Equal Rites

Esk had never seen more than one book at a time and so the library was, for all she knew, just like any other library. True, it was a bit odd the way the floor seemed to become the wall in the distance, and there was something strange about the way the shelves played tricks on the eyes and seemed to twist through rather more dimensions than the normal three, and it was quite surprising to look up and see shelves on the ceiling, with the occasional student wandering unconcernedly among them.

The truth was that the presence of so much magic distorted the space around it. Down in the stacks the very denim, or possibly flannelette, of the universe was tortured into very peculiar shapes. The millions of trapped words, unable to escape, bent reality around them.

It seemed logical to Esk that among all these books should be one that told you how to read all the others. She wasn’t sure how to find it, but deep in her soul she felt it would probably have pictures of cheerful rabbits and happy kittens on the cover.

The library certainly wasn’t silent. There was the occasional zip and sizzle of a magical discharge, and an octarine spark would flash from shelf to shelf. Chains clinked, faintly. And, of course, there was the faint rustle of thousands of pages in their leather-bound prisons.

Esk made sure no one was paying her any attention and pulled at the nearest volume. It sprang open in her hands, and she saw gloomily that there were the same unpleasant types of diagram that she had noticed in Simon’s book. The writing was entirely unfamiliar, and she was glad about that—it would be horrible to know what all those letters, which seemed to be made up of ugly creatures doing complicated things to each other, actually meant. She forced the cover shut, even though the words seemed to be desperately pushing back. There was a drawing of a creature on the front; it looked suspiciously like one of the things from the cold desert. It certainly didn’t look like a happy kitten.

“Hallo! Esk, isn’t it? H-how d-did you get h-here?”

It was Simon, standing there with a book under each arm. Esk blushed.

“Granny won’t tell me,” she said. “I think it’s something to do with men and women.”

Simon looked at her blankly. Then he grinned. Esk thought about the question a second time.

“I work here. I sweep up.” She waved the staff in explanation.

“In here?”

Esk stared at him. She felt alone, and lost, and more than a little betrayed. Everyone seemed to be busy living their own lives, except her. She would spend the rest of her life cleaning up after wizards. It wasn’t fair, and she’d had enough.

“Actually I don’t. Actually I’m learning to read so I can be a wizard.”

The boy regarded her through his damp eyes for some seconds. Then he gently took the book out of Esk’s hands and read its title.

“Demonylogie Malyfycorum of Henchanse thee Unsatyfactory. How did you think you could learn to r-read this?”

“Um,” said Esk, “Well, you just keep trying until you can, don’t you? Like milking, or knitting, or . . . .” Her voice faded away.

“I don’t know about that. These books can be a bit, well, aggressive. If you d-don’t be careful they start reading you.”

“What do you mean?”

“T-they ssss—”

“—say—”said Esk, automatically.

“—that there was once a wwww—”

“—wizard—”

“—who started to r-read the Necrotelecomnicon and let his m-mind wwwwww—”

“—wander—”

“—and next morning they f-found all his clothes on the chair and hhis hat on t-top of them and the b-book had—”

Esk put her fingers in her ears, but not too hard in case she missed anything.

“I don’t want to know about it if it’s horrid.”

“—had a lot more pages.”

Esk took her fingers out of her ears. “Was there anything on the pages?”

Simon nodded solemnly. “Yes. On every sssingle one of ththem there www—”

“No,” said Esk. “I don’t even want to imagine it. I thought reading was more peaceful than that, I mean, Granny read her Almanack every day and nothing ever happened to her.”

“I d-daresay ordinary tame www—”

“—words—”

“—are all right,” Simon conceded, magnanimously.

“Are you absolutely certain?” said Esk.

“It’s just that words can have power,” said Simon, slotting the book firmly back on its shelf, where it rattled its chains at him. “And they do say the p-pen is mightier than the sss—”

“—sword,” said Esk. “All right, but which would you rather be hit with?”

“Um, I d-don’t think it’s any use m-me t-telling you you shouldn’t be in here, is it?” said the young wizard.

Esk gave this due consideration. “No,” she said, “I don’t think it is.”

“I could send for the p-porters and have you t-taken away.”

“Yes, but you won’t.”

“I just d-don’t www—”

“—want—”

“—you to get hurt, you see. I r-really don’t. This can b-be a ddddangerou—”

Esk caught a faint swirling in the air above his head. For a moment she saw them, the great grey shapes from the cold place. Watching. And in the calm of the Library, when the weight of magic was wearing the Universe particularly thin, they had decided to Act.