by Amy Cross
"Stop!" Natalia shouts at the Grandapams who have raced ahead of us. She's too late, however, and another piece of rock crashes down, crunching two Grandapams into the ground and pinning a third against one of the shelves.
"Hold her!" Natalia says, as another Grandapam grabs my arm. Hurrying over to the male who has been pushed against the shelves, Natalia removes a dagger from her belt. "Your injuries are too great," she says, before plunging the tip of the dagger into the Grandapam's heart.
"It's collapsing!" shouts one of the others.
Turning, we all look up at the Citadel just in time to see its highest spires starting to crumble down into the center of the building. A huge cloud of dust rises up and there's an ear-splitting cracking sound, as the main part of the building crashes down, and finally the noise starts to fade away, leaving us to stand and stare at the burning pile of rubble. The entire Citadel has been destroyed, along with several of the closest aisles, and thick black smoke rises into the sky as the building burns.
"How many people were in there?" I ask, turning to Natalia. "Was Vanguard in there?"
"The people are unimportant," she replies. "Of more importance is the fact that we lost four of our own number this afternoon. We must be more careful as we make our way to the rendezvous point with the Emissary. Our numbers are limited and we can't allow our forces to be further depleted."
"How much further?" asks one of the other Grandapams.
"A few miles," Natalia says. "From there, we should be granted safe passage back to our own world. The Emissary will be waiting for us." She turns to me. "Are you looking forward to the final moment, Claire? Soon, you'll be able to cast off your human body and retake your old form. You'll become a book again. The first book. The most important book. The book that will save the Library and restore order to the seven worlds. I hope you're suitably proud of yourself." She steps toward me, and there's a glint in her eyes that suggests she genuinely believes what she's saying. "This is your destiny," she adds. "Don't see it as death, Claire. Don't even think in those terms. Life and death are such old, tired things. This is something else entirely. This is the purpose for which you were born. This is the destiny of the seven worlds, being brought together by your transformation."
Vanguard
Pushing aside another piece of stone, I finally emerge from the pile of rubble. The torch has been extinguished, so I can't see a thing, but I can feel that there's a huge amount of debris all around me, and an agonizingly heavy weight pressing down onto my back. A lesser creature would certainly have been crushed to death, and as I scramble through the darkness, I realize that my strength is flagging. I pause for a moment, trying to summon the energy required to make my way free, but I have no idea how much rubble has fallen on top of me. Finally, I take a deep breath and push my way up, fighting through a series of huge rocks until eventually I emerge into a pitch-black chamber.
Hauling myself out from under the rocks, I take a moment to regather my composure. I clearly have several broken and crushed bones, and a large number of cuts; although I can see nothing in the darkness, I can feel that my body has been badly damaged. I will heal, of course, but such things take time. Others, though, will likely be less fortunate.
"Weary!" I call out, before collapsing into a coughing fit. The air is thick with dust.
No reply.
"Weary!" I wait, listening out for any hint of movement. If he's trapped, I might still be able to dig him out. The ominous silence, however, confirms what I had suspected: Weary did not survive the cave-in. His body was most likely flattened under the huge amount of debris that collapsed into the corridor. Even in the unlikely event that he survived, he will have been knocked unconscious, and he will probably suffocate. There is no point expending precious energy on a search that is bound to end in failure.
Catching my breath, I look around, hoping to maybe adjust to the darkness and see something. Whatever happened, it is almost as if the entire Citadel collapsed into the catacombs, although I cannot believe for a moment that such a thing would be possible. As I haul myself across the debris, I reach down and feel a sharp pain on my leg: a large piece of flesh has been ripped away, and my fingertips brush against a protruding piece of bone. The leg has been snapped like a twig, and my foot is twisted at a right angle to the rest of my body.
"Weary!" I shout again, just in case there's still a chance that he might be alive. Finally, I sit on a pile of rocks and feel my leg, finding that the bone is snapped just above the ankle. Taking a deep breath, I grab the two fractured pieces of bone and break a few smaller, sharper fragments away, before snapping the leg back into shape. The pain is intense, and I cannot keep from letting out a scream, but finally the job is done and the healing process can at least begin. Still, it will take some time before I am healed, and the injury will certainly slow my progress. It is hard to believe that I have any chance of making my way out of here, but I cannot give up. Not yet.
Suddenly, I hear a noise nearby. Turning, I stare into the darkness. It's as if some kind of creature is moving through the darkness, though I am quite certain that it is not Weary. Whatever this thing is, it seems to be slithering across the rocks, making its way closer and closer. My first thought is that it might be an Anh Snake, but such a creature would undoubtedly have already attacked. As the noise removes around me, I realize that the creature is sizing me up, and it probably has the advantage of being able to see me in the darkness.
"I'm ready for you," I say, trying to keep looking at the source of the noise as it moves. "If you wish to die today, come at me and we shall see who has the stronger hands."
The creature continues to slither nearby, and for a moment I hear the sound of laughter.
"Are you scared?" I ask, raising my voice. "You would be wise to fear me. I am a Lord of the House of Lacanth. I have slain ten thousand men. I have led armies around the entire circumference of the Library. If you believe you can take me on, I welcome the challenge, but I can assure you that you will fall."
"Hello, Vanguard," says a female voice nearby.
I instantly tense up and reach for my sword, removing it from the sheath and holding it out in front of me. I know that this is largely a futile gesture, since I can't see a thing, but I cannot allow myself to remain unarmed. Whatever this creature might be, it has a distinct advantage over me.
"Fancy meeting you down here," the voice continues. "How long has it been? Hundreds, maybe even thousands of years. You're looking well, though. The years have been kind to you, even if the past few minutes have been a little cruel. You'll recover, I'm sure."
"I do not know you," I reply firmly, turning to the direction from which the voice seems to be coming.
"Do you not?"
"You're a coward," I continue. "If I had met you before, I would have killed you."
"Charming," she says, sounding amused by my words. There's a slithering sound, as if some kind of serpent is moving across the rocks. "I didn't think my voice had changed that much," she continues, suddenly much closer. "Have you forgotten me so easily, Vanguard? Has my name slipped from your memory? Perhaps your mind is failing, Vanguard, or perhaps I just wasn't that memorable. Tell me, is your life's history filled with the likes of me? Have you entertained a succession of warriors whose lives you've torn asunder? Just how many people have you left for dead, thinking you would never have to face them again?"
"What is your name?" I ask.
"Are you teasing me?" she replies.
"I do not tolerate fools."
"Perhaps, on this occasion, you have no choice. I am determined to make you remember me, Vanguard. Anything else would be cheating."
"I am not young," I say, turning as the slithering sound moves behind me. "I cannot be expected to remember the name of everyone I have encountered. Do you have any idea how many enemies I have faced across the battlefield? If you have nothing to fear, why do you not reveal yourself to me?"
"Oh, but I'm so offended, Vanguard," she says. "Grante
d, it has been a long time since we last met, but I really thought I'd made an impression on you. After all, we spent quite a while in one another's company, and things certainly seemed to become strained after a while. I supposed I allowed myself to get carried away, didn't I? I allowed myself to believe that you would be haunted by my memory, that you would rejoice in the knowledge that I'm alive. Foolish notions, perhaps, but they helped me through the dark days."
Trying to get to my feet, I feel a sharp pain in my back. The collapsing ceiling clearly did more damage than I had realized, and I fear I am in no position to defend myself. The metal chains beneath my skin have shielded me to some extent, but now they weight me down.
"You're struggling," the voice says.
"I am not."
"What's wrong?" she continues. "Are you hurt? That was quite a weight you took just now. The weight of an entire world. I wouldn't be surprised if you'd been flattened entirely. I mean, that's what happened to your little friend. I took a look at him just now. I was able to make my way between the cracks in the rubble, and finally I came face to face with him. He's buried under several feet of rock and stone, and he's been absolutely squashed in places. Would you believe, his dead eyes stared at me with a look of total shock, as if he couldn't believe what was happening to him, even as he died? I wish I had better news, Vanguard, but you must have known when you led him down here that he would have no chance of survival." She slithers behind me again. "Then again, you've never been one to shy away from difficult decisions, have you? How many people have you sent to their deaths, Vanguard? Poor Weary was just one of many, was he not? He was a life you deemed worth sacrificing. I suppose he thought he had a chance. Perhaps he believed you'd protect him. I guess he didn't know you very well, did he?"
"Are you going to tell me your name?" I ask, taking a deep breath as I try to work out which parts of my body are functioning properly. "Or do I have to squeeze your throat until you tell me with dying breath?"
"Have patience," she replies. "You're not in a position to issue threats. Besides, you really are a rather aggressive type, aren't you? More so than I remember. It's so hard to give you what you want. Time has not improved you. You've grown older and more bitter, and you've certainly become bigger. Why all the metal, Vanguard? Why do you have metal under your skin? It makes you look so much bigger and so thuggish. Are you hiding something?"
"I hide nothing," I tell her, staring into the darkness. "You know my name, and I do not know yours, yet you accuse me of keeping secrets?"
"The only reason I haven't told you my name," she replies, "is that I'm waiting for you to remember me. Come on, dig deep into your past. Surely it hasn't been so long, Vanguard? Surely you've never met anyone like me? When I say that I'm offended by your lack of care, I'm not putting on a show. I truly believed you would know me by now. Think back, old man. Think back to your days with the Soldiers of Tea, when we stood together."
"You were never with the Soldiers of Tea," I say bitterly. "The Soldiers of Tea were honorable and worthy men. Not one of their number could ever have degenerated to become a creature such as you."
"I couldn't agree more," she says. "I didn't claim that I was a member of the order myself, merely that I stood with some of their number from time to time. Think back to the Battle of Bokstaven, or to the time you crossed the Accelsis River. Think back to the shore of the void. Who made you look at your own reflection? Who slipped nightmares into your ear while you were asleep? Do you still not remember me, Vanguard? Has my name become lost in the history of your life?"
Ignoring her taunting voice, I start crawling through the darkness. Although everything seems lost, I learned during my time with the Soldiers of Tea that a warrior never gives up. Above me, there's a heavy creaking sound, as if more of the ceiling might be about to collapse. In my current debilitated state, I am not certain that I could survive any more injuries. If there is another cave-in, I might very well be finished.
"That's the Citadel," the voice says. "The whole thing, destroyed. Grandapams were responsible, I believe. They destroyed the supporting walls using explosives, so the entire structure came crashing down. You're literally trapped beneath the palace you sought to protect, Vanguard. There's some irony in that fact, surely? Or are you not a big fan of irony?"
As I crawl forward, I suddenly find myself coming up against a sheer rock-face. Trying to find a way around the barrier, I fumble in the darkness.
"Do you want me to give you a clue?" the voice asks.
After a moment, I manage to find what seems to be some kind of narrow passageway. I crawl across the rubble, desperately hoping to see light up ahead as I drag my broken body through the darkness. Eventually, my hands brush against bone, and I feel the familiar contours of a skull against my fingertips. Moving my hand, I find another, and then another, and finally I realize that they are arranged together to form a kind of wall.
"The Battle at Sadhm's Wharf," she says. "Remember that? Remember how you led all those men to their deaths? They followed you blindly, Vanguard, as if they believed you to be their savior. How foolish men can be, when they're lured by the dream of honor and glory. Or what about the Galvarian Link? Surely you remember being tossed over the edge of the fourth world? Someone rescued you from the void, Vanguard. Someone saved your life. Don't you even remember that?"
Pausing, I realize I can no longer block out her taunting words. I turn back to face the direction from which her voice is coming, and a slithering sound brings her closer.
"You do remember, don't you?" she says, her voice just a few inches from my face. "I'm pulling at a thread in your memory, and it's all coming back to you slowly. You remember how my hand reached out and grabbed you, hauling you back from oblivion." After a moment, I feel something brushing against my hand. "Come on, Vanguard. I know it's been a long time, but you remember me. I know you do. Was our time together so horrific that you had to block it from your mind completely?" Something long and wet and slimy slithers around my body, as if I'm being drawn into the coils of a serpent. "I still remember the day I learned you'd taken a wife," she continues, with sadness in her voice. "I remember the sorrow I felt when I realized you'd never come to visit me in my little self-imposed prison at the top of the Citadel. Who could have foreseen that one day my tiny cell would come crashing all the way to the bottom of this miserable place, and I'd emerge right next to you, my darling?"
Feeling a cold shiver run through my body, I finally realize the name that has been eluding me. It's a name that I never thought I'd speak again; the name of someone I thought had died many, many years ago. My mind races as the memories come flooding back.
"This is not possible," I say firmly.
"Say it," she whispers. "Say my name again, after so long."
"You are dead."
"No," she says. "I am not. Now say my name, so that I know you remember me."
I pause for a moment. "Fig," I say eventually, as she hisses with delight, spraying my face with a fine mist of venom.
Book 6:
The Soldiers of Tea
Claire
"You seem scared," Natalia says as we walk along the aisle, heading for our rendezvous with the Emissary. Above us, the sky seems to be building up to a particularly violent storm, with hints of bright white light starting to show through from behind the clouds. If I didn't know better, I'd say the end up the world is brewing up there.
"How many people died back there?" I ask, glancing back toward the ruins of the Citadel.
"Any lives lost were merely collateral damage," she replies, her voice almost entirely devoid of emotion. "Sometimes, sacrifices must be made in order that a world can be saved. In this case, the future of two worlds is in the balance. In that context, can you really mourn a handful of lives that were already due to be extinguished soon?"
"They were still lives," I point out.
"They were not Grandapams," she replies.
"And that makes it okay?"
"It makes it
more palatable. After all the misery my people have endured over the years, I find it hard to feel bad for other species when they are forced to suffer."
"Well," I reply sarcastically, "when you put it like that, I guess everything's fine, huh?"
"I am glad you understand," Natalia says.
"I wasn't being serious," I say with a sigh. "I was... Never mind."
"Sometimes I find it hard to understand what you're trying to say," she replies. "You saw one thing, but the inflection of your voice is supposed to make it clear that you mean the opposite. This is confusing."
"What's happening up there?" I ask, looking toward the sky. The clouds, which were previously dark blue, have begun to take on a reddish tinge, and it feels as if a kind of dark thrall is settling across the Library. "Tell me it's not what I think it is," I add.
"What do you think it is?"
"The end of the world."
"Not the end," she replies with a slight smile. "The beginning. A new beginning for the Library, and for the Grandapams."
"Still looks pretty ominous," I say quietly.
"I can't be certain", she continues, "but I believe the Forbidders might already be opening a gateway between this world and their own. Such things are not an everyday occurrence, but I have no doubt that the Forbidders are more than aware of how the links operate. It was once written that no-one could find a way to pass between the seven worlds, but various species soon discovered how to make such journeys. The Forbidders, in particular, have shown great eagerness to traverse the void. Soon, they will open up an additional link to my world, and order will be restored."
"It looks like Hell up there," I say quietly.
"You have already traveled between worlds twice, Claire. Once when you left the Library to go to the human world, and once when you came back. On those occasions, you were able to slip neatly across the void, but the Forbidders evidently prefer a more direct approach. They're going to rip open a link in the heavens. We should be honored to have a chance at seeing such a wondrous event. How many other members of your species have witnessed such a marvel?"
