by Rahma Krambo
He congratulated himself.
At first he didn’t recognize the figure in the mirror but it was dark. He checked the eyes staring back at him. Yes, they were his eyes, now yellow and glowing. This pleased him as well as the now-familiar metallic flavor on his tongue, a taste that accompanied his successes. A voice interrupted his self-admiration.
“You might need my help now,” said his Whisperer.
“Why? I’m doing well on my own.”
“You are looking at the mirror.”
“What’s your point?”
“What do you know about mirrors?”
Of course! How stupid of him. The door had been here the whole time. How could he have missed it?
“I have companions who will assist you,” hissed the Whisperer.
Suddenly the temperature dropped. The mirror reflected a ghostly phantom behind him and before he could blink, he was wrapped in a shroud and pulled through the portal, with barely enough time to notice the other creatures who gleefully trailed along for the free ride.
Chapter 60: The weight of a Guardian
Marco arrived in Cicero’s empty chamber, heavy with sadness and the weight of his new position. He never realized that becoming a Guardian meant losing his mentor and friend.
Feeling as though he’d been charged with protecting more than The Book of Motion, he walked out to the balcony, Cicero’s old command post. He remembered how the old cat used to sit here for long hours, surveying the library as though he were the captain of his ship.
At first, he saw the dust in the air and confused it for smoke. He panicked, then quickly realized his mistake. But it might as well have been smoke—the library was in ruins.
He stood frozen to the floor, denying as long as possible that what his eyes saw was real. He wanted a closer look, because he couldn’t distinguish anything recognizable. Mounds of rubble were everywhere and some sort of confetti floated in the air.
He descended the staircase, every step sinking him deeper in despair. Shafts of moonlight coming through the window blinds sliced through plumes of dust. When he reached the ground floor, he saw the crumbling debris of what used to be books spilling off the shelves, disintegrated into pulp. The ones left standing had cracked and peeling covers.
He had no doubt that the evil Professor’s hand was in this, but he could not imagine what darkness lay within a human being who would annihilate a library. He thought of Alexandria and remembered hearing the cheers of men who celebrated the destruction of other men’s stories.
He climbed over the mounds of rubble in a daze. It wasn’t until a woman’s face peered out from the debris that he realized he’d been climbing over dead bodies. The woman was wrapped in a brown fur coat, now covered in a layer of ashy white powder. He looked out across the floor where the dust was clearing and saw the mounds for what they really were. Corpses. There was something odd about how they laid all in the same direction, as if they had collapsed in the same moment, just before reaching the wide front door.
Marco wandered the battle field. There were World War II soldiers carrying rifles, as well as women in ball gowns. There were men in baseball caps and top hats, women in flowered hats and scarves, and little girls in braids. There were boys with slingshots, pirates and circus clowns, all victims of a battle of good and evil they had lost.
Marco didn’t know how he knew, but it became obvious. The bodies were characters trying to escape the unspeakable horror of the death of their story.
He could go no further. He lay down between a circus clown and a cowboy and covered his head. He might as well be dead, too.
A shower of sparks rained down on him. Alaniah flew in circles around his head. “What are you doing in such a sorry state?”
Marco did not want to be confronted with his ‘sorry state’ and kept his head under the clown’s polka dot suit.
“Marco, do you think Cicero left you in charge so you could bury your head when things got tough?”
“I didn’t know it would get this bad,” he said.
“You think this is a walk in the park, as humans say, protecting such a powerful Book?”
He pulled his head out from under the clown, ready to argue. “I don’t know what I thought, but it wasn’t this.”
Alaniah laughed. “You’re so funny, Marco. It will be interesting being your companion.”
“How can you say that? I’m not fit to be a Guardian. I haven’t completed my training. Alaniah, I have barely begun my training. I can’t do this!”
“If not you, then who?”
Marco fell silent. She had a good point, but he didn’t like it.
“You are not without resources,” she insisted.
“What do you mean?”
“Ah, it never fails to amaze me how short are the memories of earthly creatures. Cicero gave you a gift, didn’t he?”
“The words?”
“Of course, the words! Don’t you remember what happened when you spoke them?”
Marco remembered when he spoke them last—the demon beast who killed Cicero had been plucked from this world by a gryphon.
“Don’t forget these words.”
“How are words going to change this, Alaniah? Look at the library. It’s dead. Cicero’s dead. I wish I were dead.”
“Oh, youngling. You are so dramatic. Do you want this to be the end of your story?”
It was not a question. It was a challenge, and next to the ones Cicero had given him, these were probably the most powerful words Marco had ever heard. Their magic worked. No, he did not want this to be the end of his story!
“Words have power,” Alaniah said. “From the beginning of time, they have brought things to life. All it takes to bring the library back is the belief in their power. Words brought darkness to this place and it will be words that bring it back.”
Renewed, Marco ran back to the balcony for a better vantage point, Alaniah floating above him.
“Fa-taw-la-nee, rah-ma-la-nee, ma-fa-la-nee, moon-too-laaaah.” He kept repeating the words, but nothing happened.
Then he saw something scurry out from between one set of stacks and down another. Could it be another raccoon? He ignored it, thinking that he had bigger problems than raccoons, but he was unprepared for what happened next.
The creature who had rescued him from the hell hound, a gryphon, flew in from a far corner and landed on the top of a high shelf, where he preened his talons and feathers and fur. Marco was mesmerized by the magnificent creature, so much so that even as it flew towards him, and even as it attacked him, he was completely stunned. The bird-beast’s talons dug into Marco’s skin, gripping him as he plucked him from the ground. All Marco could think was that this creature saved him only to return and make him his prey.
The gryphon landed on top of a high shelf and released Marco from his talons. But Marco was not free; he lay stretched out, the gryphon holding him down by standing on him with his full weight.
Marco imagined that the beast would begin to pick him apart, piece by piece. Some magic that was; the words had done him no good. Here he was doomed to die, a little bit at a time. He knew it was useless to struggle, that it would only speed the process.
When the bird-beast moved his head down towards him, Marco closed his eyes. Not that it would help, but it was the only thing he was able to move. The gryphon’s beak parted his fur and Marco felt its razor sharp point on his skin.
It wasn’t until the gryphon had been combing over his body for several moments that Marco realized he wasn’t going to be eaten. He opened his eyes. The bird was grooming him.
When the gryphon finished, he remained on top of Marco, with his long tail waving gently down the side of the bookshelves. The bird bowed and touched his forehead to Marco’s head, and oddly enough, something about this gesture reminded Marco of Cicero.
The gryphon picked him up and flew back down, deposited Marco on the floor, then flapped his enormous wings and flew off.
Chapter 61: Angel in disguise
“Don’t you just love the library?” said Lily.
Marco was shocked to find her sitting calmly, not two feet away. “How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to know I can’t tell anybody what just happened.”
Lily never ceased to amaze Marco. She seemed much older than the small white kitten she appeared to be.
Alaniah arrived in a shower of light. “Marco, there is no time to dawdle. You have work to do. I will open the door,” she said. They had been standing by the mirror and Marco and Lily were suddenly pulled through the portal and onto the steps down to the dark, dungeon-like chamber.
A cold draft greeted them. “Where do you think you’re going?” a voice whispered, and the cold air blew against Marco’s face.
Marco turned to Lily. “I don’t think you should be here.” Lily ignored him and kept walking steadily down the stairs next to him. The further down they got, the dimmer the light became. Marco looked around for Alaniah, but it seemed they were on their own.
The stairway, which he had seen before, looked very different now. The rock walls glowed with lights, dozen of small ones in pairs, like eyes. Then Marco realized they were eyes, imprisoned in the rock.
Heat radiated from the wall on one side, and currents of cold air rose up from the depths of the dark canyon on the other side, making their passage miserably hot and cold at the same time. The eyes followed their every move down the steps. Marco was terrified, but he held to his course.
Just before the stairs took a sharp turn into total darkness, they reached the landing area. The door to the chamber was cracked open and the Professor was pacing around the table, chanting. The room was crowded with shadow creatures watching the Professor as he tried to take the Book. Electrical charges shattered the darkness of the room whenever he reached for it, and the Professor cursed the light.
Without warning, a shadow creature stretched one arm through the door and grabbed Lily. Marco lost sight of her within the shadow’s murk until it plunked her down on the table next to the Book.
“What?” cried the Professor. “Where did this come from?” He grabbed Lily and held her by her neck. Lily struggled to breathe.
“Might you be an angel in disguise?” asked the Professor, laughing at his own joke. “A wicked cat is just what I need right now.”
The Professor put her on the table in front of the Book and used her as a shield to absorb the shock. It didn’t work. The power of the Book pushed them both back and a swirl of light escaped from the Book. Lily shook violently.
Marco didn’t wait to see what the Professor would do next. In a flying leap he was on the table next to her.
“Is this my lucky day? Or am I cursed?” he asked.
“I daresay it is Cicero’s young protégé,” said the Whisperer.
“How did so many wretched cats get in here?”
The Professor swooped down and seized Marco, who pumped his hind legs furiously against the man’s chest.
“Oh, no you don’t! I’ll not suffer from the claws of a cat again.”
The Professor gripped both sets of Marco’s legs while Marco tried to bite him.
“So wild. He must be feral,” rasped the Whisperer.
“Feral cats in the library? I think they are not wild, but why are they lurking everywhere? The one I thought I needed is dead. Now…! How many more demon cats prowl this library?”
Marco turned his head so he could see Lily. Never had he seen her scared, not even in the clutches of Sting, but she was frightened now.
“Perhaps you could do something interesting with him? Try out some of your new skills,” offered the Whisperer. “Better yet, use him for a spell needing a cat. Of course, he would have to be dead first.”
Marco struggled to escape the Professor’s grasp, trying every trick he knew. He finally got his head into a good position and sunk his teeth into the man’s hand.
The Professor shrieked and threw him across the room. “Here, you take care of this beast,” the Professor ordered the shadow. Before Marco could move, he was enveloped in a cold, black nothingness.
Like his dream. It was his dream, his nightmare come true!
He thrashed out in all directions, but it was impossible to fight an enemy he couldn’t see. He heard the Professor’s muffled voice as though he were under a heavy blanket. He heard nothing from Lily.
Then even within the darkness, Marco saw a flash of light and heard Lily’s terrified yowl. The Professor announced, “You are mine!” and Marco knew he had the Book.
The shadow creature shifted positions and Marco couldn’t tell if he was upside down or right side up. He was cold beyond belief and shivered so violently his teeth were chattering.
Then he realized the Professor was speaking to him, as though from the other side of a door. “You can have your freedom now,” the man was saying. “It won’t hurt a bit.” Then he said something Marco couldn’t hear as though he’d turned away. “All you must do is declare your allegiance to me.” Suddenly the darkness cleared and Marco saw the Professor, but he was unable to move. “That’s better. You can see me now. So let’s get this over with quickly. I need to move on, but I want to test out my power. You will do as well as the next miserable creature.”
The Book of Motion was lying open on the table and Lily was lying unconscious next to it. Or was she dead?
“Declare your obedience and, as much as I’d like to be rid of you, I will give you your mobility. You would like to walk again, wouldn’t you?”
Marco struggled to move, but his body was as good as dead.
“You want to make this difficult? Don’t waste my time. You are nothing to me and I will leave you down here to rot. Declare your obedience or suffer the consequences.”
Marco could not imagine owing his life to this demon human, but he could also not allow the man to get away with possessing the Book and leaving Lily for dead. He was powerless and thought that maybe this was his sacrifice. Would he have to be the servant of a mad man in order to save the Book? Could the Professor unlock the secrets of the Book? Any power that his man had would be dangerous. That he had seen with his own eyes.
The Professor approached Marco and peered into his face. “My father always said the only good cat was a dead cat. I will make better use of you that way.”
The Professor grabbed him by the throat and squeezed his neck. Somehow, through the terror, or maybe because of it, he remembered.
The words came to him and strength welled up inside. “Fa-taw-la-nee…” came the words that had mystical power, words that were the key to motion born from the beginning of time. It moved through his body and into his throat. The force that came out of his mouth bellowed like a lion.
Before he sprang, he recoiled and roared again, a terrible and savage cry.
*****
In the small room there was only the lion, the man, the Book and a shivering white kitten. As a lion, Marco filled most of the empty space.
When he opened his mouth he spoke in the language of men. “Leave it! You have no permission to use this Book!”
The Professor was trying his best to appear unruffled, but when Marco roared the third time, the Professor backed up.
“This is not a book for magicians!” bellowed Marco, the lion-hearted.
“I will use it to help others,” he offered, as if this would somehow appease the terrifying predator that stood before him. “People will be happy with my illusions.”
“You seek to control the minds of men?” accused Marco.
“There is nothing greater than absolute power over other men,” said the Professor.
“Your words echo those of tyrants and oppressors.”
“Rulers, misunderstood, are often considered tyrants.”
“You are nothing but a petty thief longing to become a god!” Marco growled. Then he opened his mouth to roar again, but instead a light appeared, filling the room. When it touched the Professor, the man appeared to shrink. He withdrew from
the light and crouched in a corner, a small, pathetic creature. Like a battered child, thought Marco, and he had one fleeting glimpse into the man’s wounded past.
Marco moved to the table and lowered his shoulders so Lily could easily climb on. Then he picked up the Book in his powerful jaws and went out to the landing area outside the door. Alaniah appeared on the steps.
“Where have you been?” roared Marco.
“I have my job, dear Marco, and you have yours. Forgive me if I am neglectful.” Alaniah secured the door to the underground chamber, committing the Professor to utter darkness.
From the outside, Marco heard another door slam shut. Then a noise, like waves crashing, or the sound of steel gates rolling shut, and the screaming of a madman.
Chapter 62: Rejoicing
Marco ascended the stone steps with Lily nestled in his lion’s mane.
“I would never have believed that if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,” said Lily.
Alaniah lighted their way and Lily kept chattering all the way up. “You had light coming out of your mouth! How’d you do that, Marco?”
He moved with quiet strength and grace. As a lion, he could conquer anything. As the king of beasts, he could not imagine returning to being a stray cat of no consequence. Now he could protect the Book, the library, even the other cats.
Aware of every sinew in his powerful body, he shook his head, feeling the fan of fur that was his mane, almost unsettling Lily. He roared with the pride of this power, reveling in his new size and stature.
“You’re scaring me Marco,” said Lily. “But I like it.”
When they reached the top step, Alaniah said, “You have done well, Marco, but your rejoicing will be short-lived.”
Puzzling words, thought Marco, as he waited for her to open the portal. When she did, he stepped into the library, and indeed, his rejoicing moment was over.
As if such a thing were possible, the library seemed more desolate than before.
Chapter 63: Encounter with a Queen
The stench of death was in the air and the only color present was varying shades of gray. Marco gently released the book from his jaws onto a table and Lily hopped off his back. He turned towards the sound of something like a pig rooting in the dirt, and a creature crawled out from between the ruined stacks.