by on

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.’

by on

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.

by on

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.

by on

The lad awoke bright and refreshed, and only by this could he guess it might be morning. The mushroom glow was the same as when he went to sleep but the air now had a slight musty quality to it, though in fairness this might have been there all along. He looked around to find his way out, but now as he looked around in the dim light he sees there is not just one hole, but several. But from which one has he come and where do they all go? He thinks back to last night and how he went round the stump, it seemed for an eternity, in the end finding just the one entrance. Yet here are, one, two, three maybe even more dark places that seem to lead out of the fungal chamber.

To be sure our lad felt quite alarmed at this, for the holes were tight and retreat would be hard. He had seemingly popped through just a short distance from the outside into here, yet none of them had daylight streaming in from to show which was the right one. The he thought that it must be the dark hedge above that prevented the light from being visible and that the other holes must sure just take him some other close distance to the hedge, either road or field side.

So after a moment’s dithering he picks one of the holes, largely on the basis that it looks maybe larger than the others, and squeezes his way in, pushing his bag before him as he goes. Very soon it’s dark in the tunnel and the lad is sure this is not the one he came in by. He wriggles on, the musty smell clears and the tunnel smells like fresh earth. Still the passage is wide enough and he thinks, if all became too uncomfortable or hopeless feeling, he might after all be able to, albeit slowly, maneuvre himself backwards up the tunnel.

But on it goes, on and on, darkness is all around and heavy press of the earth above sore weighs on his soul in a fear he can scarce keep at bay. The earth gets cooler, but he can hardly interpret this as a good sign as he feels it maybe a further symptom of what he’s been suspecting for some time. That is, that the tunnel is on a downward slope and that he is heading deeper and deeper into the earth. Still there’s something in him that drives him on. It’s strange after all, a clear tunnel like this in the depths of the earth; maybe it’s been used before, maybe it goes somewhere.

Now the incline becomes unmistakeably steeper and the surface made of a smoother sandier earth. It becomes unpleasant to crawl in. He kicks it up with his hands and arms has he moves and it gets in his face, it gets in his boots as he goes. The slope gets steep still, and now our lad feels a real claustrophobic panic. The darkness before him, the slippery sand, the downward tunnel, it’s all too much and for sure, he couldn’t get back up this if he wanted to. It’s now almost as he’s being propelled along, which he is as the slope is now steep, steep, steep, and the floor oh oh so slippery. At length his scrabbling is more a hindrance than an aid to the motion that carries him down down in to the dark.

Well, the scrabbling, plunging terror went on, too long for the lad you may be sure. But was it relief or even greater shock he felt when came to a sudden stop on a sandy smooth cold floor? Dazed and shocked, he felt around and though he hadn’t noticed it, the tunnel had widened some time ago and now he wasn’t sure exactly what he had emerged out of. He could only tell that in front of him were not tight walls of earth, but empty black cool air and a sandy floor beneath him.

The lad tried to stand and found there was space above him that he could. He took a step forwards and that worked too. So, seeming as he had not choice, he carefully walked himself through the dark. Well he hasn’t walked far when his boot struck something hard. ‘Oh ho’ thinks the lad, ‘what now?’ He crouched down and felt what he’d bumped into, and it seemed to him it was a very low stone wall. A flat vertical surface that, as he felt it, only went up half a foot or so. What’s on the other side of the wall? Our lad wants to know. So he feels the flat top surface of the ‘wall’ waiting to find the other side. Well he never found the other side, but what does he find? Only another vertical piece of stone, and this one too, just about half a foot in height by its feel. Now our lad has an inkling. He checks this second wall; yes this one has a top surface that goes on before the stone rises sheer again. The penny drops completely. They aren’t walls, they are steps! But steps to where?

‘Stone steps in the dark could be perilous.’ thinks the lad, so it’s with caution he ascends. Climbs might be best word insofar as he definitely doesn’t simply walk up. He leans forward to feel with his hands that the steps continue and thus can be sure it’s safe to proceed. The stairs go on on on, the lad climbs and climbs. Oh it’s weary work. How much longer to climb? Only one answer to this. As long as it takes for the stairs to take him out of the interminable darkness. So it’s on on on up the stairs, hands forward, back aching, knees battered from occasionally catching the bite of the stone and still no sign of an end to them. But who knows what else might have been out there in the dark. Maybe he has missed side doors, other staircases, passages or who knows what exits.

At length it’s all to much for the lad. The anxiety, the pain, the exhaustion. He stops and seats himself as best he can on the steps and rummages in his bag for food and water. He reflects on what a strange place this is and that whilst only a day or so can have passed it now seems a lifetime away that he was in his house with his old mum and dad, looking across to the abandoned garage, watching the litter blow down the street. At this memory he wonders if he has made the right choice.

But this is no time for regret, so he ate and he drank and he stared into the black, and as he did so he thought he saw a strange glow. He shook his head to clear it for he was sure there could be nothing there. But again as he stared into the black, purple spots began to appear before him. Tired as he was, he gave himself over to looking at them as they had a soothing appealing quality. Now at first it seemed that as he moved his eyes so the purple blobs followed this movement, but then the situation became more odd. For now it seemed the glowing purple spots became stable independent of his eyes. ‘Well here’s another funny thing!’ the lad said to himself as he stared incredulous at the moving colours.

Almost in a trance he watched the purple patches floating in the dark. Then slowly but surely round the edge of of the patches formed a soft green glow. The patches bobbed, and joined in with one another, they separated out, and in this weaving movement of strange light occasionally the lad thought he could make a out a scene that flickeringly appeared between the patches, filling in the rest of the dark. Once there was a blue sky with clouds that floated through, then there was a woodland glade where a blackbird fluttered through, sunlight striking branches in the clearing, now there was a stream bright and clear, unduluating sparkling on its every moving surface, now a bridge under over the stream and a railing on the bridge. The railing was of smooth metal piping which became, as he fell harder into the image, longer and no longer the rail, but pipes that went a long a beige plastered wall.

The lad took a half a stock of what was happening. Around him, to the left and right and behind, the same blackness and maybe, maybe he could still feel the stone step he sat on, but in front, in most of his vision a strange smooth floor of hard grey , a beige wall with a pipe running along it, a diagonal structure of some size he couldn’t make out, underneath which were many many off white trolleys on wheels with shelves on them and beyond the diagonal structure shone light as if a window were behind it.

The floor lapped at his feet and he found he was no longer seated but stood, with the vision of trolleys before him and the darkness receding behind. ‘If I step into this’ thought the lad ‘surely I shall tumble down the stairs to my doom, yet it may be I am not really standing but still sitting on the stair, in which case…’

The lad took a ginger step onto the grey floor, probing its solidity whilst holding his balance on the other foot. He pushed the foot down harder and it was met with floorlike resistance. He lifted the other foot and placed it on the grey floor and in that instance, the blackness around him failed and he found himself stood in a stairwell.

by on

‘Well!’ says the lad ‘That’s a strange sight if ever I saw one! And now what have I but a tale of a troll and a silver penny. If things hold as they are then sure as the gods are real, I’m not done with oddness yet!’ And with this remark he strode out of the library and went back to the singular fen road that led him away.

The lad walked on, the day grew short. The village was long behind him but the fen seemed so, so vast. As twilight blue settled about him and the air grew more chill, the lad wondered what he would do for the night. At length he walked by an old tree stump, so wide it stuck obtrusively out of the hedgerow. In the fading indigo he could see a crow perched on the top of the stump, just above the line of whitethorn.

‘Whither away lad?’ says the crow. The lad looked up, and though alarmed, thought he’d best mind his manners, especially with the time of day and the nature of the speaker. ‘Good evening sir, I’ve left my village for a better life just this very day, though I’m sure I shant’ find it today. I’ve food enough to keep me going, but where to sleep tonight, now there’s an issue? Like as not I’ll carry on along the road and see if there’s a small house where I might grab a night’s lodging.’

The crow peered at him with a curious angle of its head and spoke again ‘There’s no house down the road you’ll reach tonight lad and like as not the folk round here wouldn’t have you either. Yet I may be able to help you. This old stump is hollow inside keeps the cold and wind fair away. The inside is soft where the wood has rotted but slightly and would make a fair place for you to sleep. Creep through the whitethorn here and you’ll find a hole that leads into the stump. Squeeze in and rest yourself. The mushrooms emit a dim light so you’ll see clear enough in there if you need to.’

The lad looked at the dusk, he looked at the road, so long, straight and forbidding. He looked at the crow and underside of the dark hedgerow and thought, ‘in for a penny’ —and in doing so thought about the silver penny you may be sure. ‘Thanks sir Crow, I’m much obliged.’ says the lad. ‘I’ll have a bite and crawl in for the night. Would you care to join me, for I’ve meat, cheese and bread a plenty!’ ‘You’re a kind lad, and I’ll accept your gift, but only the meat and cheese I’ll take as the grains sore disagree with me.’

So the crow and the lad sat on the verge and ate from the bag of food until they were full. Then the crow cawed farewell and the lad crawled under the hedge to find the tree stump entrance. And wasn’t it dark in under that hedge and were the smells of the earth and hedge so full. Still he crawled and crawled until he found the stump; the stump but no entrance. He felt the stump and thought of the blind man, for sure as anything the blind man and he were just the same right now. Round the stump he made his way, feeling with his hands the rough surface, hoping to find this aperture through which he might enter, hoping the crow right now was not laughing to his wife about trick he had played and the feast he had gained.

The lad was tired, the lad was almost in a panic, for it seemed to him he had followed the base of the stump round for a long time now and that surely, if not already, he must have circumnavigated it in its entirety. This despair was fair upon him in total and he was about resolved to lie in the earth under hedge, when what should he spy but a faint glow. At first he could not tell if it were but one of those strange glows that emit from the depths of darkness as if by themselves, but then he saw it was no phantasm of light but a steady, faint orange glow that came from somewhere further round the stump. The lad scrambled on towards it, ignoring the enormity of time it seemed to take get round to it on a single, albeit large tree stump.

At last he gained a fuller sight of it and saw it was indeed a hole that lead into the stump. The warm welcoming orange glow shone softly from it. The hole was tight, but not too tight and he squeezed in with little difficulty.

Once inside what did he see? Oh oh oh! So strange a place as he had never cast his eyes upon, a small cave of soft spongey wood, the walls of which were covered with a great many mushrooms of all sizes. From this fungus came the glow, though in a sense it was hard to see how, for in a way it appeared as if the mushrooms were illuminated by the glow, yet they were also its source.

Though the place was a marvel, the lad was tired and tired as he was he lay himself out on the spongey floor and was soon fast asleep.