by SJB Gilmour
Absently, she cast her thoughts in-wards and saw that same misty wall around her own mind. It was part of her – she could feel herself looking at it, probing it. She realised then that she could recognise this sensation again if someone should try to read her mind.
It’s a start, Oliver’s voice echoed in her mind. Then he was silent.
This brought Sarah up short and she snapped back to her surroundings. She realised they had all come to a halt at the foot of another stone staircase. This one led down into a dark, long corridor.
‘Sorry,’ she murmured to the group, most of which were looking at her with surprise. ‘I was off with the faeries.’
‘Don’t talk to me about faeries,’ James grumbled. ‘Mary’s been asking for a raise! Damned cheek!’
Angela smiled. ‘Shush, cousin. Whatever you pay her to put up with you isn’t enough.’ She turned to Oliver. ‘Is your library down there?’ She pointed down the dusty stairs.
Oliver grinned. ‘Nope, that’s just where I keep my elevator,’ he replied with aplomb and waved around at the surrounding buildings. ‘This place wasn’t designed with elevators in mind so I had to put it down in the dungeon.’
‘Sounds like a good place for it,’ Mel muttered, peering down the staircase.
Sarah also peered down. An unpleasant rustling sound echoed faintly up the stone stairs.
‘Rats?’ she asked. ‘I hate rats.’
‘Well I don’t,’ growled Benjamin. He licked his chops hungrily. He then shouldered past the group and padded down the stairs eagerly, followed closely by Robert and Roberta.
The group waited for a few minutes then Oliver, grinning, led them down the stairs. The stairwell was dark and dusty. Cobwebs hung from every corner and the air smelled vaguely of something long dead. Sarah instinctively shrank from the opposing walls as she descended.
Oliver saw her expression. ‘I don’t really need to use elevators much, so I keep it down here, out of the way. The library’s a long way off.’
They reached the bottom of the stairs. There, Sarah saw a long hall with a low ceiling. Several empty cells with iron gates and bars were on either side. At the end of the hall, the ceiling rose several metres into a larger room that was somehow even more oppressive. On the walls, ancient iron chains hung idly and stone walls were covered in dark stains. The whole room stank of old dried blood and worse. The room was almost pitch-black. Oliver clicked his fingers and several torches attached to the walls burst into flame. They seemed to give off equal amounts of light and black smoke.
Robert, Roberta and Benjamin padded out of one of the cells. Their breath was heavy with the scent of their kills. Oliver grinned at them tightly.
‘If you’re ever looking for a new job, McConnell, you’d make an excellent exterminator.’
‘I already am,’ Benjamin replied, deadpan. His silvery grey eyes gleamed in the torchlight.
Oliver swallowed then, the first sign Sarah had seen in the man that he had any sense of fear whatsoever. He walked to an empty cell and kicked the filthy iron door. It swung open with a loud, ominous creak. There before them, was a shining enchanted elevator.
Oliver pressed the button and waited. Moments later, the elevator gave a light ping and the doors slid open.
‘What do you want?’ it demanded rudely. ‘Can’t you see I’m busy?’
Oliver grinned wickedly and withdrew a small glass vial from within his robe. He held it up so everyone could see it. It was filled with a silvery liquid. He faced the elevator’s main panel.
‘Know what this is?’ he threatened. Without waiting for the elevator to answer, he demanded, ‘Do you know what mercury does to silver?’
The elevator shuddered. ‘Sorry, Master Cromwell,’ it apologised contritely. ‘Where would you like to go, Sir?’
‘Library, thank-you,’ Oliver replied shortly. Over his shoulder, he smirked apologetically to the group. ‘It’s a great elevator,’ he said depreciatingly, ‘but it’s terribly grumpy.’
The elevator gave a short lurch and the doors slid shut. Within moments, it stopped humming and came to an abrupt halt. The doors slid open again revealing a huge hall the size of a basketball stadium. Literally hundreds of rows of ceiling-high shelves were groaning with millions of muttering tomes and scrolls.
‘Probably best if you’re all human for this,’ Oliver advised. ‘Mummies aren’t too bright. They’re likely to mistake you for dogs, and well, since dogs love bones, mummies don’t like dogs.’
The werewolves all resumed their human forms. Nathan wriggled out of the elevator, his eyes whirling so excitedly Sarah thought he was going to have some sort of fit.
‘Oh my,’ he murmured again and again.
They followed the excited bookwyrm out of the elevator, which slid shut politely. Oliver led them through row after row of neatly stacked books until he came to a reception desk that was every bit as filthy as the dungeon.
Behind the desk was perhaps the most gross-looking creature Sarah had yet laid eyes on. The mummy was a corpse of a person – she couldn’t tell its gender, which looked as though it had been dead for several years. Its body was dried bones and shrivelled bits of blackened skin and flesh, all held together by hundreds of filthy, mouldy bandages. Living eyes rolled painfully in otherwise empty sockets and an awful stench of rotting flesh permeated the air around it.
Angela wrinkled her nose. ‘Why mummies?’ she asked Cromwell as she observed the filthy creature.
Oliver shrugged. ‘They’re better than golems,’ he replied. ‘They don’t last as long, but they’re cheaper and believe it or not, they’re easier to train. I’ve created enough golems in my time to know not to leave them un-supervised.’ He made a disgusted sound. ‘Mummies might be slow learners, but at least they can comprehend the Dewey system. As simple as it is, it’s beyond most golems.’
‘I’ve always had good results with bookwyrms, myself,’ Benjamin remarked.
Oliver nodded. ‘I tried one once,’ he nodded at Nathan. ‘I believe he was your cousin, Neil.’
Nathan nodded sadly. ‘Yes, poor Neil,’ he lamented. ‘Who’d have thought it?’
‘Thought what?’ Sarah wanted to know.
Oliver shrugged. ‘He was a great archivist, when he was sober. Damned fool consumed my entire food and wine section. Sent him to an early grave. After that, I found archivists who don’t need feeding. Like Muhammad here.’ He stepped up to the foul creature. ‘Hello Muhammad,’ he said politely in ancient Greek. ‘How have you been?’
Hearing the strange language, Sarah suddenly realised she could understand it. In moments, a flood of knowledge from the depths of Wolfenvald filled her mind. The rush of suddenly learning a new language made her slightly dizzy. She put one hand on the counter to steady herself. Then she remembered some of the words Angela had used a few weeks before when she had been angry with Uncle Benjamin. Now that she could understand them, she blushed.
Muhammad gave a lurch and stumbled to his feet shakily. He gave a long, hollow moan and glared at Oliver. He seemed about to respond with something quite menacing when his red-veined eyes saw Nathan. He stumbled backwards in fright, tripping over his own chair. Pieces of bandage and bits of flesh fell everywhere as the terrified mummy scrambled about on the floor, desperately trying to get away from the giant purple bookwyrm.
‘Oh yeah,’ Oliver said, smacking his forehead. ‘I forgot. Worms are a mummy’s worst nightmare.’
Sarah had recovered from her dizziness and forced herself to keep from laughing. Most of the others didn’t quite succeed. While they all laughed, Nathan was most surprised.
‘I say!’ he exclaimed in English. ‘This is one for the tomes! I don’t think anything’s ever been afraid of me before!’ He turned to Benjamin. ‘It feels very strange, Master McConnell, Sir! I’m not sure this is very natural at all!’
While the others laughed even harder, Sarah bravely stepped around the counter. Ignoring the horrible smell, she helped the shaky mummy to his fe
et.
‘It’s alright,’ she told the frightened animated corpse in the same ancient Greek language. ‘He won’t hurt you!’
Muhammad sat down, shaking very hard, scattering even more bits of himself onto the counter, chair and floor.
‘What?’ he rasped. ‘What do you want? Keep that thing away from me!’
Oliver grinned maliciously and leaned over the counter. ‘Now, Muhammad, I want you and the others to help my guests find the tomes they want.’
Sensing he might have an advantage, Muhammad glared at Oliver, forgetting all about Nathan. ‘What if I don’t?’ he demanded menacingly.
Oliver turned and bowed his head towards Nathan. ‘Then I let this great big fellow here make a meal out of you, worm fodder!’
‘But Master Cromwell Sir!’ Nathan began to protest.
James nudged the giant bookwyrm. ‘Quiet, you!’ he ordered in English. ‘You’ve got the upper hand! If you let on that you’re a vegetarian, then we’ll never get any help out him!’
‘But Master Isaacs, Sir!’ Nathan quavered. ‘I haven’t got any hands!’
‘Shut up!’ Angela hissed.
Though she couldn’t understand Muhammad, his reaction had Melanie in hysterics. She bent over with one hand over her mouth. Tears of laughter poured down her face and her nose began to run she was laughing so hard. Even Sarah had to turn away until she got her laughter under control. Resisting the urge to shudder, she put one hand on Muhammad’s shoulder to calm the shaking mummy.
‘Careful,’ she said as calmly as she could. ‘You’ll shake yourself to bits! We’re not here to hurt you, we just want to look a few things up, and that’s all.’ She nodded to the others to get their show of support. Those who could understand what Sarah had said smiled in agreement. Mel didn’t speak the language, but she had a very good idea what Sarah had been saying and also smiled at the putrid mummy.
Nathan was so eager to show his enthusiasm for her idea and bobbed his head up and down anxiously. Unfortunately, Muhammad took this completely the wrong way and gave a strangled wail. He lurched to his feet and shambled away into the stacks of shelves and tomes, shrieking in horror.
Sarah stared after the fleeing mummy. ‘Great,’ she muttered and turned to Master Cromwell. ‘Now what?’
‘She’s not that bright is she?’ Oliver observed to James nastily. Then he turned back to Sarah. ‘It’s a library like any other. I’m sure Nathan here can find his way around.’
Sarah flushed, while Nathan bobbed his head up and down enthusiastically.
‘If Muhammad, Ahab or Ishmael bother you,’ Oliver continued, ‘just stick by your bookwyrm and everything will be fine.’
Benjamin walked around to the counter. He wiped it clean of the bits of mummy that Muhammad had shed and sat down. He rummaged around until he found a pencil and a notebook and began scribbling down the titles of some of the tomes he was keen to find.
When he had finished, he handed the list to Oliver. ‘Have you got any of these?’
Oliver read the list carefully. ‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘I think I’ve got most of them. The Complete Prophecy Almanac, The Dragonical, I Prophet by Amizov, Medusa’s Oracular—’
Angela beamed at Benjamin. ‘Oh, good idea,’ she congratulated him. ‘I’d forgotten about her tome.’
Benjamin nodded. ‘It was from her artistic days. She had all sorts of grand ideas about being some great author. It took ages for her to realise that not many people would want to read anything penned by a gorgon.’
‘Medusa?’ Sarah interrupted. ‘Was she real?’
‘Oh yes,’ Angela told her with a disapproving frown. ‘But not was. Is. She’s still alive.’
Sarah got the impression Angela wasn’t too fond of Medusa for some reason. She looked at Uncle Benjamin enquiringly.
Benjamin grinned, his eyes glistening with mischief. ‘Well, she did fool the Amazons into worshipping her as a serpent goddess for a while until Pallas Athene told them they’d been had. They weren’t too happy about it.’ He turned to Oliver. ‘Then she fled back to Crete, I believe. She predates any written references to the Midguard Serpent by at least an aeon.’
‘She’s old certainly,’ Oliver disagreed, ‘but I’m eight thousand or so and the Midguard Serpent was around long before I was,’ he argued. I’ve got at least a millennium or two on just about everyone else on the planet. I remember when Pallas Athene turned Medusa and her sisters into gorgons.’ He scratched his shaggy hair again for a moment. ‘Sure I can dig up the exact date somewhere… Might be useful.’
‘Didn’t some guy kill Medusa?’ Sarah asked.
Angela pursed her lips. ‘That was before my time, Master McConnell,’ she told him crisply. She nodded at Sarah. ‘Technically Medusa is a gorgon, not a goddess,’ she explained. ‘Perseus did cut off her head, but gorgons can’t be killed that easily. It grew back.’
‘What happened?’ Melanie demanded, forgetting all about Muhammad. ‘Why did Pallas Athene curse her? Bet She was mad if that meant Medusa could grow her head back!’
‘And who was Perseus?’ Sarah asked.
Angela shook her head for a moment and then held her hand up to ward off further questions.
‘Shh,’ she told the girls. ‘Medusa and her sisters were very beautiful in a time when most women their age weren’t. Pallas Athene took their looks as a threat so she cursed them. Perseus was a friend of Heracles. It’s a long story and we’ve not got the time right now.’
‘But!’ Sarah and Mel protested at once.
Angela cast a quick glance at James who was intently studying a stone column, then rolled her eyes and turned to Oliver.
‘You haven’t got Amazon Anthology by Queen Penthesilea, have you? Apollodorus of Rhodes’ Voyage of Argo would probably come in handy too, if it’s the original version without all that silly editing that Zeus insisted upon.’ She gave the girls an arch look. ‘Before we get you started on Norse lore, a bit of Greek history wouldn’t hurt. It’s a bit more current.’
‘Hmm?’ Oliver asked, still peering at the list. He looked up, not at Angela, but at James. When he realised James was much more interested in the stone column, he turned back to Angela. ‘Of course I have, but are you sure you want it? I thought Isaacs over there would have been a better source of information. I mean, after all, he was there.’ He looked back in confusion at James and shrugged. ‘If their education needs that much work, you’d better find Virgil too… maybe some Ovid. Not Homer. He was full of it. The great goose spent all his time barbecuing everything in sight.’
Angela turned to the girls. ‘I’ll explain later,’ she promised. ‘We mustn’t get sidetracked now.’
Oliver caught Angela’s change in tone and turned back to the list. ‘I don’t have this last one,’ he said regretfully, pointing at the list. ‘The Babylonian Heresies has been lost for ages. Not even old Vladimir’s got a copy of that.’ He looked at Benjamin curiously. ‘I read it yonks ago, and then I think I lost it. I must have lent it to someone.’ He paused and scratched his head again. ‘Goblins never return anything,’ he muttered sourly. ‘Are you sure you want it? I only read it because I was studying the Egyptians at the time. I don’t remember it being very informative. Why do you want it?’
Benjamin shrugged. ‘An acquaintance of mine thought it might be useful.’
‘Would you like me to go find these, Sir?’ Nathan asked Benjamin.
Benjamin nodded at Nathan, who was just about beside himself in his eagerness to delve into the massive library.
‘Go on,’ he told the bookwyrm. ‘Just don’t get lost.’ He turned nack to Oliver. ‘The Heresies predates even you. Nobody’s really sure who wrote it, or what the correct title is. We only know the name Solomon gave it. He decided it was heresy to have the thing read in public so he rounded up every last copy he could find and burned them.’
The name Solomon triggered something in Sarah’s memory. She turned to Melanie. ‘Didn’t you say one of your brothers was doing someth
ing with King Solomon’s mines in the Congo?’
Melanie nodded. ‘Crazy Dan.’
Oliver’s eyes widened. His mood shifted suddenly again from anger to excitement. He turned and grabbed Melanie by the shoulders and stared at her intently.
‘Are you telling me that Daniel Hazel is your brother?’ He demanded incredulously.
Melanie stammered a reply. ‘Yes!’ she burst out while Oliver shook her excitedly.
Oliver let her go and sat on the library counter with a look of wonder on his face. ‘Well I’ll be buggered!’
Ronald and James looked at each other in confusion.
‘What the devil do you mean, Cromwell?’ James demanded.
Oliver waved at Sarah. ‘Your little Golden Mane here has an amazing talent for coming up trumps,’ he said, shaking his head in disbelief. He turned to Sarah. ‘You should take up poker,’ he told her grudgingly. He turned back to James. ‘If there’s one place on this planet where a copy of that blasted tome you want is hidden, it’s in those mines.’ He paused again. ‘Someone else was chasing that thing a few hundred years ago too,’ he murmured.
‘I thought you said Solomon destroyed all the copies he could find,’ Sarah reminded Benjamin. ‘Why would he keep a copy in his own mine?’
‘Solomon was a king and kings never really get their hands all that dirty,’ the Silver Shroud explained. ‘He’d have delegated the job. Naturally, his archivists would have had to keep at least one copy for reference. Add the fact that the book was banned, every student with the funds made sure he had a copy, just because they weren’t allowed to have one.’ He grinned. ‘Best way for an author to get famous is to get one of his books banned,’ he agreed. Then he shrugged. ‘Solomon was pretty thorough. As soon as he realised banning the book actually made it more popular, he got tough. Not many copies survived. This was a guy who used to cut babies in half, remember.’