The Cornerstone (10 page)

‘Merelie, that’s not wise,’ the Arma replied. ‘We should wait for the custodian.’

‘Give it to me Borne… now!’

Merelie may not have technically been a princess, but she could sure sound like one when she wanted to.

Borne heaved a sigh, fished the book out from one of his large trouser pockets and handed it over. ‘I don’t know what you expect it to do, Merelie. It probably needs charging.’

 ‘Not for what I’m going to do. The door I’ll be opening isn’t to another world,’ she said, flipping The Cornerstone open.

Despite himself, Max leaned over to see what was going on.

Merelie stared at the blank pages of the book, whispering under her breath.

Words began to appear on the paper at great speed, the page flipping over once it was full. Max couldn’t make out what was being written, but whatever it was, it filled the whole Cornerstone from cover to cover.

The book was glowing in Merelie’s hands as she continued to speak under her breath, eyes closed in concentration.

When the last page was reached, she gasped and slammed the book shut.

‘Merelie! What have you done?’ Borne demanded, trying to take The Cornerstone back.

‘No! He needs to see!’ she cried, opening the book again and thrusting it at Max. ‘Read!’ she commanded.

Max made a face, but then looked down, doing as he was told:

The first time I had the dream I was six and could barely understand what I’d seen.

This was different. It wasn’t describing what had just happened.

In the years that have passed however, I’ve become more and more aware I was seeing the end of everything, and I knew I had to do something to stop it.

This was Merelie speaking.

Good grief, am I about to see her dreams?

Sure enough, silver light enveloped Max and he entered Merelie’s subconscious.

- 7 -

Max materialised out of the light into the girl’s chambers, which now looked quite different from the rooms he’d visited earlier.

Stuffed animals gave him glassy looks from every available flat surface and a huge doll’s house sat in the centre of the room. It was actually more of a tower, reaching a good six feet from the bedroom floor. Max wondered if this was a representation of the Carvallen Chapter House. If it was, the real building must dominate the skyline. It looked imposing, even in miniature form.

The rest of the floor was covered in brightly coloured cushions and a variety of dolls, discarded as their owner got bored with them.

This was the domain of a child, and Max wasn’t surprised to find that when he tip-toed over to the bed, he could see a little blonde girl of about six sleeping peacefully, her arms wrapped around a stuffed horse.

The mini version of Merelie started to twitch, entering what appeared to be a vivid dream.

It evidently wasn’t a good one.

She started to whimper, her eyes trembling back and forth beneath the lids. Max lent forward and shook her shoulder, trying to bring her out of the nightmare.

Her eyes snapped open and she screamed at the top of her lungs.

The bedroom dissolved, like smoke blown away in a gust of strong wind, leaving only Max, Merelie and the large bed she lay in.

What replaced the room was very strange indeed.

Max stood on a soft white surface of woven material. It looked like wood, but felt quite springy underfoot.

The sky above was the same writhing purple mass as the void The Cornerstone had sent him through the first time he’d used it. Flecks of bright silver rolled and spun in the dark mass, creating a night sky alive with light, under which rested this odd, silent landscape.

It was all very eerie.

‘Hello Max,’ said a tiny, piping voice from behind him.

He looked at the bed where the mini version of Merelie was now awake.

‘Merelie?’ he asked.

‘Yes, it’s me. This is how I looked when the nightmares first started.’

‘But… you’re talking to me as you are now and not as you were then, even though you look like you did then and not like you do now?’ Max was quite pleased with the way he’d negotiated his way through that sentence.

‘Yes, that’s right… I think.’

‘Where are we exactly?’ he asked, trying to get back on firmer conversational ground.

‘This is how the nightmare always starts.’ She looked up at the moving night sky. ‘Seems quite peaceful doesn’t it? It doesn’t stay this way, though.’

‘Brilliant,’  said Max. ‘My nightmares usually start with me butt naked in front of my old geography class. If I’m really unlucky there’s a giant pair of scissors outside waiting to attack me.’

Merelie gave him a perplexed look.

‘Er… so why does your nightmare start like this?’ he said, changing the subject.

 ‘Books mean so much to my people Max. They shape the way we look at the universe. There’s nothing more sacred to us than the blank pages of a new book, waiting to be filled with the words from someone’s heart.’

It clicked in Max’s head what the odd, weaved, white surface was.

I’m standing on a gigantic book, floating in space.

…I will never need to take drugs in my entire life.

 ‘Is this The Cornerstone?’ he said, prodding the vast white sheet of paper with a tentative foot.

‘I don’t think so. It doesn’t feel like The Cornerstone. That’s created to open doorways to other worlds… or in this case to my dreams. This book was created in my mind. It’s a book of prophecy. You’ll see what I mean. ‘

‘It’s all about the books, eh?’

‘They’re my world.’ she said. ‘From an early age, I was taught to respect and learn from the words written by those who came before me. I was told to read as much as I could - and to always keep an open mind. My people form our beliefs and morality that way. Everyone comes to their own conclusions, based upon what they’ve read.’

‘That makes sense, I suppose,’ Max said, gazing up into the sky. ‘Let people make up their own minds.’ It certainly sounded better than the way they did things back home, he had to admit.

Feeling a sudden attack of agoraphobia, he sat on the bed and focused his attention on the little girl.

 ‘Most people are only affected by the power of words inside,’ Merelie continued, putting her hand to her heart. ‘Like when they read a sad story and cry… or read something stupid that makes them angry.’

‘Yep… with you so far,’ and he really was - thoughts of Buck the sled dog ran through his mind.

‘But some can use this power to affect the outside world… use it to do amazing things.’ Merelie’s face lit up as she spoke.

‘Like punch holes in space, right?’ Max said.

‘Yes, just like that!’

‘You’re one of these special people, I suppose?’

‘I am. They saw I had the talent when I was about the age I look to you now. I’m a Carvallen, so it’s not that surprising. I’ve been in training since then.’ A note of pride entered her voice. ‘I’m pretty much the youngest Wordsmith in history.’

Wordsmith.

There was that word again.

Like a blacksmith… only with words on a page, rather than metal in a fire.

It had a ring to it.

‘So you think I’m like you then? You think I can be a Wordsmith?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘More powerful than you? Just because I come from a place where there are loads of books?’ This was the part Max couldn’t get his head around.

Little Merelie’s eyes lit up.

‘Oh yes. There are millions where you come from. It’s incredible!’

‘Well, I still think you’re a bit mental,’ he said, automatically feeling bad about having a go at what was ostensibly a six year old girl.

Merelie looked hurt and they both lapsed into a brief silence.

‘When’s this dream start then?’ Max asked.

At a speed so horrific it could turn milk sour, the book below the bed fell away, leaving it floating in space. Max clung to the duvet, making a strangled noise at the back of his throat.

The giant book ceased its rapid descent, spun itself upwards through forty five degrees and shot forward until it filled their field of vision.

‘Why the hell did that happen?!’ Max screamed, trying not to look down into the enormous purple gulf below.

‘I have no idea, Max… nightmare, remember?’ said Merelie, looking at the book, her voice trembling with dread. ‘It’s starting.’

There was nothing more Max Bloom would like to do right now than to climb under the duvet, fall asleep and wake from this nightmare in his own bed - in his own house, in his own reality.

This wasn’t a bad soap opera from the 1980s though, so he followed Merelie’s gaze up to the huge floating book.

Something began to write on it.

- 8 -

Across the sixty foot high page, thick black writing started to appear.

Max held his breath as a message scratched itself across the page, scrawled in ugly, ragged letters by a great unseen hand:

We see you…

We hear you…

We watch as you cross the spaces between.

We dwell in the dark - and we are
hungry
.

We will eat the words from your mind and walk in your skins.

We will walk through all worlds - and we will feed…

Max heard crying beside him.

‘Merelie?’ he said, but the little girl didn’t reply.

‘Merelie?’ he repeated, still with no response. She was transfixed.

One more sentence etched its way across the bottom of the gigantic page:

This is how your story will end…

With a gut-wrenching roar, a huge slash ripped across the page, quickly followed by another and another, as if huge, invisible claws were attacking the book.

It was shredded in front of their eyes in an assault fuelled by some apocalyptic rage they had no way of stopping, or surviving if it turned on them.

Merelie screamed as the massive book hanging in front of them was eviscerated – huge, ragged pieces of paper beginning to rain down around them.

Then the bed dropped like a stone.

As they plummeted, Max glanced over the edge in terror to see the ground flying up to meet them at an impossible speed.

There was huge lurch and a nauseating sensation in the pit of his stomach as the bed came to a juddering halt. It clattered down onto flagstones in a vast courtyard lying in front of a gigantic stone tower.

Max relaxed the death grip he had on the duvet and tried to sit up straight for a better look. All this whooshing about at stupid speeds had done nothing for his inner ear balance though, so he promptly fell off bed.

Letting out a cry as his backside made contact with the flagstones, Max made a grab for the duvet. Muttering in discomfort, he pulled himself back up and had another go at looking around.

This must be the main courtyard of the Carvallen Chapter House.

Max hadn't suddenly developed deductive skills Sherlock Holmes would be jealous of - there was in fact a massive plaque on the wall in front of him bearing the Carvallen coat of arms, underneath which was written:  Main Courtyard.

Below this was an enormous set of doors that looked strong enough to stop a nuclear bomb.

Mini-Merelie climbed off the bed, walked over and pushed one open with no effort.

As it swung open in silence, Max could see what lay beyond.

He’d seen quite a few horror movies in his life, ranging from gross-out numbers like Day of the Dead and Saw, to the seemingly endless sequels to Friday the 13th and Halloween. None of these movies had bothered him a bit.

You’d have thought all that would prepare him for the sight that met his eyes just beyond the open doorway.

It didn’t.

…not by a long shot.

There were monsters in that room. Monsters with human faces.

Several hundred were packed into the cavernous hall, silent except for the rustling of clothes as they swayed and rubbed against one another like grass in a soft breeze.

None had blood running down their faces, limbs missing or chunks of flesh torn out, but they still looked more terrifying than anything lurking in the horror section at Amazon.

Their eyes sockets boiled with a hideous purple and black smoke, their collective gaze locked on little Merelie.

Each of them was holding a book, and one by one they started to tear the pages out, stuffing the paper into their mouths with ravenous pleasure.

Max recognised one pallid grey face in the crowd. Borne was eating slowly and leering at the girl.

A woman - who looked so much like Merelie it could only be her mother - stood in the centre of the silent horde, methodically chewing paper ripped from the mangled Cornerstone, which she held shut in one grey, withered hand.

She moved to one side and the crowd parted.

A younger version of Jacob Carvallen was thrown forward out of the throng to fall at his wife’s feet.

‘Daddy!’ little Merelie cried.

‘Merelie?’ he said, eyes widening as he realised how close his daughter was to danger. ‘Run Merelie! Run before they get into your head!’

With a hiss, Merelie’s possessed mother opened The Cornerstone. Thick, black and purple ribbons of smoke streamed from it, directly into Jacob’s eyes.

His body jerked and twitched for a few moments and he screamed in agony, before becoming silent and still.

Then, as if a lightning bolt had passed through him, Jacob jumped to his feet and stared at his stricken daughter. ‘Come here, child.’ His voice was guttural and rasping. ‘Let me feed on your thoughts… on your dreams.’

The Jacob-thing walked forward, grabbing at Merelie with clawed hands.

So far, Max had been something of a by-stander in all of this. Metaphorically sitting in the cheap seats and munching popcorn while the action unfolded in front of him. However, when an opportunity does present itself to be pro-active, Max is never the type to pass it up, so he now moved quickly to stand between Merelie and her possessed father.