Alcatraz Versus the Knights of Crystallia

Fortunately, it worked. The breaking power moved through the wall like ripples on a lake. The lamps on the walls shattered.

And everything plunged into darkness.

I leaped forward and snatched the book, which was being passed between Shasta and Fitzroy. Voices called out in shock and surprise, and I distinctly heard my mother curse. I rushed for the doorway, bursting out into the lit hallway beyond and quickly taking off my Disguiser’s Lenses.

There was a sudden crash from inside the room. Then a face appeared from the darkness. It was a Librarian thug. I cringed, preparing for a fight, but the man suddenly grimaced in pain and fell to the ground. Bastille jumped over him as he groaned and grabbed his leg; her brother, the prince, ran along behind her.

I ushered Rikers through the door, relieved that Bastille had understood my hand gestures. (Though I used the universal signal for “Wait here for a sec, then run for the door,” that signal also happens to be the universal hand sign for “I need a milk shake; I think I’ll find one in that direction.”)

“Where’s Folsom—” I began, but the critic soon appeared, carrying Rikers’s novel in his hand, prepared to open the cover and start dancing at a moment’s notice. He puffed, coming through the door as Bastille knocked aside another thug who was clever enough to make for the light. Only a few seconds had passed, but I began to worry. Where were Sing and Himalaya?

“I give this escape a three and a half out of seven and six-eighths, Alcatraz,” Folsom said nervously. “Clever in concept, but rather nerve-wracking in execution.”

“Noted,” I said tensely, glancing about. Where were those soldiers of ours? They were supposed to be out in the stairwell here, but it was empty. In fact, something seemed odd about the stairwell.

“Guys?” Rikers said. “I think—”

“There!” Bastille said, pointing as Sing and Himalaya appeared from the shadows of the room. The two rushed through the door, and I slammed it closed, using my breaking power to jam the lock.

“What was that crash?” I asked.

“I tripped into a couple rows of books,” Sing said, “throwing them down on the Librarians to keep them distracted.”

“Smart,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

We began to rush up the stairwell, the wooden steps creaking beneath our feet. “That was risky, Smedry,” Bastille said.

“You expected less of me?”

“Of course not,” she snapped. “But why hand the book over to the Librarian?”

“I got it back,” I said, holding it up. “Plus, now we know for sure that this is the volume they wanted.”

Bastille cocked her head. “Huh. You are clever sometimes.”

I smiled. Unfortunately, the truth is, none of us were being very clever at that moment. None of us but Rikers, of course—and we’d chosen to ignore him. That’s usually a safe move.

Except of course when you’re rushing up the wrong stairwell. It finally dawned on me, and I froze in place, causing the others to stumble to a halt.

“What is it, Alcatraz?” Sing asked.

“The stairs,” I said. “They’re wooden.”

“So?”

“They were stone before.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say!” Prince Rikers exclaimed. “I wonder how they turned the steps to a different material.”

I suddenly felt a sense of horror. The door was just above us. I walked up nervously and pushed on it.

It opened into a medieval-looking castle chamber completely different from the one that had held our soldiers. This room had red carpeting, library stacks in the distance, and was filled with a good two hundred Librarian soldiers.

“Shattering Glass!” Bastille cursed, slamming the door in front of me. “What’s going on?”

I ignored her for the moment, rushing back down the steps. The Librarians locked inside the archives room were pounding on the door, trying to break it down. Now that I paused to consider, the landing right in front of the door looked very different from the way it had before. It was far larger, and it had a door at the left side.

As the others piled down the steps after me, I threw open the door to my left. I stepped into an enormous chamber filled with wires, panes of glass, and scientists in white lab coats. There were large containers on the sides of the room. Containers that I’m sure were filled with brightsand.

“What in the Sands is going on?” Folsom demanded, peeking in behind me.

I stood, stunned. “We’re not in the same building anymore, Folsom.”

“What?”

“They swapped us! The archive filled with books—the entire glass room—they swapped it for another room using Transporter’s Glass! They weren’t digging a tunnel to get in, they were digging to the corners so they could affix glass there and teleport the room away!”

It was brilliant. The glass was unbreakable, the stairwell guarded. But what if you could take the whole room and replace it with another one? You could search out the book you needed, then swap the rooms back, and nobody would be the wiser.