Curse of the Evil Librarian

by Michelle Knudsen

  “No,” he says finally. “The monsters do not go near the deepest prisoner level. The demons there will hurt them for sport if they can. He knows nothing.”

  “Oh,” I say, disappointed and not exactly cheered by the details included with that explanation. “Okay.”

  “I will kill him now,” LB says.

  “Wait, what? No!” I stare at him, appalled. “Didn’t you promise to let him go if he helped us?” I look at Peter. “Didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” LB says, casting a glance at Peter, who nods in agreement. “But only to make him help. We do not need him now.”

  “That’s — that’s not the point!”

  “That is . . .” He seems to remember my words from before. “That is how demon stuff works.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Well, that’s not how we work. Are you on this team with us? The team that’s going to go back and fight your brother?”

  “Yes,” LB says without hesitation.

  “Well, then you have to let him go. You made a promise.”

  “But . . . a promise is not a deal.”

  I feel a chill, hearing the same line that Mr. Gabriel spoke earlier coming out of his little brother’s mouth.

  “No,” I agree. “A promise is a promise. On this team, we honor our promises.” Well, except if evil demons force you to break them and make you kiss people you promised you would never kiss again. But I see no reason to bring that up. When LB still doesn’t move, I give him my best tech-director-chastising-lazy-minions glare. “LB? I’m waiting.”

  LB’s bug features manage to convey a very clear sense of confusion and reluctance and disbelief as he slowly turns and releases the bindings on the flower monster’s arms.

  The flower monster looks just as confused and disbelieving to be so released.

  “Tell him if he tries to hurt us in any way, or tells any other monsters where we are, then the promise is over and you totally will kill him after all,” I add hastily.

  LB growls this to the monster; or at least, he growls something, and I satisfy myself with hoping it’s a relatively close translation of what I said. The monster glances at me, then looks back at LB and growls a final incomprehensible word or two before taking off down the passage into the dark.

  “How did you avoid getting eaten by monsters until now?” I ask Annie and Ryan. “I’m not sure how we would have managed without LB.”

  “I think it’s this room,” said Annie. “We were trying to find somewhere good to hide, and we stumbled upon this place. Do you see all the markings on the walls and the floor? We thought maybe they could be protective symbols of some kind. To keep the monsters away.”

  Peter looks around with interest. “Huh,” he says, studying the nearest drawings. “Some of them definitely are. I wonder who . . . I guess maybe we’re not the first to sneak our way in here uninvited. And maybe you guys aren’t even the first non-demons.”

  “Some of them?” I ask. “What about the others?”

  “Not sure. I only recognize a few. The rest I could probably decipher, but that would take a little time. I think it’s best we try to stay away from them, just in case. Stepping across the boundary of the wrong kind of symbol could be the last mistake you ever get to make.”

  Ryan huffs unnecessarily loudly. “Uh, I think Annie and I managed to do okay all this time without your advice, thanks.”

  Peter turns to stare at him, and I feel the temperature in the room suddenly drop.

  “Guys,” Annie begins hesitantly.

  “What is your problem?” Peter demands, stepping closer to Ryan. “From the looks of things, you two just sat here comfortably, waiting for us to come rescue you. Do you have any idea what we were going through out there, looking for you?”

  “From what Cyn said, it sounds like you were mostly hiding in LB’s shadow, letting him fight the monsters for you. Because you’re not that kind of demon, right? The kind that can actually fight and protect people?”

  “You —”

  “And how did you manage to hook up with Cyn again so quickly?” Ryan goes on, talking over him. “Why were we the ones sitting here alone while you two were together? Did you have something to do with all of us getting separated in the first place?”

  “Hey!” I shout. “That was the prison, not Peter. I believe I already explained about that?”

  Ryan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but how do you know Peter didn’t know all about it? He knew what the prison was, knew enough to be afraid of coming here . . . not a big jump to think he might have known about how the boundary worked.”

  “Trust me,” Peter growls. “If I’d been able to orchestrate us getting separated, I damn well would have made sure you stayed lost.”

  “Oh, so you admit it?”

  “I’m not admitting anything! I’m just saying if you’re going to accuse me of treachery, then quit underestimating me. You have no idea what I’m capable of. But if you don’t start showing some manners, I think you’re going to find out.”

  “Stop it!” I shout, pushing my way between them. “Are you kidding me? Do you really think we have time for this kind of nonsense right now? How’s your arm, Ryan? Have you even been checking to see how much time is left before you die?”

  That shuts them up. We all glance involuntarily at Ryan’s arm. The red line disappears under his T-shirt sleeve. No way to tell how far it goes beyond that. My hand twitches, aching to pull up Ryan’s shirt to see, but I fight off the impulse. I’m not going to humiliate him in front of Peter. Not when he’s clearly so raw on the subject already.

  “Look. Let’s just get to this Craftsman demon and get what we need and get the hell out of here, okay?” The tugging has returned, more fiercely than ever; it’s almost like the demon-compass knows I’m ready to finally follow its guidance now.

  “Okay,” Ryan mutters, not looking at me.

  I whirl to look at Peter. When he doesn’t answer, I poke him in the ribs. “Ow! Okay!”

  “Okay!” Annie calls supportively from where she’s standing several steps away.

  I smile despite myself. “I wasn’t worried about you,” I tell her. “But thanks, anyway.”

  “Okay,” LB adds from the entranceway. He hasn’t moved since releasing the flower monster.

  “Great!” I say. “We’re all in agreement, then. Excellent. The unpleasant but helpful compass thing Mr. Gabriel gave me is telling me to go . . . there.”

  I point directly at one of the walls.

  Ryan looks at the wall, then walks over to peer at one of the side passages. “Well, we can’t walk through the wall,” he says. “So I guess —” He takes another step forward, trying to see out into the darkness.

  “Wait,” Peter says, grabbing for Ryan’s arm.

  Ryan shakes him off violently and pulls away, taking another step toward the passage. “Don’t you dare —”

  But whatever else he’s going to say is lost in a sudden rush of air and sound.

  The stone at the entrance to the passage is glowing a bright and frightening red.

  “I told you not all of those symbols were protective!” Peter shouts at him.

  A great wind seems to materialize from nowhere, knocking all of us over onto the ground. And then a bright, shining hole made of light opens in the wall and begins sucking everything toward it.

  Annie is closest. She shrieks as the force increases and suddenly she’s being dragged helplessly toward it.

  “No!” I scream.

  Ryan moves fastest. He grabs her hand just as her feet are sucked into the hole. She’s still shrieking.

  Peter, bless him, lunges forward and clamps a hand around Ryan’s ankle. The three of them are still sliding, though. Annie’s calves have disappeared into the hungry light.

  I throw myself forward and latch both hands around Peter’s calf. The hole seems to give a mighty tug and we all slide another few feet toward it. Annie’s pulled in to the waist now.

  “Cyn!” she screams, her face contorted by
fear.

  “Hold on!” Please. Oh, please.

  But the light keeps pulling and suddenly Ryan is panicking. “Annie, no! Hold on, I can’t —”

  And then with a final horrified scream she’s gone.

  We slide forward again, until I feel LB’s spider legs wrap tightly around my waist.

  Ryan is scraping at the ground, trying to find something to hold on to. I’m staring at the spot where Annie disappeared, unable to believe what just happened. We just found her. We just found her again and now —

  “Cyn,” Peter says urgently. He’s speaking loudly over the rushing of the wind, but he sounds calm. In control. “Listen to me. Are you listening?”

  “Annie —”

  “No, just listen. I can see what’s on the other side of that hole. It looks — well, it looks like your high school.”

  “What?”

  “It’s an ejection trap. I can see the design of it now. Something to send intruders back where they came from. It must be intended to prevent breakouts — there are probably more of them scattered throughout the prison. They’d eject anyone who didn’t belong and leave the prisoners behind. And since we came from the library, I mean originally, I think that’s where it’s leading to. So I think she’s okay.”

  Ryan slides another few feet forward, still failing to find anything to stop his progress.

  “I don’t think we’re going to be able to fight it,” Peter goes on. “I don’t think it’s going to close until we all go through.”

  “But we can’t! We have to stay here! We have to —” But at the same time my mind is screaming for Annie, not sure whether to trust that she’s really okay, that she’s really just back at school and totally fine. Even if it looks like high school, it might not be. It could be a trick. It could be anything. It could be someplace even more terrible than this.

  And wherever Annie is, she’s alone. We can’t just leave her there alone.

  “Listen!” Peter shouts. “I don’t think it wants LB. He was still in the entranceway when Ryan triggered the trap, and he didn’t come with us from the school anyway. If LB stays here, I think I can get us back. We have to go through, but I think, if he lets me, I can fix this. Eventually.”

  It’s very hard to think clearly while a giant hole in the wall of a demon prison is trying to suck you against your will back to your high-school library. If that’s even really where it’s leading. But I try. I twist around, trying to get a clear line of sight to LB’s face.

  “LB! Are you listening? Do you understand what Peter is saying?”

  After a pause, which makes me want to kick him, because can’t he see that we are in kind of a hurry right now?, he says, “I hear him, but I do not understand.”

  “That’s okay, big guy,” Peter says. “Just listen. You have to stay here. If you want us to be able to come back and fight with you against your brother, if you want Cyn to get to finish her errand and go with you, we need you to stay right here, in this room. Can you do that?”

  “Stay . . . ?” His gravelly voice sounds uncertain.

  “Yes,” Peter says. “I’m going to attach something to you. You’re going to be our anchor. As long as you’re here, I’ll be able to get us back. It might take us a little while to find a way, but then we’ll be able to come right back here. Okay? Can you do that?”

  LB seems to be trying to have thoughts, and there is simply no time for that right now. We’re still sliding onward toward the light.

  “LB,” I say in as patient and gentle a voice as I can while still talking loud enough to be heard in the wind tunnel. “Please. Please. I promise we’ll come back. I promise. It’s so important — you have to stay right here in this room and let Peter do what he needs to do. And then we’ll come back and finish this thing and go and kill the hell out of your big brother. Okay? Please?”

  There is another long pause in which Ryan and Peter try not to get sucked into the hole and I fight the urge to slam both of my feet into LB’s dim-witted beetle face.

  “Okay,” he says finally.

  “Great!” Peter says, almost before LB has finished getting the word out. “Hold still.”

  I catch a glimpse of demon energy flying past me, a kind of rope shape that fastens itself around LB’s foreleg and then disappears.

  “Okay,” Peter says. “Okay, LB, now let us go.”

  He does. The spider limbs unwrap themselves from around me and we go flying toward the hole of light. The last thing I see is LB’s face, watching us expressionlessly from the quickly receding dark.

  The comfortable reading chairs of the high-school library seem like alien constructions to me. I am lying on the carpet, staring at one, trying to make sense of it. What kind of material is that, anyway?

  And then everything floods back into my brain at once and I sit up, my heart pounding.

  Annie, Ryan, and Peter are sprawled around me, also in various stages of getting into a sitting position.

  “Annie? Are you —”

  “I’m okay,” she says. “I don’t understand anything that just happened, but I’m okay.”

  And then my eyes fall on Ryan, and in the bright fluorescent light of the library the line running from his palm is deep and red and awful. I can’t help it; I scramble across to him and pull up his shirt.

  “Cyn! What —”

  “Quiet.” It hasn’t reached his chest yet. I’d been braced to see it millimeters from his heart. But it’s still on his arm. Not quite halfway between his elbow and his shoulder. I trace my hand along it, wishing I could just make it go away. With all the monsters and everything, it was easy to lose sight of what the real danger is. This tiny red line, marching relentlessly toward my boyfriend’s horrible death.

  “Hey!” a voice says from behind us, sounding startled.

  The library monitor is there, staring wide-eyed at me holding Ryan’s shirt up with one hand and running my fingers along his skin with the other.

  “You — you can’t do that stuff in here. I’m — I have to —” He turns hastily around toward the desk and, I assume, Mrs. Davenforth.

  Peter is on his feet before I even have to ask him.

  “Hey, Leon, wasn’t it?” He puts his arm around the kid’s shoulders, and Leon turns to look at him with a suddenly entranced, nearly worshipful expression. “Listen, I need you to do me a really important favor . . .” They head off into one of the aisles between the shelves.

  Trusting Peter to smooth everything out, I turn my attention back to Ryan and Annie.

  “You guys are really okay? Really?”

  “Yes,” Annie says. “Are you? What the hell happened?”

  I tell her Peter’s ejection-trap theory. And fill her in on what happened after she got sucked through the hole before us. I also reluctantly allow Ryan to pull his shirt back down.

  Ryan shakes his head. “So . . . we’re really just back? At school?”

  “Looks like,” I tell him.

  “Do we even know what day it is?”

  “Tuesday,” Peter says, reemerging from the shelves. Leon practically skips off toward the circulation desk behind him, not a care in the world.

  I envy him so much.

  “Wait — like Tuesday? Like the day after we left?”

  “Yup. Tuesday morning. Just about time for homeroom.”

  Annie looks at Peter, and then at me and Ryan. “But we’re not . . . we can’t go to homeroom. Don’t we have to try to get back?”

  “Yes,” Peter says. “But to do that I need to figure out how to reopen that hole. Without the one-way vacuum action. Or with one-way vacuum action in the other direction, at least. And for that I need a little time.”

  “But —” Annie seems to be having an especially hard time with this. “But you don’t even have a homeroom. You don’t even go to our school.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “You’re not even really our age.”

  Peter raises an eyebrow at her and grins. “Well, I didn’t mean me, actually. I don’t have to
go to homeroom. I have to go do a little research. I’ll catch up with you guys at lunch.”

  I look at him. “So — are you suggesting we just go about our business in the meantime? Go to class, et cetera?”

  “I have a voice lesson today,” Ryan says quietly. He says it with amazement, like the very idea of a voice lesson is something completely outside of his current realm of understanding.

  “I think that’s best,” Peter says. “Until I can get us back. I mean, ideally, we’re going to get this all worked out and then you’ll all be returning to your lives and wanting to not be too far behind on classes and homework and whatever, right?”

  The rest of us mumble various words of agreement, but it all seems so weird. How are we supposed to care about school when Ryan is still approaching death-by-demon-curse and LB is (hopefully) waiting for us in the demon prison and Mr. Gabriel is waiting for us to bring him the thing he needs to make him fully strong and physically present again and then we somehow have to kill him before he can finish carrying out his evil plans?

  Annie gets to her feet. “I guess . . . I’m going to go find William.” We watch her walk toward the doors and out of sight.

  I glance at Peter. “Can you make it so no one notices that we’re all wearing the same clothes we wore yesterday? And that we’re all filthy?”

  “On it.”

  “Thanks.”

  We fall silent, and Peter seems to realize that this is his cue to leave. “Uh . . . yeah. I’m just going to go, uh . . . go. See you guys later?”

  He turns and jogs out without waiting for an answer.

  “This is so messed up,” I tell Ryan.

  “I know,” he says, putting his arms around me.

  I let myself relax into him, knowing it’s only for a moment, but relishing the temporary feeling of safety and comfort. I breathe in the smell of him, which a day without showering has only made more noticeable, in a way that totally works for him. I doubt I smell as good, especially since I was fighting monsters and stuff and — ugh — being smushed up against LB and everything he was coated with.

  “Oh, no, do I smell like demons? I do, don’t I?” I try to pull away from him but he tugs me back into place.