The secret library deser.., p.6
The Secret Library: Desert of Ash, page 6
“Letter?” asked Lilly.
“I only know him through letters. Fis has been delivering letters to me since I was old enough to read. It was very confusing when I realized that the grandfather in the antiques store and the one in the letters were the same person. I had to keep it to myself, though.”
“Do you have any way of knowing where to find him?” I asked.
James just shrugged.
Lilly started, shocked by something out in the wastes. “Was that always there?” she asked, pointing.
I looked in the direction, and saw, standing in a sea of gray, a golem. I took a step towards it. The golem was one of the golems that Elaine had used when she first tried to seize power over everything in the multiverse. That was back when Elaine and Vicious were one person, one complicated, flawed, human girl.
This golem had always creeped me out. It was left here after Elaine’s assault, and the Librarian thought it fitting as an ornament.
“Pretty tough to survive a fire of this intensity,” said James.
“I feel like it’s looking at me,” said Lilly. “I swear it wasn’t standing there a moment ago.”
I frowned. I hadn’t seen the golem either, but was not yet willing to believe that it suddenly appeared. I was upset. Perhaps I just missed it?
The golem’s eyes sprung to life in a soft purple glow.
The hairs stood up on the back of my neck, and we all took an involuntary step back.
“Sheesh,” said Lilly. “Wasn’t expecting that!”
“No,” I said. The golem was supposed to be dormant, supposed to be no more than a hollow stone shell. What was going on?
The golem took a step forward. “Lilly?” it said, its voice as lyrical as a crypt.
Lilly’s face drained of blood and her lips parted. “No,” she said.
“What?” I asked, my heart racing now.
“No, it can’t be,” affirmed Lilly. She was shaking now. I had never seen her like this before.
“Lilly! What is it?”
“It’s me,” said the golem, its voice hollow and empty. “It’s Darcy.”
“No!” shouted Lilly. “I said no, and I mean no!”
“I thought you died,” said James. “Merlin said you died.”
“I-” started the golem. “I am dead.”
“Are you?” asked Lilly angrily, sarcastically. “Because I can’t take this anymore!”
“My soul has been bound to-”
“I don’t want to hear it!” Lilly stormed up to the golem. “Now you are dead, now you are alive, now I don’t remember you, now I fall apart without you. I can’t take it!”
“Lilly,” I said in a vain effort to comfort her.
She whacked a fist into the golem’s stony chest, wincing in pain as her soft human flesh thudded into the solid rock of the golem. Curling up her nose, she punched him again with her other fist. Her expression then twisted and contorted, and she fell into Darcy’s arms, weeping. Darcy closed his massive arms around her, bowing his head, his face utterly expressionless and yet somehow conveying great pain.
James and I just stood there, as waves of grief issued from Lilly’s heart.
“Fascinating,” said James after a while.
My head snapped his way, utterly baffled by his comment.
“I didn’t think this sort of thing was possible,” he explained. “My grandfather must have actually found your real soul in the afterlife, not some echo from an ancient book, but your real soul. It was his work, was it not?”
Darcy looked at the boy.
“He means Mr. O’Connor,” I said. “This is his grandson, James.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” said Darcy. “But no, this was not your grandfather’s doing. I was restored by Elaine.”
“Oh,” said James, somewhat crestfallen.
My heart skipped a beat at the mention of that name, but I quickly recovered. “We were hoping to find him,” I said. “And the Librarian,” I added, almost afraid to ask after her lest the truth was too much to bear.
“Come,” said Darcy. “It is not safe out here in the wastes.”
“But the Librarian?” I asked. Why wouldn’t he just say?
“She is alive,” said Darcy.
His tone was impossible to read, but it sent my heart into a spin of hope and despair. All I knew was that I needed to be by her side and soon.
Darcy wiped a tear from Lilly’s face with a massive cold finger.
“We mustn’t linger,” he said.
Lilly nodded and pulled away from the monster that was once her lost love.
***
As we wandered the endless gray expanse, I began to notice that the fire was not uniform in its destruction. The desert gave way to skeletal forests of burnt out bookshelves. Soon, they were towering over us, always threatening to collapse.
Darcy was silent as he strode through the ash, leaving massive footprints in his wake. I didn’t know how to feel towards him and didn’t quite believe that this was really Darcy. I mean, I didn’t think he meant any harm, but how could that boy I knew with that scruffy hair and grim expression be this ghost? This haunted statue?
I tried not to think about it.
“So this used to all be books,” James whispered to me as we walked. “It must have been marvelous to behold.”
“It was,” I said, my tone even. James seemed to have trouble picking up on other people's emotions.
“We are going to have our work cut out for us if we are to restore this place,” said the boy.
I didn’t really feel like replying to that comment.
“That’s odd,” he then said.
Unlike with his previous attempts at conversation, there was something in James’ tone that made me turn.
There, quite far off in the distance, was a glowing shape. It was drifting through the destruction, weaving from shelf to shelf.
“Do not look at it,” said Darcy flatly.
“What is it?” I asked.
“As I said, the wastes are dangerous. Those wisps are the worst of all.”
“Right,” I said, pulling my attention reluctantly away from the strange apparition.
Our journey through the endless gray seemed to take hours. I was dimly aware of my anxiety around getting home in time for dinner. I knew it was silly, knew that I would be lucky if my world even survived the week, and yet I couldn’t help but feel those strange, almost alien concerns move through my nervous system. The thought made me smile incongruently.
“I see something,” said Lilly. It was the first she had spoken since she collapsed into Darcy’s embrace. She seemed delicate.
“The oasis,” said Darcy.
In the distance, I could just make out a splash of color and light breaking up the monotony.
“Saved from the fire?” asked James.
“Yes,” said Darcy grimly. “For now.”
As we got closer, I started to get an appreciation for just how vast this oasis was. Within its boarders, The Library I had known so well seemed to have been preserved. Towering shelves, patches of greenery, stairs curling up into the sky. This all should have made me happy, but only served to remind me of all that was lost.
It soon became apparent that there were people moving about beneath the shelves. Structures had been built with whatever could be found, makeshift shelters for whoever it was that had wound up here, in the center of all things.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“Refugees,” said Darcy. “Do not be frightened.”
As much as I wanted to say that I wasn’t frightened, it simply wasn’t true. People weren’t supposed to be in a place like this. It went against the very spirit of The Library. Though it felt wrong, I could see that these people had suffered. As we crossed from the ashy wastes into onto the burgundy tiles of The Library, several of these people looked up at me, curious and afraid. They were not all human beings, and most of them belonged to worlds I had never visited before. It was an eclectic mix of survivors, waiting for the end of time.
I searched rapidly, looking for some sign of the Librarian. I didn’t know what I expected, but distress was taking hold of me. There were crowds of people, but no Librarian. The one person I needed to see, and she was nowhere to be found. Was she sick? Was she dying? Lying in some nook somewhere, her lungs blackened with ash and her breathing shallow? I couldn’t do this alone. I needed her.
There was a thud as a massive shape fell from some bookshelf high above.
“What I tell you, yer naughty varlets!” boomed a Scottish voice.
There was a group of creatures that looked like otters, only they were dressed in clothes and playing with wooden swords as they danced among the books.
“Yer not to climb up near the books! What if something were to happen to ye? Or worse, the books?!” she continued.
My heart swelled. “Librarian?” I ventured.
The eight-foot gorilla turned about faster than anything of that size really had the right. Her eyes landed on me, unbelieving, and her expression morphed into a gargantuan grin.
“Oh my,” she said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I soon discovered that receiving a bear hug from a gorilla is a crushing experience.
“You are actually here!” said the Librarian.
I tried to reply, but was having difficulty getting enough oxygen.
“How is it possible? I thought you were lost forever! And I have to say, I was not looking forward to trying to train a new Keeper during all of this. Not saying that’s the reason I’m happy to see you of course.”
“Grghgr,” I ventured.
“I didn’t quite hear you, love. Poor thing, have you had a long journey?”
“You are crushing me,” I managed.
“Crushing?” puzzled the Librarian. “Oh gracious, I am sorry. I forget how very small you are. Goodness, you are covered in soot. Head to toe.”
I looked at the Librarian sheepishly, half expecting her to tell me off for traipsing the ash into The Library.
“Oh, I am so happy to see you,” exploded the Librarian. Then she started to cry.
“It’s alright,” I said.
“I just thought that - and with The Library in the state it is - I have help but -”
“I’m here now,” I said. “And happy to see you up and about. I had feared for the worst.”
“Afraid for me?” asked the Librarian, baffled. “I’m made of tougher stuff than all that,” she said defensively. “Not about to slip away, not just yet.”
“That’s very good to hear,” I said. “I can’t do this alone.”
The Librarian’s expression dropped a little at that comment, but she rallied. “Right you are,” she said, putting on her best keep calm and carry on face. “I see you have met with our newest abomination unto nature,” she said, smirking at Darcy.
Lilly looked confused at this remark. I think Darcy looked sad, but it was just so hard to tell.
“Just glad to have him back,” said Lilly, hugging the statue. It did not look comfortable.
“And who might this be?” asked the Librarian, looking at James with some disdain.
“Hello, Miss,” said James. “James, Miss.”
“Miss, is it?” asked the Librarian.
“I’m Mr. O’Connor’s grandson,” said James.
“He’s the reason we got our memories back,” I explained.
James blushed at this. “I didn’t do much,” he said.
“Didn’t do much?” asked the Librarian. “Only restored the senses to the greatest Keeper this library has ever known right at the multiverse’s hour of most need. Young man, if we were the sorts to give out medals, why, we would owe you several, to be sure.”
James didn’t seem to know what to say to that.
“He also stalked us,” said Lilly. “And did a very good job of it too, I might add. He should get something for that.”
I noticed Darcy glance at James. James withered under that un-dead stare.
Being a statue somehow made Darcy even more Darcy-like.
“My grandfather,” ventured James, “he stopped replying to my letters.”
The Librarian’s expression fell once more. “I think you had better come with me, lad,” she said.
We followed her further into the oasis. There were hundreds of people here, perhaps thousands, all doing their best to try and get on with living in the face of imminent and absolute destruction. Somehow, they managed to find moments to laugh, to gossip, even to sing. But it was clearly not all cheer. There were small hints here and there: a father comforting his son, a mother limping on a damaged leg, a child seemingly alone of all his species trying to fit in with some human kids.
Towering overhead were rows and rows of books. Perhaps the last books in all the multiverse. They were precious, more precious than any books ever were before. The refugees were respectful around the books, the Librarian had seen to that, but I could sense the underlining tension between the people trying to live beneath these shelves, and the books that needed to be preserved at all cost.
“Just through here,” said the Librarian as she ushered us into a makeshift tent.
Ducking inside, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light.
The Librarian moved softly towards a lounger where a figure was lying slightly propped up. “You have some visitors,” she said. “Alex is here, and Lilly. And there is another with them who says he is your grandson.”
“James?” croaked a voice as thin as paper and as dry as the ashen wastes. “My boy. Let me see you.”
Mr. O’Connor beckoned with a bony finger. He looked so frail, like he might just dissolve into nothing with the faintest breeze. Never before had I seen a face so wrinkled and worn.
“Grandfather,” said James as he approached. He fell to one knee, taking the old man’s hand. “What has happened to you?”
Mr. O’Connor began to laugh. It was a labored, genuine laugh, which soon dissolved into a bout of coughing. “Everything has happened to me,” he said at last. “That, my boy, is part of the problem.”
“He is very old, child,” said the Librarian kindly. “Most humans don’t live so long as he has.”
“This damn body is finally letting me down. Darcy there gets all the luck. Never could get the right friends in high places. Or was it the lower places, eh Darcy?”
Darcy did not move.
“Alex and Lilly,” Mr. O’Connor then said, looking at us with clouded eyes. “It seems like just yesterday that I hosted you at Camelot. Those were the days. You know, I actually convinced them all that my name was Merlin. Imagine that! Just glad I never ran into the real Merlin.”
“He is not quite what you would expect,” I said, recalling the time I encountered King Arthur’s most tolerated wizard.
“Met him, did you? Shouldn’t be surprised.” Mr. O’Connor spoke quickly, but breathlessly. It was like he wanted to say as much as he could before he was finally silent forever.
Light erupted from behind us as the curtain to the tent opened and then closed. An imposing figure stepped in. It took me a moment to realize they had wings.
“Librarian, we have matters to discuss,” said the figure, seemingly unaware that anyone else was present in the tent.
“Can it wait a moment?” asked the Librarian. “Our Keeper is back, and she hasn’t even had a cup of tea yet.”
The figure deigned to look on me. Her gaze was cold and judging. “Hello, Alex. Good to see that you are not dead.”
It was then that I realized who had just walked in.
“Mary?” I asked, recalling the little girl who had been possessed by a death god. I remembered that we saved her world, but when we left her, well, she was not in a good way. This woman was an adult, perhaps in her mid-thirties.
“The same,” said Mary before turning to the Librarian. “Now, these matters. I believe they are of greater import than-” she curled up the corner of her lip - “tea.”
“Interesting,” croaked a voice.
The sound took me off guard, and I found myself gasping.
“What on earth is that?” asked Lilly, pointing to a glass jar around Mary’s neck. It was not large, and it looked like there was some creature inside.
“Don’t you recognize me?” croaked the creature.
I stepped close, peering into the jar. It was dark and difficult to make out what I was looking at.
“I will ask you not to tap the glass,” said the creature.
“Tap it all you like,” grunted Mary.
“Kuyr?” I asked. “You captured him?”
“Indeed,” said Mary. “He has difficulty destroying worlds when he is a jar. I keep a close eye on him.”
“And your wings?” I asked.
“Let’s just say that while Kuyr may be bottled up, his power isn’t going to waste,” she said.
“You are a death god?” Lilly asked Mary.
“Not another one,” said Mr. O’Connor.
“Please,” said James, getting to his feet and putting his arms out in front of his grandfather, as if to shield him from Mary. “Don’t take him.”
“I’m not interested in the stupid old man,” said Mary with a snort. “In case you hadn’t noticed, children, existence is on a knife edge. We do not have time for frivolity.”
“Might as well all be over if we have no time for frivolity,” muttered Lilly. “Frivolity is my new word,” she added.
Mary set her lips and looked like she was about to hit someone.
“Frivolity,” said Lilly again. Defiantly.
Fortunately for Lilly, Mary was prevented from responding by the entrance of a halfling. He was dressed all in green and was completely out of breath.
“Deesel? What’s the matter?” asked the Librarian.
“It’s my brother, sir,” struggled the halfling. “He has gone out into the wastes. Said he wanted to find our homeland. I tried to tell him, I tried to say that our world is gone but-”
Mary cursed.
“How long does he have?” asked the Librarian.
“Alone?” asked Mary. “Not long.” The death god rounded on the refugee, menacing and terrible. “I gave the order that questing was to cease,” she growled.
