Read Online Alcatraz versus the Knights of Crystallia by Brandon Sanderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Brandon Sanderson
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said. "She brought lots of great information for us."
Six months, eh ? I thought, eyeing Folsom. He didn't give any indication, but if it had been six months, I found it odd that we were still keeping track of Himalaya. Folsom and the king, I figured, must still worry that she was secretly a spy for the Librarians.
The booths around us filled quickly, and the parlor enjoyed quite a boost in business from my patronage. The owner must have noticed this, for he soon visited our table. "The famous A l catraz Smedry, in my humble establish ment!" he said. The pudgy man wore a pair of bright red-and-white-striped pants. He waved to one of his wait resses, who rushed over with a bowl filled with whipped cream. "Please have a band ana split on the house!"
" Bandana ?" I asked, cocking my head.
"They get a few things wrong here ,” Himalaya whis pered, "but it's still the closest you'll get to American food while in Nalhalla."
I nodded thankfully to the owner, who smiled with pleasure. He left a handful of mints on the table, though I don't quite know why, t hen went back to serving custom ers. I glanced at the dessert he'd provided. It was , indeed, a large bandana filled with ice cream. I tasted it hesitantly but it actually was kind of good, in an odd way. I couldn't quite place the flavor.
That probably should have worried me.
"Alcatraz Smedry," Folsom said, as if taking the name for a test drive. "I have to ad mit, your latest book was a dis appointment. One and a half stars out of five."
I had a moment of panic, thinking he referred to the second book of my auto biography. However, I soon reali zed that was silly, since it not only hadn't been written yet but I didn't even know that I would write it. I promptly stopped that line of thinking before I caused a temporal rift and ended up doing something silly, like killing a butterfly or interfering with mankind's first warp jump.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said, taking another bite of ice cream.
"Oh, I have it here somewhere," Folsom said, rifling in his shoulder b a g.
"I didn't think it was so bad," Himalaya said. "Of course, my tastes are tainted by ten years as a Librarian."
"Ten years?" I asked. She didn't look much older than twenty-five to me.
"I started young," she explained, playing idly with the mints on the table. "I apprenticed to a master Librarian after I'd proven my ability to use the reverse lighthouse system."
"The what?"
"That's when you arrange a group of books alphabeti cally based on the third letter of the author's mother's maiden name. Anyway, once I got in, the Librarians let me live the high life for a time – buttering me up with advanced reader copies of books and the occasional bagel in the break room. When I was eighteen, they began intro ducing me into the cult."
She shivered, as if remembering the horrors of those early days. I wasn't buying it, though. As pleasant as she was, I was still suspicious of her motives.
“ Ah," Folsom said, pulling something out of his pack. "Here it is." He set a book on the table – one that appeared to have a painting of me on the cover. Me riding an enor mous vacuum cleaner while wearing a sombrero. I held a flintlock rifle in one hand and what appeared to be a glo w ing, magical credit card in the other.
Alcatraz Smedry and the Mechanic's Wrench , it read.
"Oh, dear ,” Aunt Patty said. "Folsom, don't tell me you read those dreadful fantasy n ovels!"
"They're fun, Mother," he said. "Meaningless, really, but as a diversion I give the genre three out of four marks. This one here was terrible, though. It had all the elements of a great story – a my stical weapon, a boy on a jour ney, quirky sidekicks. But it ended up ruining itself by trying to say something important, rather than just being amusing."
"That's me!" I said, pointing at the cover.
If Bastille were there, she'd have said something pithy, such as "Glad you can recognize your own face, Smedry. Be careful not to
Six months, eh ? I thought, eyeing Folsom. He didn't give any indication, but if it had been six months, I found it odd that we were still keeping track of Himalaya. Folsom and the king, I figured, must still worry that she was secretly a spy for the Librarians.
The booths around us filled quickly, and the parlor enjoyed quite a boost in business from my patronage. The owner must have noticed this, for he soon visited our table. "The famous A l catraz Smedry, in my humble establish ment!" he said. The pudgy man wore a pair of bright red-and-white-striped pants. He waved to one of his wait resses, who rushed over with a bowl filled with whipped cream. "Please have a band ana split on the house!"
" Bandana ?" I asked, cocking my head.
"They get a few things wrong here ,” Himalaya whis pered, "but it's still the closest you'll get to American food while in Nalhalla."
I nodded thankfully to the owner, who smiled with pleasure. He left a handful of mints on the table, though I don't quite know why, t hen went back to serving custom ers. I glanced at the dessert he'd provided. It was , indeed, a large bandana filled with ice cream. I tasted it hesitantly but it actually was kind of good, in an odd way. I couldn't quite place the flavor.
That probably should have worried me.
"Alcatraz Smedry," Folsom said, as if taking the name for a test drive. "I have to ad mit, your latest book was a dis appointment. One and a half stars out of five."
I had a moment of panic, thinking he referred to the second book of my auto biography. However, I soon reali zed that was silly, since it not only hadn't been written yet but I didn't even know that I would write it. I promptly stopped that line of thinking before I caused a temporal rift and ended up doing something silly, like killing a butterfly or interfering with mankind's first warp jump.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said, taking another bite of ice cream.
"Oh, I have it here somewhere," Folsom said, rifling in his shoulder b a g.
"I didn't think it was so bad," Himalaya said. "Of course, my tastes are tainted by ten years as a Librarian."
"Ten years?" I asked. She didn't look much older than twenty-five to me.
"I started young," she explained, playing idly with the mints on the table. "I apprenticed to a master Librarian after I'd proven my ability to use the reverse lighthouse system."
"The what?"
"That's when you arrange a group of books alphabeti cally based on the third letter of the author's mother's maiden name. Anyway, once I got in, the Librarians let me live the high life for a time – buttering me up with advanced reader copies of books and the occasional bagel in the break room. When I was eighteen, they began intro ducing me into the cult."
She shivered, as if remembering the horrors of those early days. I wasn't buying it, though. As pleasant as she was, I was still suspicious of her motives.
“ Ah," Folsom said, pulling something out of his pack. "Here it is." He set a book on the table – one that appeared to have a painting of me on the cover. Me riding an enor mous vacuum cleaner while wearing a sombrero. I held a flintlock rifle in one hand and what appeared to be a glo w ing, magical credit card in the other.
Alcatraz Smedry and the Mechanic's Wrench , it read.
"Oh, dear ,” Aunt Patty said. "Folsom, don't tell me you read those dreadful fantasy n ovels!"
"They're fun, Mother," he said. "Meaningless, really, but as a diversion I give the genre three out of four marks. This one here was terrible, though. It had all the elements of a great story – a my stical weapon, a boy on a jour ney, quirky sidekicks. But it ended up ruining itself by trying to say something important, rather than just being amusing."
"That's me!" I said, pointing at the cover.
If Bastille were there, she'd have said something pithy, such as "Glad you can recognize your own face, Smedry. Be careful not to
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