Read Online Alcatraz by Brandon Sanderson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Brandon Sanderson
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auras,’ she snapped. ‘They’re simple, really. Honestly, Smedry. Even someone raised by Librarians should know that.’
‘I wasn’t raised by Librarians,’ I said. ‘I was raised by regular people – good people.’
‘Oh?’ Bastille said. ‘Then why did you work so hard to destroy their houses?’
‘Look, aren’t knights supposed to be a little less . . . annoying?’
Bastille stood upright, sniffing angrily. Then she swung her purse straight at my head. I started but remained where I was. The handbag’s strap will break , I thought. It won’t be able to hit me .
And so, of course, it smashed right into my face. It was surprisingly heavy, as if Bastille had packed a brick or two inside, just in case she had to whack the odd Smedry in the head. I stepped backward – half from the impact, half from surprise – and stumbled, falling to the ground. My head banged against the streetlamp, and I immediately heard a crack up above.
The lamp’s bulb shattered on the ground beside me.
Oh, sure , I thought, rubbing my head. That breaks .
Bastille sniffed with satisfaction, as she looked down at me, but I caught a glimmer of surprise in her eyes – as if she too hadn’t expected to be able to hit me.
‘Stop making so much noise,’ she said. ‘People will notice.’ Behind her, Grandpa Smedry’s little black car finally puttered up the street, coming to a stop beside us. I could see Sing smushed into the backseat, obscuring the entire back window.
Grandpa Smedry climbed perkily out of the car as I stood rubbing my jaw. ‘What happened?’ he asked, glancing at the broken light, then at me, then at Bastille.
‘Nothing,’ I said.
Grandpa Smedry smiled, eyes twinkling, as if he knew exactly what had happened. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘should we be off, then?’
I nodded, straightening my glasses. ‘Let’s go break into the library.’
And once again, I considered just how strange my life had become during the last two hours.
Rutabaga.
6
K indly pretend that you own a mousetrap factory. Now, I realize that some of this narrative still might feel a little far-fetched to you. For instance, you might wonder why the Librarians haven’t captured Grandpa Smedry and his little team of spies long before they attempted this particular infiltration. My friends do – as you have undoubtedly noticed – stand out, with their self-driving cars, odd disguises and near-lethal handbags.
This brings us back to your mousetrap factory. How is it doing? Are profits up? Ah, that’s very pleasant.
A mousetrap factory – as you well know, since you own one – creates mousetraps. These mousetraps are used to kill mice. However, your factory is in a very nice, clean part of town. That area itself has never had a problem with mice – your mousetraps are sold to people who live near fields, where mice are far more common.
So, do you set mousetraps in your own factory? Of course not. You’ve never seen any mice there. And yet, because of this, if a small family of mice did somehow sneak into your factory, they might have a very nice time living there, as there are no traps to kill them.
This, friends, is called irony. Your mousetrap factory could itself become infested with mice. In a similar way, the Librarians are very good at patrolling the borders of their lands, keeping out enemy Oculators like Grandpa Smedry. Yet they don’t expect to find mice like Grandpa Smedry hiding in the centers of their cities.
And that is why two men in tuxedos, one very large Mokian in sunglasses and a kimono, one young girl with a soldier’s grace, and a very confused young Oculator in a green jacket could walk right up to the downtown library without drawing too much Librarian attention.
Besides, you’ve seen the kinds of people who walk around downtown, haven’t you?
‘All right, Smedry,’ Bastille said to Grandpa. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘Well, first I’ll take an Oculatory reading of the building,’ Grandpa
‘I wasn’t raised by Librarians,’ I said. ‘I was raised by regular people – good people.’
‘Oh?’ Bastille said. ‘Then why did you work so hard to destroy their houses?’
‘Look, aren’t knights supposed to be a little less . . . annoying?’
Bastille stood upright, sniffing angrily. Then she swung her purse straight at my head. I started but remained where I was. The handbag’s strap will break , I thought. It won’t be able to hit me .
And so, of course, it smashed right into my face. It was surprisingly heavy, as if Bastille had packed a brick or two inside, just in case she had to whack the odd Smedry in the head. I stepped backward – half from the impact, half from surprise – and stumbled, falling to the ground. My head banged against the streetlamp, and I immediately heard a crack up above.
The lamp’s bulb shattered on the ground beside me.
Oh, sure , I thought, rubbing my head. That breaks .
Bastille sniffed with satisfaction, as she looked down at me, but I caught a glimmer of surprise in her eyes – as if she too hadn’t expected to be able to hit me.
‘Stop making so much noise,’ she said. ‘People will notice.’ Behind her, Grandpa Smedry’s little black car finally puttered up the street, coming to a stop beside us. I could see Sing smushed into the backseat, obscuring the entire back window.
Grandpa Smedry climbed perkily out of the car as I stood rubbing my jaw. ‘What happened?’ he asked, glancing at the broken light, then at me, then at Bastille.
‘Nothing,’ I said.
Grandpa Smedry smiled, eyes twinkling, as if he knew exactly what had happened. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘should we be off, then?’
I nodded, straightening my glasses. ‘Let’s go break into the library.’
And once again, I considered just how strange my life had become during the last two hours.
Rutabaga.
6
K indly pretend that you own a mousetrap factory. Now, I realize that some of this narrative still might feel a little far-fetched to you. For instance, you might wonder why the Librarians haven’t captured Grandpa Smedry and his little team of spies long before they attempted this particular infiltration. My friends do – as you have undoubtedly noticed – stand out, with their self-driving cars, odd disguises and near-lethal handbags.
This brings us back to your mousetrap factory. How is it doing? Are profits up? Ah, that’s very pleasant.
A mousetrap factory – as you well know, since you own one – creates mousetraps. These mousetraps are used to kill mice. However, your factory is in a very nice, clean part of town. That area itself has never had a problem with mice – your mousetraps are sold to people who live near fields, where mice are far more common.
So, do you set mousetraps in your own factory? Of course not. You’ve never seen any mice there. And yet, because of this, if a small family of mice did somehow sneak into your factory, they might have a very nice time living there, as there are no traps to kill them.
This, friends, is called irony. Your mousetrap factory could itself become infested with mice. In a similar way, the Librarians are very good at patrolling the borders of their lands, keeping out enemy Oculators like Grandpa Smedry. Yet they don’t expect to find mice like Grandpa Smedry hiding in the centers of their cities.
And that is why two men in tuxedos, one very large Mokian in sunglasses and a kimono, one young girl with a soldier’s grace, and a very confused young Oculator in a green jacket could walk right up to the downtown library without drawing too much Librarian attention.
Besides, you’ve seen the kinds of people who walk around downtown, haven’t you?
‘All right, Smedry,’ Bastille said to Grandpa. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘Well, first I’ll take an Oculatory reading of the building,’ Grandpa
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