The Cornerstone (18 page)

‘The guardian may wish to assist us.’

‘What? That thing’s as bad as they are!’

‘Nonsense. It can be perfectly reasonable… as long you explain your point of view.’ The old man looked up and spoke a few words under his breath. ‘Observe.’

Merelie and Borne both felt it - a strong pressure against the temples, like having your head squeezed in a vice.

The guardian ‘appeared’ behind them, its presence indicated by hardbacks and paperbacks flying off the shelves as it sped up the aisle.

Garrowain held out a hand. ‘Stop!’ he commanded.

Miraculously, it did.

The last book dropped to the ground as
something
hovered in front of the custodian’s outstretched arm.

Merelie sort of knew what the guardian was. She could more or less understand the concept of so many dark thoughts being kept in one place that they manifested themselves physically in the form of a bad tempered invisible entity.

The guardian had been around for years and while it had the potential to be lethal, it was treated like a vicious pet. One to be wary of at all times without a doubt, but also tolerated because it was unique and fascinating to study.

A custodian may get slightly mauled every now and again, and the hours it took to tidy away the books the guardian spat out in its wake were indeed tedious, but it was one of a kind and no other Chapter House had anything similar.

Bragging rights at the annual inter-House conferences were more than worth the occasional horrific injury, or week spent bent over picking up hardbacks.

Garrowain certainly exerted some control over it, which could prove useful. Especially as Merelie could now hear the hinges of the door at the end of the corridor beginning to squeal in protest as more weight was placed against them.

‘Now, your help is required,’ Garrowain began, in a tone any dog owner would recognise. ‘There are creatures that would destroy this Library and the books it contains. Your home is under threat.’

The air swirled as the guardian reacted.

‘I agree… it would be very bad.’

Several books flew off the shelves, bashing into one another before dropping in a heap. Garrowain winced, in the manner of someone who has seen this happen many times.

It was rather like finding a brown, smelly present from an aggressive Rottweiler on your front room carpet. You know you should chastise it, but you’re not one hundred percent sure it won’t chew your arm off for trying.

‘My associates and I intend to stop said creatures by means too complicated to go into now, but we would appreciate it if you could hold them up while we proceed through the Library.’

The air shifted about.

‘You understand me?’

‘I don’t think it does,’ Merelie said, just as the door gave way and the host of monsters came storming up the corridor.

Borne stepped forward, gave the space where he assumed the guardian was a long hard stare, and pointed his finger back at the closing pack.

‘Kill!’ he commanded.

All three were blown aside as the guardian barged past them, speeding up the aisle, books flying in its wake.

Garrowain, Merelie and Borne were citizens of the Chapter Lands and had never seen ten pin-bowling, but Max would have recognised a clean strike when he saw one.

Dwellers flew in every direction.

Merelie was disturbed to note that not all of the ones that rocketed into the thick, soupy mist above their heads came back down again. She also fancied she could hear the sound of chewing for a couple of seconds after they disappeared.

‘I think we should be leaving while we have the chance. The Cornerstone is close,’ Garrowain said, as possessed folk continued to fly this way and that - the guardian having huge fun with its new toys.

It wasn’t the smartest creature in the world however, so was unaware that two Dwellers, wearing the bodies of Elijah and Kelvin Holderness, had sneaked under its raging, invisible form.

Merelie took The Cornerstone from the shelf.

‘It’s not going to like this, you know,’ she said. ‘This is unauthorised use no matter what. It might not let Borne and I through.’

‘We won’t know until we try,’ Garrowain pointed out.

‘Put your arms around me Borne,’ Merelie told her Arma, ‘and hold on tigh-’

She was lifted violently off her feet as Elijah slammed into both of them.

Merelie was thrown forward and Borne crashed into the book shelf beside her, Kelvin Holderness leaping onto him like a rabid monkey.

The Arma was far bigger, but had been taken by surprise, so couldn’t throw the smaller man off before the terrible purple-black smoke erupted from Kelvin’s eyes.

‘No!’ Merelie screamed as the darkness took hold of Borne’s mind.

‘Go, girl! Get out of here!’ Garrowain shouted, word shaping Elijah away.

Merelie saw her brave Arma’s eyes consumed by the smoke, followed by his head snapping round to look at the custodian with blind hunger.

Kelvin’s lifeless body slumped to the ground, the Dweller now transferred into Borne.

The Arma ran at Garrowain, who stumbled back, trying to get out of reach.

Merelie’s attention was brought back to Elijah, who snarled at her. She desperately flung open The Cornerstone and began to read as the Arma attacked…

Merelie’s attention was brought back to Elijah, who snarled at her. She desperately flung open The Cornerstone and began to read as the Arma attacked…

Merelie popped out of existence, while Garrowain ran deep into the bowels of the Library, the predatory Borne close behind.

Osgood Draveli stood in the Library’s wrecked entrance hall, listening to the sounds of the guardian leaving the area, its playthings now still and offering no more entertainment.

‘It’s nearly gone,’ he said to one of the Wordsmiths standing by him.

Draveli had entered the Carvallen Chapter House in triumph - once it had become clear that the creatures had disposed of any immediate threat - and had marched imperiously through the halls of the House, keen to see Jacob Carvallen and his snotty wife turned into Dwellers, ready and willing to serve.

He’d been diverted when word had come that Merelie Carvallen had escaped into the Library. The Chapter Lord had been forced to detour down here to take charge of her capture.

At this point, the fat little man was completely drunk on power, ordering the Dwellers around like slaves. Lucas Morodai treated them with more respect, knowing full well they could turn on him at any moment. But Osgood was - and let’s be fair about this - a complete idiot. He didn’t see any danger
whatsoever
in annoying incredibly powerful evil beings from another dimension.

Several possessed Carvallens stood at the doorway with him, keen to enter the Library and find more prey to feed on.

Had Osgood been blessed with any kind of backbone, they might have found some, but as he’d waited so long for the guardian to leave, by the time they discovered Elijah and the zombie-like Kelvin Holderness, all chances of a meal were long gone.

‘What happened?’ Osgood asked in his high pitched, nasal whine.

The thing inside Elijah snarled. ‘The girl has escaped through that.’ He pointed at The Cornerstone.

‘Blast! Lucas won’t be happy,’ Draveli said, a note of panic interfering with his attempts to sound commanding.

He picked up The Cornerstone and mumbled a few words over it. The choir made a protesting squeal.

‘No! You will do as I say!’ he demanded.

Osgood may have been an idiot, but he was still a Chapter Lord and had enough skill in Wordcraft to tackle the book’s defences - albeit briefly. He bombarded The Cornerstone with his will, until it capitulated and became quiet in his hands.

Draveli opened the book and stuck it in Elijah’s face. ‘Read this, creature. Be a good little dog... and go fetch!’

Elijah snarled once and looked at the page. He disappeared in a flash of silver light, the poor Cornerstone shrieking in protest.

Draveli tried to keep it open, but the book – now knowing the extent of Osgood’s abilities - was having none of it, slamming shut with a last bright flare of light.

He passed it over to one of his Wordsmiths. ‘Get this open again. Torture one of those old fools out front if you have to. I must go and report to Lord Morodai.’

…and see Carvallen and his bitch on their knees.

Draveli went waddling back up the aisle, leaving the Library at the mercy of the Dwellers and The Cornerstone in the clutches of the enemy.

Part Four

- 1 -

Max Bloom loved attention.

This especially held true when he was suffering from a debilitating illness, such as a mild head cold. He figured the more he told people how debilitating the mild head cold was, the better the chances were that they’d believe him and offer the requisite sympathy. 

This never worked.

What’s more, on the one occasion he actually picked up proper influenza, the crying wolf factor kicked in and he was ignored by everyone until he threw up on the P.E teacher.

So you’d think he’d be more than happy with the little crowd of people gathered round him as a result of the two inexplicable seizures.

He wasn’t though… not by a long shot.

His mother was there, along with Monica. Max’s little sister actually looked a bit worried, which hammered home the seriousness of the situation.

Figgy and his mum were also in attendance: her talking animatedly with Amanda Bloom, him picking his nose in the corner and trying to remain inconspicuous.

A rotund nurse took Max’s temperature, while a doctor - who looked just about old enough to know what he was talking about - shone a torch into his eyes.

‘I’m fine you know,’ Max lied.

In fact his head was bursting and his stomach felt terrible, but he just wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible and make it back to that damn library.

During the seizures he’d had visions of Merelie Carvallen in
big
trouble.

He’d seen her enter our world and be followed by some big, scarred maniac who looked a bit like Lemmy from Motorhead.

A link had evidently been created between Max and The Cornerstone, meaning every time it got used, it sparked off one of these manic seizures. Unless he found the bloody thing and stopped it, he supposed he’d have one every time some idiot from the Chapter Lands popped across for a look about.

Max had sensed Merelie’s state of mind as she’d breached the gap between worlds: absolutely terrified.

With the brief skim he’d also had of Lemmy’s head as he crossed the endless gulf, the situation was clear.

Merelie’s dreams had come true. The monsters with smoke filled eyes had invaded her world and were now turning their attention to Earth.

Max had no idea what happened after Lemmy had burst out of The Cornerstone, but he doubted it involved a rendition of Ace of Spades, necking a bottle of Jack Daniels and copping off with the nearest groupie.

Chances are he’d attacked Merelie - and Imelda Warrington, if she was there as well. He didn’t think either would be able to put up much of a fight.

Max had to get out of this stupid hospital and over to the library.

‘I have to get out of this stupid hospital,’ he said to his mother, who broke off the conversation she was having with Figgy’s mum.

‘I don’t think so young man. I want the doctor to check you over thoroughly.’

Max could see the tears of concern in her eyes and decided he had no chance of getting out of here any time soon. All he could do was sit and fret about Merelie Carvallen - while trying to ignore the pangs of guilt he felt about the way he’d left her to her fate.

- 2 -

When a citizen of the Chapter Lands displays a talent for Wordcrafting, they’re immediately inducted into the training academy of their House.

Only a dozen or so people a year are given the chance to develop their skills, graduating as Wordsmiths if they pass all the tests. The training is hard and most of those inducted fail - spending the rest of their lives in House sanctioned jobs, such as Library custodian or the Chapter Guard.

Those who do pass can look forward to a privileged lifestyle acting as ambassadors for their House, defending it if necessary.

One defining aspect of a Wordsmith is their capability to think fast and use their craft without hesitation: Training becomes instinct, instinct becomes action.

This had been ingrained into Imelda Warrington’s psyche.

Just as well, because twenty years later, reflexes and skills not used for decades were required in an instant.

Imelda saw the brown sofa flying towards Merelie’s head and her instincts kicked in. Her arms flew out and she word shaped.

It was weak - she was
very
rusty - but it was enough.

The sofa, instead of hitting Merelie square in the face and killing her, was knocked off course by Imelda’s effort. It glanced off Merelie’s shoulder, sending her spinning like a top, and flew past smashing into the library’s horticulture section, knocking the entire stack over. 

Merelie crashed into a nearby table, her head hitting the edge.         

Elijah burst through the shattered staff room doorway and ran at Imelda, bellowing in rage, spittle flying from his lips.

She tried to back peddle as he closed, but he grabbed her by the shoulders, his cold fingers digging painfully into her skin. The horrid smoke began to spin from his eyes and she knew she had to act or be damned where she stood.

Imelda shaped words into another blast of energy that sent the monster crashing into the astronomy section.

She looked down at her hands with disbelief, amazed she was word shaping so effectively.

See? Being a Wordsmith still comes naturally. All it needs is a monster trying to kill you to get the ball rolling
.

The library helped, of course.

A Wordsmith’s power was enhanced by the presence of books, and here the weight of written thought and emotion was palpable. This made Imelda strong enough to bring the entire astronomy bookshelf down on Elijah, pinning him to the floor.