The Word Guardians: and the Battle for the Peacekeepers

by Lawrence Yarham

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “I’m at work,” he replied quietly.

  “Can I come over?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  She wasn’t sure if his reply expressed genuine interest or if it was begrudging. “Okay, I’m on my way,” she said quickly.

  “Yas?” she heard him ask as she took the phone away from her ear to end the call. She stood and looked at it for a moment. Should she call him back? But then, she realised, what if he had changed his mind? No, she just had to go and talk with him.

  She took a deep breath to try to gain control over herself, put her phone back in her pocket and picked up the book from the sofa, tucking it under her arm. She exited out the back of the shop as quickly as she could, locked it and ran back around to the front, across the square and up the steps of the library. At the top and a little out of breath, she opened one of the large double doors and continued to walk quickly, aiming for a purposeful look. She had no idea that she was failing to conceal her panic to onlookers.

  A high ceiling presented itself in the entrance area, along with a large curved stone welcome desk, the home of the administration staff. To the left was a glass wall leading into the children’s area of the library, and behind the desk were the main sections for adult book lending. To the left of the adult section was a staircase and elevator that led to the upper floors. Still walking as quickly as she could, Yas glanced around to try to see if she could spot Sam. Most likely, if he wasn’t in view on the ground floor, he’d be upstairs, putting away books that had returned by patrons.

  The lady that Sam often complained about was stationed behind the welcome desk in the foyer. Vickers regarded her keenly as Yas walked by. She was a little taller than Yas, wearing a turtleneck sweater and jeans that showed a toned physical form. Yas knew she was being watched and felt the moment had passed to offer a quick ‘hello’ or a smile. Instead she kept her eyes down and looked ahead. She felt distinctly uncomfortable so was relieved once the desk was behind her. She took out her phone and texted while she continued to walk.

  “Are u upstairs?” she thumbed quickly.

  She reached the bottom of the stairs and she started to climb, so that she was out of sight of Vickers. She hoped she didn’t have to come back down again.

  “3rd floor,” came the reply as she made her way up. She was grateful for the answer. That floor was one of the quieter areas of the library and this time on a Monday would be even more so. As she climbed the stone staircase, her mind turned to what she would say to him. She didn’t have a clue where to start.

  She reached the third floor of the library and made her way along the hallway that separated the glass windows and seating area from the aisles containing the books. Sam had been expecting her and was standing at the end of an aisle at the far end of the room, looking at his phone. He had a cart of books in front of him that he was working his way through. He looked up and smiled, then moved towards her.

  “What happened?” he asked. He could see she was troubled.

  “I don’t know...” was what came out. The words came from a deeper place of need. She tried to breathe for a moment, and realised she was shaking. Tears started to form in her eyes as she looked at him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and looked down at the carpet to try to keep her emotions in check.

  Sam stepped forwards towards her, recognising that he needed to provide some form of comfort. Not sure what to do, his hands started to raise to try and indicate to her to be calm. Yas misread his body language and put her free arm around him in a hug, which he returned. It took them both by surprise, but neither of them pulled back from it. Teardrops ran down her face. She recognised the shock she had been repressing, quickly followed by this being unfair to unload on Sam. She breathed carefully for a moment then composed herself.

  She stepped back and looked at his face. She wasn’t sure what she saw. There was a mix of emotions in his eyes.

  “I’m really sorry,” she said, tears starting to flow. “I should have believed you. I didn’t really know until today.” She started to break down into tears, her voice becoming louder as she did so. “McVale took me into a realm and it all happened so fast.” Her voice broke and she found herself flapping her free hand to try to quell her emotions.

  “Its okay,” he replied softly, reaching forwards again. “Here,” he took the book from her and they hugged again. She was grateful for the connection. She held onto him and tried to control herself. Then she realised her wet cheek was against his neck.

  “Oh, God,” she said, becoming self conscious and pulling back a little from the hug. She tried to dry his neck with her hand and then wiped her eyes, while sniffing. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry,” he replied, smiling back at her to be supportive. He’d never seen Yas not in control in a situation, so this was new territory for him.

  He looked down at the book. In truth, he wanted to be angry with her but could see that he needed to be there for her right now. He looked past her towards the stairs. He was a little worried that anyone around may have overheard her talk about realms. He saw no one. Hopefully they were alone.

  Yas stood still for a moment, the events racing back through her mind. Finally, she said what she’d wanted to say at the start of the conversation. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Tell me what happened?” Sam asked, motioning her towards the chairs in front of the windows.

  Yas took the hint and sat down. She collected her thoughts. Sam sat a little further along the same seat, putting the book down between them. She turned to him and slowly explained the events on Saturday, the book that was a gift from her grandpa, then the talking squirrel and the Great Oak. Then she told him about her conversation with McVale and described what had happened in Victorian London. She paused occasionally, focussing on her breathing so that she would not head into a sobbing mess again.

  Through the few minutes it took her to retell the tale, he sat and listened, entirely focussed on her. Once she had finished, he just sat there and looked deep in thought.

  “I’m sorry,” she added, a tear starting to run down one of her cheeks again. She wiped it away with her hand. “I know it’s a bad time.”

  “I told you realms were real,” he said, his jaw setting.

  “I know,” she said looking down to the floor. She felt like a bad friend.

  “You didn’t believe me!” He stood up, looking down at her. She didn’t like that. She could see he was using desperation to vent this out at her. She stood up.

  “Because it sounded crazy!” she half shouted back at him, holding her own.

  She immediately regretted saying that. They stood there looking at each other in shock.

  “I was worried for you, Sam,” she added to try to placate the argument. She tried to reach out to touch him. He pulled back, ever so slightly, but she felt the snub. Tears started to stream down her face again.

  “You were right,” she said, trying to mend bridges. “I didn’t know how important it was to you.”

  “Yeah,” he said simply. She figured he was going to add ‘well I told you so,’ but, to give him credit, he didn’t. He slumped back down on the sofa. He sighed heavily and looked lost.

  “You don’t get it do you?” he said finally and looked up at her.

  “I do, Sam,” she replied softly. She sat down next to him and put her hand on his arm. He didn’t move away this time. “You lost your mom when you were little and now...” she paused for the briefest of moments, wondering how best to say this without making matters worse, “...its your dad.”

  He was surprised.

  “I get it, Sam,” she added. “My grandfather disappeared two years ago, and my adopted brother.”

  She stared back at him calmly. Bizarrely, she felt as though this exchange had been exactly what they had needed. He had finally expressed his frustrations and she had said what she had been holding back.

  His eyes softened.

>   “I’m sorry,” he said. “I mean, I knew. But you never really said.”

  “No, I know,” she said, looking down the hall past him. She briefly saw someone move from the aisles to the stairs. “It was rough.”

  “I really do understand about your dad,” she added. She squeezed his arm gently.

  “Thanks,” he said. His eyes started to sting, and he instinctively looked away.

  “If there’s anything I can do...”

  He nodded and paused for a little while. He was trying to keep his emotions in check.

  “Its okay, Sam,” she offered, not really sure if it would be or not.

  He nodded again and looked down for a moment. “You’re probably the only person I can talk to about this right now, you know.”

  “I get it,” she said. “But its hard to accept, you know?”

  “I know,” he replied looking at her. “It does sound crazy.” He smiled.

  “Yes,” she agreed, smiling back. She looked down at the book, which was now next to her.

  They each sat with their own thoughts for a few moments.

  “So…” Yas said, breaking the silence. “Knowing what you know about realms, what should I do?”

  “We need to find out what happened to McVale,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “You’ll help?” She looked at him in surprise.

  “Course,” he nodded. “We’ll help each other. Besides, I think the two are related.”

  “You think?”

  “Kidnappings in realms? Can’t be that many, I reckon?”

  “Okay? Why do you think that?”

  “We need a plan,” he said, not really listening to her question.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Well,” he said in thought, gesturing with his hand. “How did you say you got into the realm?”

  “It was one of these bookmarked pages,” replied Yas, opening the book and offering it to Sam. He took the other side and scanned the page.

  “Something on the page was the key?”

  “I think so,” she said, “I don’t know exactly what though.”

  She looked up to see if it had worked now, but nothing happened. She looked at Sam, hoping that perhaps he saw something instead, but she could see from his expression that he had not. She continued to flick through the book. “I tried other pages after I returned... but nothing. It seems the doorway is closed, like you said.”

  “Yeah,” said Sam. “Its as if the door locked when you closed the book. Or someone else holds the key.”

  “Wait,” said Yas, remembering. “Ms. McVale said that to me too. She gave me this,” and she reached inside her T-shirt and pulled the necklace off over her head. She held it out in her hand for him to see.

  Sam’s eyes widened. “Where did you get that?”

  “It was my grandpa’s, apparently. I don’t ever remember him having it though.”

  “Interesting,” Sam said, looking closely at the die hanging on the cord. He reached inside his T-shirt and took off his necklace. He held it out to show Yas.

  “This was my mom’s.”

  “No way!” Yas said, peering closer. The size and shape of Sam’s necklace was almost identical to hers. His was lighter in colour and the engravings were black. From what she could see, his had similar shapes on it also.

  “I have that on mine too,” she pointed at the museum symbol on his, and which McVale had remarked upon on hers.

  “Yeah,” said Sam. “I remember my dad telling me that different symbols help create doorways to different realms.”

  “Ok,” said Yas, thinking this through. “So maybe McVale also has a necklace and a symbol that helped open a door to Victorian London?”

  “Maybe,” Sam agreed tentatively. “Which could be why that doesn’t work for you now, and why I can’t get to the places that my dad used to show me? We don’t have the keys to those doors.”

  “Yes,” said Yas. It made sense so far. She looked at the museum symbol on her necklace again. “So, who could help us figure out a way to get back in?”

  “I think we need to talk to Vickers,” said Sam.

  “But you said she wouldn’t help? It might risk your dad’s cover?”

  “True,” nodded Sam, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. “But whose to say she won’t help find McVale?” He stood up.

  “Sneaky,” replied Yas, also standing up. “I hadn’t thought of that angle.”

  “Then maybe that might naturally lead to finding my dad?”

  Yas looked wide eyed at him. She just hoped that this wouldn’t turn out to be a bad idea.

  “You sure?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he replied. “Are you in?”

  “Yes,” she nodded, a little uncertainly at first. Then she smiled and tried to convince herself. “Yes!”

  “Let’s go then.”

  Sam retrieved the cart that he had brought up with him and pushed it along the hallway. Yas walked with him. She wondered what he was thinking.

  “What will we say?” she asked. Telling Sam, who she knew believed in realms was one thing, but telling an adult whom she didn’t know was another. She had visions of being told that she was insane and a bad influence on Sam in a time of need.

  “You said that McVale told you to find the other... Custodians of the libraries?”

  “Yes.” She paused for a moment, thinking back to the Great Oak and what McVale had said. “She thought they were in danger.”

  They reached the elevator, just the other side of the staircase. Sam pressed the call button.

  “I think that’s the angle to try with Vickers. History, mythology, symbolism. That’s the stuff that gets her all excited. At least from the conversations I’ve overheard between her and my dad.”

  The doors opened and they went inside with the cart. Sam pushed the ground floor button and they waited in silence.

  “So, what was your dad doing in the realms?” she asked, as the doors started to close.

  He hesitated. “He used to joke about it. ‘Keeping imagination free’,” he used to say. “I was never really sure what he meant.”

  That sounded familiar to Yas.

  “Like a guardian?”

  Sam looked at her in shock.

  “Where did you hear that?” he asked as the elevator descended.

  “McVale and a talking tree mentioned it.”

  “Oh,” said Sam. “I always thought it was some sort of secret, like being undercover.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said touching his arm. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  The elevator bell chimed to indicate that it had reached its destination. “Besides, its not something I’d heard before two days ago.”

  Sam smiled in relief. The doors opened and they exited. Sam pushed the cart over to its station, next to the large stone desk in the centre of the foyer. Yas walked with him. Ms. Vickers was there, but she was talking with a man that Yas recognised. His back was to them. Before Vickers or the man had time to spot Sam, she grabbed Sam by the sleeve and pulled him quickly into the first of the aisles behind them.

  “What are you doing?” asked Sam.

  “Ssh,” shushed Yas in reply. “I know that man. He was in the shop the other day.”

  “Okay?” replied Sam, not really seeing at all. “And?”

  “He’s big deal in the media world. Owns television and radio stations apparently.”

  “Yes,” Sam replied, straining to see him more clearly around the end of the aisle. “My dad’s not a fan of his.”

  “So, what’s he doing here?” she whispered. “Talking to Vickers?”

  “Maybe he’s looking for a book?” Sam said sarcastically.

  He smiled at Yas and she stared back, making him aware that she didn’t think it was funny.

  “Seriously,” she said, quietly. “Let’s try and listen in.”

  They stood hunched at the end of the aisle, out of sight, but as close as they could. Penn’s voice boomed. He wasn’t talking
loudly, but with there being few soft furnishings to soak up the sound in the large entrance hall, and the theatrical nature of his voice, they could hear pretty much everything.

  “I wanted to thank you for your insights,” Penn said.

  “No problem,” replied Vickers, nonchalantly.

  “Yes, comparing today’s world with the great libraries of the past...” Penn paused, “...was ingenious”.

  Yas and Sam looked at each other, their eyes widening.

  “Libraries?” Yas whispered.

  “You’re welcome,” Vickers replied to Penn.

  “It seems that you are quite the scholar?” Penn asked.

  There was a pause. Sam envisaged Vickers engaging Penn with a blank expression. He knew from experience that she was good at giving nothing away.

  “I’m currently working on a thesis, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Oh,” said Penn a little too theatrically. “Do tell.”

  “A brief history of libraries,” Vickers replied. “I’m researching why they were created, their influence and their demise.”

  “Curious,” replied Penn. “I would love the opportunity to hear more about your work.”

  “I’m not sure what else I can add,” replied Vickers. “Other than what I’ve already shared.”

  Penn paused for a moment. Yas wondered if that inane half smile was still present on his face. It was.

  “I especially find interesting how rulers have often brought about the downfall of repositories of knowledge,” continued Penn.

  “I’m not sure I follow?” asked Vickers.

  “Its my belief that making libraries private entities would enable them to prosper further?”

  “That sounds very familiar,” replied Vickers. “I’m sure I’ve heard that recently from the candidate you have sponsored for governor?”

  There was a pause. Yas and Sam found themselves leaning forwards, straining to hear.

  Penn laughed a little. “You’ve got me. I would love to hear your thoughts.”

  Vickers paused. Sam could imagine her scratching her chin and considering the question deeply. It appealed to the intellectual within her.

  “I’m not sure ancient libraries would have fared any better as independent organisations,” she said at last. “Many of the best-known private collections throughout history were also subject to control and destruction by despots.”