by David Ashby
“Someone like you?” repeated Nils. “Are you magic or something, Ms Toureau?”
She smiled at Nils. “I’m a book-keeper,” she said.
“Like an accountant?” asked Anna.
Ms Toureau shook her head. “No, not like an accountant. I’m more like a… bee-keeper kind of book-keeper. I look after magical and enchanted books, and keep them buzzing and keep them safe.”
“So did someone contact you?” William repeated his question. She looked at him and held his gaze.
“No. Nobody has contacted me.”
“Nobody at all? Nobody from our side of the veil?”
She continued holding his gaze, unwavering. “That’s what I said.”
“Well,” said William, running his hand through his hair. “There’s a thing.”
Jack had been very quiet since they entered the school, and now he could feel a prickling at the back of his neck, and a flip-flopping in his stomach. He felt more scared now than when the tanglewolf had been facing him in the Darkwood. He felt that he was going to start shaking.
And he had no idea why.
CHAPTER 27
“The thing is,” said William, “the person who gave me your name is not normally the sort of person who gets things wrong. And that person was very certain indeed you had been contacted by someone about a certain book.”
Ms Toureau leant back against the library counter—where only the other day Anna had checked out Don’t Let Your Yesterdays Waste Your Tomorrows, a really good poetry book—and crossed her legs at the ankles. “Even that kind of a person can make mistakes,” she said, crossing her arms, “I suppose.”
It went very quiet, and Anna felt as if the temperature in the library had dropped by a few degrees. She looked over at Jack, who was shivering, and guessed he must feel it too. But was it really that cold?
William looked over at the goblin. “Gribblebob, my gallant, unkempt friend, we know I am in your book of untrustworthy creatures and so forth. Tell me, would our fine, friendly book-keeper here also happen to be in that book of yours?”
The goblin looked from William to Ms Toureau, and back to William.
“Can’t nightly say. Don’t recall the name, and since me book went hibbledy-squibbledy into young fellow-my-lad over there, I’ve not been getting any warnings. Didn’t even get a warning when I saw you. Remembered your name, is all.”
Ms Toureau uncrossed her arms, laid them behind her, resting her palms on the desk, and in a hurt voice said, “Why, Mr Wynn. Anyone would think you were casting aspersions on my hard-won reputation. I am a school librarian, you know.”
“And a good one,” said Anna, who was a little surprised at how the atmosphere in the room had changed.
“Well, thank you, sweet,” said Ms Toureau warmly. “It’s always nice to be appreciated.” Then she looked back at William and continued, “And what is the book I was supposed to have been asked about?”
William said nothing, and Nils began to fill in the awkward silence.
“It’s called The Book of—”
“It’s of no matter,” William said sharply, interrupting him, “if my sources were wrong this time.”
Nils looked to the floor and Ms Toureau smiled sweetly at William. “Everyone gets things wrong sometimes, Mr Wynn. Even you.”
The room went quiet again, and Anna didn’t like how it felt. “What books do you have, Ms Toureau?” she asked. “I can’t believe there were magic books here in the school all the time and I never knew.”
“Books of spells, books of protection, a few others…” The librarian’s voice trailed off and she pushed herself away from the desk and addressed William again. “I have to say, Mr Wynn, I do wonder about the wisdom of letting two children from here”—she waved a hand in the air—“know all about our side of the veil, about magic books and…” Again, her voice trailed off. “No disrespect to you two, of course,” she said to Anna and Nils.
“It was me toldum,” said Gribblebob. “Didn’t have no choice, with young fella-me-lad having me book all over his hand.”
“Oh,” said Ms Toureau, suddenly sharply interested. “Show me?”
Before William or anyone else could say anything, Nils held his arm and hand out and spread his fingers wide so the characters could be seen scrolling at speed across his skin.
“My word,” exclaimed the librarian. “What an extraordinary boy you must be.” She reached out to take Nils’s hand in hers, but to his own surprise he jerked his hand back before she could. He’d simply had a deep feeling inside that he shouldn’t let her touch his hand, or rather, that what was in his hand wouldn’t allow her to touch it. “Extraordinary,” she repeated, slightly more steel-edged this time.
“Good heart and kind of thought,” said Jack, and everybody looked at him in surprise as it had been such a long time since he had said anything.
“Just so, Mr Broadsword,” said Ms Toureau, looking back at Nils. “Just so.”
CHAPTER 28
“We should leave,” said William, looking hard at Ms Toureau. “Sorry to have wasted your time.”
“Always nice to see someone else from… Trinidad,” she replied, with a little grin. “But surely you won’t be taking the children with you? I don’t think they really belong with you, do they? This is their school, after all, and besides,” she turned to the children before William could say anything, “wouldn’t you two like to see my special books? Now that you know about the veil, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Oh, please,” said Anna instinctively, but Nils still felt something inside from when the librarian had tried to take his hand.
“School’s shut,” he said, “and I want to stay with William, Jack and him.” He nodded his head towards the goblin.
“Yes, we’re leaving,” said William decisively.
“Mmm.” Ms Toureau frowned and drew her lips into a thin, straight line as she shook her head from side to side. “You know, I really don’t think they are.” Just as she finished speaking, all the blinds in the library windows suddenly crashed down and the door to her office slammed shut. The children and the goblin jumped, Jack started shivering more and William took a step towards the librarian.
Ms Toureau held up a hand, palm outwards, facing William.
“Don’t come any closer, Mr Wynn. You and your shivery friend and Mr Robert Gribble there are free to go. In fact, I insist on it.” And as she said that, the main door to the library flew open with a wisp of wind. “But the children stay with me.”
“What are you?” asked William. “When I was told about you, I was told you were a book-keeper, a good, knowledgeable book-keeper, but not that you had magic in you like this.”
Ms Toureau ignored William’s question and held up her other hand, palm upwards, towards him. “Leave,” was all she said, and then it was as if there was a tunnel of wild wind blasting towards William and forcing him back towards the open library door. As he slid back across the waxed wooden floor, his hands reached out and grabbed at the bookshelves as he passed them, sending books tumbling to the floor in a flutter of pages.
“What’s happening?” shrieked Nils, in real terror. Anna rushed over to her little brother and put her arm around him, pulling him close and feeling his whole body vibrate with fear.
“Leave!” repeated Ms Toureau, more loudly this time, and her voice had a slightly different tone now, as if it were made up of a thousand soft screams, all held together by an anger and a fear that was on the edge of coming apart at any second. “LEAVE!”
William went slipping back towards the open door, his trailing hands leaving a clatter of books in his wake. He tried to say something, tried to do something, tried to do the same thing he had done when he had helped Jack with the tanglewolf in the Darkwood, but the pressure of the wind on his chest drew the breath from his lungs and the spit from his mouth. His eyes teared up, and he was helpless. As William neared the door, he looked over at Jack, who was leaning against a far wall of books, shivering.
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Dimple started barking wildly, but Gribblebob didn’t even bother to try and silence his halfway-there dog as he watched the librarian, or whatever she was, send tall William Wynn out of the library with a final, fearsome flourish. The door slammed shut after him.
“What—” began Anna.
“Quiet!” said Ms Toureau firmly. Then, softer, “sweet.” She turned to Gribblebob. “You and your yapping hound can take the window.” She held up one hand, and as she did so, the goblin and his dog were lifted up off the floor of the library in a powerful flurry of gusts and went flying towards one of the big library windows.
“Gerroffameeee!” shouted out Gribblebob, and barely a heartbeat before he and Dimple went smashing through the glass, the window opened to let them out, squeaking shut again a moment later.
While this was going on, Jack had drawn his broadsword, although with trouble, as his hands were shaking so much and he felt weak and breathless. He moved towards Omeria Toureau, while her eyes were watching the goblin and his pet fly out of the window. Once the window flew shut, she turned to the advancing warrior.
“Mr Broadsword. Living up to your name, I see. Now, I wonder where I shall send you. The door? The window? Or maybe I’ll crush you here, instead. I don’t really like the look of that sword…”
“DON’T!” shouted Anna, and Ms Toureau turned to the girl.
“I’ve told you once to be quiet, sweet. Don’t make me have to tell you twice.” As Ms Toureau said this, Anna shrunk back against her brother, holding him tight to her. The librarian turned back to Jack.
“You know, I think I will crush you, after all.”
Just then, there was an almighty flash, like lightning or the millions of crystals in a snowstorm suddenly igniting, and in the howl of thundering waves of light, the children were blown off their feet to the floor, Ms Toureau was thrown back across her desk, several bookshelves toppled over and about a half-dozen lightbulbs exploded at the same time. There was a hazy mist where Jack had been standing, and as it dissipated up into the crackled electricity surrounding the exploded lights, it could be seen that Jack was no longer there.
Bengt Arbuthnot was.
CHAPTER 29
William lay on his back on the cold, hard school corridor floor and felt the breath gradually returning to his body. His eyes were shut, his chest and stomach hurt where the force of the wind had pummelled him and the backs of his legs ached from trying to withstand its immense force. His fingers were sore where he had grabbed at the bookshelves. It had been a very long time since William had been unable to use his very particular abilities to protect himself or others around him. But in the library, no matter how much he had willed himself, he hadn’t been able to transform into what he needed to be, into that creature that wasn’t quite a bat, not exactly a raven, but no longer only a man. Something had been stopping him. It was like trying to push against a bolted door. It frustrated and angered him. Suddenly there was a huffy panting sound and a wet, raspy tongue was licking at his face.
“I don’t think he likes you,” said Gribblebob, and William opened his eyes to see the goblin standing over him and the nearly-there dog by his face, licking him enthusiastically. “I just think he’s curious about how you taste. So don’t let it go to your head.”
William pushed the dog away gently and sat up. The bits of Dimple you could see started to get licked by the bits of Dimple you couldn’t see.
“Where’s Jack?” asked William. The goblin nodded towards the locked library door.
“In there, I ’pose. He hasn’t been chucked out, anyhoo.”
“And the boy and the girl?”
“Same.”
William stood up and dusted off his coat and his trousers. He stretched and cursed softly at the various aches and pains.
“I was prized you didn’t do that thing you normally do,” said the goblin. “I was almost looking forward to seeing it up close, like.”
“I was rather surprised myself.”
“It’s a paw full of quiet in there,” said the goblin, reaching over to Dimple. “Oh, don’t do that, boy,” he said, “’t ain’t savoury.” The dog stopped its licking spree and smacked its chops instead. “Are we going to go back in, then?”
“If we can,” said William. He drew himself up to his full height, put his head back, blew out a breath of air between pursed lips and shook his head so his long hair flew out and round. There was a beating of wings and a flurry of darkness as, this time, he was able to will himself to change, to transform into his other self or, maybe, just perhaps, his true self.
CHAPTER 30
Bengt looked around the library in huge surprise. The last thing he remembered—well, the last thing he properly remembered—was being sat under his favourite tree with his notepad, his good pen and his favourite pastime of being people other than him. He did have some sort of half-memory of being called, of being yanked out of himself, and rising then tumbling and falling, and some wisps of things not quite seen, and of sleeping, and of waking up extremely slowly, like on a summer Sunday morning with the brightness shining through the gap where the curtains don’t quite meet and lighting up the dust motes spiralling lazily overhead. But those half-memories did not feel as hard and as sharp as the wooden floor under his feet and the fallen down bookshelves, scattered books and bits of broken lightbulb he could see everywhere.
There was a soft moaning from the big library desk, and as he stretched his neck to see, the librarian, Ms Toureau, was in the process of setting herself up on her knees, one hand on the desk.
“Bengt?” he heard, and looking to the other side of the desk he saw Anna, from his year, and her younger brother. What was his name again? Neil?
“Anna?” he responded. “What’s going on?”
“Where’s Jack?” asked Nils.
“Jack?” said Bengt, his third question in a row.
“Jack Broadsword,” said Anna, and Bengt stiffened. How did they know about one of his secret names? Had they gotten hold of his book? What if they gave it to Mandy? No, Anna wouldn’t do that, she wasn’t like that. All this was going through his mind as Ms Toureau staggered gingerly to her feet. She put one hand to her face and blinked once or twice, her vision steadying, and then she saw Bengt.
“Oh,” she said, “and do we have another extraordinary boy with us today, I wonder?”
“Ms Toureau?” And there was Bengt’s fourth question in a row. He was starting to feel more and more stupid about not understanding anything that was going on. But even though he felt slightly stupid, he also felt, in a strange way, he was meant to be here.
The librarian ignored Bengt and turned to the other two children. “However, the extraordinary boy I need just now is the one who has books in his fingertips. I have use of you. Come here.” She stretched out her hand towards Nils and wriggled her fingers at him. “Now.”
Nils stood stock-still next to his sister and held on to her tighter.
“Before I get tetchy again,” said Ms Toureau.
Nils made no sign of moving.
Ms Toureau blew out a breath of frustration, and with one quick movement, in a burst of bright wind, the librarian was suddenly right by Nils. The ring on her finger flashed as she grabbed him by the ear and yanked him roughly from the protective arm of his sister.
“OW!” he shouted.
“Let him go!” screamed Anna at the same time.
There was suddenly a smash of breaking glass and a huge, dark, winged creature flew through a shattering window, heading towards the librarian with a screech and squeal of anger, sharp silver claws and hungry, shining teeth eager for her. Ms Toureau put up her hands, palms out, as if to conjure the same furious winds as before, but this time the airborne animal, seemingly made of mist and shadow and sharp edges, was too fast and too wild and too angry, and it reached her before the wind could start. It dived straight for her face. Claws sliced, teeth bit and the librarian screamed.
She put her hands to her face and tried
to pull the frenzied shadowbeast off, but the creature had too much of a hold, and its teeth and claws were in too deep. Her scream grew, but now it came from deeper inside her, and a thick, sticky oil of evil started to run from the cuts and the bites, where you might have expected blood to flow, and Ms Toureau’s body went limp as the oil ran faster and faster out of her, and swirled into a black, twisting, streaming figure, eyes wide with fear and loathing, mouth stretched with shrieks, before it misted away into a soft implosion of nothingness and only the echo of screams.
The dark, winged creature loosed itself from the librarian’s face, and in a flutter of wings and claws and teeth was gone. Only William Wynn was left standing there, and he knelt quickly down and cradled the body of Ms Toureau, who was now bleeding red, not black.
“Rip-rider,” he said.
“I-I…” stammered Anna, and Nils turned his face away. Bengt stood staring right at William Wynn. He knew him in some way, recognized him. But from where?
There was tinkle of glass by the window and Gribblebob climbed in. He took just one look at Ms Toureau in William’s arms and turned to Nils.
“There’s not many minutes left inside her. She’ll need a-fixing.” He nodded towards the back office, with its closed door. “In there, she said she had books of protection. Fetch one.”
“ME?” shouted Nils, tears starting in his eyes. “I don’t know! I wouldn’t know.”
“You don’t needs to know. The way my book went and slurped its way on you, it seems books of magic take a liking to you.”
“Remember, you’ve got a good and kind heart,” said Anna, and squeezed her brother’s hand.
“You’ll be picking the one which works,” said the goblin, and nodded his head. Nils waited a second, Anna nudged him, and then he went running to the office.