The Library: The Complete Series (All 8 Books) (2013)

by Amy Cross

  "They're real?" I ask.

  "Of course they are. Don't you remember? You met one the other day, when you were up on the roof of the world."

  "I don't remember exactly what happened," I tell him. "It's kind of vague."

  He stares at me. "Vague? You looked into the eyes of one of the most fearsome creatures of the seven worlds, and your memory of the event is vague? Most people would go insane if that happened to them, Claire. They'd lose their mind and end up shivering in the corner. But you seem fine, which makes me wonder..." He looks down at the floor. "One day, you're going to remember what happened up there. It's going to come back into your mind, and you're going to remember everything. And when that day comes, you're going to have to stay strong, because I'm pretty certain that the Forbidders are going to come back at you. They kill almost everyone they encounter. If they let you live, it's because they think there's something they can gain from you."

  I take a deep breath. There's something unnerving about Sharpe right now; he seems less carefree than usual, as if something dark is on his mind. "You know about them, don't you?" I say eventually. "Everyone's guessing what the Forbidders are, and what they really want, but you know something you're not telling anyone. That's right, isn't it?"

  He sighs. "If I know something, it's only because I was here when it all began. It was an accident, really. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I saw the very first Forbidder, and I knew immediately that he'd be trouble. I tried to put it out of my mind; I told myself that it'd be centuries before anything came of what happened that day. But centuries passed, and eventually the war started. I fooled myself into believing that it was just a coincidence. Eventually, though, I had to accept that the moment had come, and that's when I came to find you."

  "Me? What have I got to do with all of this?"

  "The Forbidders are looking for an old book, Claire. A very, very old book. They can't find it. No-one can find it, not at the moment. That's because it's been hidden away."

  I wait for him to continue. "Still," I say eventually, "I don't see where I fit into everything. I don't know where the book is." I pause for a moment. "Do I?"

  "Tell me what an old book looks like, Claire," he continues. "One that's been around for hundreds and hundreds of years. One that's been used, and read. Described it to me."

  "I suppose it's... old-looking."

  "Go on."

  "The pages are a little worn and tatty." I reach down and scratch the eczema on my wrist. "Some of them might even be missing, like gaps in the story. Probably really important pages, like the first one or the last, something like that."

  "Go on."

  I think about it for a moment. "The spine would be damaged," I say finally. "Maybe someone would've taped it up to make it stronger, so it wouldn't fall apart."

  "How's your back doing these days?" he asks. "Is it still hurting after all the walking we did through the Library?"

  "It's fine," I say, shrugging. "I don't know why you think I know about this book, though. I mean..." I stare at him. "Was it in my house?" I ask eventually. "We had a bunch of old books. They looked pretty gnarled up. I think my Dad was going to throw them out eventually, but... Is that where this book was hidden? In one of those old boxes?"

  "Not quite," he replies.

  "Then what?"

  "What would be the absolute best way to hide a book?" he asks. "You'd change it. You'd make it so it didn't even look like a book anymore, although some things would inevitably stay the same." He pauses for a moment. "I wasn't in your home by accident, Claire. I was sent to fetch something; I was sent to retrieve the first ever book, after it had been hidden there a long, long time ago. And I found it." He smiles. "I found you."

  I stare at him. "I'm not a book, Sharpe."

  "Yes," he replies. "You are. Or you were. A long time ago, before the Librarian had to hide you. He knew the Forbidders would destroy all seven worlds in their attempt to track you down, so he changed you and then he ran off with you. He knew that even once you were in human form, they'd still try to find you, so he went and hid you in a place where he thought you'd blend in perfectly. He hid you among a load of other humans. But he knew that one day, you'd have to come back and face the Forbidders, so he told one person the truth about where you were. He didn't tell any of the Elders, because he knew they'd be killed, and he didn't tell a warrior, because he knew they'd be too dumb to get the job done properly. Instead, he told someone insignificant. He told someone who'd be able to keep low and stay out of trouble; someone no-one would ever think could have been entrusted with something important. He told me."

  I pause for a moment. "Bullshit," I say eventually.

  "It's all true," he says. "The problem is, he didn't tell me what to do next. He just told me that when the right day came, I had to come and fetch you, and bring you back to the Citadel. I assumed the next step would be obvious, but so far it's as if we're supposed to just sit here and wait to die. The Forbidders are massing, and soon they'll be ready to tear this place down. I really don't see how it helps to have you here. I should have ignored what he told me to do; I should have let you stay in the human world. At least you were happy there, right? Well, I don't think you're going to be happy here. Not for much longer. Not when the Forbidders finally work out who, and what, you are."

  "I'm not a book," I say firmly. "I'm a person. I have a memory. I have a family. Don't you think my mother would have noticed if she'd given birth to a book?"

  "Your mother gave birth to a baby," he continues. "A little girl named Claire. She was beautiful, but she was sick. Your parents prayed every night by her crib, hoping she'd pull through."

  "And I did," I tell him. "They told me this story a hundred times. They prayed, and one day I was just... better. It was like a miracle."

  "Claire died," Sharpe replies. "One night, while your parents were sleeping, their baby died. She had an illness that meant her lungs weren't developing properly. But when she died, I was there, and I switched you. The next day, they found you in the crib, and you seemed so healthy. They never realized there'd been a switch. The only person who knew was your uncle."

  "My uncle?" I feel a shiver run through my body. As crazy as Sharpe's claims sound, I can't shake the feeling that maybe there's an element of truth to what he's saying. "My uncle was a librarian," I say. "He was a..."

  "He knew he had to stay close to you," Sharpe says, "so he took the body of your father's brother. He kept an eye on you, but eventually the world of the Library caught up with him. I don't know for certain, but it's my strong belief that the Forbidders located him and sent a gang of Squashers to kill him."

  "Squashers?"

  "Nasty little things. They like squashing people. As I understand it, your uncle was killed when some rolling shelves squashed him. Very neat, and quite appropriate in some ways. When I heard the news, I knew that I had to act first; I knew it was time, and that the Forbidders would soon be onto you."

  I shake my head. "None of this is true," I say eventually. "I was right originally, wasn't I? When I thought I was in a coma? I was right. This is insane. Look at me! I'm not a book!"

  "You know it's true," he replies. "Deep down, you can sense that everything I'm telling you is true. I don't know if you'll start to remember the old days. Probably not. But you can't dismiss what I'm saying, because there's a tiny part of you that can tell it's all completely true." He stands up and holds out a hand for me to shake. "And now it's time for me to go. I've done my job, and there's no need for me to be here any longer. I promised the Librarian that I'd get you to this point, and now it's up to other people to get you the rest of the way."

  "No way," I say. "Come on, you have to stay."

  "No. I was given very strict instructions to leave you alone once we'd reached this point. The Librarian obviously had a plan, although I've got no idea what that might have been. He was kind of manic toward the end of our time together. I think he was panicking about the Forbi
dders, because he knew he'd under-estimated them at first. But he seemed to have put all the pieces in place, so you've probably got a chance. Not a good chance, but a chance. And just as he told me I had to find you, he also told me it was important for me to leave you again. I've learned the hard way over the years that it's best to follow the Librarian's orders precisely, so..." He smiles. "Besides, I've got things to do. Can't hang around all day, looking after the likes of you. Vanguard's got you covered."

  "Still," I say, "I'd..." I take a deep breath. I want to tell Sharpe that he's talking nonsense; I want to tell him that he's deluded if he thinks I could be a book, and that all this talk of people being hidden and then brought back to the Library is part of some fevered dream he must have been having. There's something deep down, though, that keeps nagging at me, as if some long-dormant memory is fluttering to life. "I... Will you ever come back?"

  "Ever's a long time," he replies. "Best not speculate about things like that, but I know what the Librarian told me, and I've passed as much of it along to you as I dare. The rest is up to you and Vanguard."

  "Does he know? About me, I mean. Did you tell him?"

  "The Librarian didn't tell me to fill him in, so I kept quiet," he says. "As to whether you're supposed to tell him, I have no idea. The instructions given to me by the Librarian only covered us up to this point. I don't know what happens next, but I hope everything's going to be okay."

  "What about my journey home?" I ask. "I don't want to stay here. I want to go home."

  "You're already home," he says. "Like it or not, this is where you belong." With that, he turns and heads out the door, leaving me standing alone in the empty chamber. I look down at my trembling hands and try to imagine what it must have been like when I was a book. I try to think of my body as a bunch of pages, bound together under a cover, but it's just impossible to comprehend. I guess I'm still clinging to the hope that in some way, maybe Sharpe's story is wrong. Or maybe the story's right, but he got the wrong girl? Then again, it's pretty clear that the details match. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to accept that right now, I have no choice but to accept that there's at least a possibility of his claims being true. In that case, I need to decide what to do, because right now it seems that the Forbidders are willing to rip apart an entire world in order to get hold of one thing.

  Me.

  Except...

  It can't be true. I'm not a book. I just have to keep telling myself that over and over again. I'm not a book. I'm not a book. I'm not a book.

  Vanguard

  "Tell me exactly what happened when he came in here!" the Elder says, his face ashen as he stares at the empty box. "When the Librarian came down here all that time ago, what did he say?"

  "I wasn't paying attention," Caliko replies. "I tend to prefer ignoring people unless they make a direct request for my attention, so I just got on with my business. He seemed very panicked, though. I could hear him knocking things over and smashing into tables. Once he was finished, it took me quite a while to get the place straight again."

  "And you didn't think to mention this to anyone?" the Elder continues. "You didn't think to check to see if something was wrong?"

  "Something was always wrong with him," Caliko says. "If it wasn't one thing, it was another. You remember what he was like. Always losing things and bumping into things and forgetting things. To be honest, I'd have been more concerned if he hadn't been in a state. He seemed to be his usual self, and -" He pauses for a moment. "Actually, now I come to think of it, there was one slightly strange thing. He asked me if I had a cardboard box. I told him to look in the storeroom, and off he went. After that, I heard him hurrying back out the door, but I didn't even turn to look at him."

  "He must have known that the Forbidders wanted the book," the Elder says.

  "And he must have known that giving it to them would be a mistake," I point out. "Why else would he go to such great lengths in order to keep it from them?"

  "But then he turned and ran," the Elder says.

  "Did he?" I pause for a moment. "Or did he leave because he wanted to make sure they could never find the book? Perhaps even now he's out there, trying to keep one step ahead of them at all times?"

  "That would be madness," the Elder replies. "He must know he can't run from them forever. Besides, why would he not see reason and just hand the book over? Think of all the lives that could have been saved if only he'd seen sense. Think of all the pain and horror that could have been averted. It barely bears thinking about that he would make such a catastrophic mistake."

  "It wasn't a mistake," I say. "We might not understand his motives yet, but I'm quite certain he had a plan."

  "A plan that will destroy us all," the Elder says.

  "Do you still need me?" Caliko asks. "I was in the middle of cataloging some old slides, and I'd like to get back to my work. I'm almost halfway through; another five hundred years and I should have it done."

  Without answering him, the Elder turns and hurries away. He clearly doesn't trust the Librarian; to him, the Librarian's decision to run away with the book is almost an act of treason, whereas I trust the Librarian with my life. Whatever happened all those years ago, I'm certain he had a very good reason for acting like this. The only question is whether there's any way we can stall the Forbidders and save the Library; the alternative would be to accept that the destruction of this entire land is in some way preferable to a situation in which the Forbidders get hold of the first book.

  "I suppose you'll let me know if I'm needed," Caliko says, turning and lumbering back along one of the tunnels. "If no-one's been down in a couple of centuries, I might pop up and see what's going on. I should probably be more involved in the life of the Citadel." He continues muttering to himself as he gets further and further away; eventually, I'm left standing alone, staring at the empty box that once held the first book. It's hard to believe that such a simple thing could be the cause of so much bloodshed, but the Librarian clearly felt that the first book held too much power to be simply left for the Forbidders to claim. I can't help thinking that their emissary is being disingenuous when he claims that the book holds no intrinsic power.

  Making my way back to the Great Hall, I find the Elder and the emissary locked in a heated, though hushed, discussion over by the window. At first, they don't notice my arrival, and I loiter by the doorway for a moment, keen to hear their conversation. After a moment, however, the emissary glances over at me and smiles, and I realize that my attempt to eavesdrop has been unsuccessful. Still, it appears that the Elder and the emissary have some kind of understanding, and I'm suddenly forced to consider the possibility that Elder Reith perhaps can't be entirely trusted.

  "Vanguard!" the Elder says, smiling as if he's pleased to see me. "I've just been explaining the situation to the emissary, and he has proven to be most understanding."

  "It seems you have mislaid the book," the emissary says. "In normal circumstances, I would be rather suspicious of such a story. After all, it seems rather convenient. However, I am going to be generous and accept that the tale is true. I can't imagine what might have caused the Librarian to act in such a cavalier manner, but I'm certain we can all work together to resolve the problem. My masters still want the book, so I am going to advise them to a wait a little while longer. The Citadel will remain safe for another week, while you make arrangements for the return of the item in question -"

  "A week?" I say, shocked by such a proposal. "A week is barely enough time to leave the Citadel."

  "I have it on good authority that the Librarian has not ventured far from this place," the emissary replies. "In fact, my masters had the Citadel under observation for quite some time before they made their presence known. From what I've been told, the Librarian never left, despite repeated claims to the contrary. I'm quite sure you'll be able to find him, if you work hard enough, and hopefully you'll then be able to get the book back. After all, if he is still here, then the book must also be somewhere close." />
  "And if we choose not to do as you ask?" I say, suspicious of his motives.

  "We will!" the Elder says. "Ignore Vanguard. He's a warrior; he doesn't understand that there can be much better ways to resolve a problem. I can assure your masters that we will turn the Citadel upside down in our search for the Librarian, and we will find that book."

  "Within a week?" the emissary asks.

  "Within a week," the Elder replies obsequiously, glancing over at me as if he's terrified that I might contradict him.

  "Excellent," the emissary replies. "I shall report to my masters that a deal has been struck, and that the book will be in their hands soon. They will hold off from attacking the Citadel for one week, but I must warn you there will be consequences if this deal is broken. My masters tend not to look favorably upon anyone who tries to deceive them."

  "No-one is trying to deceive anyone," the Elder says quickly. "I think we all understand one another very well."

  "Perhaps," the emissary says, walking quickly toward the exit. "I'll be back in a week. I hope I won't be disappointed."

  "Are you serious?" I say, walking over to the Elder. "You're going to risk the future of the entire land?"

  "What choice do I have?" he replies. "If we don't give them what they want, they'll attack us and the entire Library will be destroyed. At least this way, there's a chance that they'll turn and leave. After all, they only want the book. Who are we to be concerned about a single book? We have plenty of others."

  "And you accept his claim that this book has no real power?" I ask.

  "Why would he lie?" the Elder asks. "What reason would he have? If the Forbidders merely wanted to kill us, they'd have attacked the Citadel long ago. They'd have torn down the walls and ripped us all to pieces. They're not just after destruction for its own sake, Vanguard. They're here for something specific, and we can give it to them. Why would they spend more time here if they've got what they want?"