by Amy Cross
I smile awkwardly, peering at the small window in case I get a chance to see the person on the other side.
"You want to see my face?" she asks, almost as if she can read my mind.
"I..." I pause. "No. It's fine."
"I don't know what I look like these days," she says. "I used to be beautiful, but... I think I'd rather not let you see me, if that's okay. I wouldn't want to have confirmation of my worst fears. But tell me... What's your name?"
"Claire," I say. "What's yours?"
"I've had a few names over the years," she replies. "Most people call me Fig."
"I should go back down," I say, taking a step back. "I'm not supposed to be up and about. I was told to stay in bed."
"Of course you were," the woman replies. "They wouldn't want a human wandering about, would they? Think of all the interesting things you might find. They want you to sit quietly and obediently in your bed until they're ready for you, but aren't you worried about what might happen? I don't know what it's like these days, but back when I was younger, human flesh was a rare delicacy. If I were you, I'd be worried about ending up on a grill."
"Thanks for the warning," I mutter.
"Do me a favor. If you happen to feel like coming up again, please don't hesitate. Even this brief, rather aimless conversation has been a great pleasure for me. I feel as if I've regained some of my senses. But don't worry if you don't get a chance. I'll understand. You probably have a lot to be doing, and entertaining a poor idiot won't be high on your list of priorities. I just... I hope you don't mind if I ask you this, but have we met before? You seem strangely familiar?"
I shake my head. She's the second person who's said something like that to me since I arrived in the Library, and it's starting to freak me out a little.
"Never mind," she continues. "I'm not to be trusted. My perception is probably all awry."
I pause for a moment. I want to go downstairs, but my curiosity is keeping me here. "Why are you here?" I ask eventually.
"Why am I where?" she replies.
"Here. In this prison. What did you do that made them lock you away up here for so long?"
"What do you -" She pauses, and then she laughs. "Oh, I see. I think perhaps you've misunderstood."
"They wouldn't just lock you away for no reason, would they?" I continue. "I mean, you must have done something, or they must have thought you'd done something..."
"Not quite," she says. "You're clearly not got the right end of the stick here. Why don't you come a few steps closer and take a proper look at this door?"
I take a deep breath, unsure as to whether I'd be safe if I approached her cell.
"I can't hurt you from in here," she adds. "Just take a couple of paces forward and see if you notice anything unusual about the door."
I take a single step and narrow my eyes as I try to work out what she's talking about. I look for some kind of sign on the door, or anything that might show me what she did. Even just a name might be enough, but there's nothing.
"Look at the lock," she says eventually.
I stare at the large metal mechanism that holds the door to the frame. After a moment, however, I realize that there's something wrong with what I'm seeing. Not only can I not see a keyhole, but I can't even see anything that's keeping the door closed. It's almost as if it's just been sealed up in some other way.
"The lock's on the inside," she continues, "and I'm the only one with a key. No-one locked me in here, Claire. I locked myself away so that no-one can get to me, and believe me, they've tried. They've smashed against the door as hard as they can, but they weren't able to reach me. I'm never coming out. Not ever. Why would I? I'm safe in here forever."
"Safe from who?" I ask.
"Another time," she replies. "After all, I have to keep a little mystery going, don't I? Otherwise you'd never bother to come and visit me again."
Smiling awkwardly, I turn and hurry back to the top of the steps.
"Goodbye, Claire," Fig calls out. "See you soon, I hope!"
"Bye," I mutter as I head back down to the lower levels of the Citadel. Something about that Fig woman really made my skin crawl, and I'm not certain that I buy her claim that she's responsible for locking herself in the cell. After all, what could possibly make someone want to hide away for so many years? I hurry back along the various corridors and passages, desperately trying to find my way to my room, but after a while I realize I'm lost. Eventually, however, I spot a familiar door, and I rush into my room only to find Natalia waiting for me.
"Well," she says, looking over at me sternly. "I can see I'm going to have to find some other way to make sure you don't go wandering off. But first, you need to come with me. Someone has requested the pleasure of your company."
Vanguard
"Do you not worry about this book?" I ask the Elder as we hurry together to the archive room. "Do you not fear that we could be walking into a trap?"
"What trap?" he asks, pushing the door open and leading me into the research galleries. "They have told us what they want, and quite frankly I think it's a very small price to pay. A book is a book. It's pieces of paper, stitched or glued together under a cover. It's nothing. If they think this book has value, then I'm happy to let them believe such a thing."
"It seems too easy," I point out.
"If only we'd known earlier," he says, as we reach the archive room. A large, airy chamber with a series of metal pipes running across the high ceiling, the archive room is the depository of knowledge for the entire land. Previously, this place was considered a back-up, since all necessary knowledge was held by the Librarian; since the Librarian's sudden departure, however, the archive room has become the most important part of the Citadel. If there is any information about the first book, this is where it will be found.
"Caliko!" the Elder calls out. "We need you!"
"This book," I say, still feeling a little uncomfortable about the situation. "Do you know nothing of its purpose or history?"
"I doubt there's anyone who knows much about it," he replies. "It's just one book among billions."
"Yet the Forbidders desire it so greatly, they are willing to destroy the Library and tear our world apart."
"Perhaps they're superstitious," the Elder says, before calling out again for the archivist. "Caliko!" he shouts. "Hurry!"
"We must be certain that we know what we're doing," I tell him. "I am not willing to just hand over this book until we can be sure that we're not making a terrible mistake."
"And what kind of mistake might that be?" he asks, turning to me. "The mistake of saving our world? The mistake of ending the war? The mistake of sacrificing a book in order to prevent more death? Think back to how the Library used to be before the Forbidders arrived. We can have that world again, if we just give them what they want." He pauses for a moment. "I know you're a warrior, Vanguard. I know your instinct is to fight, but in this instance, fighting is not the solution. Yes, we're capitulating to their demands, but I see no sensible alternative. It's just a book. One book. And for the cost of that book, we bring peace back to our land. Of course we're going to give them the book."
Hearing the sound of clicking nearby, I turn to find Caliko approaching. He has the shape and form of a large grasshopper, several meters long, and he makes his way slowly along one of the tunnels that leads from the depths of the archive. As he looks at us, his antennae twitch and he rubs his rear legs together to create a slight chirruping sound.
"Visitors?" he asks, seeming surprised. "I haven't had visitors for nearly a thousand years. I thought people had given up wanting to know anything about the collection. I thought everything had gone digital."
"We need the first book," the Elder says. "The very first book. The first book that ever existed in any world. Do you know of its location?"
"The very first book?" Caliko asks, turning to me. "Why do you want that old thing?"
"We've made a bargain with the Forbidders," the Elder tells him. "All we have to do is
hand over that one book, and the war will be over."
"War?" Caliko turns to him, and then back to me. "Forbidders? I'm sorry. I've been down here alone for a long time. Perhaps I haven't kept up with developments." He rubs his legs together again. "I really should arrange for the delivery of a newspaper. I'm so desperately out of touch."
"A war has ravaged half the land," I tell him. "The Forbidders have flooded into the Library, looking for the very first book. Are you seriously telling us that you had no idea that any of this was happening?"
He stares at me. "Like I said," he replies eventually, "news doesn't really reach me down here. I spend so much of my time in the tunnels. But why do you need my help? Can't you just ask the Librarian?"
"He's gone," the Elder says.
"Gone?" The change in Caliko's disposition is immediate, and the sense of panic in his voice is palpable. "Where has he gone? Is he coming back?" He leans closer to me. "What do you mean... gone?"
"He fled," I explain. "He ran when the Forbidders came, and it's very unlikely that he'll return. Even if he came back, I'm not certain it would be wise to elevate him to his old status."
"So there might be a position to be filled?" Caliko asks. "There might be a vacancy?"
"We can worry about that later," the Elder says. "Tell us where to find the first book. The sooner we can hand it over to them, the sooner we can bring peace to the Library."
"The first book," Caliko mutters, seemingly lost in thought. "I'd imagine such an item would have to be very, very old. Are we talking about the very first book written in any of the seven worlds?"
"The very first," the Elder replies.
"Then it would be a miracle for such a thing to exist today," Caliko continues. "Even if it had not been destroyed in the war, it would be so fragile. Do you have any idea how much damage can be caused to a book when one simply reads a few pages? Every second that the pages are exposed to air, the paper will degrade a little further; every time you turn from one page to the next, you place more pressure on the spine. Eventually the spine would probably be the first thing to fall apart. Of course, one could fix it up a little, but at the end of the day it would all just happen again. There's only so much one can do to keep a book whole."
"Are you saying that this book no longer exists?" I ask.
"I'm saying that it must be in a terrible condition," he replies. "No book can last forever. Are you sure that these Forbidders wouldn't be happy with a second or third edition? I could probably rustle something up quite quickly."
"It must be the first," the Elder insists. "They will know. They do not have the title, but they will know if we try to trick them. They want the very first book that was ever written, and they want the original copy."
Sighing, Caliko turns and walks over to a desk at the far end of the room. He opens a folder and starts leafing through the pages, muttering to himself in the process. After a few minutes, he closes the first folder and opens a second, and it becomes painfully clear that this will not be a quick process.
"Is there no central record of such things?" I ask, growing impatient. "Surely the Librarian would have noted the existence of the very first book, if only as a symbol of the foundation of the Library."
"The Librarian was not given much to nostalgia," Caliko replies, still going through the second folder. "He was a man who liked to focus on the present day, rather than endlessly delving into the past. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he threw away the first book when it became too tatty to be used. He'd rather use the shelf space for something more -" He pauses, and then he peers closer at one of the pages in the folder. "I might have found something," he says, "though I'm not sure..." His voice falls quiet as he continues to read.
"Where is it?" the Elder asks, hurrying over to him. "Do you have it?"
"Hang on!" Caliko says, brushing him aside. "This is..." His voice trails off again as he reads quietly to himself. "According to the Librarian's own notes," he says eventually, turning to the Elder, "the very first book was, indeed, kept in a sacred place. Few were given the right to even know of its existence, and none were permitted to open it. It seems the Librarian was very keen to make sure it couldn't become damaged, so he went to great lengths to keep it hidden from the rest of the Library."
"So it wasn't on a shelf?" the Elder asks. "That means it's here somewhere?"
"It means it's in the Librarian's primary archive," Caliko says, turning and hurrying across the room. He opens a small door and slips through. "Come on," he calls back to us. "I suppose you two might as well come and see it!" He makes straight for a desk over by the window; opening one of the drawers, he takes out a small wooden box and brings it over to us. "This is where he keeps the book," he explains, lifting the lid.
"It's empty," I reply, staring into the box.
"So it is," Caliko says, leaning around to see for himself. "Come to think of it, I did see the Librarian come rushing in here a couple of hundred years ago. He seemed very agitated, but I didn't bother to ask if anything was wrong. I tend not to be very interested in other people, you know..."
"He took the book?" the Elder asks, his face lined with fear. He turns to me. "Why would he do that? Why would he take the book and then run from the Citadel? It's almost as if he understood what the Forbidders were after, and was determined to make sure they could never get it."
"These Forbidders," Caliko says, not sounding particularly concerned. "Will they be upset if they can't get the book they want?"
"They'll be more than upset," the Elder replies. "By taking this book and running away, the Librarian has quite possibly doomed our entire world forever."
Claire
"Sharpe!" I say, shocked to see him sitting by the main gate as Natalia leads me into a large, empty chamber. It's crazy, but since I've been at the Citadel, I've actually come to miss both Vanguard and Sharpe. I hurry over to him, but it's clear from the troubled look on his face that something's wrong. "What is it?" I ask, kneeling next to him. "What's happening?"
"Come back to your room when you're finished," Natalia says. "I'll leave you two alone, but you must promise me that you'll come straight back up."
"I promise," I say. As I hear her footsteps heading away, I look into Sharpe's eyes and find that he seems reluctant to look straight at me. "Okay," I say after a moment. "Out with it. What's the problem?"
"I have to go away," he says, glancing at me hesitantly. "I only ever intended to get you here, and now I'm off. This was my job and..." His voice trails off for a moment. "I should probably have just slipped away, but I needed to see you one final time. It's been so long."
"Why do you have to go?" I ask. "You're safer here."
"I doubt it," he replies. "An emissary arrived from the Forbidders earlier. He made his demands, and of course the Elder went rushing off to see what he could do. It's a fool's errand, and I don't want to witness the consequences." He takes a deep breath, and I see tears welling up in his eyes. "A long time ago, Claire, I was given a mission. It was a very simple mission, but very important. I was told that failure on my part could lead to disaster for the entire Library. The problem is, I think maybe I've got it all wrong."
"What was the mission?"
"That's part of the problem," he continues. "I can't tell you. I can't tell anyone. I swore, on pain of death. The best thing for me to do is to go, and to never come back. At least that way, I can delude myself into thinking that perhaps everything will work out for the best here, even though..." He pauses. "A time of great suffering is coming. Worse than everything that has come before. There comes a war beyond all wars, and the world is going to crack open. Not just this world, either, but all the others. All except one. I know I can't run forever, but I'm going to try. At least I'll be able to delay the inevitable."
"Why don't you come with me instead?" I ask.
"With you?" He frowns. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Home," I remind him. "That's the whole reason I came to this stupid building in t
he first place. You and Vanguard told me you'd help me find a way home. Remember?"
He smiles, but it's a sad, fake smile. "We did promise you that, didn't we?"
"Well?" I reply. "Doesn't it still stand? You're going to get me home, aren't you?"
"That part of my promise has, at least, been fulfilled."
"Not quite," I point out. "I'm not home yet."
"Yes," he replies. "You are. This is where you belong. There's no magic portal back to the human world, Claire. There's no route away from here. Everything that's about to happen... It has to happen with you in the middle. I wish I could explain more, but I made a promise many, many years ago, and I have to stick to my word. The Librarian himself swore me to secrecy."
"This Librarian guy," I say. "Where is he, anyway?"
"Oh, he's long gone," Sharpe says. "He said he was going, anyway. That's not the part that matters. He played his role, and then he had to leave. He took something with him, something that the Forbidders must never, ever possess. He allowed others to think of him as a coward, because he knew it was the only way he could prevent them from ever working out where he'd gone."
"Wait a minute," I say, thinking back to my encounter with Fig. "This Librarian. Are you sure he's male? He couldn't be female, could he?"
"Female? No. Definitely not. I spent plenty of time with him. He had a beard, and a deep, gravelly voice. Definitely a man. Why do you ask?"
"I met someone today," I tell him. "Up high in the Citadel. A woman who'd locked herself in a room. I guess I just thought for a moment that maybe there'd been some confusion."
"That's not the Librarian," Sharpe says. "I don't know who that woman might be. Unless..." He pauses. "No, there's no-one. And it doesn't matter. Don't let yourself get distracted, Claire. Don't go running around trying to solve mysteries that won't help. The most important thing is that you're here when the Forbidders arrive."
