by Rahma Krambo
Akeel collected himself by closing his eyes, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. He spoke in a language Marco didn’t understand, and with both hands, gently opened the book.
A magnitude of light came bursting from inside the book, like water liberated through the turn of a spigot. It filled the room, transforming the walls into a kaleidoscope of radiance. Constellations, algebraic formulas, and whirling dervishes swirled together. Marco grew dizzy watching the wall of revolving images, vaguely reminiscent of his time travel experience. Many of them were little more than a blur, except for a few strange ones—wild horses racing across desert sand and a young monk in a bare candlelit room, writing at a small desk.
How did all this come from inside the book?
Marco went over to look at the open pages of strange script. He thought he’d seen a lot of books, but never anything like this. The pages were made of some material that reminded him of the crystalline spiral staircase, only paper thin. It appeared to be alive.
Gradually the marvelous show subsided and the room returned to normal. But nothing was really what Marco would call normal anymore.
“I will now give you a simple demonstration of its power,” said Akeel, pulling out a knife hidden in the folds of his tunic. In one smooth movement, he sliced his hand. Bright red blood seeped from the cut.
Chapter 14: The right frequency
Akeel held his right hand over the book as blood pooled in his other hand. Marco thought Cicero should be more worried, but he acted like he’d seen this before. Akeel moved his right hand in a circle above the wound. The blood and the cut both disappeared, as though it had never happened.
Marco was speechless.
Akeel smiled. “This was merely a parlor trick… to show you its healing power. But you asked why it needs guarding. That requires something a little more novel.” He assured Cicero, “We will keep it simple and not too showy.”
Akeel picked up Chuluum and placed him on the table. The cat tried to bolt, but Akeel was quick. With a few words and a wave of his arm, Akeel transformed Chuluum into a small squirming gray ball.
Marco could hardly believe his eyes. Chuluum was gone and a mouse had taken his place.
Alaniah flew in jittery circles above their heads. The mouse jumped out of Akeel’s grasp and Cicero pounced on him. The squirming cat-turned-mouse went limp and Marco feared he was dead.
“Here, let me have him,” Akeel said. “I don’t want him scratching you when I change him back.”
Akeel cupped the mouse in his hands and blew gently. Suddenly Chuluum became his old self and tumbled to the floor. His fur ruffled and his whiskers twitched with humiliation, but he puffed out his chest and glared at Marco like it was his fault. Then he high-tailed it out of the room.
“Poor Chuluum,” said Marco. Five minutes ago he thought the cat was arrogant and annoying. Now he was a little sorry for him. “Will he be alright?”
“He’s fine. He won’t come out of hiding for a while, but he’ll forgive me. He knows I mean him no harm. But you can see why the Book’s power is not to be played with. I needed a quick way to show you what some people call magic and others call God—and why they will go to extreme measures to try and possess it.”
Alaniah had calmed and was floating above. Strains of music drifted in from a distance, or maybe it was coming from her. Marco couldn’t tell.
“Few cats are able to hear the music,” Cicero said.
The sound grew more intense until it reverberated throughout his body. Like a magnanimous purr or the roaring of Niagara Falls. Or the singing of angels.
“How come I can hear it?” Marco asked Cicero.
“You have to be tuned to the right channel. Most cats don’t operate on that frequency.”
“It’s a good sign. You’ve done well picking this one,” Akeel told Cicero.
“I’m thinking he picked me.”
“Could be,” said Akeel. “More likely, it is the hand of destiny.”
Akeel went over and stroked Marco on his head. “We will put the book away for now. It’s time to tell you more of the story.”
Marco burrowed into Akeel’s hand and Akeel picked him up, embracing him as he closed the Book. He blew on the dust particles and they rematerialized to their former state as a box.
“Let us go elsewhere, where we can make ourselves comfortable.” Akeel led them out of the small chamber into a room plump with books. Delightfully disordered, shelves were bursting with books which overflowed onto low tables and sitting cushions.
People who were reading or talking paid them no mind as Akeel cleared a space on a low cushioned platform and settled cross-legged on the divan. Chuluum, still ruffled, glared at them from his hiding place between piles of books across the room.
When they were comfortable, Akeel turned to Marco. “You have a lot of questions, no?”
“No? Oh, but yes,” said Marco. “I don’t even know where to start, except I have one for Cicero. Why did you bring me here? I mean, why me?”
“That will become obvious,” Cicero answered. “But not yet. There is more to learn and…” Cicero’s eyes pierced his soul. “You must be found worthy.”
Marco shuddered and the conversation died. After a moment Akeel spoke. “You see all these men and women around you? They may look like casual readers enjoying a pleasant afternoon in this small library room. But do not let appearances deceive you. They are warriors of the highest order, Guardians of knowledge.”
They didn’t look like warriors to Marco. He’d read plenty of adventure books and none of the heroes sat around reading.
“They must pass many trials before they arrive here. Many do not make it for various reasons, but even if they pass all the others, the problem comes with the test of power.”
While Akeel explained, Cicero got up, stretched and began to pace.
Akeel talked as if remembering. “In the beginning, the taste of power is sweet, savored on the tongue, like fine wine. It whispers promises in your ear and pretends to be your friend. It is easy to become addicted to this feeling.
“If you do not resist the lure of power, you become hooked. Then you begin to gather small crimes, in layers, like thin cloth, one covering another. Insignificant things, they must seem at first. A little dishonesty. Perhaps the implication of an innocent person in some misdeed. Lies, pretense and betrayals wrap themselves like a cloak and the imposter becomes nothing more than an actor in his own play.”
His brow furrowed. “If it were only that uncomplicated. Everything we do affects the molecules around us. Just being here changes things in ways we cannot see.” Then he made a strange statement. “But when duplicity is disguised behind a mask of honor, the consequences ripple like waves throughout time.”
Cicero stopped pacing. “I have been trying to remember something I read, a quote by a famous man.”
Akeel’s strained face relaxed. “You are always full of good quotes, Cicero.”
“It was spoken by a man named Abraham Lincoln. He said, ‘Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power.’ I always liked that one.”
“A wise observation,” said Akeel. “He must have been an honorable man. Maybe a Guardian as well.” He paused, reflecting further. “A man with power will show his true character. Eventually. But many spend all their time making themselves more clever, concealing their intentions.
“I have met with this kind of deception, Akeel,” Cicero said sadly. “I fear that I have not been a wisest of Guardians.”
“Do not blame yourself, Cicero. We have all had encounters with betrayal and treachery.”
Marco had a question forming in him that seemed to have nothing to do with Akeel’s speech. Nothing and yet, everything. Only a short time ago, he longed to regain his former life. Now he felt an even stronger attraction to being here, to the Library and Akeel. In fact, he never wanted to leave. “Would it be possible for me… to stay?” Marco blurted out.
“Dear Marco,�
� said Cicero in a rare moment of grandfatherly affection. “Be careful what you ask for.” Cicero then climbed into Akeel’s lap. “But I know exactly how you feel. I would stay forever too, if it were my choice.”
Akeel looked at him curiously. “Hey Cicero, I have never known you to be so affectionate.” He stroked Cicero’s head, and they sat together for a moment.
Suddenly Chuluum darted out, aiming straight for Akeel. Cicero sorrowfully, but graciously surrendered his spot to its rightful owner. Marco had a newfound respect for both cats.
“Cicero?” Marco asked, realizing that the humans in the room had never given them a glance. “I think that nobody else knows we are here. Only Akeel and Chuluum.”
Cicero answered with nothing more than a cryptic smile. At that moment, Alaniah flew over to join them.
“Enjoying your visit, Alaniah?” Cicero asked.
She answered by flying in wide, ecstatic loops over their heads. Trails of colored crystalline sifted downwards and Alaniah disappeared amongst the others.
“What is she?” Marco asked, after licking the fine dust that glowed momentarily on his coat.
“Alaniah is a creature of stardust,” Akeel answered. “She’s a Losring.”
Marco tried spotting her in the swirling radiance high above them, then she was suddenly right in front of his face, like a glowing butterfly.
To Cicero she said, “Shouldn’t we show him coming events?”
Chapter 15: The spiral staircase
“I’m not ready,” Cicero answered heavily. “Because I know what’s coming,”
Alaniah hovered over her earthly charges. “He must see for himself,” she insisted gently.
Cicero sighed. “For that we need to take another trip.” He closed his eyes.
“Dear Cicero,” said Alaniah. “We will try a new means of travel, very easy. Follow me.” She raced off. Marco and Cicero both hung back, not ready to leave their friends. Akeel bid them farewell and Chuluum, who had recovered his dignity, came over and ‘nosed’ Marco goodbye.
Alaniah led the two cats into the grand hall, where they had first arrived. The room glittered and she glided among the others, as if they were all exotic sea creatures.
“Okay, Cicero,” she said, startling him as she landed on his head. “Are you ready?”
Cicero wiped his paw over his eyes, as if brushing off worrisome thoughts. “Show me this new method of traveling.”
“We will use the Golden Spiral.” They had arrived at the foot of the staircase and turned to look at the transparent floating steps winding from the floor in an enormous curve upwards to ever-narrowing circles.
“Most unusual, Alaniah,” Cicero said. “I have seen spiral staircases, but none like this. Why is it so oddly shaped?”
“Odd? I think it’s beautiful-iful.”
“I’m wondering why they are so wide at the bottom and so narrow at the top.”
“Oh earthling, this is a transition spiral, used for mortals. Mostly human, not cats. But then, you are not a normal cat, are you?” Alaniah whirled. “Are you trying to delay this journey, Cicero?”
“No. No. We’ll be on with it, but I am curious about the staircase.”
“Like Akeel explained, it is a means to let humans experience what they are too dense to see. It’s also a doorway from your limited earthly world to… well, to other worlds.”
With that, Alaniah twirled upwards, disappearing in what would normally be a ceiling, but nothing was quite what it appeared to be in this library. Then she spiraled downwards and came to face them, hovering in her rippling nature.
“Come, follow me.”
They followed Alaniah up the floating staircase, rising and turning with each step, making Marco light headed, especially when he made the mistake of looking down.
“Keep your head up, Marco,” counseled Alaniah. “Mortals who climb the Golden Spiral get… what do they call it? ‘Dizzy,’ I think. What a funny word.”
Marco grew dizzier as they approached ever-smaller circles of the higher spheres. Cicero kept close to his side and Marco wondered how he, who loved the highest branches of the trees, even when the wind swung him to and fro, could be having difficulty climbing these simple steps.
“This is as far as we can go. Even cats are not advanced enough to travel higher. Please sit and observe,” Alaniah commanded. She raised one graceful wing and pulled back something like a gauzy veil, which had been invisible until then. She held it open so they could enter.
Then Alaniah flew through, and the veil closed behind them.
Chapter 16: Paradise Lost
Alaniah took Marco and Cicero forward through time in their journey into the past. It was a unique placement, between past and future, but not in the present, and only beings like Alaniah could successfully navigate this realm.
“Now we will see what became of the great grand idea called the Library of Alexandria.”
They were in a vast arena covered by a dome the color of a pre-dawn sky. After a small flicker of light, the dome filled with images, all spinning around him, making him slightly dizzy. Gradually they slowed until the same room where they had left Akeel and Chuluum came into view, but Marco hardly recognized it. People who had been quietly reading were now sweeping books and scrolls off the shelves, stuffing them into bags.
The library, which had been a place of calm, was filled with chaos and confusion. Alexandria, where earth-shattering ideas were born out of the very atmosphere which people breathed, had been attacked. Even viewed through the filter of this cosmic display, Marco smelled panic and knew he was witnessing the birth of tragedy. Paradise had been invaded.
Akeel was there, in the middle, like a well-anchored tree in the midst of a storm. He urged them to take as many books as possible.
Marco flinched when the banging began, angry pounding from somewhere he couldn’t see. Akeel shouted, “The tunnel! Go! Now!” He was shepherding everyone towards the back. “Leave the rest!”
The men and women, toting leather bags heavy with books, stumbled over each other in the mad rush to escape the assault of invaders.
The main door, battered by brute force, splintered open. Shouts of the soldiers were harsh and quick, like knife jabs. There were perhaps a dozen of them, their faces hidden behind metal helmets with black holes in the headgear where their eyes should have been. Marco shivered at the sight of them.
Akeel, after ushering the last of the guardians out, grabbed his bag and Chuluum. But the helmeted men were at his back, and the foremost soldier drew his dagger. Akeel swung around, dropping the bag and cat in one smooth motion. He moved through the hooded men as though his body was his weapon, with fluid movements that resembled a dance more than a fight.
One after another his attackers fell. Metal clanged as soft-bodied men in their exoskeletons of armor collided with each other. Akeel had no armor that Marco could see, but his defense appeared effortless, as though he had some invisible shield around him.
When the turbulence died, Akeel opened the tunnel door to join the exodus of librarians. He did not see the lone black figure creep out from the shadows, dagger aimed at his back. Marco jumped up, certain that Akeel was about to be killed, and here he was, helpless to do anything. Again. He didn’t want to watch, but he couldn’t keep from it either. The man’s blade plunged. Marco cringed.
In the microsecond before the knife pierced Akeel’s back, a shower of crystalline light exploded in the face of the assassin and his hand missed its mark. A cluster of Losrings had intervened. They aimed their blinding light on the killer, relentlessly driving him backwards until he turned and ran.
The screen went black, plunging them into darkness. Marco was practically beside himself, wondering what had happened, when the screen appeared again. Now Akeel and the others were crawling through a crude tunnel, heaving their bags in front of them, struggling on hands and knees with their cumbersome loads.
There was light at the end of the tunnel, but it did not come from the sun
. Marco’s view of what awaited them outside was blocked by the scuffle of librarians pulling themselves and their bags out of the tunnel, silhouetted against a bright orange blaze behind them.
A clear view showed not one but many huge fires lighting up the Library’s concourse. A dozen or so bonfires burned in perfectly straight lines, as if they had been planted in an orchard. Black butterflies skipped through the air above the fires, people were celebrating, and Marco thought it was a frightening but glorious sight.
Akeel called to the others to follow him as he ran behind a small building and ordered everyone to stay. He moved towards the fires, keeping low to the ground. Marco had never seen a human look like he was stalking prey. Then the light from the flames revealed a look of horror on Akeel’s face.
Cicero would not speak, so Alaniah tried to explain. She told him that the soldiers had drained the water and filled the fountains to the brim with books, poured oil over them and lit them with torches.
Alaniah’s account of what was happening made him angry at her for suggesting such a dreadful idea.
“You’re lying!” he shouted at her. Alaniah’s crisp retort was in some language he didn’t understand. Marco sat for a moment, trying to absorb the impossible concept.
“But…” He hardly knew what to say. “Books? Why would they want to burn books?”
“I do not understand the ways of humans,” was her bleak response. After that, Marco sat in silence with Cicero hunched next to him. He had to remind himself that what was happening was real because it seemed more like a bad dream.
In a carnival-like atmosphere, women sat eating, while their children played at the perimeter of the fire’s light. Books and scrolls were piled in heaps like burial mounds around the fires. Men joked and laughed as they threw the books in.
Marco heard a man say, “Fire is such a beautiful thing.” It was at that moment he realized those weren’t black butterflies he’d seen—they were fragments of scorched paper.
“Brilliant, I’d say!” said another man.