence.

Max remembered that the last time it had been like this, Merelie had thrust it into a library bookshelf to recharge. Then he recalled the nearest library was currently surrounded by police and off limits.

There were other libraries in the area, but getting to them would be a pain. He guessed he’d have to take Merelie there on the bus or something. If she wasn’t depressed enough already, a few minutes on British public transport should finish her off nicely.

Then, a better answer popped into his head:

Grandad.

Charlie Pearce's house, only twenty minutes walk away, was virtually a library itself, filled to the rafters with books. Surely there‘d be enough power to charge The Cornerstone and send Merelie home?

He still wasn’t sure this plan of action was advisable – one sixteen year old girl against a host of void dwelling monsters and dastardly Wordsmiths didn’t give great odds – but she seemed determined, so who was he to argue?

He told Merelie about Charlie’s wealth of books.

‘That should work,’ she agreed. ‘Your grandfather sounds like a good man, Max. I’ll look forward to meeting him.’

‘If he gets talking about his haemorrhoids you might change your mind.’

 ‘I just hope if I do get back, there’s a reason for bothering. If Garrowain’s dead and there’s nobody else left…’

She left this hanging, not willing to put into words what they were both thinking.

- 7 -

Garrowain wasn’t dead.

Far from it, in fact.

As Merelie had disappeared through The Cornerstone, he’d taken the sensible decision to run like buggery. Unfortunately, the freshly hijacked Borne had been in hot pursuit.

The evil spirit that had invaded the Arma displayed a dogged determination and managed to stay right behind him as they twisted and turned along the stacks.

What went in Garrowain’s favour was his total knowledge of every aisle, hallway and reading room of the massive Library. This kept him just far enough ahead of Borne to think about his next move.

Part of Garrowain’s brain worked overtime on a solution, while the rest kept his feet pumping through the maze of bookshelves - the sound of grunting and growling close behind him.

Somewhere to keep him safely locked up...

That’s what was needed right now.

The Library was not the type of place to offer immediate facilities for the imprisoning of possessed bodyguards, but one chamber sprang to mind that might serve the purpose.

Garrowain had recently commissioned the construction of a new Library hub, meant to contain a selection of novels promised to him by his equivalent at the Falion Chapter House - a tall, whip-thin fellow named Hambrey.

The chamber currently stood empty at the end of the classical art section and had only one doorway leading from it. It was the perfect place to store a maniacal monster - for the short term anyway.

The custodian made a few lefts and a couple of rights, finding himself in the correct corridor with the chamber at the end. Everything was going swimmingly until he saw that the door to the hub was missing.

A moment of panic overtook Garrowain as he sprinted down the aisle, desperately thinking of a way to salvage the situation.

The answer presented itself in the books he was running past.

He’d have to build a barrier to keep the Arma contained, and he could make it with books.

Fortunately, the biggest, heaviest books in the Library were in the classical art section.

This is always the case, in whatever universe you happen to be in.

Art is about visuals - and visuals should be nice and
big
, so the talent of the artist can be fully appreciated - or indeed ridiculed.

You can’t just have pictures, of course. You also need pretentious and descriptive writing. This will be flowery, won’t make much sense and will probably ruin whatever magic the picture had to begin with.

All this contrives to create the kind of enormous hardback book that middle-class people like to put on their coffee tables to impress friends.

They’re never actually read, but nothing says ‘I’m an intelligent and highly articulate person’ like a massive pile of books about the Renaissance - which require a forklift to move about.

Garrowain ran down an aisle of books so big they’d need to sit on a coffee table reinforced with steel girders. He word shaped as he ran, using all that pretentious energy to summon up a useful amount of power.

As he ran through the doorway into the empty hub, he dodged to one side just as Borne came crashing through, howling as he flew past.

Garrowain spun gracefully, backed out and unleashed Wordcraft.

An entire shelf of gigantic books flew from their perches, forming a solid wall between Borne and the custodian, covering the open doorway completely.

The Arma screamed and smashed into the barrier, the books giving way ever so slightly, but otherwise holding firm.

‘Now, young man,’ Garrowain said. ‘I think that’s just about enough of that.’ He walked up to the newly created barrier and rapped his knuckles on it. ‘This should hold you for a while. I’m aware the nasty little creature inside you is very strong, but I’ll fancy it doesn’t have the power to break free of this in hurry. This is my Library after all and I hold sway here.’

‘You’ll be my meal like the rest,’ growled the Dweller.

‘And a good meal I’d make, my boy! I’ve read many interesting things, and seen many fascinating sights. But I rather think I’ll be keeping hold of my faculties a while longer.’

‘I will break out of here and I will have you!’

‘Well, let’s just see about that, shall we?’ Garrowain said, contemplating what to do next.

Holding a single possessed Arma captive was one thing; removing thousands of others, their Wordsmith masters and Lucas Morodai from Carvallen land was another problem entirely…

- 8 -

Speaking of problems, Imelda Warrington had a fairly major one. She’d lost Merelie.

The night before, the police had insisted on her going to hospital for a check-up, and had continued their interrogation while the doctors ran several pointless tests checking for gas poisoning.

Imelda had done rather too good a job of pretending to be in deep shock and was dismayed to find herself ordered to spend the night in hospital.

She’d done it, not wanting to attract any more suspicion, but had checked herself out early the next morning, desperate to find her niece.

Ironically, she missed seeing Max Bloom by seconds as they both crossed the hospital car park, the young girl from the Chapter Lands on both their minds.

Once at Farefield library - and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible given the amount of police - Imelda had hunted high and low for Merelie, with no success.

She was now sat on a nearby bench, thinking about what to do.

If I were a scared sixteen year old girl, lost in another dimension and surrounded by strangers… where would I go?

Not being sixteen and having spent her teenage years on another planet, Imelda drew a blank.

A more constructive thought surfaced:

She does know someone here though, doesn’t she? Max Bloom.

The one man sarcasm factory the girl had yanked across to the Chapter Lands without permission.

There was no way Merelie could know where Bloom lived and no way Bloom could know Merelie was here, but for some reason Imelda knew - 
just bloody knew
- he was still involved in this somehow.

The Cornerstone had virtually adopted him, creating a connection she’d never seen it have with anyone else. He’d been over to the Chapter Lands - not once but twice - reappearing completely unharmed both times. Physically and mentally.

That was just plain wrong…

Nobody should be able to pop across dimensions, get chased by invisible monsters, enter the nightmares of another person and have their entire knowledge of existence turned upside down in one day, without demonstrating some kind of trauma.

Max Bloom was far from normal and while it seemed he’d only got caught up in events by accident, Imelda was willing to bet vital parts of her anatomy that there was more going on here than met the eye.

She was further willing to bet that if she found the boy, her chances of finding Merelie would rise significantly.

Having said all that, she had no idea where Bloom was either.

But you had him fill out his details the first time he came in, didn’t you?

Bingo!

- 9 -

Jacob and Halia Carvallen were bound tightly in chairs in front of the massive desk in Jacob’s study, behind which sat Lucas Morodai, flanked by two Dwellers.

 ‘You’re insane Lucas,’ said Jacob, stating the obvious.

‘Am I?’ Morodai replied. ‘From where I sit, I’d say I’ve planned and executed an operation that’s brought every Chapter House to its knees. Not the work of an insane man in my book.’

‘By allying yourself with these
things
,’ Halia said with disgust.

One of them growled at her.

‘Be careful what you say my dear. My colleague here would love nothing more than to eat every single last morsel of thought from your head.’ Morodai flashed a reptilian smile. ‘And then I’m sure Osgood would have fun with whatever was left.’

‘You touch my wife - ‘ warned Jacob.

‘Oh be quiet!’ Morodai snapped. ‘You’re in no position to make threats.’

‘Why do you let us live, Lucas?’ Halia continued. ‘Why are we spared?’

Morodai leaned forward, the smile returning. ‘That’s simple my lady. You have something I want.’

Jacob smiled bitterly. ‘Of course we do. Compassion isn’t your thing, is it Lucas?’

‘Not really,’ the Chapter Lord admitted, getting up and perching himself on the front of the desk. ‘I will take what I want in exchange for the freedom of your people.’

‘What’s left of our people,’ Halia said, sadness and hate in her voice.

Morodai waggled a finger at her. ‘Tut tut. I’ve left many of your little citizens alive, Halia. Far more than Falion’s, certainly. What’s more, those… um…
borrowed
by my colleagues can be restored to their former selves.’ He looked round at the two Dwellers behind him. ‘As I understand it, when they’re along for the ride, the mind of the host is shunted off to a corner somewhere, rather than being immediately devoured.’ He lingered over that last word, making Halia shudder. ‘Something to do with an active mind being needed for the body to function or some such… the details bore me.’

‘What do want, Lucas?’ Jacob asked.

‘Your adopted world! I want full access to that joyfully close-minded reality of yours, Jacob. Your Cornerstone is fighting my people and you need to re-write it. Hand over full control of The Carvallen Cornerstone and Earth to me and I let you, your family and this house survive.’

‘Why?’ asked Halia. ‘You and the others all believe it’s a soulless, pathetic place with no Wordcraft.’

‘Who cares about
Wordcraft
?’ Morodai laughed. ‘I have more than enough of that here. Have you seen the resources that planet has to offer? The billions of people I can put to work? The technology so far in advance of our own, it could revolutionise the Chapter Lands? I only need Wordcraft to overpower their governments and bend the whole civilisation to my will!’ He pointed at Jacob. ‘You’ve wasted so many years studying them and fretting over their inability to word shape, when their true purpose was staring you in the face!’ Spittle was flying from his lips now and his eyes blazed. ‘Of all the worlds, yours has the most potential to be exploited. Wellhome’s is full of meat-headed apes, Falion’s is a self-righteous fantasy land and Draveli rules a planet so choked with pollutants it’s impossible to breathe!’