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So now Alex knew where the troll (or rather troll wife) was; but what to do now? Should be try to sneak into where the troll wife lived? Should he try to defeat her? Should he try to befriend her? Alex realised he would be rash to run to the door right now, so satisfied with his findings he went back to Well.

Well was stacking a trolley for shelving. ‘Well!’ Called Alex, who raised his head to greet him. ‘I found the troll, or rather as she turned out to be, the troll wife, she lives in the disabled patrons toilet on the first floor!’ ‘You’re quite sure?’ ‘Oh yes, I followed her and saw her go in. I think she saw me too.’ ‘This is exciting Alex, now here’s what you must do next. Tomorrow night, when we are as sure we can be that she is back in there, you must knock on the door. She will not answer at first, but then you will say ‘Troll wife, troll wife come to the door, a lad seeks work, a lad who’s poor’. When you say this, she will open the door and you must repeat your request for work. Then she will complain that she cannot pay you wages, but you will say (despite what you said about being poor) that you will pay your own wages and you will offer her the coin you have carried with you the whole time. Then she will laugh, and take the coin from you. After this she will give you a job. More than this I cannot say.’ Alex fingered the silver coin in his pocked in excitement. ‘But we cannot do this tonight?’ ‘No Alex’ Well replied, ‘You must wait until tomorrow.’

So on the following night, Alex waited in his best clothes, on the first floor, just out of sight of the disabled toilet entrance. Sure enough, by and by along comes the troll wife, glancing around her to make sure no one has seen her. With a last furtive glance, she enters the toilet and the door shuts behind her. Now fair trembling with nerves, Alex walked towards the door and gave a loud rat-a-tat upon it. Alex stood and waited, but no one came to the door so at length he spoke as forcefully as he could ‘Troll wife, troll wife, come to the door, a lad seeks work, a lad who’s poor.’ Then there came a great thumping noise that got closer and closer until with a terrible crash the door was flung open. There in front of Alex was the huge troll wife, looking down upon him. ‘Who knocks and shouts and asks for work?!’ says she. ‘I do mistress troll wife, my name is Alex and I would work for you if you will have me’ ‘Well Alex’ she boomed ‘I would indeed let you work for me, for there’s plenty to do, but how to pay you wages, there’s the trouble, and without wages there is no job.’ ‘If you please mistress troll wife, I can pay my own wages’ and in saying so, he produced the shiny silver coin from his pocket.

Was the troll wife amused? I’ll say she was, she laughed and laughed and took the coin gently from his hand. ‘Very well Alex, very well’ she rumbled through her laughter ‘You may work for me and this shall be your wages, I will see that you get it, if you do a good enough job.’

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So Alex worked in the library and shelved the books. He shelved them well and shelved them quickly and soon became a favourite amongst the head librarian. But there were other assistants and operatives who were jealous of Alex’s success and favour. Now in the past the head librarian had had a book of great power that had been taken from him much to his sorrow. So with this in mind the jealous assistants and operatives went to the head librarian and said: ‘You like the new assistant well do you not sir?’ ‘Yes I do!’ replied the head librarian ‘Then sir, you should know that Alex has been boasting that if he wanted to he could retrieve your book for you if he so wanted to.’

This gave the head librarian pause for thought about Alex, and he had him summoned to his office. ‘Alex’ he said ‘I hear you have been saying you could retrieve my lost book if you so wished!’ To which the astonished Alex replied ‘Oh no sir, not me sir! I never said such a thing!’ ‘But how’ replied the head librarian ‘did it come about that people said this if you did not say it?!’’. To which Alex replied ‘I can only guess at how this can have come about, and I have not said it, but if it pleases you then, though I do not know how, I will retrieve your book.’ Well, at this the head librarian was overjoyed, so much so that Alex rose still further in his favour. This maddened the jealous co-workers still further, yet their ire died down as they saw that Alex must still perform the task, a task he had clearly no idea how to achieve.

As the days went by Alex pondered hopelessly how he might even begin the task, so the head librarian’s patience and high esteem began to wane as the precious book did not return. One day Well saw Alex shelving slowly and sadly and asked him what was the matter. ‘It is a sore mess I have landed in Well,’ said Alex ‘for the head librarian has bade me retrieve his lost and precious book and I but no clue how to even begin to seek it.’ At this Well was silent for a moment. Alex waited nervously; at length Well began to speak ‘Ah yes the Libra Codex, it was taken many years ago.’ ‘But who took it?’ ‘No one’s too sure but there are rumours that somewhere in the library lives a troll, like as not it was him that took it.’ ‘A troll in the library! You’re joking with me Well.’ ‘That I am not Alex, for in truth it is not rumour but fact; I have seen this troll on the third floor. I’m fairly sure he comes out when he thinks the other folk have gone. On this occasion I was working quietly amongst the journals when I heard the main floor doors open. I assume naturally it’s a patron or staff member, for though the building was quiet, there were a few of us around. Anyway, I glanced up across towards the door and there he was, 8 foot of troll, stooping as he went. Where he was going I do not know for I quickly lost track of him, and that Alex is all I can tell you.’ ‘If there’s a chance this troll has the book I must find him.’ ‘I daresay that’s true Alex, but how? There’s the question. He could be anyway where in here, he might not even still be here! What’s more trolls are cunning, if they want to hide, they can hide and if they have a mind they can be vicious too! Like as not that troll eats the odd student that goes missing.’ ‘Students go missing?!’ ‘Yes they do Alex, not too infrequently either. It may down to them running away, or drowning, or disappearing into the walls (like you appeared from the walls) or maybe they end up a troll’s supper. Who’s to say?’ ‘Well, will you show me where you saw the troll walking and where he must have come from.’ ‘I will that Alex, follow me.’

So Well showed Alex where he had seen the troll. The track ran from the ancient stairwell hall of the third floor, through the heavy black doors that lead to the floor itself, and round the side of the dusty, hoary journal collection ‘After which I lost sight of him’ said Well. Alex looked at the way, and Alex pondered. After a time he says to himself ‘I’ve nought better to do here than to watch the same track and see if the troll won’t return the same way, so that’s what I’ll do.’ So Alex set himself a place on the third floor, from which he could comfortably watch where the troll had been seen. He also had to think, how he was sat, so he might arise to follow with mininum noise but also how he might stay comfortable, for surely he had no idea how long he might be in this place. Well of course Alex must work too, so he resolved himself to this, when he must work, so he would, but when he needn’t he would sit (this was his solution) on a chair, positioned as best he could to see the walkway of the troll and yet be obscured from it, for he reasoned that, from a chair he could raise himself quite noiselessly and be ready in a position to follow the troll.

Alex sat and he sat. He sat for a day between work and not troll appear, he sat for another day and no troll appeared, but on the third day, just as he was despairing that he would never catch sight of the troll, he heard the soft thumping of feet coming from the stairwell. Now Alex had heard the sounds of many peoples feet come and go in this time, so he knew well enough what a human approaching sounded like; this however was quite different and immediately drew his attention. Alex waited still as a mouse and peered cautiously through the bookcases to the path where he thought the troll (if it be he) might pass. Then there clear as anything passed down the same way as Well had described a huge Troll, treading, Alex thought, extremely lightly. Immediately and silently Alex rose from the chair and moved to keep track of the troll. He passed behind parallel book cases so the troll would not see him, and peering through these he managed to continue his pursuit.

Troll moved round the edge of the floor, looking at this and that as it went. Then when it reached the corner it bore round to follow the wall to its left. This lead the troll to the other stairwell, which it opened to the door to and descended. Stealthily as he could, Tom continued to follow, opening the stairwell door as silently as possible. He just rounded the bend of the stairs to see the troll exit the stairwell two floors down. Determined to not lose it, with the doors closed behind it, Alex fair leapt down the remaining stairs and swiftly opened and checked the floor (it was the first floor) hoping he had not lost it. Luckily for him he just caught a glimps of it going right down the edge of the first floor. Alex knew he must take a chance here or lose it. He leapt from the stairwell door way, across the walkway to behind the bookshelves. His only chance was to gamble on being able to cut off the trolls probably direction, which should mean it would reach the end of the floor and turn left. Alex wove in and out of the bookshelves, trying to diagonally beat the trolls trajectory. At last he found himself in a central corridor between two sets of shelves, looking down an arcade. In this unthinking exposed moment Alex stood central in the arcade looking down, however before he had chance to re-conceal himself, the troll walk past at the end of the floor, paused, and looked back up the path at Alex. The troll definitely saw him and now Alex could see it was not a troll as such but rather an old troll wife, huge, stoney and fierce looking. The troll-wife looked at Alex for only a moment, before —did he imagine it?- giving him the smallest of grins and continuing on her way. Alex sped down the arcade to keep sight, spun round the corner to hear and see the door to the toilet for disabled patrons click soundly. No further sign of the troll wife could he see.

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In a dimly lit corner of an otherwise mundane disabled-toilet cubicle the air seems to thicken with an otherworldly tension. The flickering fluorescent light casts elongated shadows on the twlight-tiled walls, their edges wavering like ripples.

Maybe the toilet itself is no ordinary fixture? It seems now that its porcelain surface bears cryptic symbols etched into the rim, as if etched in by unseen entities. The flush handle resembles an antique key, its tarnished brass glinting in the spectral glow. When pulled, it emits a low, resonant hum.

The mirror above the sink reflects fractured glimpses of a roadside scene, pylons stretch into the distance, dark clouds move rapidly above, faint mists drift by the roadside. Staring into it, one might catch sight of their doppelgänger wandering this desolate highway.

Exit is unlikely as when the door creaks open all it reveals is a narrow corridor. Mauve mist clings to the walls, the floor gives slightly, as though walking on the meniscus. The walls are line with graffiti scrawled there—half-formed sentences, nonsensical equations.

You read:

Daagolenyfo breaths walls,

Oncebeus evanuit quod erat umbra

Pnolodolia kells enoch noch?

Quis est?

Merci…

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By Jessica Lightfoot-Toye

Carousel 5

Paradox strikes itself down on the doom calendar

and the room reverberates limitlessly

down the aisle of double-concentration

before vanishing completely.

Pouring outwardly into empty spaces,

the vortex’s vernacular, gibberish,

liquidises its contents, inhabitants’

voices become bodiless, then mute.

Something is listening.

From within the spotlit cistern,

the abyss lunges towards the offering

of a hangnail skinned on the window latch

Its colour, the lethal pink of science fiction

(pH non-corrosive), illuminates the

monolithic basin-alter daubed mauve

and splits the lip of the pipe’s drole thrum.

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A stairwell with, as before, a grey hard floor. The diagonal structure he had perceived was a rising staircase which he was now partially underneath. Beyond it stood large glass windows, through which sunlight shone. Around him stood trolleys, off white book trolleys (or so it seemed to him). The lad turned around, nothing but wall behind him, no trace of the dark stair. ‘Well’ thinks the lad ‘maybe I’m still sat on the stair, maybe I fell to my doom, or may as be I’m still at home dreaming in my old mum and dad’s house in the fen, however, true as all these might be, equally true is I’m here so let’s see what’s what.’

The lad took a step forward. All remained as it was. He pinched himself, he held his breath. These things all confirmed he was as real as could be told. He peered up the stairs and saw that several flights stretched upwards with the external wall being constructed of glass for the whole ascent. He looked further around and saw a corridor led away from the stairwell towards a black fire door with a large tubular handle. Suddenly there was a noise and the door pushed open.

A man walked through, full figure, slightly red face, dark trousers and a shirt (no tie). ‘Ah!’ says the man ‘Are you the new assistant?’ The lad is taken aback for sure ‘I’m not sure sir.’ he says ‘Were you expecting a new assistant?’ ‘Well of course we were expecting a new assistant, I’m just not sure I expected to find one lurking in the stairwell.’ ‘I do apologise sir’ says the lad ‘Call me Emanuel’ says the man ‘sir, is too formal. Or just call me Well, for that’s what most folk do.’ ‘I’m pleased to meet you Well, my name is Alex.’ ‘Nice to meet you too Alex, will you be straight to it or would you care for a bite to eat first?’ ‘If it’s all the same to you Well, we’ll get straight to work, for I’ve only just had a bite on the stair just now.’ and in saying this, he thought how curious it was that it was indeed on the stair that he ate, except that it was not the same stair, but the stair in the darkness, where he possibly still was.

‘As you will Alex, follow me.’

So Alex followed Well, not up the stair but down the corridor towards the dark double door away from the stairwell. This lead down a second corridor for some ten metres, then turned right, carried on and came to a room sized clearing where steel lift doors faced out whilst above them the numerical register of their level flickered from digit to digit. Facing the lifts were more black double doors. Well proceeded through these also and lead Alex to a massive dim room with stark metal girders vertically set through it at intervals. The room hummed and buzzed with noise of electrical machines. A long wooden desk could be seen to his left; it ran along the side of the massive room and seemed to have some kind of operatives behind it, though they could not be clearly made out because the light was poor. What was also visible were books, many many books.

They were piled up along the desk in great stacks leaving only some places by which the desk operatives could peek out. They were also on the floor behind the desk, stretching behind it and away into seemingly more rooms that extended out the back of the desk into what could be assumed to be offices, presumably for the operatives. ‘Have you shelved books before Alex?’ said Well ‘No sir, I mean Well, that I have not.’ ‘Not to worry, for it’s easy work but long and tiresome.’ So Well took Alex over the the books and told him what he must do.

Well explained that the building they were in was the library of a grand learning establishment. The students and professors were forever borrowing the books, but so quickly did they read them that they returned them almost immediately. Sometimes they returned them before they even left the building. This made for a vast amount of work for the operatives and their assistants (of which Alex was now one) who must tirelessly take the books off the students and the professors, process them and then get them back to the shelves as quickly as possible.

The books were all coded by a system of letters and numbers which was quite difficult to follow on account of the letters being of a different alphabet to that in which most of the books were written. The numbers were normal but only played a secondary, some would say almost superfluous role in determing where the books would be placed. The relevance of the numbers could be determined by the quantity of letters. If there were sufficient letters to determine the location of the book, then one could ignore the numbers, however if there were not enough letters then then numbers must be consulted to disambiguate the precise location that the book was to shelved in. The system was imperfect, yet it was the best system available and hence it had to be worked with.

Alex grasped the rudiments of the system in a short while, which impressed Well and even though a rudimentary grasp of the system was inadequate for a totally accurate shelving of the books, Well felt that a partially accurate shelving of the books was better than no shelving. This would come with the additional bonus that if the books were poorly shelved then when the students and professors went to retrieve them they would not find them in the correct locations and would be slowed down in the their borrowing. Well seemed to fantasise about a system which he called ‘organized disarray’ in which the whole library might be slightly off kilter in its correct positioning of the books, thus permanently slowing down the relentless borrowing of the items and even putting some of the patrons off from attending at all.