The Library - The Complete Series (26 page)

As I stand up and turn to look ahead, I see that we're almost directly under the eye of the storm, which swirls and cracks above us. A section of the Library seems to have been torn away, with its shelves ripped back, while there are some men standing over in the center of the clearing. With Natalia slowly leading me forward, I have to shield my eyes from the intense light that burns and broils just a little way above the ground, and a freezing cold wind is howling around us.

"This is her?" asks a male voice from nearby.

"This is her," Natalia says.

"Then what are we waiting for?" the male voice continues. "Let us begin the transfer."

Vanguard

"How long has it been?" Fig asks, her voice resonating in the darkness. "Time passed so slowly for me while I was in that little room, I'm afraid I've quite lost the ability to measure the separation of one moment from the next. I know it has been many, many years, though. I know a lot has happened since the last time I saw you, Vanguard, and I know that we have both changed. We
must
have, mustn't we? Creatures such as us must always evolve, or we'll die
."

She slithers close to me, endlessly circling my position but never quite coming close. I imagine she is still trying to determine my health, to decide whether or not she can strike at me. I'm certain she would like to gain her revenge, to settle a few scores from the past, but she knows better than to underestimate my strength.

"You're very quiet," she continues after a moment. "I can tell that you're still breathing, and I can feel the warmth from your beating heart, so I can only assume that you're sulking. Could that be true? You are Vanguard, you..." She pauses. "Oh, now what was that phrase you always used to trot out when you were trying to impress people. You are
a Lord of the House of Lacanth. You have slain a thousand men... well, I suppose that number has probably increased a little since we last met. You've led armies around the entire circumference of the Library, and you've fought among the Soldiers of Tea. Yes, that was your list of achievements, was it not?"

Remaining silent, I reach down and feel my injured leg. The bone is already healing, and I'm confident I will be back to full strength soon.

"Is this the same sword you always used to have?" she asks. "How sweet, that you keep the same weapon year after year? Are you superstitious, Vanguard? There are certainly a lot more dents. I used to know the surface of this sword so well, back when it was clean and had only one or two minor pock marks. Now it is clearly old and damaged, yet still you grip the hilt. When you stole this sword from me, I assumed you would only use it temporarily, until you could get your hands on something better. Why do you still have this old thing? Does it have sentimental value?"

She slithers closer, and finally I feel her hand on my shoulder.

"All this metal," she continues. "You are so much bigger, Vanguard. So much uglier. Back when you were a young warrior among the Soldiers of Tea, you were constantly mocked for your small size. That's changed, though. You're a big, hulking man now. What happened? Why did you place so much metal beneath your skin?"

"I did not place it there," I reply, infuriated by her suggestion that I would be so vain, "and if I have retained this sword, it is merely because I have grown accustomed to its feel. Do not fool yourself into believing that I suffer from any sentiment or nostalgia."

"So where did the metal come from?" she continues, her hand moving along my shoulder and brushing against my neck. "Come on, Vanguard. You know you can talk to me. If it helps, try to imagine that our heads are rested on pillows, like the old days. Try to imagine that we have just done something energetic."

"I was captured," I tell her. "When the Soldiers of Tea were beaten in the Void-Space, I was the only one who was captured. The Drazi chained me up and threw me into an oubliette, and they simply forgot about me. No food, no water. They shut the door and left me there to die, deep underground, with no light."

"My poor dear Vanguard," Fig replies. "How awful that must have been for you."

"I came close to death," I continue. "At the time, I had no idea how long I remained in that infernal place. Later, I came to realize that it was close to two hundred years. I could not die, though. I could not allow myself to slip away from life itself, so I waited and I waited, and slowly I grew. I became bigger and stronger. I pushed my body, in that cramped little space, and soon I became stronger than I could ever have imagined. The chains remained in place, though, and slowly my flesh and muscle grew over the metal, drawing it into my body. When I finally broke free, the chains were inside me, and I could no longer get them out."

"So you still carry them around, under your skin?" Fig asks. "How wonderful, Vanguard. They must be so heavy."

"I was able to break down the door of the oubliette," I say, thinking back to that moment when I finally destroyed the door and emerged on a plain in the world of the Drazi. "I must have killed a thousand of their number that day. In the time since they captured me, they had grown weak and docile, and they certainly did not expect me to still be alive. Filled with rage, I killed all who stood in my way. Men, women, children... I spared no-one. My anger only ended when I fell through the link and into the void. I should have died, but yet again I was lucky and I somehow landed back in this world. By the time I returned, however, everything had changed. The Library was at war."

"If I had known," Fig replies, "I would have waited for you. Well, I would have
considered
waiting for you. It certainly would have been an option. I simply assumed that you were dead. The remaining warriors of the Soldiers of Tea told me that you had been killed." She runs her fingers along my arm, feeling the bulges where metal chains mix with muscle beneath the skin. "There is a lake on the north side of the Citadel," she says eventually. "It's a new lake, and a small one. Some might say it's little more than a large puddle. The point, though, is that it was formed entirely from my tears. When I thought you were dead, Vanguard, I believed my life must surely also be over."

"There is no need for such drama," I say firmly. "There is no reason why my death should have affected you in any way."

"Perhaps," she continues. "But sometimes, Vanguard, I think you under-estimated your own impact on the world. It was not so very long after your disappearance that the Soldiers of Tea began to lose their strength. One by one, the remaining members were picked off and killed. They recruited new members, but momentum was against them. They finally died shortly after the Forbidders arrived. I was not there at the time, but I hear from others that their skin was left hanging like confetti from the trees."

"They are all gone," I reply quietly.

"Not all," she says. "For one thing,
you
are back, which means that one of the original members has returned to this world. Also, and I imagine you will be surprised when you hear this,
I
was accepted into their order, shortly before they were killed. You and I, Vanguard. We're the last of the Soldiers of Tea. Think of the responsibility that we carry on our shoulders. That noble order has been revived, and it is up to us to prove that we can carry their legacy forward into the -"

"The Soldiers of Tea are dead," I say firmly. "You cannot simply dredge up the name and slap it onto any passing fools who wish to hold a sword. There is no way to go back to those days of honor. It is better to let the Soldiers of Tea rest, and to mark their legacy in some other way." Hauling myself to my feet, I feel that my body has mostly healed, with just a few cracks and dents here and there. "If you were planning to kill me," I tell Fig, "you are too late. I am no longer weak. The moment has passed."

"Is that what you thought I was doing?" she asks. "You thought I was circling you because I wished to strike at you?" She laughs. "I was protecting you. I was making sure that nothing else could get to you. Now that you're healed, I will extend my help a little further and help you find a way out of here, if you wish. The Citadel is destroyed, but I believe there is still much for you to do."
"I seek the first book," I reply. "It was taken by the Librarian and -"

"And turned into a girl and sent to the world of the humans," Fig replies. "Yes, I know."

I pause for a moment. "Turned into a girl?" I ask eventually, puzzled by her choice of words.

"Did you not know?" she asks, before laughing again. "Vanguard, do you seriously mean to tell me that you have been hunting blindly for a book, without knowing the new form in which that book was to be found?"

"Tell me," I say firmly, sick of her games.

"I have met the book," she says. "In fact, she came to visit me a couple of times in the Citadel. She's such a lovely young girl. Pretty, and with kind eyes. She seemed uncertain, though, as if she could not quite believe the role she would have to play."

"What was her name?" I ask, even though I have a feeling I already know the answer.

"Surely you recognized Claire when you first saw her?" Fig continues. "Could you not tell that she was the first book? In your haste, did you rush straight past the very thing you were looking for?"

"This is not possible," I tell her. "A book is a book, and a girl is a girl. A book can no more become a girl than a girl can..." My voice trails off as I realize that Fig is right. Claire
is
the first book, which explains why Sharpe went to all the trouble of bringing her to this world in the first place.

"Silence," Fig says. "I know what it means when you fall silent, Vanguard. It means you are deep in thought. Tell me, what have you decided?"

"Where was she when the Citadel fell?" I ask.

"Claire? I have no idea. I imagine, though, that she had been taken from the building. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if those Grandapams had taken her."

"To safety?"

"To the Forbidders."
"Grandapams are loyal creatures," I reply. "They would never betray their masters."

"But who
are
their masters?" Fig asks. "Loyalty is a quality to be esteemed, but it works both ways. If the Grandapams were loyal to the Elder, they would have protected Claire and laid down their lives in order to keep her from the Forbidders. But if they were loyal to the Forbidders, they would have done the opposite. They would have done anything to get Claire away from this place. They might even have gone so far as to have caused the explosion that destroyed the Citadel."

"We must find her," I say, filled with rage at my own stupidity. How could I have spent so long with Claire, without realizing her true nature? How could I have allowed myself to become so fixated on finding the first book, that I neglected to consider the possibility that it might have changed its form? If Claire is lost to the Forbidders, I will be the only one who must shoulder the blame. If she dies, and the Forbidders wreak havoc on this land, it will be because of my weakness.

Claire

"You can look at me," says the male voice. "Claire, I think it would be wise for you to look directly at me. You're only delaying the inevitable."

With my hands still over my eyes, shielding me from the intense light, I turn and see through my fingers that Natalia and the Grandapams have moved back a little, leaving me standing here with this stranger. The churning sky is illuminating the clearing, and a strange, still sense of calm seems to have descended.

"I understand that this must be an overwhelming moment," the man continues, "but I trust that the Grandapams have explained what is happening." He pauses, as if he's expecting me to say something. "I am the Emissary of the Forbidders," he says eventually. "I was sent here to negotiate on their behalf, since they have very little understanding of how the minds of other species work. As you have perhaps noticed, their approach tends to be to grab whatever they want, but they recognize that on this occasion a more subtle approach might be required."

"Subtle?" I ask, still unable to look directly at him. "You call this subtle?"

"By their standards, yes," he replies. "The Forbidders would normally have destroyed the Library in the blink of an eye, but they're looking for something very specific. Something fragile that could, itself, be destroyed in the maelstrom. They're looking for you, and now they've found you. I hope that, even in your fear, you're able to recognize that this is a great honor."

Lowering my hands a little, I squint as I try to look at this Emissary guy. I blink a couple of times, and finally I'm able to get a proper look at his face. It takes a moment before I realize that I've seen him before.

"Daniel?" I say, shocked to find myself face-to-face with Vanguard's old friend. It's been a few days since I last saw him, and he's just about the last person I'd ever expect to find around here. After all, he seemed keen to lead his followers far away from the Library.

"Daniel?" he asks, frowning. "What does that word mean? Oh, I see. Daniel. I assume that is the name that was once attached to this face." He smiles. "Did you meet this body before, Claire? That's a rather surprising coincidence."

"You don't talk like Daniel," I tell him.

"You shouldn't trust heads," he replies. "Heads are unreliable. Just because someone has the head of someone you know, it doesn't automatically mean that he has the same mind."

"You're not him," I say, starting to feel a sense of nausea in the pit of my stomach.

"I'm afraid I had to acquire a new head at short notice," he continues, lowering the edge of his tunic to reveal a row of rough stitches running around his neck. "My old head was rotten and bloated, and could not sustain me. Surely you remember the decrepit state in which you found me?"

Staring at the stitches, I can see the skin of his torso is a kind of rotten gray color. It's as if he literally removed Daniel's head and sewed it onto his own body, and now he's walking around like this, as if it's nothing out of the ordinary.

"You killed him?" I ask.

"I assure you," he replies, "that was not my intention. However, decapitation does tend to be fatal to any species that lacks the ability to grow a replacement."

"You're sick," I tell him.

"This is how my species prolongs life," he says, holding up his right hand. "I got this from a dying soldier. My other hand came from a common thief who was making his living in the Anthropology section of the Library. I've stitched myself together, patching failing parts together, almost my whole life. Every time a part of my body is injured, or becomes too old to function properly, I simply replace it with a part that I've scavenged from elsewhere. I'm sorry that my head seems to be from someone you once knew." He smiles. "I hope it wasn't someone to whom you were particularly close. I'd hate to think that my appearance is putting you through undue discomfort."

Unable to look at the stitches, I turn away.

"You're disgusted by me," he continues. "I can understand that. Humans are notoriously weak. But your feelings about me are not important. Do you not remember me?"

"I remember your face," I reply, "but I know you're not really him."

"That's not what I mean," he says. "We've met before, Claire. I had a different head back then, but the same mind." He waits for me to answer. After a moment, he steps closer and smiles. "My name is Gum, Claire. I am the Emissary of the Forbidders, but I prefer to be called by my old name. We met earlier, when you had just arrived in the Library. I had been waiting for you. There were prophecies that said you would one day return in this part of the Library, so I waited and waited for hundreds of years, my body slowly rotting away. I knew I couldn't leave my post, but I was unable to acquire fresh body parts for many years, so my old form rotted rather badly. I was close to giving up, but finally you came. If only you had arrived sooner, none of this would have had to happen."

Above us, the sky seems to crack open a little further. Looking up, I shield my eyes again as I see that the bright white sphere has started to grow several other, smaller spheres around its edge.

"Don't you remember me?" Gum continues. "Ignore the face for a moment. Focus on the name. Don't you remember meeting me in the Library, when you were first here? You were lost and alone. You told me your name was Claire the Torturer, and that you believed yourself to be in a coma. I warned you that my strength was returning and that one day I would come to find you. Did you think that was an empty promise?"

"I remember you," I tell him. It's hard to believe that the weak creature I met around that small campfire could have recovered to become the figure that now stands before me. "I just want to go home," I say eventually, close to tears. "That's all I want. I want to go home. I don't want to be a part of any of this. Look at me. I clearly don't belong here."

"You
are
going home," Gum replies. "It's just not the home you were expecting."
"Then it's not home," I say firmly.

"It will be."

"I want to go to
my
home," I tell him. "I want to go back to my bedroom, where I couldn't sleep properly and where I had to listen to my father snoring from the next room, and where I had to have an operation and where I was going to go back to university eventually, and where I had a life and friends."

"You will be honored by the Forbidders," he continues. "Do not think for a moment that you will be hurt in any way, Claire. You will simply revert to your old form, and the Forbidders will revere you as one of the holiest items in their world. Perhaps it's not how you saw your life progressing, but I'm sure you can recognize that there is no barbarity about this solution, no pain and no suffering. At the same time, you will be saving the Library. The Forbidders were willing to tear this world apart, shelf by shelf, in their determination to track you down. Now they're going to leave and the Library can be rebuilt. If it helps you to think of this as a sacrifice -"

"It doesn't," I say firmly.

"But it should. What do you think would happen if the Forbidders continued to rip the Library apart? What do you think would happen once they destroyed this entire land?" He pauses for a moment. "They would move on to the next land, and then the next, until finally they would destroy all the seven worlds. They would find you eventually. Even if they had to back you into the last corner of the last world, they would find you. And then they would wait for you to accept your fate."

"What if I
never
accept it?"

"You must."
"But what if I don't?"

"You have no choice. The Forbidders will wait for the rest of time if necessary."
I stare at him, trying to work out exactly what he means. "But if I refuse," I say eventually, "won't they just take me anyway?"

"They can't," he says. "Now that they've found you, they can only take you if you accept the transformation back into your old form. You're no use to them as a human. It's your book form that they crave."

"So if I refuse," I continue, "there's nothing they can do about it?"
"If you refuse," he says, "they will rip this world apart as an expression of their rage, and then they will rip apart the human world until you finally drop to your knees and beg them to accept you. It's inevitable, Claire. The more you fight it, the more pain and suffering you inflict on this world and the others. You must recognize that this is the best course of action for all concerned."

"But I can say no?"

"You must give yourself willingly to the Forbidders. You
will
give yourself willingly."
"But I can say no, can't I?"

"You will not deny them their prize. Their rage would be incalculable."

"But they can't
make
me go with them?"

He stares at me, as if the thought has never even crossed his mind. "Could you really do such a thing?" he asks. "Could you stand back and let whole worlds be ripped apart, simply because you lack the courage to resume your rightful place? Are you so selfish that you would let worlds burn while you stand shivering in the corner, waiting for the flames to reach you?"

Above us, the sky seems to be splitting even further apart. The dark clouds are moving apart, and a bright white light seems to be emerging through a deep crack that runs from horizon to horizon.

"They're already angry," Gum continues. "They want to know why you haven't surrendered to them yet. They consider it to be a matter of deep disrespect."
"Why do they even want me?" I ask. "What's so special about
me
?"

"You're the first book, Claire," he says. "You're -"

"Stop saying that!" I shout. "Look at me! I'm not a book! I'm a person, with arms and legs and a body. Do you even know what a book looks like? It has pages and a cover and... and no face! A book wouldn't be standing here arguing with you!"

"But you
are
a book," he continues, "albeit one that is currently, briefly, in a different form. In fact, you're not only
a
book; you're
the
book. You're the very first book in all of the seven worlds. When you were created, there was no precedent. When the Library was established, you were the first item ever placed onto one of these shelves, and you sat there, silent and patient, for so many thousands of years. This period of humanity, Claire, is just a blip in your existence. It's temporary. You must revert to your natural form."

"No," I say, shaking my head. "You're wrong. You've got me mixed up with someone else."

"The Forbidders know your nature," Gum replies. "They've been studying you for many years. They almost got hold of you once before, but the Librarian was able to spirit you away. Now the Forbidders have found you again, there's no way they'll let you slip through their fingers a second time. They consider you to be the seed from which whole civilizations blossomed, and they seek only to worship you." He pauses for a moment, as a gaping chasm continues to open in the sky. "The Forbidders consider themselves to be above every other race in the seven worlds, Claire, but there is one thing they're lacking. They have no faith. No belief. They can't trust in anything that they can't see and feel. They want to resolve this, and their way of doing this is to seek out the most precious object in existence and worship it."

"I'm not an object," I tell him.

"You are," he replies. "That's the whole point. You are; or, at least, you
were
, and you will be again. You've been given temporary human form, but fundamentally you're just a book. Think of the Forbidders as collectors. Very eager collectors. Perhaps a little over-eager. But they want you, and they
will
have you, and you
will
give yourself willingly to them."

"If they're so powerful," I say, "why don't they just take me?"

"They could, but only in your present form. They want you to revert to the form of the book, and that's something that can only happen if you make the choice. The Librarian deliberately gave you a human form because he knew that it would make you stubborn. It's time to end that stubbornness. It's time to think of the greater good, and allow yourself to become the book once again."

I take a deep breath, trying to decide what to do. Looking up, I see the crack in the sky swirling above us. I always thought I was a brave person, but there's no way I can just surrender to all of this. I feel like I'd be diving head-first into pure madness, and I can't help thinking that this Gum guy's just trying to tell me what I want to hear, so he can trick me. There's only one place I'm going to go today; I'm going to go home.

"Perhaps you require a demonstration of their power first," Gum continues. "Shall I show you what the Forbidders can do, Claire? Shall I let you see their power and their fury unrestrained? If you finally see the face of their fury, perhaps you will recognize that you have no choice but to do what they want. Stand aside and watch as they reveal their true nature to these poor, pitiful Grandapams who have brought you as their offering. In the process, I will also show you the value of true sacrifice."

"I don't need a bunch of lessons," I say firmly.

"I think you do, Claire," he says. "I think you need to be taught the value of sacrifice, and the value of accepting your fate. Don't worry, it won't take long. The Grandapams know what they want, and the Forbidders are already to grant their wish. However, both sides will have to make certain concessions. You're far too attached to your own ego, Claire, but I shall show you what happens when such considerations are put to one side. I shall show you the true power of the Forbidders, and I shall reveal their greatest strength." With that, he steps back, just as the sky roars with thunder and the light from behind the clouds becomes unbearable.