There’s a dreadful form of torture in the Hushlands, devised by the Librarians. Though this is supposed to be a book for all ages, I feel that it’s time to confront this disturbing and cruel practice. Somebody has to be brave enough to shine a light on it.
That’s right. It’s time to talk about after-school specials.
After-school specials are a type of television programming that the Librarians put on right when children get home from school. The specials are usually about some kid who is struggling with a nonsensical problem like bullying, peer pressure, or gerbil snorting. We see the kid’s life, his struggles, his problems – and then the show provides a nice, simple solution to tie everything up by the end.
The point of these programs, of course, is to be so blatantly awful and painful to watch that the children wish they were back in school. That way, when they have to get up the next morning and do long division, they’ll think: Well, at least I’m not at home watching that terrible after-school special.
I include this explanation here for all of you in the Free Kingdoms so that you’ll understand what I’m about to say. It’s very important for you to understand that I don’t want this book to sound like an after-school special.
I let my fame go to my head. The point of this book isn’t to show how that’s bad, it’s to show the truth about me as a person. To show what I’m capable of. That first day in Nalhalla, I think, says a lot about who I am.
I don’t even like hooberstackers.
Deep within the innards of Keep Smedry, we approached a room with six guards standing out front. They saluted Grandpa Smedry; he responded by wiggling his fingers at them. (He’s like that sometimes.)
Inside, we discovered a group of people in black robes who were polishing a large metal box.
‘That’s quite the box,’ I said.
‘Isn’t it, though?’ Grandpa Smedry said, smiling.
‘Shouldn’t we be summoning a dragon or something to take us to Crystallia?’
‘This will be faster,’ Grandpa Smedry said, waving over one of the people in robes. (Black robes are the Free Kingdoms’ equivalent of a white lab coat. Black makes way more sense – this way, when the scientists blow themselves up, at least the robes have a chance of being salvageable.)
‘Lord Smedry,’ the woman said. ‘We’ve applied for a Swap Time with Crystallia. Everything will be ready for you in about five minutes.’
‘Excellent, excellent!’ Grandpa Smedry said. Then his face fell.
‘What?’ I asked, alarmed.
‘Well, it’s just that . . . we’re early. I’m not sure what to think about that. You must be having a bad influence on me, my boy!’
‘Sorry,’ I said. It was hard to contain my anxiety. Why hadn’t I thought of going to help Bastille? Would I arrive in time to make a difference? If a train left Nalhalla traveling at 3.14 miles an hour and a train left Bermuda at 45 MHz, what time does the soup have pancakes?
‘Grandfather,’ I said as we waited. ‘I saw my mother today.’
‘Folsom mentioned that. You showed great initiative in following her.’
‘She’s got to be up to something.’
‘Of course she is, lad. Problem is, what?’
‘You think it might be related to the treaty?’
Grandpa Smedry shook his head. ‘Maybe. Shasta’s a tricky one. I don’t see her working with the Wardens of the Standard on one of their projects unless it were helping her own goals. Whatever those are.’
That seemed to trouble him. I turned back to the robed men and women. They were focused on large chunks of glass that were affixed to the corners of the metal box.
‘What is that thing?’ I asked.
‘Hum? Oh. Transporter’s Glass, lad! Or, well, that’s Transporter’s Glass at the corners of the box. When the right time arrives – the one we’ve scheduled with the engineers at a similar box up in Crystallia – both groups will shine brightsand on those bits of glass. Then the box will be swapped with the one over in Crystallia.’
‘Swapped?’ I said. ‘You mean we’ll get teleported there?’
‘Indeed! Fascinating technology. Your father helped develop it, you know.’
‘He did?’