Distant Star (26 page)

“I like her, Declan,” Aloysius
said. “I should tell you to be careful, but I honestly have no idea what is
happening beyond that door. The catalogues of Bountiful Doubt contain
fictitious, often mean spirited book of the never-were. Perhaps knowing that
will help you. How will you fight this thing?”

Declan’s blue eyes sparkled in
the half-light of the electric globes on the lavish walls. True night had
fallen outside the Library. “You have to outsmart the bastards, Grandfather.”

“And how will—?”

“Riddles,” Tal said. “We were
always taught to strike at the Void with riddles.”

Aloysius blinked. “Why is a raven
like a writing desk?”

Declan stepped across the
corridor and unlocked the heavy doors. “Something like that.” He opened the
entrance a crack and peeked into the catalogue. Then, without another word,
slipped into the darkness and closed the door gently behind him.

It was cold in the immense rooms
of Bountiful Doubt. Large wooden bookshelves lined the walls, fit to burst with
leather bound tomes. The heady scent of grass shavings and old vanilla was
pungent and overpowering. Declan knew Tal was only a handful of gorgeous steps
away, back through the door, but it felt more like miles. He pulled his jacket
close about himself and tread lightly across the polished floor.

He was not alone, of that he
could be certain. The small wound in his side throbbed, dripping down his jeans
and into his boot. It was foolish to have come here straight from what had
happened at the
Reach
, but he was a
Knight—and this was his duty.

The creature was waiting for him
in the heart of the open room.

It stood wreathed in darkness,
alongside the warped portal in the stacks he had seen on the monitors out in
the foyer. Reading desks with comfy velvet-backed chairs held the no man’s land
between Declan and the Voidling. A distance of only about ten feet.

The creature gave no sign that it
knew he was there. That it could see him or anything at all.

Declan swung one of the ornate
wooden chairs around and sat down with his arms crossed over the back. He
stared at the tall, thin monster cloaked in midnight blue and grinned. A band
of cool sweat broke out across his forehead.

A minute slipped by.

Another.

During the third minute, blood
began to drip from Declan’s nose. Then from his eyes.

The fourth minute was
unremarkable.

At five minutes, the creature
flinched and made a sound below hearing. Like a chime in the back of the mind.
It screamed.

Only then did Declan speak.

“You’re a strong one,” he said.
“And you have more form than most of your brethren. Leave now or be destroyed.”

Skeletal hands clenched around
the folds of its robe. The vortex spinning inside the warped stacks of books
shimmered, as if a pebble had been cast on still waters. Beyond lay the Void,
an expanse of infinite nothing that would devour everything if this monster
were left unchecked.

“
Shadowless, you will stand aside
.”

“I think not.”
Shadowless?
He had no idea what that
meant. Declan estimated the spinning vortex was expanding a few inches every
minute. It would be tied to the creature, tethered to reality.

“
What is this place?
”

“The abstract distinct, my
friend. Raw magic refined into science. Chaos into order. The Forgetful
Library, a work of staggering genius. It has grown vast and cruel, like a razor
blade slicing through worlds and into your Void. This is why you were drawn
here.”

The creature made a sound halfway
between a laugh and a growl. “
We choose
here to leave the Void.
”

“No. No, you do not.”

Declan braced himself against the
chair as a wave of force slammed into his mind. A blizzard of rampant, dark
energy—of the space outside of the universe—of the nothing, of the
Void. It tickled and he laughed.

“You’ll have to do better than
that!” He cracked his knuckles. “Say my name and I disappear. What am I?”

The creature recoiled as if
stung. “
Silence. The more you take, the
more you leave behind…
”

“Footsteps. Tall in the morning,
short at noon, gone in the evening yet due back soon—”

“
A shadow,
” the Voidling rasped, and laughed. “
How apt. Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites,
mouthless mutters. What is it?”

“The wind. At dusk the silent
sentinels arrive without being summoned. At dawn they flee without being
stolen. What are they?”

The creature hissed and spluttered.
It writhed on the spot, tethered to both realms of reality and nothing. Its
time ran out. A long, hideous slash split its robes and the pallid flesh
beneath. Declan relaxed and licked the blood from his lips. It didn’t know the
answer. Accords as old as the universe declared him victor of the contest.

“I bind you to my Will,” he said,
as if discussing the weather over a glass of something red. “Through accorded
contest you are bested.”

“
The answer, Shadowless! I will have the answer!
” Its lips cracked
and came apart, digging deep scars, a repugnant grin, up into its cheeks.

“The stars. The distant stars
arrive at dusk and flee at dawn. You know them not in your damned realm, and
you are bound for it. Now, we have observed the niceties—we’ve matched wits,
minds, and wisdom—you will leave this place and return to the Void. I
have business this evening far more important than you.”

“
I will return for you… Shadowless.
”

“It will be some time before your
kind find such a convenient hole in the world again, I think. Now.
Be gone.
”

The Voidling crumpled like a Coke
can hit by a car. It folded back into the vortex between the shelves and
mangled tomes of the Thrice-Kindly works. A great scream, the collective voices
of a million cheated monstrosities from beyond time and space, slammed against
Declan’s fortified mind and glanced off as the path to Hell snapped shut.

The scream rattled his wits.
Declan leaned over and vomited up the last thing he’d eaten—two fingers
worth of scotch and a jam donut. A kingly breakfast, given the day he’d had and
the night to come.

All in all, a job well done.
S’pose I just saved a fair old chunk of
Forget.

He stood up, swayed on the spot
for a moment, and then nodded. Declan strolled back through the stacks at ease,
his face a mask of dried blood. He unlocked the doors of Bountiful Doubt and
exited the catalogue. Tal and Aloysius were waiting just beyond the vestibule.

Tal was as white as snow. “You
fought it and won,” she said, amazed. “How?”

“Charm, good looks and a winning
attitude, my dear. You caught most of the exchange, Grandfather?”

Aloysius shook his head. “There
was too much distance, son. It looked like it had you for a moment there.”

Declan grinned. “Not even close.
Let me tell you the story.”

*~*~*~*

IV

And as he told it to me, I tell
it to you now.

Declan Hale outwitted the
vanguard of a Voidling army on the eve of his Degradation. Tired and alone, he
faced the horror beyond the edge of creation and laughed. King Faraday of the
Knights Infernal, King Morpheus Renegade and his Immortal Queen call him a
fiend—a heathen pretender to the throne. Yet those of us who knew him
know the truth. He never fought for the throne, because his heart was broken.
He
allowed
himself to be exiled.

I have lived with heroes.

This Library on the very edge of
Forget, overseen by an old man, has caught the blood of the genuine king.

The Fae Palace at the heart of
Ascension City hosts false dominion over Forget. My grandson ended the war,
saved countless worlds and lost his love and his shadow in the bargain. He is
owed our allegiance and our throne… and if this is to be my treason, then so be
it:

Long live Declan Hale, Shadowless
Arbiter, the High Lord and True King of the Forgetful Realms.

*~*~*~*

ABOUT
THE AUTHOR

Joe
Ducie (1987-) is a writer from Perth, Western Australia. By day, he charges a
toll to cross a bridge he doesn't own. Yet by night, in a haze of
scotch-fuelled insanity, he works tirelessly on an array of stories both short
and long. Joe possesses a fierce love of a smooth finish. Under no
circumstances should you ask him just what that means.

Joe was born in Barrow-in-Furness, Cumbria in November
1987, and currently resides in Perth, Western Australia. He is primarily an
author of urban fantasy and science fiction aimed at young adults. His current
stories include
Distant Star,
 
Upon
Crystal Shores
,
 
Red vs. Blue
, and
 
The
Forgetful Library
.

Joe attended Edith Cowan University and graduated in
2010 with a Degree of Counterterrorism, Security and Intelligence. He went
back, the idiot, and completed post-graduate studies in Security Science in
2011.

When not talking about himself in the third person,
Joe enjoys devouring books at an absurdly disgusting rate and sampling fine
scotch.

Website:
www.joeducie.net
Twitter: @joeducie
Facebook: /jducie