The Forbidden Library

by Django Wexler

  “Can’t have been lost for too long,” said Sah-To. “He’s plenty plump.” He leaned closer.

  “Careful,” said Mah-Li. “He has a little magic.”

  “Even better. It adds to the flavor.” Sah-To straightened up. “You don’t think he’s a Reader, do you?”

  “If he is, he’s a pretty feeble one,” Mah-Li said.

  “Fair enough. Let’s get him out of that nasty coat.”

  Isaac jerked, but Sah-To held his arms securely. Mah-Li pulled his trench coat down from his shoulders with thin, delicate fingers.

  “There’s another one too,” Sah-To said. “She ran away, but she can’t have gotten far. I’ll track her down when we’re done with this one.”

  “Better and better,” Mah-Li said. “You hear that, Van-Si? We’re going to have a feast.”

  The little creature hissed his approval. Alice blinked away the swarmer’s vision and got up from the woodpile, absently brushing dirt from her knees.

  Now what? She could send the swarmers at the three of them. But the problem was Isaac—they already had him in hand, and it would be easy for them to hurt him before the swarmers could accomplish anything.

  If I could start a fire, they might come running out . . . But she hadn’t brought matches, and the cottage was mostly made of stone. And it would take too long. She was already taking too long, they could already be tearing him to pieces.

  There was only one thing that would distract them from their meal, she realized. Alice looked down at her hands and was pleased to find them shaking only slightly. No percentage in hanging about.

  All three of the creatures were visible from the doorway. Mah-Li, the green one, had gotten Isaac’s coat off and was sniffing it with distaste, but to Alice’s relief they didn’t seem to have hurt him yet. Little Van-Si worried at one of his boots, carefully undoing the laces. When he noticed Alice, his spiny mane bristled, and he let out a warning hiss.

  “The other human!” Mah-Li said, big eyes going wider. “Fascinating.”

  “I thought you said she ran away,” Sah-To said.

  “I thought she had.”

  “Alice,” Isaac said. His face was tight with pain; Mah-Li was bending his arm behind him at an awkward angle. “What are you doing?”

  “Please.” Alice tried to put a pleading, sobbing note into her voice. It was not something that came naturally to her, but she hoped the three creatures would not be familiar enough with human mannerisms to notice. “Please let him go.”

  “Let him go?” Mah-Li said, sounding genuinely puzzled. “Whatever for?”

  “They’re not going to listen, Alice!” Isaac said, then doubled over as Mah-Li twisted his arm even further. The green-skinned creature pushed him forward to sprawl on the floor and took a step toward Alice.

  “Take me instead,” Alice said. “You don’t need both of us, surely. Let him go.”

  Mah-Li flowed toward her, another step, like someone trying to approach a wild animal without startling it. Alice forced herself to look directly in his huge green eyes, ignoring the needle-filled mouth and the licking, snaky tongue.

  “I suppose,” Mah-Li said, “we could make do with one human for tonight—”

  He leaped forward, fast as a cobra, and grabbed Alice by both shoulders. For all their thin dexterity, his fingers were inhumanly strong.

  “— and save the other one for tomorrow.” His horribly broad mouth curved up into a toothy grin.

  Alice kicked him in the stomach. It wasn’t a very good kick, since she was at an awkward angle, but it was unexpected enough that it connected, and the breath went out of Mah-Li with a woof. If she had been expecting it to get her out of the creature’s grip, however, Alice would have been disappointed, as Mah-Li’s fingers only tightened painfully on her shoulders.

  Fortunately, this was not what Alice had been expecting, though she tried to jerk backward as though it had been. At the same time, she tightened her grip on the Swarm thread, pulling it inward—not toward the world, to call the swarmers into being, but inside herself.

  Mah-Li gave an angry, hissing shriek. He pulled Alice toward him and closed his needle-filled jaw around her throat. Distantly, Alice heard Isaac shout her name. Mah-Li tried to bite down—

  —and stopped. Alice could feel the pressure of his jaws. But the Swarm thread coiled inside her had changed Alice’s flesh to the same rubbery consistency as the swarmers themselves, and Mah-Li’s teeth could only dimple the surface of her skin, like a dog trying to bite down on a rubber ball. Alice twisted, and then came free with a sharp ping as several needle-teeth snapped. Mah-Li screeched in pain, clutching at his mouth and staggering backward.

  “Isaac, now!” Alice shouted.

  She pulled the Swarm thread back the other way, toward the world, and swarmers materialized by the dozen all around her. There were too many to control carefully, but the swarmers had instincts of their own, and once she’d set them to work, they went at it with a will. They nipped and slashed at Mah-Li and Sah-To with their beaks. Little Vin-Si tried to make a grab for Alice herself, but one of the swarmers put itself underfoot, and he slipped and tumbled as though he’d stepped on a tennis ball.

  Isaac was on his feet too, and shards of ice flashed through the air on a blast of freezing wind. Mah-Li groped toward him, spines stiff and arms flailing, and Alice attacked his shins with a dozen swarmers. Their beaks left long, shallow cuts that oozed dark red.

  “Out the door!” Alice shouted, and saw Isaac nod. She started herding the three creatures with her swarmers, even as Isaac blinded them with ice and pushed them backward. In a few moments the monsters were pushed toward the door, feet sliding on the ice-slicked floor. Isaac frowned, cheeks white with strain, and the indoor blizzard redoubled, the wind shrieking like a chorus of madmen.

  All at once Vin-Si, holding on to the doorway with one hand, let go and tumbled out into the yard. Sah-To followed, and finally Mah-Li, his broad grin frozen into a rictus of pain, staggered back through the doorway. Isaac pushed the ice storm after them, and in the moonlight Alice could see the three figures loping away as fast as their legs could carry them. She let the swarmers vanish and stumbled to the door, slamming it closed and shoving the iron bolt into place. Isaac lowered his hands, and the wind died away. The little cottage went silent.

  “Are you all right?” Alice said.

  Isaac nodded, breathing hard. “You?”

  “I think so.” Alice ran a hand along her neck. She found half a tooth dangling from where it had cut shallowly into her skin, and tossed it aside with a shudder. “Just a few scratches.”

  There was another pause.

  “You are the stupidest—” Alice and Isaac both began, almost simultaneously. Then, catching each other’s expression, they both stopped, and equally simultaneously began laughing. Isaac doubled over, hands on his knees, while Alice leaned back against the door and shook with slightly hysterical giggles.

  “Do you want to go first?” she said, when they’d calmed down a little.

  Isaac took a deep breath, leaning against the table. “I thought he was going to tear your throat out.”

  “I was a little worried about that myself,” Alice said. “I’d never tried using the Swarm like that before.”

  “You were planning on that? Your plan was to walk in here and get one of them to bite you?”

  “More or less.” It didn’t sound like such a great idea, now that Isaac said it out loud. “I didn’t have a lot of time to come up with it. What were you thinking when you told me to run? I thought you were coming too.”

  “I have no idea,” Isaac said. “I just . . . I really don’t know.” He shook his head. “Thanks for not running too far.”

  “Well. I still needed your help. And you saved me from Mr. Black.” Alice paused as something occurred to her. “Why didn’t you use that . . . song when they gr
abbed you?”

  Isaac sighed. “She’s called the Siren. She can put people into a trance, and eventually to sleep, but it takes a little while to have an effect.” His hand went to his trouser pocket and patted it to make sure something was still there. “It also takes a lot of energy. I’m not sure I could have gotten all three of them at once.”

  Alice nodded. Now that the hysterical relief was wearing off, she was realizing that their position was still precarious. The stone cottage didn’t have any windows, and the door looked sturdy enough, but Mah-Li and Sah-To might have stopped running by now and come back to wait for her and Isaac to emerge. She glanced nervously at the door, then over at the big chest.

  Isaac followed her gaze. “It’s in there, if it’s anywhere. Let’s have a look.”

  The chest had a padlock, a huge, ancient-looking thing with a big old-fashioned keyhole. Isaac gave it an experimental tug and found it secure.

  “Ending didn’t mention this,” he said. “Did she tell you about some kind of key?”

  “No,” Alice said. She knelt to examine the lock more closely, trying to see inside the keyhole. “You’d think she would have—”

  As she took the lock in her hand, there was a click. Surprised, Alice let it fall, and it popped open. Isaac laughed.

  “Apparently she gave you the key,” he said, pulling the lock free and setting it aside.

  “Apparently,” Alice said, frowning.

  Isaac lifted the lid. In the padded interior of the chest, looking ridiculously small, was a slim, weathered book bound in something like snakeskin. The title was picked out in gilt on the cover: The Dragon.

  It was hard to imagine that this little thing was at the root of so much trouble.

  She reached for the book at the same time as Isaac, and their fingers touched. He looked up at her and laughed, a little nervously.

  “We’re taking it back to Ending together, aren’t we?” Alice said.

  He nodded.

  “Then you hold on to it for now.”

  An emotion she couldn’t identify flickered briefly across his face, but he nodded. He brought the book over to the table, and he retrieved his battered coat from where Mah-Li had dropped it. It had acquired a few more rips, but Isaac seemed not to mind. He shrugged it on and tucked the book into an inner pocket.

  “Okay,” Alice said. “Now we just have to get out of here.”

  =

  In the event, that turned out to be easier than Alice had worried. If the three creatures were still nearby, they were keeping their heads down, and no one emerged to challenge Alice and Isaac as they cautiously opened the cottage door and made a dash for the switchback path. The moon was still high, and they ran down the path together in a mad rush, skipping over rocks and jumping ruts in the dirt. When they stumbled to a halt at the bottom in a cloud of dust, it took Alice a moment to get her bearings, but she soon found the silhouette of the pedestal and pointed the way.

  The portal-book was just where they’d left it. Alice held out her hand wordlessly, and Isaac took it. He flipped the cover open, and the letters did their now-familiar crawl into legibility. Alice’s eyes went wide as she read:

  Alice looked up from the book into the bearded, grinning face of Mr. Black. She tried to shout a warning . . .

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THE SECOND TRIAL

  ALICE LOOKED UP FROM the book into the bearded, grinning face of Mr. Black. She tried to shout a warning, but one huge hand was already on her arm, and the other was around Isaac’s wrist. Alice jerked backward, reaching out automatically for the Swarm thread, ready to call a dozen of the sharp-beaked little terrors into being . . .

  “Now, children,” said Geryon. “Let’s not make a scene.”

  Alice froze. Isaac did too, though in his case it seemed to be from sheer terror. He had the wide-eyed look of a rabbit trying to stare down a pair of headlights. Geryon stepped out from behind Mr. Black, hands in the pockets of his tatty old jacket, tutting like a disappointed tutor.

  “I believe you can release our Alice, Mr. Black,” Geryon said.

  Reluctantly, Mr. Black let go of her, circling around to loom behind Isaac. Alice rubbed her arm—it ached where he’d grabbed her—and said, “Master. Sir. This isn’t—”

  “Do you have the book?”

  “Wait. Listen,” Alice said. She felt like she had this one moment to make him understand, before he made up his mind. She searched desperately for the words that would do it, but her mind felt blank and sluggish. A sob welled up from her chest, and she pushed down hard. “I can explain—”

  “Do you have the Dragon?” Geryon said, and this time there was steel in his voice.

  “No,” Alice said. “He does.”

  “I see.” Geryon nodded to Mr. Black, who patted Isaac’s pockets until he found the book. He extracted it carefully and handed it to the old Reader, who put it under his arm without even glancing at the cover. “And you, boy. What’s your name?”

  Isaac set his jaw, in spite of the fear Alice could still see in his eyes. He said nothing.

  “He’s Isaac,” Alice said. “And he was helping me. We—”

  “Quiet, my dear,” Geryon said. “If I want something from you, I’ll ask.”

  “But—”

  “I said quiet.” Geryon glanced briefly in her direction, and something invisible slashed across the space between them.

  Alice’s jaw locked, clenching so tight, her teeth hurt, and she dropped to her knees, tears coming to her eyes.

  Geryon, turning back to Isaac, said, “And whose pawn are you, young Isaac? You don’t look like one of Grigori’s. The Eddicant, perhaps? Gabriel?”

  Isaac shook his head, lips pressed together. Geryon sighed.

  “You must tell me, you know. How else am I to open negotiations with your master for your safe return? Assuming he wants you back, of course.” Geryon bent slightly to look Isaac in the eye. “Come on, boy. Make it easy on yourself.”

  Isaac looked away, twisting in Mr. Black’s grasp. Geryon chuckled.

  “As you like,” the old Reader said. “Mr. Black?”

  Mr. Black did something to Isaac’s arm, and Isaac screamed. Alice screamed too, or tried to, though it only came out as a muffled grunt. She pounded her fists on the grass and struggled to get back to her feet.

  “Well?” Geryon said. “Are you going to make poor Alice watch such an unseemly affair?”

  He gestured, and Mr. Black let Isaac go. He stumbled forward a step, pale and shivering, one arm cradled in the other.

  “Anaxomander,” he said, so low, it was almost inaudible. “My master is . . . Anaxomander.”

  “Oh dear,” Geryon said. “My old friend, thieving from me in such a shameful fashion.” He shook his head sadly. “What faithless times we live in. Mr. Black, take this young man to the vault and see that he’s looked after.” He turned to Alice. “As for you, my dear, you must be exhausted. I think you should get some sleep.”

  Alice gave another muffled shout. She’d caught sight of two yellow gleams in the shadows behind Geryon: Ending’s feline eyes, glowing in the lamplight. She tried to point to them, but blackness slid down around her like a curtain. She felt her legs turn wobbly, and she toppled, but she was asleep before she hit the ground.

  “Alice. Alice, wake up.”

  Alice opened her eyes, the morning light from her window chasing away mad fragments of dream. It was hard to breathe, like there was a weight on her chest, but this turned out to be because Ashes was sitting on her. He had his head held up, Sphinx-like, front paws idly kneading her blanket.

  “Ashes?” she said blearily.

  “Your powers of perception are, as always, acute,” the cat said. “How do you feel?”

  “Fuzzy,” Alice said, though she found that her head was clearing rapidly. The events of last night came back t
o her in a rush, and she sucked in a deep breath. “Where’s Isaac?”

  “Under guard in Geryon’s vault, I would imagine. Mother sends her apologies.”

  “Her apologies?” Alice sat up, forcing Ashes to spring to the floor, where he walked in a tight circle and began licking his paw in an offended manner. “They were waiting for us, and she was there! She must have led them right to us!”

  “Apparently Mr. Black went to Master Geryon and warned him a thief had entered the library, and he compelled Mother’s assistance. Her contract binds her to obey him, if he issues a direct command.” Ashes looked as though admitting this lack of omnipotence on Ending’s part pained him severely. “They were able to follow your progress and wait for you to emerge from the book.”

  “Wait until Geryon hears what that rat Mr. Black has been up to,” Alice said, throwing off the sheets. “I’m going to—”

  “Mother asked me to remind you,” Ashes interrupted, “that if you accuse Mr. Black, Vespidian will undoubtedly flee, and we will lose any chance we might have left to interrogate him.” His tail lashed. “Also, as it would be your word against his, there is no guarantee that Master Geryon would believe you.”

  Alice chewed her lip. While the cat had a point, the idea of just letting Mr. Black get away with his treachery rankled. He was the one who told Vespidian about me in the first place!

  “All right,” she said reluctantly. “But what am I supposed to do now? Geryon has the book, and I can’t steal it from him.” The very idea sent a shiver down her spine. Quite apart from whatever safeguards the old Reader had in place, stealing from him would be a rebellion against authority on a scale Alice wasn’t prepared to accept. “And what about Isaac?” She hesitated. “Do you think he’s really . . . what Geryon said? A thief who came to steal the book for himself?”

  Ashes yawned, indicating disinterest. Alice shook her head.

  “I don’t believe it,” she said. “If that was what he wanted, he wouldn’t have . . . helped me. We can’t just let Geryon keep him locked up.”