The Cornerstone (26 page)

Amanda winced as he slammed her into their conservatory.

Oh God, he’s going to kill her.

She was absolutely sure of it.

There was a sex fiend in her garden about to do horrible things to a defenceless woman - just like in that video she’d watched the day the crime prevention man had come in to work.

She had to do something!

The back garden didn’t offer much in the way of weaponry - either melee based or ballistic - but what it did have were several old toilets Peter amused himself planting flowers in. Most of these were full of dying or dead plants, but there was one near her feet that Peter had emptied out just before flying to Malaysia.

Three years of obsessive gym attendance finally paid off in a few seconds as Amanda heaved the toilet bowl into her arms, staggered over to the conservatory and rammed it down onto the attacker’s head, issuing a scream of sisterly rage as she did.

That about did it for the Dweller in Elijah’s body. It had been abused and beaten ever since it had arrived on this nasty little rock.

It’d been thrown across a library, trapped in a shrieking metal box with wheels, hit with a garden play set and finally… brained by an Armitage Shanks.

If there were ever a good time to give up the ghost, this was it.

Existing as a non-corporeal entity in a cold, tractless void may have its drawbacks, but you were never likely to get a toilet dropped on your head.

Imelda rubbed her throat and tried to catch her breath while Amanda stepped back to let the pole-axed Arma crash to the ground.

 ‘Thank you,’ Imelda gasped.

‘Er… not a problem,’ Amanda replied. ‘Are you ok?’

‘Oh yes, I should say so.’ Imelda tried to tuck her errant hair back. ‘Your timing was perfect.’

‘Who is he?’ Amanda looked back down at toilet head.

Imelda had told quite a few lies today to keep the locals in the dark and was ready for this one. ‘I have no idea. I was merely walking along the road when this man jumped out from behind a bush and attacked me! I ran for dear life and ended up in your back garden.’

That sounded plausible.

‘Did you hit him with my daughter’s swings?’ Amanda’s eyes flicked over to the ruined metal swing set.

‘Um… yes, yes I did. You know what they say… in times of crisis you get a surge of strength you never knew you had!’ This was less plausible, but she was on a roll, so what the hell.

‘I think we should call the police,’ Amanda suggested.

 ‘Yes! Good idea. Why don’t you run in and give them a bell?’

‘Will you be alright while I do it?’

‘Me? Oh, I’ll be fine. I’ll watch this one until you get back. Wouldn’t want him getting away now, would we?’

‘No, of course not.’ Amanda wasn’t sure the sex fiend would be going anywhere, but went off to make the call anyway.

The second she was out of sight, Imelda jumped into action.

The police were the last people she wanted to see again today and another incident involving her and Elijah wouldn’t look good, however much you tried to spin it. She had to get away from here as quickly as possible.

Dragging a large man with a toilet on his head is not an easy thing to do, especially when you’re a fifty two year old woman who’s been on the go for a while now, and could really do with a nice sit down and a cup of tea.

She managed it though, weaving what limited Wordcraft she could to lighten the load and help pull Elijah over to her Punto.

As she was ramming him into the passenger seat, Amanda re-appeared.

‘What are you doing? The police are on their way.’

‘Excellent! Good work.’

‘What are you doing with him?’

It would have taken a couple of hours to manufacture a believable lie for this one, so Imelda didn’t bother.

‘Look Mrs Bloom - ‘ she began, then cursed herself.

‘How do you know my name?’

‘I know your son.’

‘Max? How do you know him?’

‘Look, I don’t have time to explain, but this man isn’t someone the police can deal with and I have to leave right now before they get here. I promise to pay for the damage to your garden.’

Amanda looked worried. ‘What’s my son got to do with this? Is he alright? Do you know where he is? I haven’t seen him all day. Have you seen him today? Is he alright?’

Imelda put her hands on the woman’s shoulders. ‘Max is fine, my dear, I have no doubt of that,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I can’t tell you more but I really do have to be going.’

She moved round to the driver’s side, jumped in the car, started the engine and looked back out past toilet features.

‘I promise I’ll get Max to ring you once I see him!’

Amanda didn’t answer, just stood there in shock.

A small girl that Imelda supposed was Max’s sister joined her by the kerb.

‘Why has that man got a loo on his head, mummy?’

Imelda didn’t wait to hear the answer.

She stuck the Punto in gear and drove away, holding her arm out to stop the top heavy Arma whacking her on the shoulder with his new porcelain headpiece.

If I were a teenager with a clever mouth and a knack for getting into trouble, where would I be?

Imelda turned onto the main road and saw a column of smoke rising to the north above the suburban tree line, a mile or so away.

Ah ha!

- 11 -

 ‘None of this is my fault!’ Max protested.

Imelda glared at him, indicating she didn’t believe a word of it.

‘Aunt Emerelda, are you ok?’ Merelie asked.

‘
Aunt Emerelda
?’ Max said.

‘Yes, Mr Bloom, Merelie and I are related. I got this thankless job because her father doesn’t like it when his little sister argues with him.’

‘You’re going to have to explain that to me at some point,’ Merelie told her.

Charlie Pearce had been staring at Imelda for a few moments, trying to work out where he knew her from. It dropped into place when he’d mentally rearranged her hair into a neat bun and removed the mud and grass from her face.

‘Miss Warrington?’ he said in amazement.

Imelda studied him for a moment. ‘That copy of Catcher in the Rye is a week overdue, Charles.’

This was getting too much for Max.

‘Do you
know
her
?’ he said to his grandfather.

‘Oh yes, we’ve had several stimulating verbal battles about the literature on offer in her place of employment,’ the old man said, with fond recollection in his eyes.

Max looked back at Imelda, who was scowling at him again.

‘I can do magic!’ he said with pride, feeling the need to add his own revelation to proceedings.

They were all aware of quite a crowd forming at the bottom of the driveway - pointing and staring at the house with its new flaming garage feature.

‘I think you should all retire from sight,’ Charlie said. ‘I’ll go and speak with yonder crowd and hopefully get them to disperse. I get the feeling we could do without any more attention right now.’

‘Good idea. Make sure no-one calls the fire brigade yet.’ Imelda said and went to the passenger door. ‘Max, help me with this one, we can’t leave him here.’

The newly appointed super powerful Wordsmith started to protest, but saw the look in her eyes - and did as he was told.

‘I’ll go make sure The Cornerstone is charged,’ Merelie said.

Imelda opened the car door and Elijah’s toilet covered head flopped out, followed by the rest of him.

‘I can float him in, if you like,’ Max offered, waggling his fingers.

‘Max, if you have developed Wordcraft somehow in the brief time since I saw you last, for once I’m very pleased to be proved wrong. If Merelie was right then maybe we do stand a chance here. But do you think it would be a good idea for you to start messing around with it in sight of that lot?’ Imelda pointed at the rapidly increasing size of the crowd.

He couldn’t argue with that.

‘Alright… you grab his legs, I’ll get his head.’

Between them they managed to get the unconscious man into the house and onto the sofa. As they did, Max filled Imelda in on recent events, including how he discovered his new found abilities. By the time they’d added the lifeless forms of the four Wordsmiths to the long couch, Charlie had come back, having done a great deal of fast talking in the street.

He’d managed to convince the crowd that everything was fine, and that he’d already called the fire brigade, so there was no need for anyone else to worry. Nobody had been hurt and he’d been meaning to demolish that garage for a while now anyway, so it was probably lucky in the long run.

‘That’ll give us a few minutes,’ he said. ‘But that much disturbance is bound to have the police here in double quick time I’d imagine, so whatever you’re planning on doing, I suggest some unseemly haste before this house is crawling with curious bobbies.’

‘We have to go back,’ Merelie said. ‘Use The Cornerstone to return home.’

‘To what girl?’ Imelda asked, cleaning muck off her face with a towel Charlie had supplied. ‘From what you say, the place is crawling with the enemy and we’ve no got idea what they’ve done with The Cornerstone on that side. We could pop out right into the arms of Lucas Morodai.’

‘Good!’ snarled Max. ‘I fancy having a crack at him as soon as I can.’ He waved his hands around in the air, trying to look as menacing as possible.

‘Calm down, Rambo,’ Imelda said. ‘You may have developed some power, but your common sense hasn’t improved much. Even if you have the strength to take on Morodai and his servants - and that’s by no means certain - we’ve got Merelie’s parents to think about.’

‘They’re probably dead,’ the girl said, in a resigned manner.

‘You don’t know that, so less of the doom and gloom, young lady. Your father’s a resourceful man, so there’s still hope. But if they are still alive and we go blundering in, Morodai will kill them for certain.’

‘Well, we can’t just sit here,’ Max said, still hand waving.

‘Do cease that infernal mime show, Maxwell,’ Charlie scolded, gratefully sinking back into his armchair. ‘You look as if you’ve lost control of your faculties.’

‘We have to know what’s happening on the other side,’ Imelda continued.

‘A reccie!’ Max piped up, eager to contribute something other than exaggerated hand waving.

‘What?’ Imelda said.

‘A reccie. You know... a reconnaissance mission? We have a nose about, see what’s up and pop back here if there’s any sign of trouble.’

‘Great idea, Max,’ Merelie told him, eliciting a smile. She took The Cornerstone from the bookshelf and held it out. ‘We should be able to do that with The Cornerstone, if it’ll let us.’

Imelda shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me to do it, that thing’s never liked me. It won’t listen to a damn word I say.’

‘I’ll do it,’ Max volunteered. ‘It likes me. It showed me how to do Wordcraft, so it’ll help me do this, no problem.’

‘It
showed
you?’ Merelie looked incredulous.

‘Yep. It spoke to me too.’

‘It’s a book, boy. It doesn’t speak.’ Imelda scoffed.

‘Oh yes it does!’ He felt a bit ridiculous defending a book - but this was a ridiculous situation when you got right down to it. ‘It told me how to find the words and use them… It’s all quite easy once you get the gist of it.’

‘Quite
easy
?’ Imelda seethed. ‘I spent fifteen years of my life learning how to word shape. Merelie’s been taught since she was a child! It is not
easy
.’

‘I hate to interrupt,’ Charlie butted in, ‘but I fear the incipient sound of a two-tone siren. Perhaps this discussion can be delayed until later?’

‘He’s right… enough chit chat.’ Imelda took The Cornerstone from Merelie and gave it to Max. ‘Get to it then. Have a word with your friend and find out what’s going on over there.’

Max took The Cornerstone.

‘Right then you,’ he began, ‘we’ve got an understanding by now, I reckon. It looks like you want to help us and I need to pop over and check out what’s going on in the Chapter House. But if it’s all kicking off, you’ve got to pull me back here before someone noodles my doodle. That good with you?’

Imelda rolled her eyes.

She was taken aback when The Cornerstone gave a brief but bright flash of silver, apparently indicating agreement.

Max grinned, opened the Cornerstone and began to read:

Imelda rolled her eyes.

She was taken aback when the Cornerstone gave a brief but bright flash of silver, apparently indicating agreement.

Max grinned, opened the Cornerstone and began to read:

Boom! Universe explodes, bright silver lights, and so on...

The light faded and Max found himself back in the Carvallen Library’s Main Hub - and about to be impaled on an enormous spike, carried by a smoke eyed monster running headlong at him, gibbering insanely.

He word shaped in a panic and the Dweller rocketed upwards, disappearing into the mist.

There was a loud thump as the creature came into contact with a buttress or two, and it dropped back out of the mist, getting its cloak caught on one of the sconces, where it hung like a badly mistreated Halloween decoration.

Max turned and saw Garrowain leaning against the wall, looking at him with disbelief.

‘How’s that for dramatic timing?’ Max said, grinning from ear to ear.

Part Six

- 1 -

Just after The Cornerstone had reluctantly transported Fergil and his cohorts to Earth, Garrowain had dropped to the ground next to the pedestal on which the rapidly cooling book sat.

The Dwellers didn’t see him - they were still fighting over the fallen Wordsmith, giving Garrowain the chance to run through to the empty entrance hall.

He hurried over to the main door, still open from the earlier invasion, glanced outside to see the corridor empty and pushed the door shut as quietly as possible. Placing a hand on the lock, he muttered a few well chosen words, the mechanism activating with a loud clank.

These were the strongest security passwords he could summon. They should prevent anyone from outside causing him trouble – for a while, at least.