The Cornerstone (16 page)

This seemed to scare Merelie more than anything. ‘Yes! They’ll come for me like they did everybody else. I only got away because I made it to the Library with Borne and Garrowain - ‘ her eyes went wide with recollection. ‘Poor Borne!’ Merelie cried and lapsed into silence, wiping tears from her pale cheeks.

She’s obviously seen something very traumatic, go easy with her.

‘Merelie? What happened?’ Imelda said, placing a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.

Merelie stared at her for a moment before answering. ‘You’re a Wordsmith, yes?’

‘I am, but it’s been a long time since I’ve word shaped,’ Imelda admitted.

 ‘You might get your chance tonight,’ Merelie said, looking back at The Cornerstone.

‘What’s after you, Merelie? What do you think is coming through the book?’

The look Merelie gave Imelda was one part fear, one part anger - with a side order of grim satisfaction thrown in. ‘I was
right
.’

‘About what?’

‘My dreams were real. They came through the doorway between worlds.’

Imelda’s blood ran cold as Merelie’s blue eyes shone with fear. ‘What came through?’ the librarian said in a hushed tone.

The Cornerstone started to glow.

‘You’re about to find out,’ the girl said, a determined look on her face as she stood.

The Cornerstone glowed brighter and for the first time in years, Imelda Warrington regretted not keeping her word shaping skills in good order.

At that moment, Max was getting a light shined in his eyes by a doctor. In the next several minutes he’d fall prey to another massive seizure - this one ending with him screaming ‘Merelie!’ at the top of his voice before passing out.

The Cornerstone choir piped up again. Not screaming this time, but making a dreadful low pitched keening noise.

‘It’s fighting back,’ Merelie said, from a defensive position behind the sofa. ‘It’s trying to block them.’

‘That’s a good thing, isn’t it?’ Imelda’s voice had gone up an octave.

‘It won’t work.’

Imelda backed away from the coffee table as the book glowed like a miniature sun, continuing to wail in that horrible tone.

‘The Cornerstone won’t let anyone use it who shouldn’t,’ she replied, sounding more confident than she felt.

‘These things aren’t like us. They come from dark places,’ Merelie told her. ‘The Cornerstone’s programming won’t account for them. It won’t know what to do. With Wordsmiths helping them, it doesn’t stand a chance.’

Merelie was right.

The pot-plant, microwave and books were blasted upwards, ricocheting off the ceiling. Imelda had to dodge shards of the terracotta pot as it exploded, sending the rubber plant spiralling over her head.

Merelie cried in pain as one of the heavy books hit her on the shoulder and she instinctively ducked behind the sofa to avoid more flying shrapnel.

The Cornerstone flew open, projecting a sick purple and black light that writhed and spun, bathing the room in a nightmarish glow.

Somebody else burst from the book, but this person seemed more prepared for journey’s end and hit the coffee table standing, legs bent to take the weight of impact.

The book slammed shut in an effort to stop anyone else following.

Imelda recognised the man who’d come through straight away. Having spent eight years of her life head over heels in love with him, this was no surprise.

‘Elijah?’ she said to Halia Carvallen’s Arma.

Merelie came out from behind the sofa. ‘That isn’t Elijah, Wordsmith. Defend yourself.’

Merelie whispered words under her breath. The microwave, which lay broken by the staff room door, flew into the air, straight at the soldier’s chest. He batted it out of the way and snarled at Merelie.

Imelda could see that Elijah’s green eyes were now a seething mass of purple and black smoke. That, combined with the look of abject hate on his face, convinced her something dreadful had take possession of her friend's body.

She’d heard all about Merelie Carvallen’s dire warnings, dismissing them as the fancies of a girl with too much time on her hands. But here it was - in the flesh, coming to kill them - wearing the face of a man she’d once loved in her days at the Carvallen Academy.

Time to remember how the words work… and you’d better remember
fast
.

Imelda pointed at the door. ‘Go!’ she shouted at Merelie.

Merelie ignored her, whispered again, gestured with her hands and moved back as the sofa rose into the air in front of her.

‘What did you do to my mother?!’ she screamed, thrusting her arms out. The sofa shot towards the possessed Arma, fuelled by Merelie’s rage.

He couldn’t bat this away and both sofa and man smashed into the wall, knocking off shelves, smashing chairs and seriously damaging the staff room’s toilet bowl aesthetic.

‘That won’t keep it down for long,’ Merelie said, heading toward the door.

‘Long enough for us to get out and call the authorities!’

Imelda’s desire to keep this beyond the attention of local law enforcement had disappeared. The minute a monster wearing the face of your ex-boyfriend shows up, it’s time to call in reinforcements.

Both of them kept a wary eye on the sofa and the legs sticking out from under it as they hurried out of the mangled staff room.

‘Somebody must have heard all of that,’ Imelda said. ‘They’ll be coming to see what’s going on.’

‘They won’t be able to help,’ Merelie replied, speaking as someone who’d seen what those things were truly capable of in the last few days.

She was about to explain this when the sofa came flying out of the staff room like a battering ram, straight at her head.

- 4 -

The events leading up to this potential sofa / head interface started three weeks earlier, as Max Bloom winked out of existence in the Chapter House Library.

‘I hate him!’ Merelie exclaimed, as The Cornerstone drifted to the floor.

‘That’s a little harsh,’ Garrowain said, scooping up the book and brushing dust from the spine. ‘The boy has no reason to help us. Our opinion of his world isn’t favourable, so his anger was justified.’

‘That doesn’t help us much though, does it?’ Merelie replied and stamped off back to the Library Hub.

Garrowain shook his head, made a gesture with one finger that sent the huge guide to Earth sliding back into the shelf and followed after the incensed Merelie Carvallen, trying to think of something to say that might mollify her a bit.

As they returned to the comfortable surroundings of the waiting room, Borne looked down at his ward.

‘You didn’t expect this to be easy did you?’ he said.

Merelie shot him a black look and slumped into one of the soft couches.

‘Aah… you did, then.’ He sat down next to her. ‘That was a bit silly, don’t you think?’

‘He was supposed to be the one!’ she said, pounding the arm of the couch.

‘The one?’ he replied, incredulous. ‘You think fate is playing a part in this?’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘Maybe… but it certainly won’t show its hand to you, Merelie. You’ve got it in your head it has to be Max Bloom who saves us all, haven’t you?’

‘He seemed so nice!’ This sounded a little pathetic, but it was all she could think to say.

‘Looked nice too from your point of view, I expect.’

Merelie blushed at Borne’s implication, but remained silent.

‘Just because
you
like someone doesn’t mean they’re special to anybody else,’ he told her, being as blunt as possible.

‘That’s unfair.’

‘Is it? I don’t think so. I was young once, I know how these things work.’

Garrowain, not wanting the discussion to veer into the finer points of teenage romance, interrupted. ‘I think what your Arma is getting at is that hope is not lost, we just require another willing person from Earth to assist us.’

‘But… but he seemed like the right one,’ Merelie said, still trying to cling to an idea that had been well and truly blown out of the water. ‘Do we start again from scratch then?’ she said, looking downcast. ‘Can you help this time, Garrowain?’

The custodian shook his head. ‘As ever child, my actions are closely monitored. The other custodians and your father would know if I made contact with Earth for any reason.’

‘Isn’t there another way than just writing messages?’ Borne said, frustrated.

‘I don’t know, let me think about it.’ Garrowain looked up at an ornate clock on the wall. ‘You should both be getting back. Your father will want to know Mr Bloom was safely dispatched.’

‘He’ll probably still ground me, you know that don’t you?’

‘Possibly. But you must do everything you can to keep him happy, Merelie.’

Merelie sighed and got up. ‘Alright, I’ll go and make nice. Come on Borne, let’s not keeping father waiting.’

The girl and her Arma left the Library, leaving Garrowain to contemplate how best to find someone else ready, willing and able to help prevent disaster.

The custodian whole-heartedly believed Merelie was right. Earth must hold someone with enough hidden raw talent to help – it was just a matter of finding and training them.

As Garrowain walked back towards his private chambers, he pondered on what young Max Bloom had said. If none of his fellow citizens were prepared to learn how to word shape, there might be no-one strong enough to stop the creatures Merelie had foreseen in her nightmares. They would be doomed.

He did sympathise with Max, though.

The Chapter Houses did treat the people of Earth with a snobbish contempt that sickened him. It might ultimately prove their downfall, if Max was right and no-one else would come to their aid.

That couldn’t happen though, could it? Surely there’d be at least one person willing to see past the bigotry to help the Chapter Lands survive?

Garrowain very much hoped Max Bloom was not indicative of his entire species.

- 5 -

The next few days in the Carvallen lands were quiet.

Business went on as usual across the districts, the citizens living their lives under the watchful gaze of their Chapter House.

Jacob Carvallen attempted diplomacy as best he could with his fellow Chapter Lords, travelling via League Book to the other houses.

League Books were smaller, simpler versions of The Cornerstone - allowing travel between points in the Chapter Lands only, rather than across dimensions. They were kept in a room deep within the bowels of the Carvallen Library, guarded by Garrowain and his staff.

Each time Jacob would open the League Book, he would feel optimistic as he was transported instantly across thousands of miles. He would feel equally pessimistic when he came back, having failed to solve anything. Even the wise Garrowain could offer no words of comfort.

Bethan Falion was intent on teaching her people to read and write - going as far as to announce the building of new school houses in one of her largest cities.

Lucas Morodai responded to this by sending an army eastwards, using a combination of Wordcraft powered airships and League Books that his spies had planted close to Falion’s borders. The energy required to do this had killed several of his weaker Wordsmiths, but Morodai didn’t have a problem with self-sacrifice - provided he wasn’t the one being asked to do it.

He met Falion’s assembled forces in one of the low, rolling foothills surrounding the sprawling city, in the shadow of Chapter House Falion.

The battle was short and ugly, with the corpses of soldier and Wordsmith alike littering the field by day’s end. Neither side came out on top, but the Morodai army lost more men.

Lucas would have been enraged at his lack of success, if he hadn’t known the whole thing was a ruse designed to make the other Chapter Lord commit her forces at once.

Even as his men fell, Osgood Draveli put the finishing touches to a pact struck with the creatures that dwelled in the void between worlds.

Morodai had done all the hard work and his obsequious servant only had to tie up a few loose ends, but it seemed to be taking an age. Draveli looked to be more interested in making sure everyone knew how important he was, rather than getting the job done properly.

Morodai chalked this up as yet another reason to do away with the fat man once the dust had settled.

He only suffered his involvement at all because it had been seven Draveli Wordsmiths who’d stumbled on the Dwellers, during a botched trip to their House’s dirty, depressing dimension.

Six had their minds devoured by the awful creatures, but one survived through sheer luck - and was able to describe the monsters living in the shifting purple void as vile beings that fed on thought, consuming every mind they touched.

The fat Chapter Lord told Morodai everything and Lucas had put his own Wordsmiths to the task of making contact and convincing the Dwellers that a bargain of mutual advantage could be struck. Instead of eating the minds of the few unlucky enough to stumble across their nightmarish void… how would access to an entire race of people sound?

Once contact had been established and an agreement made, Morodai had set about determining a plan of attack with the horrific creatures.

The trade was simple: he would provide a way across the void into the Chapter Lands and in return they would do his bidding, attacking only those who opposed him.

He led, they fed… it was as straightforward as that.

As the dust settled on the battlefield and Bethan Falion started to plan her next attack, Morodai took over from Draveli to hasten things along.

Using the Cornerstone from his own House, Morodai had several hundred Wordsmiths create a gateway big enough for the loathsome creatures of Merelie’s nightmares to cross into the Chapter Lands. 

They had no physical form in this plane of existence, so thousands of hapless citizens were press-ganged into being hosts - threatened with the death of their loved ones if they refused.

A purple and black river of inky, writhing smoke came bursting from the golden Morodai Cornerstone, separating into hundreds of tendrils. It targeted the screaming, shackled ‘volunteers’ as they were pushed forward onto the battlefield by Chapter Guards carrying sharp lances.