The Library - The Complete Series (22 page)

Vanguard

"Look at this weapon," I say, as I set my broadsword down on the table. "Look at the cuts and dents. Watch how they catch the light. They weren't there when this sword was created. When it was first pulled from the fires of a swordsmith's kiln, this sword was bright and smooth. So much has happened since then." Turning the sword, I watch as glints of light ripple along the pocked surface. "Each little imperfection is the mark of a battle in which this sword was used to kill those who stood in my way. I can't tell you how many times I've washed the blade, even though I know that soon it will be soaked in more blood." Running my finger toward the tip, I pause to feel a slight gash in the metal. "This was from the head of a Golv. Their bones are tougher than diamond, but still I was able to remove his head. A long time ago now, but I remember it as if it was yesterday. As sword such as this demands to be used. When it is sheathed for too long, it becomes anxious. When it knows it is needed, it calls out to be held aloft. Right now, this sword is screaming."

We stand in silence for a moment.

"I don't hear anything," Weary says, his voice sounding weak and frail in the gloom.

"That is because you are not at one with the sword," I reply sternly.

"I'd rather keep things that way," he says. "Being at one with a sword sounds kinda painful." Sighing, he closes his notebooks and starts tidying his pencils away. "Did you come down here for a reason, Vanguard? I don't know about you, but I'm busy. I've got logs and databases to check, re-check, cross-check and double-check. I've got research requests coming out of my ears. I'm going crazy here, and now suddenly you come barging in and start rambling on about some sword -"
"It's not
some
sword," I say, interrupting him. "It is the sword of a mighty warrior."

"Who?"

I frown. "Me."

"Oh."

"I have carried this sword into battle countless times, and I am preparing to carry it into battle again. First, I need to find the one man who can help me bring peace to this land, and then I must face the flames of our enemies. In order to achieve this, I need someone who can accompany me on part of my journey." Taking a deep breath, I pause for a moment and reflect on the unlikely nature of this situation; after all, it is scarcely credible that a great warrior such as myself could require help from a measly researcher. Nevertheless, the situation is dire. "I need you," I say, fixing Weary with a determined stare. "You must come with me at once."

"Must I?"

"There can be no debate."

Silence.

"Weary," I continue, sensing that he's reluctant, "I
need
you."

"Me/" he asks eventually, staring blankly at me. "Vanguard? Seriously?" He swallows hard. "Me?"

"You know the catacombs beneath the Citadel better than anyone," I explain. "You have written books on the subject, and drawn maps. Even if we have no torch, you can find your way around by sense alone. Believe me, Weary, I'm not asking you to come down there because of some misguided belief that you might be useful in battle. I need you with me because that place is like a maze, and because I don't have time to waste. Without you, I might stumble through the corridors for years on end and still never find what I'm looking for."

"And what
are
you looking for?" he asks, eying my sword nervously.

"I need to find the Librarian's escape route," I reply. "I need to know which way he went, so that I might pick up his scent. As difficult as it might be for you to believe, I'm certain I can track him if I can just work out which way he went. I am fully aware that the journey will be difficult; those catacombs are a death-trap for anyone who wanders unprepared beyond the lower steps, and many great warriors have fallen while they attempted to navigate the dead zone beneath the Citadel. If the Librarian is hidden down there somewhere, or if he used the catacombs to find a route out of the Citadel altogether, I need to know how I can follow him. Only by following him and tracking him down, can I hope to find the first book."

"The first book?" Weary frowns. "Why do you want such an obscure thing?"

"I don't," I explain, "but the Forbidders
do
. It is why they came here in the first place, and they can be mollified if only the book is given to them."

"Huh," Weary says, seeming rather unenthusiastic about the whole thing. "It's an interesting plan, Vanguard. Insane, but interesting. However, there are certain problems. First, the Librarian is long gone, so I feel to see how you think you can still pick up his trail. Second, even if you find his trail, he could easily have passed through parts of the Library that have been razed, so I doubt his trail would be complete. And third, the whole thing... Vanguard, the idea of going down into the catacombs is insane. It's beyond insane, it's reckless."

"It requires great courage," I tell him.

"It requires more than that," he continues. "It requires psychopathic levels of self-belief, not to mention a complete disregard for the lessons of history. No-one in their right mind would even consider making a trip down there, not unless he wanted to add his bones to the piles of those who have gone before him."

"I have no choice," I reply. "I am going, and you will come with me."

He shakes his head.

"You must," I say firmly.

"Or what? Are you gonna threaten to hurt me? Are you gonna try to force me down that at sword-point?"

"I don't need to
threaten
anything," I reply. "You know my reputation. You know I always get what I want, even if I have to wait a thousand years to get it. The difference this time is that I can't afford to wait. The Forbidders are at the door, Weary, and you've got a choice. Either you come with me into the catacombs and help me find the Librarian's route, or you sit around here and wait for the Forbidders to sweep through the Citadel. They'll kill everything in their path, and they'll leave the place in ruins. If you're still here, they'll inhale your life-force and exhale the dust of your corpse. It's not much of a choice, Weakly, but I find it hard to believe that you'd choose to face the Forbidders."

"You're forgetting the third option," he says. "I could run. I could just get the hell out of here and run to the edge of the world, and then, if that's not enough, I could jump off into the void. Frankly, that's starting to sound more and more like a good idea. They say it's possible for a man to survive several minutes in the void. You never know, I might get rescued."

"You can try to run," I say firmly, "but you wouldn't make it as far as the door. I would make certain of that."
"But it's madness!" he replies, clearly starting to panic. He knows that there's no way he can escape, but he's not quite ready to lead me down into the depths beneath the Citadel. "You've lost your senses!" he continues. "Yes, I've been down to the catacombs, but only to explore the entrance area. The rest of my knowledge has been gleaned from hearsay and rumor, and from the dying words of madmen. You think I can help you get around down there, but you'd do no better or worse with a trained monkey by your side. The catacombs are not a place for the living. The dead are the only ones who are welcome down there."

"Soon the whole Library will be dead," I reply.

He sighs. "There's a reason people don't go down into the catacombs, Vanguard. Even the Soldiers of Tea knew better than to go messing around down there. You know the stories. They say that the further you go down, the closer you get to the old world that was here before the Library. No-one has ever gone down there and survived. I've seen men walk through the entrance, and the only thing that ever comes back is the faint sound of someone screaming far below. My predecessors and I decided long ago that we would not seek to explore the catacombs to any great degree. Best to leave the place alone and hope it affords us the same courtesy." He pauses for a moment. "If the Librarian went that way, he's lost forever." He pauses for a moment. "There's just no way we can go marching in there and expect to rescue the fool. Whatever happened to him, he's undoubtedly been ripped apart. At best, you might find his bones, neatly piled up by one of the creatures that inhabit the catacombs."

"The Forbidders are almost upon us," I say. "Finding the Librarian and getting hold of the first book is a long shot, but it's our only hope. We've tried fighting, we've tried resisting, and now we can only seek to feed their hunger. Think about it, Weary. If we find that book and we get it to the Forbidders, they'll leave our land forever. We'll never again have to watch as the shelves burn. We can rebuild." Taking my sword from the table, I place it back into his sheath before turning and heading to the door. "I'm going down there," I say, glancing back at him. "With or without you, I'm going to enter the catacombs. You can either come with me and help me find my way, or you can sit up here and wait to die. I know which option I'd choose. Do you happen to know, Weary, exactly
how
the Forbidders kill their victims?"

He stares at me, his face seeming a little pale. "No," he says weakly.

"Neither do I," I reply.

Walking out of the room and making my way along the corridor, I smile as I hear a set of footsteps running after me. I always knew I'd be able to get Weary on my side, even if it was inevitable that I'd have to work hard in order to overcome his innate cowardice. As long as I've known him, Weary has seemed desperate to choose the easiest and safest option in every situation. Now, finally, he has found himself presented with a series of equally unpalatable possibilities, and he has been forced to pick the one that seems least likely to result in his painful and imminent death.

"If I come with you," he stammers, "what happens next? Say we find the Librarian, and we even find this book. What happens after that? Are you seriously suggesting that the Forbidders will just turn around and go home?"

"That's what I've been told," I reply.

"And you believe that? Excuse my incredulity, but why would they come all this way, and spent so many years causing vast levels of destruction across the land, simply for a book?"

"They believe that the book represents a certain type of power," I tell him. "A type of power that is perhaps insignificant in our world, but which could change their world immeasurably. Whether or not they are correct about this assumption, I have no idea, but I will seize any opportunity to make such foul creatures leave us alone." Stopping at the end of the corridor, I turn to Weary and pause for a moment. "I meant what I said. This journey is dangerous, and I can't guarantee your safety. But it's the only way we can hope to defeat the Forbidders and save the Library. If we can't find the Librarian down in the catacombs, this entire land will be doomed forever."

Claire

"The Grandapams are one of the Library's oldest and most distinguished civilizations," says Fig, her light, airy voice reaching me from the other side of the heavily-fortified door. "As far as I know, there's no record of their arrival, though it's widely assumed that they came from one of the closest of the seven worlds, probably back when the Library was still forming. In the earliest texts, the old scholars simply accept that the Grandapams are here, and that they are to be respected. But things changed, and the Grandapams showed a surprising willingness to be subjugated. One might even say that they enjoy being a slave race."

"No-one
enjoys
being a slave," I reply, standing at the window and staring out across the Library. The fires are getting closer, and I'm starting to wonder whether the entire land is going to be destroyed. It feels safe in the Citadel for now, but I need to find a way back to my own world as soon as possible.

"Perhaps they
do
," Fig suggests. "Perhaps this is what makes the Grandapams happy. They've certainly never shown any other ambitions." She pauses. "Do you mind if I ask why you're suddenly so interested in such people?"

"I've met one," I say. "She says she's happy to be eaten by her master when the time comes."

"It has been a long time since I was among Grandapams," Fig continues. "Clearly, they have become even more subservient over the years. The ancient scholars felt that the Grandapams had the potential to become a mighty warrior race, but they put aside their weapons and chose instead to work as cooks and cleaners and maids for other species. They offered themselves as servants, and they have shown no desire to carve out any other role for themselves within the Library. One must be careful, Claire, of judging others by our own standards. Just because you humans are filled with an urge to compete for glory, don't assume that everyone else feels the same way. You won't understand much around here if you just assume that we're all basically the same as you."

"But she's going to let herself be eaten," I continue. "I totally get that she wants to serve, but she's going to throw down her life. She talks about being eaten as part of some huge feast, as if it's some kind of great honor. I can't let that happen."

"You can't stop it, and you have no right to stop it. I'm sure the Grandapam could walk away if she so chose, but she wishes to fulfill her ancestral duty. For a Grandapam, it is a matter of honor to serve a master for many years and finally to allow him to consume your body. Anything else would be a grave dis-service, and you would be making a terrible mistake if you interfered in the affairs of this particular Grandapam. Why not focus on more pressing matters, such as the fact that you're still in the Library when you had hoped to be gone by now."

"I'm waiting for Vanguard," I say. "He promised he'd help me find a way back to my own world."

"So why has that not happened?" There's a hint of amusement in Fig's voice, as if she knows the answer to her question but would rather hear my view.

"Because he's busy. Because he's always busy and he never has time to see me. Every time I ask, I'm told he'll be along soon, but I'm starting to think..." My voice trails off as I realize I don't want to articulate the fears that have been festering at the back of my mind. In truth, though, I'm starting to believe that Vanguard has abandoned me; whether he has chosen to do this or he has been unavoidably detained, he's left me here to kick my heels and watch as the fires get closer and closer to the Citadel. Every morning, I look out the window and wonder whether the fires are going to get here before it's too late.

"I wouldn't rely too heavily on Vanguard, if I were you," Fig says. "I know him of old, and I can assure you that he's a man who will easily forget a promise made to one such as yourself. He chases glory, and nothing more. I doubt he's given you a second thought since he reached the Citadel. He's more likely to be focused on some grand endeavor that he believes will allow him to be restored to glory. If you're looking for a way home, you'll need to find someone else to help you. Vanguard isn't going to come back for you."

"You're wrong," I say. "He's just busy."

"I can assure you," she continues, "he will not help you. Trust me on this."

"You can see the future, can you?" I ask sarcastically.

"Perhaps," she says. "Not the whole of it, of course, but from time to time I become aware of little threads blowing in the wind, and I can attempt to divine certain future events from the nature of those threads. I get glimpses of things that are yet to be. I can promise you, for example, that I shall be seeing Vanguard before you see him. In fact, perhaps you have a message you'd like me to deliver when I drop in on him?"

"Just tell him to find me," I reply, "but don't worry about it too much. I can track him down myself."

"I doubt that," Fig says. "Haven't you heard? He's already set out on a little quest. He's still in the Citadel, but he's gone far, far below, and I doubt he'll be back for quite some time."

"If you know where he is," I say, "why don't you come out of your little cell and help me get to him?"

She laughs. "I'll be coming out of here soon enough. Don't worry about that. For now, focus on keeping your hands off that Grandapam. She knows what she's doing, and it's not fair for a human to show up and try to tell other species how they should be living. If she wants to offer herself to her superiors, you should let her do it. Anything else would be to risk a great conflict."

"Don't take this the wrong way," I say, heading over to the door, "but you haven't been as much help as I'd hoped."

"I never am," she calls after me. "That's one of the reasons I've hidden myself up here."

Once I'm out of the room, I make my way down the spiral staircase that leads to the lower floors of the Citadel. I'm not quite sure what I'd expected to get from Fig, but I guess I thought she'd at least
try
to help me find a way out of this place. Despite everything I said to her, I'm starting to despair of ever finding Vanguard, and I can't help wondering if she's right: has Vanguard decided to go off on some other quest, rather than sticking to his word and helping me find a way back to my own world? It's almost as if I'm in some kind of limbo, with no role in this world and no way back to my own. I've been clinging so firmly and so desperately to the hope that Vanguard will show me the way home, I've barely noticed the voice of doubt getting louder and louder in the back of my mind.

Until now.

Realizing I can't just sit around, I decide I have to be more pro-active. There's got to be a way to track Vanguard down and make him help me. After all, the way he described it, there should be little more to do than walk through some kind of portal. I don't understand how things work in the Library, but I'm certain there has to be a way for me to get home. If I could pass from my world to this world, surely I can pass back? Then again, I'm starting to wonder if my original hunch was right: maybe I really
did
suffer some kind of accident, and I'm stuck in a coma, and... Sighing, I remind myself that this place is all too real to be a dream.

Surprisingly, there's no sign of Natalia when I get down to my room. She's usually fussing around somewhere, especially when she realizes I've been exploring the rest of the building. Figuring she must be getting on with lunch, I go down to the kitchen, but she's nowhere to be found. Wandering between the counters, I find piles of food laid out, as if Natalia had begun to prepare a meal; for some reason, though, she seems to have abandoned her job, which seems kind of unlike her. I know I should just go back to my room and focus on the task of getting out of here, but I can't shake this nagging feeling that Natalia's sudden absence is an indication that something might be wrong. Given that she seems to have been so completely devoted to me since I arrived at the Citadel, I can't think of a single reason why she should suddenly be hard to find.

"Hey!" I call out. "Are you down here?"

No reply.

"Natalia?"

Walking to the far end of the kitchen, I step through a doorway and find myself in what appears to be a small pantry. There are a couple of other doors leading away from the room, and I head over to one of them, only to find that it opens onto the top of a spiral staircase.

"Natalia?" I call out again.

Silence.

Just as I'm about to turn around and go back through to the kitchen, I hear a distant noise from the bottom of the stairwell. It wasn't much; in fact, it sounded like a piece of metal being banged. Figuring I might as well take a look around, I start making my way down the steps, all the while wondering whether there's a chance that I could stumble upon a way home. After all, Vanguard seemed to think that there was some kind of portal in the Citadel, so I guess my best bet is to just keep looking around until I find the way back to my own world. At least it's something to do while I wait for Vanguard to finally come and see me. One thing's for certain: I've had enough of sitting around, twiddling my thumbs while Natalia waits on me and everyone else ignores me.

"Hello?" I say when I get to the bottom of the stairs and find myself in a long, narrow stone corridor. "Natalia?" This part of the Citadel feels different to the rest; while most of the building is clearly designed to look grand and impressive, things seem more functional down here, which leads me to wonder whether I've found the servants' quarters. Walking along the corridor, I try to decide whether it's a good idea to be down here. Then again, the only servant left in the Citadel these days is Natalia, and she's spent so much time dithering around in my bedroom lately that I don't see how she can be annoyed at me for coming down into her area.

Reaching the end of the corridor, I step through another doorway and find myself in a dark room, with straw on the floor. I take a couple of steps forward, before a rustling sound makes me stop. There's definitely someone in here, though I'm starting to think that maybe I've walked a little too confidently into a situation I don't understand.

"Natalia?" I say, my heart racing. When there's no reply, I take a step back. "Okay," I continue, "I didn't mean to disturb you, I just -" Suddenly I feel something brushing against my shoulder, and I turn to find a Grandapam standing next to me. I move back, staring at him as I realize that he's definitely not Natalia; he seems to be a male, his yellow and red eyes staring back at me with unsettling intensity.

"What are you doing down here?" asks a familiar voice from the shadows, and Natalia steps toward me with a concerned look on her face. Behind her, in the gloom, there are half a dozen more Grandapams, all keeping a watchful eye on me. I'm getting a distinct feeling that I've disturbed something.

"I was just looking for you," I say. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company."

"I told you to stay in your room," she replies, coming a little closer. "Why do you persist in wandering about this place, when you've been specifically told to stay put?"

"Sorry," I say, turning to find that one of the other Grandapams has blocked the doorway. "I'll just go back upstairs," I continue, but the Grandapam remains very deliberately in my path. There's something distinctly menacing about the way he's looking at me.

"You're really not very good at obeying orders, are you?" Natalia asks, stepping closer.

"It was a mistake," I say, looking over at her and then turning to the other Grandapams. "What are they doing here?" I ask. "I thought you said you were the last of your species?"

"Yes," Natalia replies. "I did say that." She takes another step closer. "However, there's been something of a change of plan." Suddenly, she raises her arm and slams her elbow down against my neck. I barely have time to let out a gasp before I black out, and the last thing I remember is the heavy thud of my body hitting the ground.