by Amy Cross
Chapter Twelve
The closer we get to this Budocktar place, the more shocked I am by how vast it appears. Set in a natural curve in the coastline, Budocktar looks like some kind of shanty town that's somehow managed to grow around the aisles without overwhelming them. Rickety structures have been arranged on top of some of the shelves, sometimes rising high into the sky, while the shoreline itself is filled with scrappy little pontoons and man-made harbors. At the far end, two large boats are moored, each of them at least one hundred feet long. As we begin to approach one of the pontoons, I can't help noticing several much smaller boats approaching, each with only one or two occupants on-board.
“You want to trade, boss?” a man asks as his boat bumps against ours. He's wearing a hood that covers his features. “Whatever you've got, I'll give you a nice price.”
“We're not here to trade,” Cromer says firmly, reaching out and pushing his boat away. “Tell your friends to leave us alone.”
“You're gonna have a bad time here if you don't have anything to trade, boss,” he replies, already starting to float away. “No-one gets anything for nothing, if you catch my drift. That horse looks nice and strong. You could get a good deal for that thing.”
“We know our own business,” Cromer tells him. “Good day to you.”
“Want to trade?” another man asks, and I turn to see a second boat bumping against our other side. “This looks like a nice vessel, I could give you something for it.” He reaches out and runs a hand along the wood. “This is sturdy stuff. If you like, I can -”
Before he gets a chance to finish, Eanu raises his head from the water and roars, and the man immediately pulls away.
“You don't have to tell me twice!” he stammers. “There's no harm in being polite!”
“Most of these wretches are scavengers,” Cromer explains as we get closer to the pontoon. “Look, you can see they're already setting out to check what happened to the citadel. That's good for us, it'll keep them busy for a while, the streets shouldn't be quite so full.”
“What's that smell?” I ask.
“Spices. Oils. Anything these pathetic creatures think they can sell. We've had another stroke of luck, though. Two of Cab Obslath's boats are docked, which means at least one of them should be setting sail soon. Hopefully it's going roughly in our direction.”
“I don't like this,” Christian mutters darkly. “My parents always told me to stay away from pirates. These people are the scum of the Great Library.”
“They can't be that bad, can they?” I ask, although I quickly notice that nobody answers me. “Can they?”
As soon as we're alongside the pontoon, Cromer clambers off and leads the horse onto the wooden decking. I look over at Christian and see the reluctance in his eyes, but finally he sighs and follows. I climb off too, even as I have to admit that the smell of this place is overwhelming. Once we're all standing on the pontoon, we turn to watch as Eanu pulls away and heads back out. His big, turtle-like head briefly breaks the surface, and I see ancient eyes staring back at me.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say, even though I have no idea whether he can understand us. “I'm really sorry about your owner. Or whatever she was. Your friend, I guess.”
Eanu stares at me for a moment, before letting out a low, growling moan. As he does so, I see that he has Dooma's body tucked under one of his flippers, beneath the surface. He's carrying her away as if she's some kind of doll.
“Is that sweet or creepy?” I ask, as Christian stands next to me and we watch Eanu leave. “Never mind the practicality of it... I don't know what to think.”
“When you lose the people you love the most,” he replies, “it's not just about what you think. It's like this other voice is inside, silent but screaming, and you just do whatever helps ease the pain at that particular moment.” He turns to me. “It's about surviving until thinking works again.”
I watch as Eanu disappears into the distance. Lots of other small boats are heading away too, and I guess Cromer's right that they're going to investigate the fall of the citadel.
“Come on, you two!” Cromer calls out, having already started leading the horse along the pontoon, toward the shore. “We've got to buy our way onto one of those boats!”
“And how exactly are we going to do that?” I ask, as Christian and I hurry to catch up to him.
“Well, that's where this fellow should come in handy,” he replies, patting the horse on its flank. “The question is, will it be enough to gain passage for all three of us?”
***
A couple of hours later, as Cromer continues to negotiate with the man on the shoreline in front of the two large boats, I find myself staring in stunned awe at the sheer ingenuity of the people who've managed to make their lives here. The structures built on top of the shelves look as if they're going to fall down at any moment, yet even the occasional strong gust of wind doesn't cause them to so much as sway. Ladders have been placed not only against the shelves, but over the tops to create walkways, allowing the inhabitants of Budocktar to swiftly get about. This place is half shanty town, half library, and somehow it actually works.
“It's stunning,” I mutter finally.
“It's degenerate,” Christian replies, and I turn to see that he still seems absolutely disgusted.
“I guess they've found a way to live,” I point out, as half a dozen goats are herded past us. “I'm not saying I agree with piracy, but what else were these people supposed to do? Starve and fade away?”
“For starters,” he says, “it's wrong to go up on top of the shelves, let alone to actually live up there. Everyone in the Great Library knows that if you spend time above the shelves without a good reason, you're risking calamity.”
“Is that a kind of superstition?” I ask.
“What they're doing here is disrespectful to the gods.”
“And what kind of gods do you have in the Great Library?”
“Apparently ones who put up with this stuff and don't punish the transgressors.” He pauses, before sighing. “I'm sorry, Alex, but my parents taught me to hold onto our values, and I can't just forget about all of that. Pretty much anywhere else in this whole world, people obey the rules. What is it about the inhabitants of Budocktar that makes them think they can just do whatever they want?”
“I'm sorry about your parents,” I reply. “I've been waiting for the right moment to say something, but... I can't imagine how you're feeling right now.”
He watches the aisles for a moment, before turning to me.
“I feel like I want to keep what they believed in alive,” he explains. “I don't want to forget them, and that includes the things they stood for. If it was up to me, this whole pirate town would be razed to the ground. My parents worked hard, all their lives, and it still wasn't enough. Meanwhile these people do whatever they want and they get away with it. They live in filth and squalor and they don't even care. I'm sorry, Alex, this is a part of the Great Library that you should never have had to see.”
“And what are you two doing here?” a voice asks, as a scruffy-looking girl wanders toward us. She's grinning, and she looks us both up and down for a moment, as if she's trying to quickly work out whether we've got anything that's worth stealing. “It's not often that we get fresh faces in Budocktar.”
“Keep away from us!” Christian says angrily. “We don't want your stench on our clothes!”
“Well, that's not very nice,” she purrs, before biting her bottom lip as she focuses her gaze on me. “You're definitely not from around these parts,” she continues. “I don't know how, I can just tell. Are you even from the Great Library at all?”
“Actually, I'm from -”
“Don't tell her anything!” Christian snaps, grabbing my arm and pulling me back. “She'll use it against you!”
“Such paranoia,” the girl chuckles. “You've been loitering here for quite some time. It looks like your friend is going to be talking to Mr. Troppelcade for a while longe
r, so why don't you come over to my place and sit yourselves down? I'd be happy to offer some wine, and maybe something to eat.”
“We don't want anything you have!” Christian tells her. “Leave us alone!”
At that moment, my stomach gurgles loudly.
“Sorry,” I mutter sheepishly.
“I have a little place right up there,” the girl says, turning and pointing to a shack on top of a nearby aisle. “It might not look like much, but I built it with my own bare hands, and it gives me a perfect view of the sun rising every morning.” She turns to me. “You'll have to forgive me for rabbiting on and on, but I've been trying to buy time while I work out exactly what you are. And I think I've done that now.” She comes closer and stares at me for a moment. “You're human,” she adds. “Go on, tell me I'm wrong.”
“This is none of your business!” Christian hisses, shoving her away.
“Wait,” I say to him, “you don't have to do that!”
“She's after something!”
“Maybe she's just being nice,” I suggest, although I immediately realize that I'm probably being woefully naive. Again. “I'm sorry,” I say to the girl, “we're really just passing through, and we're going to be on our way at any moment. Thanks for the invitation, though.”
“You people make me sick!” Christian spits at her. “How can you live up there on the shelves like that?”
“We have to find space,” she points out.
“But it's wrong!” he replies, clearly exasperated. “Even since before the time of the Forbidders, everyone has known to not go up there unless it's absolutely necessary.”
“You might have noticed,” she says, “that we don't necessarily follow all the rules around here. I'm merely offering a safe place for two weary travelers to rest for a short while. And I know this might sound rather harsh, but darlings... it's pretty clear to me that you don't possess anything that anybody would want to steal. In fact, I'm probably the one who should be worried.” Her smile grows. “Now, why don't you come inside and have a nice cup of tea?”
“I miss tea,” I whisper, taking a step forward.
“I'll brew you up two cups at once,” she purrs, as another goat happens to wander past behind her, “and -”
Before she can finish, a long, thin pink tendril shoots out of her little shack and impales the goat. Crying out, the poor animal is quickly dragged across the muddy ground and up the side of the aisle, before finally disappearing into the shack.
“What the hell was that?” I stammer.
“Oh, that was nothing,” the girl says, and now her eyes seem to be revolving in their sockets as she steps toward me. “Don't you worry your pretty little head, just -”
“No!”
Suddenly Christian shoves her back, sending her crashing to the ground.
“Are you insane?” he asks me, as I realize that I feel a little dazed. “Do you still think that wasn't a trap? Do you still think this place isn't filled with murderous, barbarous monsters?”
“I...”
I look over at the girl as she gets to her feet and brushes herself down.
“You can't blame me for trying,” she says with a grin, before stepping back. “All's fair in Budocktar, after all. Eat or be eaten.”
Before I have a chance to reply, I hear footsteps approaching, and I turn to see that Cromer is on his way to join us. The horse, meanwhile, is already being assessed and examined by several of the pirates.
“I've managed to strike a deal,” Cromer explains. “They were more or less going our way, and I've promised that we'll work while we're on-board. The journey should only take a couple of days, although that'll mean passing through the fringes of the Perpetual Storm.”
“Perpetual Storm?” I reply, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“We have to get to Shadar as quickly as possible,” he reminds me. “The Paperossa leaves tonight, which gives us time to figure out our roles on-board. Captain Obslath himself will be on this journey, which should force the crew to behave themselves a little more than normal.” He pauses. “I'm not sure I even need to ask this question, but... do either of you have experience on the high seas?”
Looking past him, I see the huge boat, with tall masts and tightly-wrapped sails. It looks more or less like a boat from an old film, and a little like the Cutty Sark in Greenwich, although there seem to be a few extra bits and bobs attached in various spots.
“I've seen some films,” I say, hoping to inspire at least a little confidence.
“What's a film?” Cromer asks.
“Never mind. I can wipe a deck down as good as anyone else. I mean, it can't be that different to cleaning a bathroom floor, can it?”
“There's no point hanging around onshore for much longer,” Cromer mutters. “This voyage is going to be tiring, and gruelling, and rough at times, and the smells might well make you want to throw yourselves overboard. Just remember to focus on what's at the end of all this. If we get to Shadar and locate James Bartleby, we might yet have a chance of saving both Rinth and the Great Library.”
“And all we have to do is endure a few days surrounded by pirates,” Christian mutters as we start to follow Cromer to the plank that leads up onto the nearest boat. “I can't think of anything better.”
Dropping back a little, I stop and look at the horse, which is still being examined by the pirates.
“Hey,” I say, reaching out and stroking the side of its face, “sorry we have to leave you behind, but I'm sure they're gonna take good care of you.” I manage a faint smile. “See you around.”
I turn to walk away.
“See you around, Alex,” the horse replies.
Startled, I turn and step back, and in the process I bump against several boxes. I fall back and slam down hard against the cold, wet ground, and several pirates are already roaring with laughter as I somewhat painfully haul myself up.
“Sorry,” the horse adds, “I didn't mean to startle you.”
“See?” I shout, hurrying after Cromer and Christian, almost tripping over several ropes in the process. “I was right! I knew it'd be able to talk! This place is so weird!”
Chapter Thirteen
Sure, Budocktar was weird, but it was nothing compared to the fact that a few hours later I'm standing on the deck of a large boat as its sails unfurl and it heads away from the coastline. The deck tilts slightly beneath my feet, and I wonder for the first time whether or not I might be the kind of person who gets seasick. I mean, I don't like heights, so is it possible that I'm going to spend this whole journey with my head in a bucket?
“Why are you stopping?” a voice mutters, shoving me hard in the back. “You've still got a deck to swab!”
Turning, I see a large, round, gray-skinnned guy glaring at me. I look down at the mop I'm holding, and then I mutter my apologies as I get back to work. We've barely left the port, and already I'm getting told off for not doing enough, so I figure that I really need to start pulling my weight and try to impress these pirates. I dip the mop's head into a bucket of water, and then I start working again, just as the deck moves again and I feel the first ripple of nausea in my belly.
“You okay?”
I look over my shoulder and see that Christian is mopping his way closer.
“I've never really been at sea before,” I tell him, “that's all. Not that I'm complaining. I know we have to get to this Shadar place, so a couple of days on this thing are a small price to pay.” I pause for a moment. “Thank you, by the way,” I add. “For saving my life back there. I think that girl had me under some kind of spell.”
“She was a Duroxi,” he replies. “They're famed for their persuasive powers. You're welcome. And believe me, Duroxi aren't even in the top thousand most dangerous species in this place. I used to beg my brother to tell me scary stories when I was a kid. Our father didn't approve, but Daniel didn't mind frightening the life out of me. I'm sure he exaggerated sometimes, but I think all his tales were based on truth.”
“How long has it been since you last saw your brother?” I ask.
“Five years now,” he tells me. “It's okay, I know the odds of ever seeing him again are low. Darvill's army chews up soldiers and spits them out, that's why he always has to keep on finding new recruits. Daniel was pretty tough, but when I think of him spending five years under Darvill's command... I honestly don't know whether I want him to have survived for that long. It'd probably be better for him if he died early.”
“You can't mean that.”
“Sometimes if you love someone, and they're in pain, you just want them to not suffer anymore,” he replies. “Does that make sense?”
“More than you can possibly imagine,” I say, thinking back to Libby in her bed at home. “My sister is -”
“Hey, you two!” a voice shouts, and I turn to see the gray-skinned creature storming over to us again. “What part of your job description is supposed to involve all this talk?”
Before either of us can say anything, the creature grabs Christian and slams him hard against the deck, and then he holds him down firmly.
“I already told you,” the creature sneers, as thick blobs of saliva drip down from his mouth and land on Christian's face, “I want this whole boat looking perfect by the time we hit the Perpetual Storm! If you can't do that, then I might as well just throw you overboard right now and be done with the whole -”
Suddenly Christian slams his mop's handle into the creature's throat, forcing him to stumble back. Momentarily stunned, the creature steadies himself and then rushes back toward Christian, who swings the mop and hits him hard in the face. This time the creature lets out a roar of pain before lunging forward. Christian tries to hit him again, but he's too slow and the creatures slams his face with a fist. Dropping the mop, Christian falls to his knees, and then the creature throws him against the wall and leans close.
“That's it!” he sneers. “I was joking about throwing you overboard, but now -”
