Occasionally, I passed other hallways that branched off the first. They looked identical to the one I was walking in, and I soon realized that I had no idea which way I was going. I glanced backward, and was disappointed to realize that the only place in the Library that seemed clean of dust was the floor. There would be no footprints to guide me back the way I had come, and I had no bread crumbs to leave as a trail. I considered using belly-button lint, but decided that would not only be gross, but wasteful as well. (Do you have any idea how much that stuff is worth?)
Besides, there wouldn’t be much point in leaving a trail in the first place. I didn’t know where I was going, true, but I also didn’t know where I’d been. I sighed. ‘I don’t suppose there’s a map of this place anywhere?’ I asked, turning back to the Curator who followed a short distance behind.
‘Of course there is,’ he said in a phantom voice.
‘Really? Where is it?’
‘I can fetch it for you.’ The skull smiled. ‘You’ll have to check it out, though.’
‘Great,’ I said flatly. ‘I can give you my soul to discover the way out, then not be able to use the way out because you’d own my soul.’
‘Some have done so before,’ the ghost said. ‘Traveling the library stacks can be maddening. To many, it is worth the cost of their soul to finally see the solution.’
I turned away. The Curator, however, continued talking. ‘In fact, you’d be surprised the people who come here, searching for the solutions to simple puzzles.’ The creature’s voice grew louder as it spoke, and it floated closer to me. ‘Some old women grow very attached to a modern diversion known as the “Crossword Puzzle.” We’ve had several come here, looking for answers. We have their souls now.’
I frowned, eyeing the thing.
‘Many would rather give up what remains of their lives than live in ignorance,’ it said. ‘This is only one of the many ways that we gain souls. In truth, some do not care which book they get, for once they become one of us, they can read other books in the Library. By then, of course, their soul is bound here, and they can never leave or share that knowledge. However, the endless knowledge appeals to them.’
Why was it talking so loudly? It seemed to be pushing up against me a bit, its coldness prodding me on. As if it were trying to force me to walk faster.
In a moment I realized what was going on. The Curator was a fish. If that were the case, what were the shoes? (Metaphorically speaking, of course. Read back a few chapters if you’ve forgotten.)
I closed my eyes, focusing. There, I heard it. A quiet voice, calling for help. It sounded like Bastille.
I snapped my eyes open and ran down a side hallway. The ghost cursed in an obscure language – my Translator’s Lenses kindly let me know the meaning of the word, and I will be equally kind here in not repeating it, since it involved eggbeaters – and followed me.
I found her hanging from the ceiling between two pillars in the hallway, letting out a few curses of her own. She was tangled up in a strange network of ropes; some of them twisted around her legs, others held her arms. It seemed that her struggles were only making things worse.
‘Bastille?’ I asked.
She stopped struggling, silver hair hanging down around her face. ‘Smedry?’
‘How did you get up there?’ I asked, noticing a Curator hanging in the air upside down beside her. Its robe didn’t seem to respond to gravity – but, then, that’s rather common for ghosts, I would think.
‘Does it matter?’ Bastille snapped, flailing about, apparently trying to shake herself free.
‘Stop struggling. You’re only making it worse.’
She huffed, but stopped.
‘Are you going to tell me what happened?’ I asked.
‘Trap,’ she said, twisting about a bit. ‘I triggered a trip wire, and the next moment I was hanging up here. If that wasn’t bad enough, the burning-eyed freak here keeps whispering to me that he can give me a book that will show me how to escape. It’ll just cost my soul!’
‘Where’s your dagger?’ I asked.
‘In my pack.’
I saw it on the floor a short distance away. I walked over, watching out for trip wires. Inside, I found her crystalline dagger, along with some foodstuffs and – I was surprised to remember – the boots with Grappler’s Glass on the bottoms. I smiled.
‘I’ll be right there,’ I said, putting the boots on and activating the glass. Then, I proceeded to try walking up the side of the wall.
If you’ve never attempted this, I heartily recommend it. There’s a very nice rush of wind, accompanied by an inviting feeling of vertigo, as you fall backward and hit the ground. You also look something like an idiot – but for most of us, that’s nothing new.
‘What are you doing?’ Bastille asked.
‘Trying to walk up to you,’ I said, sitting up and rubbing my head.