‘Are you sure a hamlet isn’t a very small pig?’ Aydee said.
‘Nah,’ Kaz said. ‘That’s a hammer.’
Bastille sighed, then hurried off, her dark uniform making her blend into the night. The rest of us followed more slowly, Kaz putting on a pair of rugged, aviator-style sunglasses that were obviously Warrior’s Lenses. Aydee got out her own, though hers had yellow rims with flowers painted on them. Uncertain what else to do, I put the Bestower’s Lenses back on, though I made certain not to look directly at Kaz or Aydee.
We climbed down from the rim, moving along a game trail through the dense jungle. The Librarian army didn’t seem to be anticipating any danger from outside, and most of their attention was focused on Tuki Tuki. Still, guard posts were spaced around the perimeter, each lit by a bonfire. We followed Bastille – who was amazingly quiet as she moved through the underbrush – as she rounded the camp, obviously looking for a place that we could sneak through without causing too much of a disturbance.
She eventually stopped, hiding in the shadows just outside the camp near a watch fire that had been allowed to burn low. It was mostly just coals now, a couple of tired-looking Librarian guards standing watch. They were beefy men, the type with square jaws and stoopid names like ‘Biff,’ or ‘Chad,’ or ‘Brandon.’ They had on white shirts with pocket protectors and pink bow ties but had enormously strong bodies. Like someone had combined a math nerd and a football player into one unholy hybrid.
Bastille took a deep breath, then dashed across the trampled ground with blurring speed. The Librarians barely had time to stand up straight, squinting into the darkness before she was upon them.
Now, in case you somehow slept through the other three books, let me explain something. Bastille is fast. Like, cheetah on a sugar buzz fast. She not only has those Warrior’s Lenses but she’s also a Crystin. Every Knight of Crystallia has a little crystal grown into the skin at the back of their neck – that crystal comes from the Worldspire itself and connects every Crystin to all of the others. They all share a little of their skills and abilities with the other knights.
This, in turn, turns every shattering one of them into crazy insane supersoldiers, even the thirteen-year-old girls. Especially the thirteen-year-old girls. (Every teenage girl has a crazy insane supersoldier inside of them, waiting to get out. If you don’t believe me, it probably means you don’t have any teenage sisters. Particularly not two who both want to wear the same necklace to the prom.)
Bastille didn’t even need to get out her sword. She made the first guard double over with a punch to the stomach, then grabbed his shoulder and used it to steady herself as she spun, kicking the other guard in the neck, dropping him to the ground. She followed this by punching the first guard square in the forehead.
Both men fell to the ground, silent. Bastille glanced back toward where we were hiding. ‘I think we ought to get our roads cobbled!’ she whispered. Then – I could see her sighing visibly – she added, ‘Oink oink oink.’
I smiled as the three of us trotted up to the watch fire. Kaz had out his sling, but hadn’t needed it. The two guards were out cold. Bastille waited, tense, glancing toward the two nearest watch fires – one in the distance to either side of us. The guards at them didn’t seem to have noticed us.
‘Nice work, Bastille,’ Kaz said, inspecting the guards, setting aside their futuristic rifles. Like most Free Kingdomers, he didn’t find guns and other ‘primitive’ weapons to be very useful.
I, on the other hand, had watched enough action movies to know that if you’re going to sneak through the middle of an enemy army, a gun can be a pretty cool thing to have. So I reached down and picked up one of the rifles.
‘Alcatraz!’ Bastille said. ‘Put that down! Your Talent!’
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’ve learned to control it. Look, the gun isn’t even falling apart.’
Indeed, it remained in one perfect piece. Bastille relaxed as I lifted the gun, placing it against my shoulder, barrel toward the air.
And – as if to prove me wrong – I felt a little jolt as my Talent was engaged. The gun didn’t fall apart, however.
It just fired. Shooting directly into the air with an extremely loud cracking noise, blasting a glowing ball of light into the sky.
Shocked, I dropped the gun. It hit the ground, going off again, shooting another glowing ball out into the forest.
The black night was completely still for a moment. And then, a loud blaring alarm noise began to echo through the camp.
‘Frailty,’ Bastille said with a sigh, ‘thy name is Alcatraz.’
Act V, Scene III
The following chapter introduction is an except from Alcatraz Smedry’s bestselling book, How to Sound Really Smart in Three Easy Steps.
STEP ONE: Find an old book that everyone has heard of but nobody has read.
The clever writers know that literary allusions are useful for lots of reasons other than giving you stuff to write when you run out of ideas. They can also make you look way more important. What better way to seem intelligent than to include an obscure phrase in your story? It screams, ‘Look how smart I am. I’ve read lots of old books.’
STEP TWO: Skim through that old play or document until you find a section that makes no sense whatsoever.
Shakespeare is great for this for one simple reason: None of what he wrote makes any sense at all. Using confusing old phrases is important because it makes you look mysterious. Plus, if nobody knows what the original author meant, then they can’t complain that you used the phrase wrong. (Shakespeare, it should be noted, was paid by other authors to write gibberish. That way, when they wanted to quote something that didn’t make sense, they just had to reach for one of his plays.)
STEP THREE: Include a quote from that play or old document in an obvious place, where people will think they’re smart for spotting it.
Note that you get bonus points for changing a few of the words to make a clichéd turn of phrase, as it will stick in people’s minds that way. Reference the last sentence of the previous chapter for an example.
Note that if you aren’t familiar with Shakespeare, you can always use Greek philosophers instead. Nobody knows what the heck they were talking about, so talking about them in your books is a great way to pretend to be smart.