Coffin Island

by Will Berkeley

  “I’m not getting alarmed,” I lied. “It’s just another day on the black sand beach of witchcraft. Living under the volcano is no big deal. Bring on the lava. Dump it on my head, witchcraft.”

  “That’s the old attitude,” Madison said. “Don’t let witchcraft beat you down. It wants you to quiver in your winged jackboots. Don’t let it.”

  “We’re at war with the occult?” I gasped.

  “No prisoners,” Madison confirmed.

  Then I just flat out folded. Sometimes that’s what the gambler has to do. Throw those cards right down on the red felt.

  “I don’t want to be in The Coffin Island School for Witches,” I said. “How do I get kicked out of here?”

  “This is the only school that you can’t be expelled from,” Madison said.

  “You’ve tested the limits?” I asked.

  “Yup,” Madison said.

  Chapter

  “Are there any other options for instructors on Coffin Island?” I asked.

  “What do you want?” Madison laughed. “An elderly mentor with a bubbling cauldron to teach you the dark arts instead of me?”

  “That might be nice,” I said.

  “Witchcraft is a power that resides within you,” Madison said.

  “How do I get to this power?” I asked. “I’ve spent my entire life trying to ignore it.”

  “You tap into it,” Madison said.

  “What if I can’t tap into it?” I asked.

  “It will tap into you,” Madison said.

  “What if I don’t want it to?” I asked.

  “You’re purported to be the most powerful witch in creation,” Madison snapped. “Who do I have to kill to convince you?”

  “Is this your way of telling me that you’re going to kill me?” I asked.

  “You’re too powerful,” Madison said. “I would have already killed you by now.”

  “You would have already killed me by now?” I asked.

  “You’re more powerful than me,” Madison said. “You can kill me if you like. I have never experienced the coffin room.”

  “Is it a gruesome experience?” I asked.

  “Let’s find out,” Madison said. “Kill me now.”

  “I think we’ll just keep walking in this maze for now,” I said.

  “You prefer that I attack you?” Madison grinned.

  “Why would I prefer that?” I asked.

  “If we attack a more powerful witch our power backfires,” Madison said. “It’s like committing suicide.”

  “Witchcraft believes that some witches are better than others?” I asked.

  “It demonstrates the fact,” Madison said.

  “I’m not surprised,” I said. “I hate witchcraft. It’s vile.”

  “It likes you,” Madison said. “You’re purported to be the most powerful witch in creation. It’s a wonder that so much power would reside in you. You’re just too well balanced. No offense.”

  “None taken,” I said. “I take great pride in not being crazy.”

  “I don’t think that witchcraft can control how the power is dished out,” Madison said. “There are some things that are just innate. Or they are beyond explanation. God gives it out.”

  “You believe in God?” I asked.

  “Coffin Island demonstrates the fact,” Madison said. “This whole world is just some sort of theoretical platform that our examiners only partially control.”

  “A theoretical platform,” I gasped.

  “You keep forgetting that this whole world is a test,” Madison said. “We must get to the next world and the one after that. Then we are permitted to renter the real world.”

  “Whoever did this to us should be shot,” I said.

  “What do you think that I’m going to do when I get out of here?” Madison asked. “You’ll have murder in your heart too.”

  “I already do,” I said.

  “They do this to us to incense us,” Madison snorted. “It works too.”

  “Who told you that I was the most powerful witch in creation?” I demanded.

  “A goblin,” Madison said. “Who told you?”

  “A goblin,” I said. “See, I rest my case. I am not the most powerful witch in creation.”

  “On the contrary,” Madison said.

  “Goblins are liars,” I said. “Everyone knows that.”

  “Not on Coffin Island,” Madison said.

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “Coffin Island delights in confounding common knowledge,” Madison said.

  “That’s not enough proof for me,” I said.

  “I can feel your power in my bones,” Madison said. “Can you feel mine?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “You feel insanely powerful. It’s quite unsettling actually.”

  “How do you think you make me feel?” Madison snorted. “You’re more powerful than me. It’s terrifying to hold your hand. But I like it. I like it a lot. It’s too the point that I may just never let go.”

  “Terror is a form of romantic attraction here?” I gasped.

  “Everything is screwy here,” Madison snorted.

  “Except for the things that witchcraft can’t invert,” I said.

  “You’re getting the hang of it,” Madison laughed.

  “You’ve just got to open your mind to new types of horrifying experiences,” I said.

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Madison said. “It’s taken me thousands of years to reach this level of enlightenment on Coffin Island. You just got here. I rest my case. You’re the most powerful witch in creation.”

  “I’m more powerful than you?” I asked. “That seems almost impossible.”

  “Nobody has been able to kill me on this island because of the power that resides within me,” Madison said. “It’s all the protection that I need. Half of the witches that I have killed disappeared while trying to attack me. Flocks of them have come after me. The dragons can’t even kill me now. They can’t hold me still long enough to truly set me on fire. They have burned plenty of holes in me but I recover fast. I find it quite exhilarating actually. You feel strangely alive. The edges of death are folding around you.”

  “It sounds terrific,” I said.

  “You will get addicted to it too,” Madison grinned.

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “Some witches refuse to fight,” Madison shrugged.

  “What happens to the pacifist witches?” I asked curiously.

  “I kill them,” Madison said. “Then lock them in their coffins.”

  “You can’t do that to me?” I asked.

  “You get to decide,” Madison said. “Choose wisely.”

  “I’ll fight if it means getting out of here,” I said.

  “Do you want to kill all the witches on Coffin Island?” Madison asked greedily. “They’re hiding from me right now. However I know their hiding spots. I enjoy flushing them out.”

  Hundreds of shadowy figures dashed through The Great Hall which was continuing to unfold in front of us as we walked through it. Passages suddenly appeared for all the witches and wombats that were running. Some flaming creatures chased after them. There were a few dragons roaring after them.

  “You better run,” Madison shouted. “It’s an absolute nightmare to get out of this maze.”

  “I hate architectural witchcraft,” I said. “My nanny used to delight in it.”

  “It’s an intellectual exercise that seemingly has no purpose,” Madison said. “I wish someone would teach me how to undo it.”

  “Or teach us how to simplify it,” I agreed.

  “We must walk our way out of it the old fashioned way,” Madison shrugged. “I am not permitted to fly in The Great Hall. Witchcraft clips my wings when I need them most. That’s witchcraft in a nutshell on Coffin Island. I suppose your first lesson on witchcraft on Coffin Island is concluded. How would you rate me as an instructor? I enjoy harsh feedback so please do not hold back.”

&nb
sp; “What about the teachers on the island?” I asked. “Shouldn’t they be teaching us something?”

  “They’re in a prison within this prison,” Madison said.

  “Why don’t you ask them to help you?” I asked.

  “What good is a prison that permits visitors?” Madison asked.

  “What about the wombats?” I asked. “Don’t they have any helpful advice?”

  “They’re just witchcraft encased in an animal,” Madison said. “You can’t trust them.”

  “Who is in-charge here,” I demanded.

  “Witchcraft,” Madison said. “I already told you that.”

  “I thought all that horrible witchcraft was behind me,” I gasped.

  “Being a witch here is incredible,” Madison said. “The biggest problem is witchcraft.”

  “Sounds like a bit of a conundrum,” I said.

  “That’s witchcraft for you,” Madison said.

  Chapter

  “Ignorance is not bliss on Coffin Island,” Madison said as we slid down into the library which had a vaulted floor. “It is deeply annoying. I am dying to read all these books.”

  Millions of books were floating in the ceiling of the library. A satellite system of books rotated around a mother cloud of books. There was an entire galaxy of books in the ceiling? It was moving around like a solar system?

  “How can they do that?” I asked. “How can books float without goblins?”

  “Witchcraft delights in upending common knowledge,” Madison laughed. “Books float without goblins on Coffin Island.”

  “Why are the books floating without goblins?” I asked. “What is the purpose?”

  “To make you crave knowledge,” Madison said.

  “It’s working,” I said. “I’m dying to read those books.”

  “This is the only school that the teachers are not only absent,” Madison said. “They are actively trying to keep the pupils ignorant.”

  “We should school these teachers,” I suggested.

  “That’s precisely what I propose to do,” Madison said.

  Madison and I walked across the domed floor. We walked in deep wooden panels. The floor of the library was domed?

  There was also some sort of flaming creature walking around on the flat marble ceiling of the library. The solar system of books rotated. The creature came into view. He peered down at us with his burning eyes. He was a flaming ape.

  “That is the librarian,” Madison said.

  “He won’t let you read anything?” I asked.

  “Nope,” Madison said.

  Millions of books were floating over my head in planetary formation. The library was some sort of galaxy of the written word. The entire canon of witchcraft was floating above my head? I didn’t like that. I can tell you that. I aimed to fix it somehow too.

  “Do all those books have witchcraft in them?” I asked.

  “Which is why you cannot call them down,” Madison said.

  “All the witchcraft of the ancient world is just beyond our grasp?” I asked.

  “This is one of the great treasures of our race,” Madison said. “Although it is somewhat questionable whether we are a race or have treasures. I just figure that there is something special about these books. The flaming ape suggests it. What do you think?”

  “Why don’t you get a net?” I asked.

  “The books are extremely dangerous,” Madison said. “They have not been suspended in space for thousands of years with no visible signs of degradation because of magical neglect. They are protected by very ancient witchcraft. The wombats avoid the library at all costs. The books will kill them.”

  “More reason to not go up there,” I said.

  “You mean down,” Madison said. “The library is upside down. You are standing on the ceiling of the library.”

  The library was upside down. We were walking around in the vaulted ceiling. The flaming librarian was pacing the floor. The chandeliers were hanging upside down. The furniture was floating in space. Oriental rugs were moving around like jellyfish. Book ladders ran in the wrong direction. Sculptures were floating around. It reminded me of when my mother fired our banshee housekeeper. She turned our house upside down on her last day. Things were beginning to come into much clearer focus. We just needed a troop of banshees to straighten out The Coffin Island School for Witchcraft. Perhaps a few tinkers too. They had plenty of tools in their donkey carts.

  “Years of my life have been wasted in this library learning nothing,” Madison said. “Or perhaps it was just a second. The book solar system runs independently of the hourglass. Or rather it is a competitive time zone. I enjoy a little friendly competition in my time zones.”

  “There are two different time zones on Coffin Island,” I gasped.

  My goblin nanny used to rewind time when I wouldn’t eat my vegetables. I had to sit in my highchair for decades. Now I was really beginning to get furious.

  “That is the sum of my knowledge of the library of the Coffin Island School for Witches of which I have learned nothing,” Madison said. “Or rather I have learned that these books are not going to teach me. Even the simpleton witches grasp that. Although some of the more ignorant ones learn this posthumously after the books kill them. I enjoy that particular Coffin Island inversion.”

  “It works on several levels,” I said.

  “Witchcraft often does,” Madison said.

  “Except when it’s not working,” I said.

  “In that instance,” Madison said. “It is attempting to lull us into complacency.”

  “Or it is resting for its next assault,” I said.

  “That too,” Madison nodded.

  “It’s a tricky little fish,” I said.

  “Witchcraft will demonstrate that concept for you,” Madison said. “Reach for the books.”

  I reached for the books but they moved away. I stopped moving. The books moved back towards me. I reached for them again. They moved even closer to me. I rushed towards them. They darted away. They were taunting me to follow them. They were trying to lure me within striking distance of Flash. Nice try with the flaming ape witchcraft, I thought.

  “I knew it,” I said.

  “They’re trying to kill us,” Madison confirmed.

  “They’re trying to burn us,” I said.

  “Learning kills,” Madison snorted.

  The flaming ape was bouncing up and down on the ceiling. He kept jumping up and down. He was landing back on the ceiling with a fiery thud. Gravity was reversed for him. Or rather gravity was reversed for us. He was screeching fire. He was pounding his flaming chest.

  “We call him Flash because he moves pretty fast,” Madison said. “He protects the mother cloud of books.”

  “Flash is stuck to the ceiling?” I asked.

  “He can’t come down here for a proper fight,” Madison said.

  “That’s too bad,” I said sarcastically. “He has to stay up there and do his illuminating thing.”

  “You’ll feel differently when you have to fight him up there in the ceiling,” Madison said. “His gravity is the opposite of ours. We are not made out of water. Flash is made out of fire.”

  “I don’t plan on going near him,” I said.

  “You can hear the books from here?” Madison asked.

  “Hear the books?” I asked.

  “The books speak in a language that no longer exists,” Madison said. “We call it mumbo jumbo because the books are kind of insulting. You’ll see.”

  “The books speak?” I asked. “What are they saying?”

  “They are in communication with each other,” Madison shrugged.

  “The writers are talking to each other?” I asked.

  “The writers are dead,” Madison said.

  “How are the books talking to each other?” I asked.

  “The books have taken on a life of their own,” Madison said.

  “They’ve moved past their authors,” I said.

  “Or the dead
writers are living in a new capacity,” Madison said. “Perhaps they are ghosts after all.”

  I had several ghosts growing up.

  “What are they saying?” I asked.

  “They’re debating literary theory,” Madison said.

  “That’s a good occupation for ghosts,” I said.

  “And then there is the more practical matter that they have up their dust jacket,” Madison said.

  “What’s that?” I asked. “I shudder to ask.”

  “Do remember how I told you that the teachers are in a prison within this prison?” Madison asked.

  “The teachers are in the books?” I gasped.

  “Where else would they be?” Madison asked.

  “Why would the books take them prisoner?” I asked.

  “The teachers tried to burn the books,” Madison said.

  “Why did they do that?” I asked.

  “To prevent us from learning,” Madison said.

  “How did the teachers get into the books?” I asked.

  “The books devoured them,” Madison said.

  “Serves them right,” I said.

  “The books have been holding the teachers for four hundred years,” Madison said. “Library time is relatively reliable.”

  “When do they come up for parole?” I asked.

  “They don’t,” Madison said.

  “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time,” I said.

  “I’d like to free the teachers,” Madison laughed.

  “They don’t sound like very good teachers,” I said.

  “We have to demonstrate that we are more powerful than the teachers,” Madison said. “We have to demonstrate that we are more powerful than the books.”

  “How do you propose to do that?” I asked.

  “We have to burn the library,” Madison said.

  “Burn the library?” I asked.

  “Why do you think that Flash is here?” Madison asked.

  “I hadn’t really considered that flaming apes theoretical underpinnings,” I said. “I just figured him for a lamp and a guard.”