Home > Alcatraz Versus the Scrivener's Bones (Alcatraz #2)(10)

Alcatraz Versus the Scrivener's Bones (Alcatraz #2)(10)
Author: Brandon Sanderson

Give them enough time, and they’ll turn any kid into one of them.

We entered the jungle.

‘Everyone remember to stay in sight of someone else in the group,’ Kaz said. ‘There’s no telling where we’ll leave you if you get separated!’

With that, Kaz pulled out a machete and began to cut his way through the undergrowth. I glanced back at the beach, bidding silent farewell to the translucent dragon, cracked from landing, its body slowly being buried in the sand from the rising tide. One wing still hung up in the air, as if in defiance of its death.

‘You were the most majestic thing I’d ever seen,’ I whispered. ‘Rest well.’ A little melodramatic, true, but it felt appropriate. Then I quickly rushed after the others, careful not to lose sight of Draulin, who walked in the rear.

The jungle was thick, and the canopy overhead made the darkness near absolute. Draulin pulled an antiquated-looking lantern from her pack, then tapped it with one finger. It started to glow, the flame coming to life without needing a match. Even with it, however, it felt creepy to be traveling through a dense jungle in the middle of the night.

In order to still my nerves, I moved to walk by Bastille. She, however, didn’t want to talk. I eventually worked my way up through the column until I was behind Kaz. I figured that he and I had started off on the wrong foot, and I hoped I could patch things up a bit.

Those of you who recall the events of the first book will realize that this was quite a change in me. For most of my life, I’d been abandoned by family after family. It was tough to blame them, however, since I’d spent my childhood breaking everything in sight. I’d gone on such a rampage that I would have made the proverbial bull in the proverbial china shop look unproverbially good by proverbial comparison. (Personally, I don’t even know how he’d fit through the door. Proverbially.)

Regardless, I had grown into the habit of pushing people away as soon as I got to know them – abandoning them before they could abandon me. It had been tough to realize what I was doing, but I was already starting to change.

Kaz was my uncle. My father’s brother. For a kid who had spent most of his life thinking that he had no living relatives, having Kaz think I was a fool was a big deal. I wanted desperately to show him I was capable.

Kaz glanced at me as he chopped at the foliage – though he only tended to cut away things up to his own height of four feet, leaving the rest of us to get branches in our faces. ‘Well?’ he asked.

‘I wanted to apologize for that whole midget thing,’

He shrugged.

‘It’s just that . . .,’ I said. ‘Well, I figured with all of the magic and stuff they have in the Free Kingdoms, they would have been able to cure dwarfism by now.’

‘They haven’t been able to cure stupidity, either,’ he said. ‘So I guess we won’t be able to help you.’

I blushed. ‘I . . . didn’t mean . . .’

Kaz chuckled, slicing off a couple of fronds. ‘Look, it’s all right. I’m used to this. I just want you to understand that I don’t need to be cured.’

‘But . . .,’ I said, trying hard to express what I felt without being offensive, ‘isn’t being short like you a genetic disease?’

‘Genetic, yes,’ Kaz said. ‘But is it disease just because it’s different? I mean, you’re an Oculator; that’s genetic too. Would you like to be cured?’

‘That’s different,’ I said.

‘Is it?’

I paused to think about it. ‘I don’t know,’ I finally said. ‘But don’t you get tired of being short?’

‘Don’t you get tired of being tall?’

‘I . . .’ It was tough to come up with an answer to that one. I really wasn’t all that tall – barely five feet, now that I’d launched into my teens. Still, I was tall compared with him.

‘Now, personally,’ Kaz continued, ‘I think you tall people are really missing out. Why the entire world would be a better place if you were all shorter.’

I raised an eyebrow.

‘You look doubtful,’ Kaz said, smiling. ‘Obviously you need to be introduced to The List!’

‘The List?’

From behind, I heard Australia sigh. ‘Don’t encourage him, Alcatraz.’

‘Hush, you!’ Kaz said, eyeing Australia and eliciting a bit of an eep from her. ‘The List is a time-tested and scientifically researched collection of facts that prove that short people are better off than tall ones.’

He glanced at me. ‘Confused?’

I nodded.

‘Slowness of thought,’ he said. ‘A common ailment of tall people. Reason number forty-seven: Tall people’s heads are in a thinner atmosphere than those of short people, so the tall people get less oxygen. That makes it so that their brains don’t work quite as well.’

With that, he chopped his way through the edge of the forest and walked out into a clearing. I stopped in the path, then glanced at Australia.

‘We’re not sure if he’s serious or not,’ she whispered. ‘But, he really does keep that List of his.’

After getting a glare from Bastille for pausing for so long, I rushed out into the clearing with Kaz. I was surprised to see that the jungle broke just a little further out, giving us a view of . . .

‘Paris?’ I asked in shock. ‘That’s the Eiffel Tower!’

‘Ah, is that what that is?’ Kaz asked, scribbling something on a notepad. ‘Great! We’re back in the Hushlands. Not as badly lost as I thought.’

‘But . . .,’ I said. ‘We were on another continent! How did we cross the ocean?’

‘We’re lost, kid,’ Kaz said, as if that explained everything. ‘Anyway, I’ll get us where we need to be. Always trust the short person to know his way! Reason number twenty-eight: Short people can find things easier and follow trails better because they’re closer to the ground.’

I stood, nearly dumbfounded. ‘But . . . there aren’t any jungles near Paris!’

‘He gets lost,’ Bastille said, walking up to me, ‘in some very incredible ways.’

‘I think this is the strangest Talent I’ve ever seen,’ I said. ‘And that’s saying a lot.’

She shrugged. ‘Didn’t yours break a chicken once?’

‘Good point.’

Kaz led us back to the trees, cutting us a half pathway. ‘So, your Talent can take you anywhere!’ I said to the short man.

He shrugged. ‘Why do you think I was on the Dragonaut? In case things went wrong, I was to get you and your grandfather out of the Hushlands.’

‘Why even send the ship, then? You could have come got me on your own!’

He snorted. ‘I have to know what to look for, Al. I have to have a destination. Australia had to come so that we could use Lenses to contact you, and we figured it was a good idea to bring a Knight of Crystallia for protection. Besides, my Talent can be a little . . . unpredictable.’

‘I think they all can,’ I said.

He chuckled. ‘Well, that’s the truth. Just hope you never have to see Australia after she’s just gotten up in the morning. Anyway, we figured that rather than taking a chance on my Talent – which has occasionally gotten me lost for weeks – we should bring the ship.’

‘So . . . wait,’ I said. ‘We could be walking like this for weeks?’

‘Maybe,’ Kaz said, parting some fronds, looking out. I peeked through beside him. What looked like a desert was sprawling out beyond us. He rubbed his chin in thought. ‘Walnuts,’ he swore. ‘We’re a bit off track.’ He let the fronds fall back into place and we continued walking.

Several weeks. My grandfather could be in danger. In fact, knowing Grandpa Smedry, he most definitely was in danger. Yet, I couldn’t get to him because I was traipsing through the jungle, occasionally peering out through another clearing at . . .

‘Dodger Stadium?’ I asked. ‘I know there aren’t any jungles there!’

‘Must be up past the nosebleed seats,’ Kaz said, taking another turn, leading us in a different direction. It was already growing light, and dawn would soon arrive. As we started again, Draulin marched up beside me. ‘Lord Alcatraz? Might I have a moment of your time?’

I nodded slowly. Being called ‘lord’ was still a little unsettling to me. What was required of me? Was I expected to sip tea and behead people? (If so, I certainly hoped I wouldn’t need to do both at the same time.)

What did it mean to be called ‘lord’? I’ll assume you’ve never had the honor, since I doubt any of you happen to be British royalty. (And, if by chance you are, then let me say, ‘Hello, Your Majesty! Welcome to my stupid book. Can I borrow some cash?’)

It seemed that the Free Kingdomers had unrealistic expectations of me. I wasn’t normally the type to doubt myself, but I’d rarely had a chance to be a leader. The more others started to look to me, the more I began to worry. What if I failed them?

‘My lord,’ Draulin said. ‘I feel the need to apologize. I spoke quite out of turn to you while we were fighting atop the Dragonaut.’

‘It’s all right,’ I said, shaking myself out of my moment of self-doubt. ‘We were in a tense situation.’

‘No, there is no excuse.’

‘Really,’ I said. ‘Anyone could have gotten snappish in a predicament like that.’

‘My lord,’ she said sternly, ‘a Knight of Crystallia isn’t just “anyone”. More is expected of us – not just in action, but in attitude as well. We don’t just respect men of your station, we respect and serve all people. We must always strive to be the best, for the reputation of the entire order depends on it.’

Bastille was walking just behind us. For some reason, I got the feeling that Draulin was preaching less to me, and more to her daughter. It seemed backhanded.

‘Please,’ Draulin continued. ‘I would be more at peace if you would chastise me.’

‘Uh . . . okay,’ I said. (How does one scold a Knight of Crystallia some twenty years your senior? ‘Bad knight’? ‘Go straight to bed without polishing your sword’?)

‘Consider yourself chastised,’ I said instead.

‘Thank you.’

‘Aha!’ Kaz called.

The line paused. Sunlight was beginning to peek through the canopy of leaves. Ahead, Kaz was looking out through some bushes. He flashed us a smile, then cut the bushes away with a swipe of the machete.

‘I knew I’d find my way!’ he said, gesturing out. I looked for the first time at the great Library of Alexandria – a place so entrenched in lore and mythology that I’d been taught about it even in Hushlander schools. One of the most dangerous buildings on the planet.

It was a one-room hut.

7

I am a fish.

No, really. I am. I have fins, a tail, scales. I swim about, doing fishy things. This isn’t a metaphor or a joke, but a real and honest fact. I am a fish.

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