by Amy Cross
"But I just want to go home," I continue, trying to fight back the tears that are welling in my eyes.
"Home is where you make it," Carstairs says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Look at me. I'm making my home here, in a giant open-air library that covers an entire world." He pauses. "You'll have your parents with you, so wherever you end up, it'll be home."
"Come on," my mother says, taking my hand. "The Ceriphs say that once we get through the gate, all the pain's going to stop. We were hurt pretty badly in the car crash, Thomas. I can't pretend to understand what's really happening here, but we've had a lot of time to think during our journey, and this seems like the right thing to do. Whatever's on the other side of this gate, it has to be better than standing here in a desert, slowly dying from our injuries."
"We can't force you to come with us," my father adds. "You're old enough to make your own decisions now, but..." He pauses, before lifting his shirt to reveal a gaping, bloody wound in the side of his torso; blood drips from the damaged, exposed muscle, and it's clear that he's too badly hurt to last much longer. "We should be dead already," he continues calmly. "Coming here, to this place, has given us a chance to keep going, but you -"
"I'm coming with you," I say firmly.
"What about Alice?" my mother asks.
"I don't think she's here," I reply. "I guess she found her way back, or maybe she never really ended up here in the first place, or..."I turn and look back across the Library, and for a moment I stare at the city of Papyr in the distance. "The Library's a dangerous place," I continue after a few seconds. "I suppose it's a miracle that we made it across. Maybe she -"
"I'm sure she's fine," my father says. "She's a smart girl. Resourceful, too. Wherever she is, I'm sure she'll be okay. And who knows? Once we get through this gate, maybe there'll be a way to go back and check on her, just to be certain."
"But we can't just abandon her," I continue, surprised by my parents' calmness. "She might need our help!"
"We're not abandoning her," my mother replies. "We'll do everything in our power to check on her, but for now we just need to focus on doing the right thing for ourselves." She and my father lead me toward the gate, and finally we stand on the threshold, ready to go through.
"Good luck!" Carstairs calls out. "If you get the chance, spare a thought now and again for an old wizard flying about in a giant library, eh?"
I turn to him. "Thank you for everything," I say, before pausing. Ice-cold water is dripping from the gate, and although I can't quite work out what's wrong, I feel uneasy. "Are you sure this is right? I don't want to die, Carstairs..."
"Don't worry," he says with a wink. "I promise you'll be okay."
With that, I turn back to stare directly into the gate. Just as I'm trying to make a final decision about whether this is the right thing to do, my parents put their hands on my shoulders and gently push me through. I feel strands of energy wrapping around my body, pulling me deeper, but when I look up at my mother, I realize that her whole body seems to be fracturing and breaking down into pure light; I turn to my father and watch as the same thing happens to him. Trying to turn and head back to the Library, I realize that I've made the wrong decision. The light builds and builds all around me and, finally, I feel my entire body start to break apart.
Alice Never
"Stop!" I shout, racing past the last of the shelves and trying to reach the gate in time. "Stop him!"
Up ahead, a man dressed in a World War Two uniform turns and stares at me as if I'm the craziest thing he's ever seen. Rushing past him, I reach the gate, but it's too late; Thomas and my parents have disappeared into the shimmering energy, and now there's no sign of them.
"Hello," the World War Two man says with a strong British accent. "Anything we can help you with?"
I turn and stare at him. All around, small round creatures, like the ones I saw back at the crash site, are scurrying toward me, while there's an old fighter plane parked a few hundred meters further on. Table and Nodby are still catching up, but suddenly I feel completely alone.
"What happened?" I ask, my voice trembling as I walk over to the man. "Where did they go?"
"First of all," he replies, "my name is Carstairs. Alistair Carstairs, to be precise. I accompanied your brother across the Library. He's a fine young man, very -"
"Where did they go?" I shout, starting to panic at the thought that I might have been too late. "What did you do to them?"
"I didn't do anything," he replies with a frown. "They went through the gate, just as they were supposed to. I'm afraid your parents were quite horribly hurt before they came to the Library, and the Ceriphs... well, and the Angel too, I suppose... knew that they had to be brought here so they could pass on to the next world. Whatever that might be."
"But they're..." I turn and look over at the gate for a moment. "They can't be dead," I say eventually, with tears in my eyes. "After all this, they can't have just..."
"What's wrong?" Table asks breathlessly as she reaches us. "Was that them, going through that thing?"
"I'm afraid there seems to have been a misunderstanding," Carstairs continues. "Your parents, it would appear, had no choice but to go through the gate. They couldn't survive here forever, not with their injuries. I'm afraid the Angel... well, one mustn't dwell on matters of blame. Suffice it to say, there's absolutely no doubt that your parents were right to pass on to the next world. Your brother..." He pauses, and there's a faint look of sadness in his eyes. "Well, Thomas is a very brave young man, and he went with them. Are you, by any chance, Alice?"
I turn to him.
"They weren't sure what had happened to you," he continues. "They said they'd try to find you, though. Once they're on the other side and they've got settled, but..." He pauses again, and it's as if he's experienced a sudden moment of realization. "If you go through that gate, you'll enter a world that exists after your life is over. I don't honestly know what it's like once you're in that place, and the truth is, I'd rather wait a very long time before I find out. Nevertheless, your family went through, and they went willingly. If you want to be reunited with them, you must go through the gate."
"Why did you let them do it?" I ask, shocked at the thought that after such a long journey, I seem to have arrived a few minutes too late.
"Your parents were hurt," he replies. "Your brother realized that they had no choice but to go through, and he wanted to be with them. Perhaps if he'd known that you were on your way, he would have waited, but you must forgive him, Alice. He wanted to be with your parents very much, and he thought that the right thing to do was to go with them."
Turning to look at the door, I realize that if I ever want to see my parents and my brother again, I have to go through and face whatever's in the next world.
"Go on," Table says, having sidled over to me. "It's an adventure, right?"
"I don't want to go alone," I reply, keeping my eyes fixed on the gate.
"You won't be alone," she continues. "Your family's going to be there."
"But I don't want to die," I say firmly, fighting back the tears.
"Typical human," she says with a smile. "What you think of as death is really just the passage of a person from one reality to another. You just have to be brave enough. Either that, or wait until your body dies and your soul has no choice but to go. Still..." She pauses. "Do you really want to wait around in the Library for decades, waiting for the inevitable?"
"Would you go through?" I ask, turning to her. "If you were in my position, I mean."
"Sure," she replies. "I'm not going to, though. I'm going to stick around here and maybe head back to my own family. This pesky soul keeps prodding me on the inside and telling me I oughta go check up on the people I left behind. I'm guessing your soul's got more or less the same ideas, huh?"
Taking a deep breath, I start walking toward the gate. It's hard to believe that my life could end so soon; I'm still young, just eighteen years old, and I thought I had a long time left to go;
I had plans and dreams, and ideas, and ambitions... And now I'm supposed to go through this gate and move on to some other world. No matter what's through there, it's not going to match the hopes I've had in the past. I stare up at the top of the gate and spot drops of water falling down, evidently disturbed by a fine spray from beyond the gate itself.
After a moment, I look down at the arid desert floor.
"Water," I whisper.
"Huh?" Table calls out.
"Water," I say again, turning to her. "Water's life, right? That's what Omman the Joth told me on the boat. Water's life, and where there's no water, there's only death."
"So?" Table asks.
"There's water coming from the other side of the gate," I point out.
"And?"
"So it can't be death!"
"I think she might be onto something," Carstairs says after a moment. "It does seem rather damp over there, doesn't it?"
"I'm pretty sure the other side of that gate is death," Table replies. "I mean, that's pretty much how the whole thing works, right?"
"Maybe it's death to you," I continue, "and to other people in the Library, but I think it might be life for me." I pause for a moment, finally at peace with my decision. "What are you going to do now?" I ask Table. "Where are you going to go when I'm gone?"
"Like I said," she replies, "I think I should go check up on my family."
"I could give you a lift," Carstairs says, turning to her.
"In that thing?" she asks, looking over at the plane.
"She's airworthy," he says, sounding a little offended. "I can assure you that the Angel is fully entitled to take to the skies."
"Fine," Table mutters, clearly a little concerned about the prospect. "I'll go up in your giant metal bird, but you'd better know what you're doing."
"We'll have you home in no time," Carstairs tells her. "Perhaps the old girl and I could start a new career in the cargo trade. We can even take the little guy, whatever he is."
"We'll get you a new cage," Table tells Nodby.
"I was never in a cage," he replies grumpily. "However, in order to single-handedly rescue the pair of you and escape from the desert, I had to..." He pauses, and finally he sighs. "Fine. I was in a cage. But I don't think I need another one. Not just yet, anyway. I'd like to try living free for a while."
Pausing, Table smiles at me. "Hey, Alice," she says after a moment. "You kept asking about my real name. I guess I should tell you now, since we'll probably never see each other again."
I take a step closer to the gate, and now I can feel its spray on my face. Turning to Table, I see the smile on her face.
"What is it?" I ask. "What's your real name?"
"It's kinda lousy," she replies, "but it's..." She takes a deep breath. "Sesquiciada."
"Sesquisi-what?" I reply.
"I know," she says with a smile. "It's pretty hard to pronounce, but now I've got my soul back, I suppose I should start using my proper name. Sesquiciada. Great, huh? It sounds like I should be a princess or something." She pauses. "I'd be a lousy princess."
Smiling, I turn and face the gate, before finally stepping through. The sensation is like walking through a waterfall, and after a few more steps I feel myself falling forward. I don't try to fight the sensation; instead, I allow myself to plummet faster and faster through the water, not even caring where I land or what happens next. Finally, with everything becoming bright white around me, I close my eyes and wait for the inevitable hard landing. It takes a moment, but suddenly I realize that there's something pressing against my back; seconds later, my eyelids start to flutter open; as I look straight ahead, I realize that I'm in a small, enclosed space, and I'm upside down, and there are people around me.
"Is everyone okay?" my father asks, turning to us from the front seat. "Alice! Thomas! Speak to me!"
"I'm fine," I splutter, trying to work out what's happening.
"I'm okay," Thomas says with a frown.
"I think my arm's hurt," my mother says, trying to unfasten her safety-belt.
"We need to get out of the car," my father says. "I don't know what the hell happened, but we're lucky to be alive. Everyone just try to open your door and get to safety as fast as possible."
As he and my mother start to climb out, I turn to Thomas, and I can immediately see from the look in his eyes that he's thinking the same thing that I'm thinking.
"Do you remember?" I whisper.
"The Library?"
I nod.
"Carstairs..."
"Table..." I pause. "Or whatever her name was."
"Get out!" my father says, pulling the door open from the outside. "Hurry! We need to call help!"
"Don't you remember the Library?" I ask as he takes my hand and helps me climb delicately out of the car. Landing knee-deep in a snow-drift, I look over at Thomas and see with absolute certainty that he knows what I'm talking about. "I don't know how we ended up back here, but I guess that from their point of view, this world is death!"
"What are you talking about?" my mother asks as she helps Thomas out of the car. "What library?"
"The Library!" I say firmly, even though I'm starting to realize that they don't seem to remember it at all. Looking over at Thomas, I can see that he shares my confusion. Whatever happened to us, it was real, even if our parents remember none of it.
"Let's focus on getting back up to the roadside," my father says, evidently unimpressed by what he considers to be a load of nonsense. "We need to get to a town. I'm worried you might have bumped your head. This stuff you're saying... None of it makes sense."
Instead of trying to argue with him, I let him lead me over to the snowbank, and the four of us slowly start to climb back up toward the road.
"You remember it, don't you?" Thomas whispers as he comes closer to me.
"The gate?" I whisper back at him. "The plane? The wizard?"
"All those aisles," he replies. "The city. Papyr. The Setters. The Grandapams."
"Will you two please get moving?" my father calls back to us, having got a little further up toward the side of the road. "This isn't a game!"
I want to ask Thomas more about his experiences in the Library, and to find out why our parents don't seem to remember any of it, but I decide instead to stay quiet and wait for a more convenient moment. Glancing over at Thomas, I'm pretty sure he's thinking the same thing. Instead of talking, therefore, we continue to climb through the snow, until finally we're back up by the side of the road and my father starts waving at an oncoming truck.
"You know what'd make this easier?" Thomas whispers.
"What?" I reply.
"A plane," he says with a smile. "A big old World War Two plane."
Epilogue
The old library has seen better days. There was a time when it was the hub of the local town: children would be brought by their parents to borrow their first book; researchers would pore over dusty tomes in search of information for their projects; pensioners would drop by and then end up spending the whole day going through newspapers while discussing the latest events in hushed tones. Today, however, the place is almost entirely empty, save for a single librarian who dusts the shelves and helps customers who are having trouble with the automated checking-out machine.
As soon as Alice and Thomas enter the building, they head straight for the historical records department. They know exactly what they want, and they're fairly sure they know where their prize will be found. Having scoured several other libraries already, they've finally tracked down the old newspaper archive that covers the local area, and a search that has lasted more than six months is coming to an end.
That's the plan, anyway.
"I'll start with these," Alice says as she takes a dusty old box off one of the shelves. "Can you take a look at the old Argus?"
"I still find it weird being in a library that's got a roof," Thomas replies, grabbing a box of old Argus newspaper editions and carrying it over to the table. "It's almost like this isn't really
a library at all."
"It almost sounds as if you miss the place," Alice says with a faint smile.
"Don't you?"
"I wouldn't mind going back for a visit," she replies after a moment, as she starts searching through the old newspapers. "I mean, as long as it was only for a week or two. I'd like to see how everyone's doing. Table, or whatever her real name was, said she was going back to find her family. I hope she made it, but I want to know what she did next. She had so much potential, and she seemed so enthusiastic once she'd got her soul back."
"I don't ever want to run into any of those Grandapams again," Thomas mutters, looking through a newspaper. "You're lucky you didn't meet them. They're totally officious. They make you sign a form for everything."
"The Valley of Dead Books was -" Alice starts to say, before spotting a familiar face on one of the papers in the newspaper she's searching. "Over here!" she hisses. "I've found him!"
Hurrying over, Thomas reaches out and grabs the newspaper as he realizes that she's right. On the obituaries page from a June 1943 edition of the local newspaper, there's a brief mention of a man named Alistair Douglas Carstairs, and the article is accompanied by a photo of a well-groomed, smiling and strikingly handsome man whose features are immediately recognizable to both Thomas and his sister.
"That's him," Thomas says, his heart racing. "It's really him! He's missing the mustache, but it's definitely him!"
"Alistair Douglas Carstairs was reported missing, presumed dead after his plane failed to return from a bombing raid in late June 1943," Alice says, reading aloud from the obituary. "A highly-decorated pilot and leader, he had experience in some of the key raids of the war to date, and his loss will be keenly felt by all those who worked with him. Although no wreckage was found..." She pauses for a moment as the reality of the situation sinks in. "Although no wreckage was found," she continues eventually, "investigators have given up searching for Carstairs or his plane. According to the final radio broadcast received by a nearby relay station, he was trying to guide his plane down for a controlled crash-landing somewhere near the Devon coast. It's assumed that he ditched into the channel and that the plane sank without a trace."
