Andrea and the other Senior Shelvers were in a huddle with Thomas a little way off, talking in low voices. I was leaning on the rail next to Andrew, along with the other Shelvers.
“They’ve been talking for ten minutes,” Andrew murmured to me. “What are they yakking about? Surely it can’t take that long to decide to help someone?”
“They’re trying to work out how,” Caroline said, leaning around Callum and
Belinda. “I don’t know how they’re going to manage it. One foot in the wrong place down there and we’ll have another bookslide on our hands.”
Belinda nodded. “They’re just going to have to wait it out, whoever they are.”
I stared at the tiled floor. A thought had hit me. But I had to be quick, or they’d stop me.
“Anna? Anna!” Andrew yelled as I swung myself over the rail and scrambled down the ladder. I heard more shouts from above as I climbed.
“Anna, don’t!”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Shelver Anna, get back here!”
But they didn’t try to haul me back with the rope, like I’d been afraid they would. That was a good sign.
I reached the end of the ladder, swung out, landed on the rail and caught my breath. Then I jumped, straight up.
Just under the ceiling of each level of the Library were bars, like beams or
scaffolding. I’d never understood why, but I’d never complained, either. I caught the bar just above me and began to swing myself forwards, until I was hanging over the two leaning shelves.
That was as far as my plan had gone. I’d kind of been hoping that there would be a convenient gap, or even that whoever was down there would be visible from this point. Should’ve known it wouldn’t be that simple.
I curled myself upwards and hooked my legs over the bar so I was hanging upside down. Then I began to pull at the rope until I had a few loops of slack over my arm.
Now for the tricky part. One wrong move and I’d bring a few tons of books down on myself.
I grabbed the bar, kicked my legs back and up and spun twice, then stopped and looked. Good. The rope was looped over the bar, tight enough to hold.
Slowly, I began to pay the rope out, lowering myself down until my feet were inches above the books.
There! A gap. Almost too small to fit through, I’d have to be even more careful than before.
Slowly, slowly...the books wobbled as I went past. I stopped dead until my heart slowed down. All right. It was all right. The books weren’t going to fall. I was going to be fine.
There was another terrifying moment as I touched down and the books under my feet shifted. But then they settled, and I started breathing again.
“Hello?” called a small voice. I’d been expecting it, but it still made me jump.
“Hello,” I said softly. “Don’t worry, I’m going to get you out of here.”
“Who are you?” It was a boy’s voice, quite posh and quite young – too young for a student, it sounded. And not as deep as it had been earlier, but maybe that was just a trick of the echoes.
“Shelver Anna,” I replied, although it wasn’t as if that would mean anything to him. “Keep talking, I’m going to follow your voice. But don’t move or you might bring more books down.”
The boy gave a short laugh. “Not much chance of that. My leg’s trapped.”
“Damn,” I muttered. That was going to make things even more difficult.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I bent down, pulled my knife out of my boot, and cut the rope. Still crouching down, I looked around. I was just by the fallen shelf, and there was enough space for me to crawl forwards. It was almost totally dark, but I could hear rough, panicky breathing up ahead.
“It’s all right, I’m nearly there,” I said. The space was opening out. Good sign, bad sign? I didn’t know. “So, you know my name. What’s yours?”
“Benedict.”
“Benedict? Sounds religious,” The words were out before I could stop them, and I grimaced. “Sorry. Didn’t mean anything by that.”
“It’s all right,” The voice was nearly a chuckle. “You’re right, as it happens.”
Good, he was calming down. That’d help-
My hand touched something cold and damp. I stopped, then felt around. A face, definitely a face. But not a living one.
“Benedict?” I called. There was a very slight shake in my voice.
“Yes?”
“Was there someone here with you when this happened?”
There was a very slight pause. “John. I’m sorry, I should’ve-”
“No – it’s fine,” I swallowed the bile back down. “You sound close, are you
nearby?”
“I’m right next to him. I’m holding my arm out-”
I reached forwards. My hand closed around his. “Got you. Right,” I crawled over poor John, as politely as I could, until I was sitting on my heels next to Benedict. “You said your leg was trapped?”
“Yes – um, I think it might be broken. Well, I don’t think, I know it is.”
“That’s not going to help,” I muttered under my breath.
“Sorry.”
“Angels above, don’t be sorry! We’ll get round it,” I looked around again, not that there was much point. I could see corners and shapes, but nothing more defined than that. “Which leg?”
“Oh – my left.”
“Right. I’ going to try and see if I can get it free. Sorry about this,” I added, as I slid my hand down his arm, along his side and down his leg. My hand hit books somewhere just above the knee. Big, heavy books, but books. Good. If it had been a shelf that had landed on his leg, I’d never have been able to shift it.
“Was it you earlier?”
“What?” I asked, distracted. I was tapping at the books now, trying to find one that was loose enough to move but that wouldn’t bring the rest down on top of us. I’d done it plenty of times before, but never when I couldn’t see anything, and never from underneath.
“I heard something earlier. It sounded like someone moving around.”
“Probably books shifting. I wouldn’t worry about it,” I found a book that felt loose, jiggled it.
Benedict screamed.
I’d heard pain like that before – when George, one of the old Shelvers, got trapped between two of the rolling stacks, or when Andrew had appendicitis and we had to rush him to the University on one of the trolleys. I’d never caused it, though. It made me feel sick to my stomach.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I don’t think I can do it without it hurting...hang on,” I’d had an idea. It’d work a lot better if I could see, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Reaching out, I tapped at the wall of books until I found another loose one. I pulled it out and wedged it under the book that was crushing Benedict’s leg.
“What were you doing here at this time, anyway?” I asked as I started feeling for another book. If I could keep him talking, it’d give him something else to think about.
“Oh – just researching,” Benedict said, a little too quickly.
“Oh, right? Just for fun? At three in the morning?”
“Well...argh!” Benedict yelled again as I slid the second book underneath the first.
“You don’t sound old enough to be a student.”
“I’m not,” Benedict muttered.
“So who are you?”
“I’m...” He paused and sighed. “I’m the Blessed.”
I tapped a book slightly too hard and made the whole pile jiggle, which scared me so much that I nearly forgot what I’d heard him say.
“The Blessed Benedict?”
“Yes,” Benedict mumbled.
“But you don’t sound any older than me!”
“You don’t have to be old, you just have to be holy. Soon after the old Blessed died I had a vision – I thought I did, anyway,” Benedict said, in a bitter voice.
&n
bsp; “How do you mean?”
“I don’t think it was a vision. Not the kind of vision they said it was afterwards, anyway. I was ill, and this figure appeared and spoke to me...” He sighed again. “But lately I’ve been thinking...maybe it was all set up.”
“Huh,” I said as I wedged a third book into the pile.
“What?”
“Well, I’ve always thought it’s all set up.”
“I’m sorry?”
“All of it. All that religion business,” It felt like I’d cleared enough space now. I shuffled backwards until I found Benedict’s shoulders. “Right, I’m going to see if I can pull you out to where the rope is.”
“Oh – um, right, sorry,” Benedict gave a short laugh. “Sorry, it’s just that you threw me a bit.”
“What, saying that it’s all made up?”
“Yes. I’ve never heard anyone say that before, not just out loud like that. No-one back at the Cathedral would dare,” Benedict said. “I got in enough trouble with the Superiors when I started wondering about my vision and whether it might have been a hallucination.”
I’d hooked my arms under Benedict’s shoulders, ready to start pulling, but what he’d just said had made something go click in my mind.
“Big trouble?”
“Well, as big as it can get for me, anyway. They’re not really allowed to contradict me, it could cause a schism.”
“And they wouldn’t want that,” I said.
“No.”
“It’d be much easier to quietly get rid of you,” I carried on. “Say, in a freak
accident. No-one’s fault, everyone’s very sad, and they don’t have to worry about
anything changing. They can just find a new Blessed who doesn’t ask so many questions.”
Benedict went very quiet. I took the opportunity to drag him backwards, over John, until we were underneath the rope.
“ARGH!”
“Sorry, but I’ve really got to get you out of here now,” I said, standing up and grabbing the rope. “As for what we’ll do after that, I don’t know, but when your dead friend doesn’t report back, whoever ordered this is going to come after you-”
“John had nothing to do with this!” Benedict snapped. “He tried to pull me out of the way!”
“Sure?”
“And he was standing behind me! He couldn’t have pushed the shelf over!”
I swore under my breath. “So he wasn’t alone, then. That explains the voice earlier. I knew it wasn’t you.”
“He was a good man! I trusted him!”
“Mm-hmm. I bet you trusted him so much that he was the only person you told about tonight.”
“I-” Benedict stopped. For a few minutes, he was completely silent. “I trusted him,” he said finally, in a very different voice.
“Mope later,” I said briskly. Harsh, but there wasn’t any time for sympathy now. “I’m going to climb up and pull out some more slack on the rope so you can reach it. Then...well, I just hope your arms are working better than your legs, ‘cos I’m not sure I can lift you.”
Benedict didn’t answer. I could see his silhouette now, here in the half-light. He looked like a huddled, abandoned child. Unfortunately, he was also quite an overgrown one.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” I said, and began to climb.
It had been harder work than I’d realised, moving Benedict even a little way. My arms and legs were tired, so I was climbing slower than usual. And my brain was frazzled with lack of sleep and the realisation that I’d got myself in the middle of a failed assassination. So I was almost at the top of the rope before I noticed the man.
He was dressed in a dark habit, like most of the men from the Cathedral. His face was battered, and his arms were covered in scrapes and bruises, but nothing looked broken, and he certainly wasn’t trapped. He was crouching on the bars just above my head, and there was a knife in his hand.
I froze. I didn’t know what to do. If I climbed back down, he’d cut the rope and we’d be trapped. If I carried on...well, he didn’t look like a reasonable man.
Then I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. A shape, swinging towards the bars over at the edge of the ceiling, landing with a loud thump. I couldn’t see the face, but I knew who it was. Andrew.
The man had turned when he’d heard the thud. He glanced down at me, then put the knife between his teeth, stood up and began to swing towards Andrew. Obviously he’d decided I was less of a threat.
Quickly, I scrambled up the rope, grabbed the bar and began to follow the man.
The Cathedral had come into my Library, they’d caused a bookslide, they’d put all of us in danger. I wasn’t going to let them hurt Andrew too.
He’d nearly reached him. I speeded up, swinging as fast as I could, while Andrew hung there, looking terrified.
Then I caught Andrew’s eye, and saw a tiny flicker of a wink.
The man stopped just in front of Andrew, let go of the bar with one hand, and took the knife out of his teeth, bringing his arm back to stab-
And Andrew swung to the side just as I bunched my legs up and kicked forwards, as hard as I could.
The man’s hand slipped. He flew forwards, arms windmilling, and fell.
For a couple of minutes, Andrew and I just hung there, staring down into the blackness. Then Andrew coughed.
“Dunno about you, but my arms are getting tired.”
I blinked, shook my head, and chuckled quietly. “Thought you were meant to be stronger than me?”
“I’m all right with books. It’s a bit trickier carrying myself.”
“Come on, then,” I turned and started back towards the rope.
With Andrew there, it was almost easy to get Benedict out from the bookslide. By that time a group of other Shelvers had climbed down, with more ropes and a sling.
“Took you long enough,” I said to Callum as we lifted Benedict into the sling.
“Thomas didn’t want to send us down. He thought you’d cause another bookslide and we’d all get caught in it,” Callum replied. “Angela persuaded him in the end.”
“Persuaded?”
“Shouted him down.”
“Sounds about right.”
We started moving forwards, all of us, like some kind of human train. Benedict groaned in pain as he joggled around.
“Don’t worry, mate, we’ll have you in the infirmary soon,” Callum said. “What were you doing here at this time of night, anyway?”
Benedict opened his mouth to answer.
“Don’t bother asking him,” I said quickly. “Too many books to the head. He can’t remember a thing.”
I saw Benedict stare at me. I winked at him.
“But you know what?” I added. “Once his leg’s healed up, I think he’ll make a brilliant Shelver.”
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