by Amy Cross
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“You heard. They need people on the ropes! This is all your fault, Alex!”
“My fault? How is it my fault?”
“If we hadn't all been fighting about you,” he replies, “then maybe they'd have had the boat prepared for the storm!”
“That's not my fault!” I yell, but he's already following Cromer across the deck.
For a moment, too stunned to know what to do, I simply stand with my hands gripping the railing, as the boat continues to get tossed on the waves and as several pirates near me work to fix the top of the mast.
“This is hopeless!” one of them yells, as they start pulling back and the others begin to pull on the ropes. “Even if it stays up, how are we going to connect the top back to the others? Who's going to volunteer to climb up there and do all the work? It'll be a suicide mission!”
“I've got an idea,” Gall says, before suddenly stepping toward me and putting a rope around my waist. “Your little boyfriend reckons humans can be useful,” he tells me, pulling the rope tight before I have a chance to react. “Let's see you do your best. Then I'll personally climb up there to do the job once you've failed!” He leans closer to me, until I can feel his hot, stinking breath against my face. “Humans are worthless!” he sneers. “Time to prove that point!”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, looking down at the rope and suddenly realizing that I'm attached to the top of the mast. “What -”
“Now!” a voice yells in the distance, and I hear a loud creaking sound as all the ropes are pulled tight. A moment later, the mast shudders and then its tip begins to rise, and I realize they're hauling it back up.
I look down again at the rope around my waist.
“I hope you've got a head for heights, human,” Gall sneers. “Have fun up there!”
I turn to him.
“What have you -”
Suddenly the mast lifts high up into the stormy sky, and I realize far too late exactly what's about to happen. I frantically try to get the rope loose, but I'm immediately pulled up off the decking. Dangling about two meters from the very top of the mast, I scream as I'm dragged up and slammed into its wooden side. I keep expecting someone to notice what's happening to me, but the sails are billowing and everyone seems focused on getting the mast back up, and my cries are lost in the wind. I thud into the mast again as it's hauled upright, and then as I look down at the deck far below I see that all the crew-members are focused on applying more and more of that gulley paste stuff to the broken section, as if they're trying to keep it from snapping again.
Even Cromer and Christian seem not to have noticed that I'm up here.
Grabbing the side of the mast, I steady myself for a moment and then I turn myself the right way up. I'm about a hundred feet above the deck, with rain and wind battering against my side, and when I turn and look over my shoulder I'm shocked by the sight of huge waves filling the view all the way to the horizon. As the boat tilts again, I cling harder than ever to the mast, and I try to figure out how I'm going to get down. Heights have never been my thing, and fear has frozen me to the spot. All I can think is that I'm about to die here, in the middle of a storm in a world so far from home, and my family will never know. They'll just think I ran away and never went back to them. They'll think I gave up.
“Alex!” a voice yells, just about managing to be heard above the sound of the storm and all the other shouting.
Shivering with cold and fear, I force myself to look down. The sight of all those little figures on the deck makes me feel dizzy, and I swear I'm about to either throw up or pass out or maybe both, but then I spot Cromer waving at me frantically. Christian's next to him, and a moment later I spot the familiar, large shape of Gall. Even from up here, I can tell that he's laughing.
I look over at the other two masts and see that they're connected at their tops by a thick rope. A similar rope is hanging loosely from this mast, but it must have broken during the accident. As the mast continues to sway, I remember Gall saying something about someone having to climb up here, and I realize he must have meant that the last rope needs to be reconnected. The other mast is about twenty or thirty feet away, although a little further down there's another rope that somehow managed to stay in place, probably because it had plenty of slack. In theory, someone could climb down, cross that rope, then climb up the other mast and put the final connection in place.
Someone.
Not me.
I can only cling helplessly to this thing and scream as the boat tilts again. I can hear Gall's laughter echoing in my head, but there's no way I can do anything to prove him wrong. At least for now I'm attached to this mast, so I can't fall, although a moment later the boat shudders hard and I'm briefly thrown out into the storm before I slam back against the mast again with such force that I swear I feel my brain shaking in my skull.
“Alex!”
Cromer shouts again, but this time I don't dare look down at him.
Suddenly the whole ship shudders. Again I'm thrown away from the mast, but the rope around my waist tightens and I'm slammed back even harder. This time I bang my head against the wood, and I feel a slicing pain in my side. I open my eyes and see the huge waves again, and I realize that at this rate I'm going to get battered to death up here. I force myself to look down, and I see all the figures still far away on the deck, and then I spot Gall again.
He's definitely laughing, and I stare at him for a moment before telling myself that if I'm going to die on this stupid boat, then at least I'm going to prove a point first.
“Humans are worthless!” I hear his voice saying, echoing in my thoughts. “Time to prove that point!”
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Before I have a chance to rethink this plan, I reach down and start untying the rope. I glance around, and I don't see any massive waves about to strike, so I hurry as I figure out exactly what I'm going to do. I have to slither down about ten feet to the rope below, then I have to climb across to the other mast, and then I have to climb up, all while holding the other rope that needs to be attached. There are so many ropes involved in this mess, it's hard to keep track, but I tell myself that this can all be relatively simple. I just need to not think too much, and to not look down.
Definitely don't look down.
Once the rope around my waist is untied, I tell myself that it's time to get moving. Slowly, struggling to keep my grip on the wet wood, I start inching my way lower, toward the connecting rope. I try to think of happy things, of times when I wasn't clinging to a mast in the middle of a storm, and I briefly manage to remember a day when I was much younger, when Libby and I were playing in the park. That was before her accident, of course, and I was being a slightly bratty older sister, but it's my one really clear memory of a fun family day out. After Libby's accident, there was always a shadow over everything.
“Alex!” I remember Libby shouting. “Play with me!”
Suddenly I hear a roaring sound. Roused from my happy place, I look around the mast and see to my horror that an absolutely ginormous wave has come out of nowhere and is rushing toward the ship. I freeze, not knowing what to do, and then the wave hits. The entire boat tilts back, almost at a ninety degree angle. I try to cling to the mast, but my fingers slip on the soaking wet wood and I scream as I fall.
“Alex!”
It's Libby's voice again.
For a moment, the whole world seems to spin all around me and I don't know which way is up and which way is down. And then my shoulders slam into the next mast, and I instinctively reach out and manage to grab another rope as the boat crashes back down and hits the water. All I see is gray water and a gray sky, and for a few seconds the whole world is a blur as salty water fills my eyes. I have to blink hard to clear my vision. Finally, however, I realize that as the boat tipped up I was sent flying through the air until I hit the next mast, which means I'm almost exactly where I need to be.
I look down
at my hand, and I see that by some miracle I'm still holding the other end of the rope that needs to be connected.
I immediately start climbing, making sure to focus only on the task. I don't look down, I don't look out at the storm, I only look up until I reach the top of the mast, and then I take a moment to attach the rope. I have to tie several knots, and I tie a few extra just in case, but finally I get the rope in place. Just as I'm starting to wonder whether I've done everything right, I hear more shouting from far below, and then I hear another sound above the storm and the creaking of the boat.
I hear people cheering.
Clinging to the mast, I manage to tie myself securely in place. There's no sign of the storm clearing, at least not yet, so I'm not even going to think about trying to climb down. Instead, I squeeze my eyes tight shut and hold on for dear life, and I try to find my way back to that happy memory of a day in the park with my sister.
***
Many hours later, once we've passed through the storm and the sun has begun to rise on a new day, I finally find the courage to inch my way down the mast. Drops of water are still falling, and the ropes are soaked, and as soon as I try to stand on the deck I feel my legs give way, and I thud down hard.
“Easy, there,” Captain Obslath says, reaching out to help me as I lean back against the mast and try to catch my breath. “You'll be pleased to know that I've assigned your mopping duties to somebody else.”
“Yeah,” I gasp, “that's what I was worrying about the whole time I was up there. Who's gonna mop the deck? I think I might be delirious.”
“You could have been killed!” Christian says, dropping to his knees next to me. “I couldn't believe it when I saw you hanging up there. Why did you do it?”
“It wasn't exactly my choice,” I murmur, before spotting Gall watching from nearby. He quickly turns away, but from his annoyed expression it's pretty clear that I made my point. He expected me to be splatted against the deck by now.
“Not bad,” Mr. Troppelcade says with a faint smile. “For a human.”
“Thanks,” I murmur.
“Actually,” Captain Obslath says, turning to Mr. Troppelcade, “you shouldn't be so surprised that a human saved the day. After all, your captain is one as well.”
“What do you...”
Mr. Troppelcade stares at him for a moment, and I can see the shocked expression spreading across his features as Captain Obslath slowly removes his beak and hands it over to the startled man.
“Gather the crew together,” Captain Obslath says with a faint smile. “This whole episode has made me realize that perhaps I should make a little announcement. And take the shortest route to the Encadian shore, so that we can help these fine people reach Shadar as quickly as possible. Is that understood?”
“I... Yes...” Mr. Troppelcade says, stepping back and bumping against the ship's wheel, then turning and stumbling down some steps onto the next part of the deck.
“You need to recover,” Captain Obslath tells me. “We should reach the Encadian shore around this time tomorrow, and all three of you will need all your strength if you're to have a hope of getting to Shadar. I'm therefore relieving you of your duties and ordering you to rest.” He glances over his shoulder for a moment. “And now, if you don't mind, I have to go and make a rather startling announcement to my men. They're about to find out once and for all that we humans are more than capable of holding our own in this land.”
“You're shaking,” Christian tells me, as Cromer sits next to us.
“I was so high up,” I stammer, thinking back to the sight of the boat's deck so far below. “If I'd fallen, I'd have exploded like a tomato!”
“It's probably best not to think about that too much,” Christian points out. “I guess we can at least say that you've finally managed to get your sea legs! Oh, and...” He reaches under his shirt, and then he pulls out The Book of Libraries and hands it to me. “I kept this safe for you during the storm. Otherwise I think it might have ended up getting washed overboard.”
“Thank you!” I reply, brushing some dirt from the book's damp cover. “I was worried it might have been lost.”
“No problem,” he says, before pausing for a moment. “I know how important it is to you.”
“It's the reason I'm here at all,” I say with a sigh. “I'm starting to think that I might never get home. Don't be offended, but the thought of being stuck in the Great Library is terrifying. My family are a long way away, and I might never see them again.”
Looking past Christian, I see that Cromer is staring out at the ocean. I wait for him to say something, but he seems lost in thought.
“Where's home for you?” I ask finally.
He continues to watch the water for a moment, before turning to me as he suddenly realizes that I was talking to him.
“Home?” He hesitates, and he looks a little startled. “Oh, I don't really have a home. I grew up in a dead bird with about a thousand brothers and sisters, but eventually we all moved out. For my species, this concept of 'home' is a little difficult to understand. We just keep on going, and we never really look back. I guess the closest thing I have to a home is this big old lug I'm stuck to, and I'm really not sure that he feels the same way.”
“Maybe that's just how things are now,” I reply, feeling a flicker of fear in my chest. “Maybe I don't have a home anymore, either. Maybe I'm stuck here and I just have to find a place for myself, like Captain Obslath.”
“You're not stuck here,” Christian says firmly, reaching over and squeezing my hand. “We'll all get home eventually.”
Chapter Fifteen
One day later, as we finally step off the Paperossa's landing craft, I actually reach down and touch the sandy shore. My legs feel pretty wobbly after spending so long at sea, and I can't deny that I'm extremely glad that we're back on solid ground. Plus, my wounded leg is healing nicely, so it feels good to be able to walk without hobbling.
“This is the Encadian shoreline,” Captain Obslath tells us, “and from here it should only take you about two hours to walk to the site of Shadar. I still don't think that there's any need for you to go there, however. Are you sure the three of you would not prefer to join our crew?”
“I don't think I ever want to go on a boat again,” I reply.
“We have some pretty fun adventures,” he continues. “After we leave you here, we're heading off to the west, so that I can try to locate some T.S. Eliot. I've heard that some Rim Goblins have taken possession of a copy of his collected poems, and I'm very keen to add that book to my little collection. Of course, to get to the Rim Goblin settlement, we'll likely have to travel through Botch territory, and that will be something of a test for the men. Still, it will be good for them.” He pauses. “The point is that I could use the three of you. Even if you don't fancy an adventure, is there any chance I could pay you to come along?”
“Another time, perhaps,” Cromer tells him. “We have to reach Shadar.”
“Sorry,” I add. “Good luck, though.”
“Fair enough,” Captain Obslath says with a smile. “I shall be rather busy over the next few months, anyway. Everyone seems to have accepted me as human, but that doesn't mean there aren't disgruntled murmurings here and there. Once I've obtained the Eliot book, I'm going to have to find a grand quest, some way to prove to them all that I've still got it. To be honest, I was hoping for a break from the pirate life, but one can't duck out of these challenges, can one? Not if one is trapped in a land like the Great Library.”
“We should get going,” Cromer points out. “The sooner we get to Shadar, the sooner we can try to track down James Bartleby.”
“One more thing,” Captain Obslath says, reaching out and putting a hand on my shoulder as we turn to set off on our trek. “Despite everything I told you when you first came on-board, I've been thinking... In the unlikely event that you do make it back to London some day, would you mind doing me a favor? Could you see if any of my family might still be around? M
y wife must surely be dead by now, but I had two children and, well, they might have had children of their own by now.”
“Of course,” I reply. “What do you want me to tell them? The truth?”
“They'd never believe you,” he says, before slipping a silver ring from his finger and handing it to me, “unless you give that to them. It's my wedding ring, and it has my initials inside.”
“N. N.,” I read out loud.
“Norman Norman.”
“Norman Norman?” I reply, trying to work out why that name sounds familiar.
“What can I tell you?” he says with a shrug. “My parents were quirky. I'm sure you understand now why I had no trouble adopting the name Cab Obslath instead.” He takes a step back. “Tell them everything. Tell them that old Norman is now living a pirate's life in a land faraway. Tell them he never has a dull moment. If they don't believe you, that's their problem. And now, Alexandra, you really should catch up to your friends. Good luck on your journey to Shadar. When you find that it's just a big empty pit, don't say I didn't warn you!”
After saying goodbye to Captain Obslath, I hurry up the hill between these two shelves. As I reach Cromer and Christian, I look back one more time, and I see the landing craft heading back to the Paperossa. Even by the standards of the Great Library, that journey across the sea was pretty intense, but I can't help feeling just slightly proud as I notice the ship's three great masts rising up high into the morning sky. Honestly, if you didn't know, you'd never be able to tell that one of them had broken during the storm.
“Come on, Alex!” Cromer calls out, having stomped off ahead again. “Keep up!”
***
We walk for a couple of hours, barely stopping at all, along endless aisles. Finally, just as I think that my legs are about to fall off, we reach the top of a hill, and we stop to see that the shelves dip steeply down to follow the land into a dusty valley, and I see what looks like a vast hole in the ground with shelves crossing its top like bridges.