Alcatraz Versus the Scrivener's Bones

Old man, it said.

I assume you got my letter telling you that Attica was coming to the Library of Alexandria. By now you probably realize that we were both too late to stop him from doing something foolish. He always was an idiot.

I’ve confirmed that he gave up his soul, but for what purpose, I cannot fathom. Those blasted Curators won’t tell me anything useful. I’ve taken his possessions. It’s my right, whatever you may claim, as his wife.

I know you don’t care for me. I return the sentiment. I am sad to see Attica finally gone, though. He shouldn’t have had to die in such a silly way.

The Librarians now have the tools we need to defeat you. It’s a shame we couldn’t come to an agreement. I don’t care if you believe me about Attica or not. I thought I should leave this note. I owe him that much.

Shasta Smedry

I looked up from the note, frustrated.

There were still tears in Grandpa Smedry’s eyes, and he wasn’t looking at me. He just stared at the wall, eyes unfocused. “Yes, I should have grieved long ago. I’m late to that, it appears. Late indeed…”

Kaz read over my shoulder. “Nutmeg!” he swore, pointing at the note. “We don’t believe this, do we? Shasta’s a lying Librarian rat!”

“She’s not lying, Kazan,” Grandpa Smedry said. “At least not about your brother. The Curators confirmed it, and they cannot lie. Attica has become one of them.”

Nobody objected to Grandpa Smedry’s assertion. It was the truth. I could feel it. With the Tracker’s Lens, I could even see the place where my father’s tracks ended. My mother’s tracks, however, left by a different door.

The ground at my feet began to crack, my Talent sensing my frustration, and I felt like pounding on something. We’d come all this way, only to be turned away at the end. Why? Why had my father done something so foolish?

“He always was too curious for his own good,” Kaz said softly, laying a hand on Grandpa Smedry’s shoulder. “I told him it would lead him to a bad end.”

Grandpa Smedry nodded. “Well, he has the knowledge he always wanted. He can read book upon book, learn anything he wants.”

With that, he stood. We joined him, making our way out of the hallway. We walked through the central room and out into the stacks beyond, trailed by a couple of Curators who were—undoubtedly—hoping we’d make one last-minute mistake and lose our souls.

I sighed, then turned and gave one final glance at the place where my father had ended his life. There, above the doorway, I saw the scribbles. The ones scratched into the stone. I frowned, then pulled out the Translator’s Lenses and put them on. The message was simple, only one sentence long.

I am no t an idiot.

I blinked. Grandpa Smedry and Kaz were speaking softly about my father and his foolishness.

I am not an idiot.

What would prompt a person to give up his soul? Was unlimited knowledge really worth that? Knowledge that you couldn’t use? Couldn’t share?

Unless …

I froze, causing the others to stop. I looked right at a Curator. “What happens when you write something down while you’re in the library?”

The creature seemed confused. “We take the writing from you and copy it. Then we return the copy to you an hour later.”

“And if you were to write something right before you gave up your soul?” I asked. “What if you were a Curator by the time the copy came back?”

The Curator glanced away.

“You cannot lie!” I said, pointing.

“I can choose not to speak.”

“Not if property must be returned,” I said, still pointing. “If my father wrote something before he was taken, then you wouldn’t have had to give it to my mother unless she knew to ask for it. You do have to return it if I demand it. And I do. Give it to me.”

The Curator hissed. Then, all of those standing around us hissed. I hissed back at them.

I’m … uh, not sure why I did that.

Finally, a Curator floated forward, carrying a slip of paper in its translucent hand. “This doesn’t count as taking one of your books, does it?” I asked hesitantly.

“This is not ours,” the Curator said, throwing the paper at my feet.

As the others stood around me, confused, I snatched up the paper and read it. It wasn’t what I’d been expecting.