by Amy Cross
"There," Carstairs says, staring at the skeletal airman. "In ordinary circumstances, I'd give him a good Christian burial, but these most certainly are not ordinary circumstances. Still, there are some cultures here in the Library who raise their most revered and respected priests and place their bodies on top of the shelves in precisely this manner, and I'm sure Jimmy wouldn't mind being given such an honor."
"Were you friends?" I ask after a moment.
"We flew together," Carstairs replies. "That's better than being friends." He pauses. "Now come on, Thomas. This cockamamie plan is already on its last legs, so let's hurry things along, eh?"
Stepping carefully around the dead body, I follow Carstairs as he climbs back into the cockpit. It's not easy to maneuver my way around the front seat, but with a little ingenuity and some awkward stretching, I'm finally able to slip into the rear seat. I can't help but think about the fact that a corpse has been rotting in this exact spot for the past few decades, but with a deep breath I tell myself to focus on the fact that we're going to try to set off after my parents. Then again, I'm still not quite sure of the plan; the plane is resolutely pointed down toward the ground, and as Carstairs straps himself in up-front, I can't help worrying that we're just wasting time.
"Now what?" I shout.
"Now the Angel will perform a little magic," he replies.
"But the Angel's just..." I pause, trying to wrap my mind around the whole thing. "It's not an angel, is it? It's just a plane!"
"A plane with a mind," he shouts back. "A plane that has grown a soul over the years, thanks to all those people who came and prayed to it and offered it their faith. Most importantly, a plane that has picked up a few tricks."
"I'm ready," the Angel says, her voice sounding clear and calm even though it's not immediately clear where, exactly, that voice is coming from; it's almost as if it's just slipping into my mind from all around. "I cannot guarantee a smooth ride," she adds. "I'll do my best, but you might need to hang on."
"Strap yourself in!" Carstairs shouts back to me.
Fumbling with the straps, it takes me a few seconds to work out how to fit them together. Just as I get the job done, however, there's a huge creaking sound and the entire plane seems to lurch, banging its side against one of the shelves. I try to steady myself, but suddenly the main body starts to tilt back, and as I look up I see the vast, starry sky come into view, accompanied by the sound of metal grinding against wood.
"You okay back there?" Carstairs shouts.
"Totally!" I shout back, even though it's a lie. The plane lurches again, and then again, and I have no idea quite what's happening. Now that we're level, however, rain is pouring into the cockpit, although on the plus side the sky seems to be brightening a little.
"Sunrise soon!" Carstairs shouts. "Hang on! This might be a bumpy takeoff!"
"Takeoff?" I reply, before looking out the side of the cockpit just as the plane bumps against the shelf again. With more than a little shock, I realize that we're now not only the right way up, but we're also parked on top of one of the shelves.
"She doesn't have a lot of fuel left!" Carstairs shouts. "There's enough to get us to the horizon point, though! Hopefully!" As he's speaking, a loud rumble starts up deeper in the plane, and suddenly the engine starts up, sending powerful vibrations through the metal.
"How are we going to take off?" I shout. "We don't have a runway!"
"Don't we?" he shouts back.
I open my mouth to reply, but suddenly the entire plane jolts forward, and I realize to my horror that we're starting to get going. Looking out the side of the cockpit, I can't help but notice that we're making our way along the top of one of the shelves, and finally I realize that this is the makeshift runway we're going to be using. I want to shout out to Carstairs that the whole idea is insane, but the plane is already getting faster and faster, bumping along as it tries to pick up enough speed to take off.
"Hang on!" Carstairs shouts.
I grab hold of the rails on either side of my seat. We're getting faster and faster, but it still seems impossible to think that we might actually get up into the air. Leaning to one side, I look ahead and see that we're fast approaching a junction where this shelf stops. For a moment, I'm convinced that we're going to go crashing down into the aisle, but at the last second the plane lurches up into the air and flies over the gap, before coming down hard on the other side and continuing to race along the top of the next shelf.
"Nearly there!" Carstairs shouts back to me. "She's still a bit rusty, you know?"
Filled with panic, I'm unable to say anything. All I can do is hold on for dear life as the plane gets faster and faster, juddering along the top of the shelf until finally we start to climb again. I lean past Carstairs' seat and look ahead, just as the plane jolts a little to one side, but we're definitely flying, even if we're only a meter or two above the top of the shelves. The engine is spitting and roaring through the rain, but there's a lot of wind and seconds later we suddenly drop; the plane's wheels bang against the top of another shelf before we rise again, and it's clear that the plane is having trouble staying airborne. Slowly we start to climb, getting a little higher above the shelves even though the wind is still buffeting us, and for a fraction of a second the engine seems to be struggling and maybe stalling before it picks up again.
"I think we might have done it!" Carstairs shouts.
Not daring to say anything, I look down at the tops of the shelves as we fly over them. It's crazy to think that we were down there earlier, traipsing along, and now we're up here, flying directly over the Library. Spotting a figure walking along one of the aisles, I see the look of shock in his eyes and he glances up at us, and I'm pretty sure he faints as we swoop low and continue on our way.
"They don't really have planes in the Library!" Carstairs continues. "I imagine the locals are going to get quite a shock when they see us!"
As he speaks, the plane tilts to the left, rising a little through the rain. Up ahead, the storm-clouds are starting to part and the first rays of morning sun are breaking through. I try to stay calm and focus on the fact that we're finally on the trail of my parents, but after a moment I look down and watch as the faintest impression of the plane's shadow passes over the tops of the shelves beneath us. The Library looks so calm from up here, and even the city of Papyr looks kind of beautiful when viewed from afar, with its fortress citadel rising above the squalid aisles. For the first time since I arrived in this world, I have a chance to look out across its beauty and appreciate its vastness.
It's hard to believe that a place like this could be real. But it is.
Alice Never
"What the hell is that?" Table shouts, stopping suddenly.
As I reach her, I look up and spot a dark shape moving quickly across the sky. It takes a moment before I'm able to work out exactly what I'm seeing, and even when I recognize it, I'm still not sure that it can be possible.
"I think..." I pause, as the shape swoops low and heads toward the horizon. "I think it's a plane," I say eventually.
"A what?" Table asks.
"A plane. An old one. Like, from the war or something."
"Is it dangerous?" Nodby asks, hurrying along after us. Without having to carry his box, he can move faster than before, but this increased speed is countered by his massively heightened sense of paranoia. "Maybe we should hide," he adds. "Just for an hour or two, until it's gone."
"It's not dangerous," I tell him, keeping my eye on the plane as it gets further and further away. "I didn't know you had things like that in the Library."
"We don't," Table says darkly. "Not in any part of the Library I've ever heard of, anyway." She pauses again, before turning to me. "Come on. We need to keep moving."
"Are you sure we can make it?" I ask as we set off again, making our way as quickly as possible through the large amounts of mud that have collected in the Library overnight. Even though the rain has almost completely stopped and the first rays of
sun are starting to appear in the distance, the ground is like a bog and it's hard to move at much more than walking speed.
"If we're slowed, then they're slowed too," Table replies. "The only problem is, they had a head-start."
"What about the Emissary?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder and spotting the citadel of Papyr in the distance. "Are you sure he -"
"He's not dead," Table says firmly, "so you don't need to beat yourself up about that. Trust me, the guy's got a reputation for surviving. He goes around attaching himself to various causes, always thinking he can gain power, but he usually ends up like this. You'd think he might have given up by now."
"I'm sorry I let him capture you," I tell her. "I just thought -"
"Don't worry about it," she says quickly. "I guess we're even now, though. Don't start harping on about how I left you back in the desert." She stops suddenly and turns to me. "Even though that was a really bad thing to do. I'm..." She pauses. "You know."
"I'm sorry too," I tell her.
"That's the word I was trying to think of," she replies as Nodby hurries past us. "Where I come from... Where I've been... People leave other people to die once they're done with them."
"You didn't leave your family to die," I reply. "You told me, you made sure they had food before you left."
"Yeah, but that was back when I had a soul." She pauses, and for a moment a look of surprise seems to cross he face. "Huh," she adds. "I guess I have a soul again, don't I? That's gonna take some getting used to. I suppose it's a good thing. Mostly, anyway. I hope I don't start getting all mawkish and ethical. That'd require a serious change to my lifestyle. I've never been one for worrying about whether I'm doing the right thing. I just care about what I need to do in order to survive."
"I'm sure -"
"Wait!" she says, interrupting me with a look of shock on her face. "Even the fact that I'm worrying about this is new. I never even worried about possibly becoming ethical and moral before. This is new. Very new." She pauses, as if the sensation is completely alien to her. "I don't like it. It feels like... weakness."
"You'll get used to it," I tell her.
"Come on!" Nodby shouts, having raced ahead of us. "This is the first time in my life I've ever been the one telling other people to hurry up! We don't have much time!"
"Oh, I don't like this," Table mutters as we follow him through the mud. "Morals are for other people. I feel... dirty inside."
"Great," I reply with a faint smile. "I guess you'll have something to remember me by."
Thomas Never
"This might be a little rough if we -"
Before Carstairs can finish, the wheels of the plane hit the ground and we bounce along the surface of the desert for a few meters before lifting up and then banging down again, this time skidding a little as we come to a halt in a cloud of dust.
"Cover your mouth!" Carstairs shouts from the front of the cockpit.
With my sleeve over my face, I wait as the cloud starts to settle, and then I start unbuckling the safety straps that have been holding me in.
"We're in the desert!" Carstairs calls out to me.
"I guessed!" I reply, climbing out of the seat and looking out over the side of the cockpit. It's hard to see anything much, given all the sand, but my heart is racing as I realize that after such a long journey, we might finally be about to find my parents again.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get us closer," the Angel says, her voice still sounding calm and collected. "I still have a little fuel left, but I need to conserve it for the journey back."
"Where are they?" I shout as I jump down from the plane, landing hard on the sand. Nearby, there are several ruined old bookshelves, but I don't see any sign of life.
"Hang on," Carstairs says, climbing down and joining me as I hurry away from the plane. "They have to be around here somewhere. They can't have -" He pauses, before pointing into the distance. "There!"
Turning, I see that he's right. A few hundred meters away, framed against the early morning sky, there are two hunched, limping human figures making their way toward some kind of stone structure; all around the human figures, there are various small round creatures that seem to be hurrying them along. The low morning sun means that their shadows are cast long, but although it's impossible to make out any of their features, I can tell in my heart that the two figures are my parents.
"Go on, then," Carstairs says with a faint smile. "What are you waiting for?"
"Stop!" I shout, setting off across the sand as fast as possible. Up ahead, I can see the figures stopping and turning to look over in my direction, but I don't know if they've actually recognized me yet. The little round creatures are still scurrying around them, as if they're trying to get my parents to keep moving toward the stone structure, but as I get closer I realize that they must be able to see me by now.
"Thomas?" my mother calls out, hurrying toward me.
"Stop!" I shout. "Don't go through that gate!"
Finally I reach her, slamming into her with such force that she almost falls backward. Putting my arms around her waist, I hold on tight for a moment before stepping back and seeing that although she's smiling, there's blood on her shirt and a pained expression in her eyes.
"What are you doing here?" she asks, her voice sounding a little darker and grainier than usual, as if she's fighting against her injuries. "Where's your sister?"
"I don't know," I reply, before running over to my father and giving him a hug. "I've been trying to find you for days. I didn't think I'd ever catch up to you!"
"We've just been walking," my father says. "Walking and walking and walking. We have to go through this gate, Thomas. On the other side -"
"You'll die if you go through," I tell him, taking a step back. "It'll take you even further away from home."
"We won't die," he replies. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
"There's no time to waste," says one of the small round creatures, hurrying over to us. "The longer you stay in the Library, the worse your injuries are going to get. If you don't go through soon, you might be stuck here. You have to pass on to the next world."
"Why are you doing this?" I shout at him. "You know what'll happen to them if they go through!"
"They'll get to where they need to go," he replies. "It's what always happens to humans when they're badly hurt. There's nothing to be scared of. Would you rather they just die right here in the desert?"
"No-one's going to die," my mother says, putting a hand on my shoulder. "We're just going to get out of this crazy place, that's all. Do you have any idea what we've seen since we've been here, Thomas? There were these men with blue skin and gills in their necks, and some kind of owl thing called a Psygnosis, and... I'm still not even sure if all of it was real, but we wandered for days through these library aisles. It felt like they were going to go on forever."
"We have to go back the way we came," I tell her. "That's the only way to get home."
"I'm not sure that's entirely true," says Carstairs as he joins us.
"Who's this?" my father asks.
"This is Carstairs," I tell him. "He helped me find you. He's a..." I pause as I try to work out how I can possibly describe Carstairs. "Well, he's human, like us. Not quite like us, not now, but still... He's got this plane, and..." Taking a deep breath, I realize that there's no way I can adequately explain everything that has happened over the past few days.
"Alistair Carstairs," Carstairs says, shaking my father's hand first and then my mother's. "You've raised a fine son here. I helped him, alright, but we wouldn't have made it all the way without his strength of character."
"So you're from our world?" my mother asks.
"Absolutely," he replies, "although... Well, it's been a ruddy long time since I arrived here. I almost feel as if I belong in the Library now."
"Carstairs crashed in a plane during the Second World War," I tell my parents, "and he sort of lost his memory a bit, but his crashed plane grew a soul and called out to him. H
e didn't want to go near it at first, but eventually he was brave enough and it turned out that the plane had become known as the Angel, and it was trying to use magic to get him closer."
"Huh," my father says with a frown.
"Have you hit your head?" my mother asks.
"It's all true, I'm afraid," Carstairs says with an embarrassed smile. "Well, there are a few extra nuances and shades of gray that young Thomas hasn't quite filled in, but the basic gist of the whole thing is correct." He pauses. "I think I might stick around the Library, though, even after you've gone. I'd quite like to take the old girl for another spin and maybe, finally, head off a little further afield. This is a vast world, and I've only scratched the surface."
"Can you help us go back first?" I ask. "We need to get back to the spot where I arrived."
"No," he replies, "you don't need to do that at all. You need to step through the horizon point gate."
Turning, I look over at the stone structure, which consists of two large, vertical rocks topped by a third that runs across the top like a kind of bar. It's difficult to see through the gate, since the air seems to be shimmering, but some kind of liquid is dripping from the sides of the rock.
"It's okay," Carstairs adds. "This is the route you need to take, Thomas."
"I don't want us to die," I reply, suddenly filled with fear at the thought that after this long journey, we might still not be able to get home.
"It's not about life or death," Carstairs says calmly. "It's about moving forward. What will be, will be, but as sure as I'm standing here, I'm afraid you and your parents have to go through the gate now. The Ceriphs and the Angel were right to bring them here. One can't fight one's destiny, you know."
