Coffin Island (3 page)

“
Nobody has been able to
kill me on this island because of the power that resides within
me,” Madison said. “It’s all the protection that I need. Half of
the witches that I have killed disappeared while trying to attack
me. Flocks of them have come after me. The dragons can’t even kill
me now. They can’t hold me still long enough to truly set me on
fire. They have burned plenty of holes in me but I recover fast. I
find it quite exhilarating actually. You feel strangely alive. The
edges of death are folding around you.”

“
It sounds terrific,” I
said.

“
You will get addicted to it
too,” Madison grinned.

“
I don’t think so,” I
said.

“
Some witches refuse to
fight,” Madison shrugged.

“
What happens to the
pacifist witches?” I asked curiously.

“
I kill them,” Madison said.
“Then lock them in their coffins.”

“
You can’t do that to me?” I
asked.

“
You get to decide,” Madison
said. “Choose wisely.”

“
I’ll fight if it means
getting out of here,” I said.

“
Do you want to kill all the
witches on Coffin Island?” Madison asked greedily. “They’re hiding
from me right now. However I know their hiding spots. I enjoy
flushing them out.”

Hundreds of shadowy figures dashed
through The Great Hall which was continuing to unfold in front of
us as we walked through it. Passages suddenly appeared for all the
witches and wombats that were running. Some flaming creatures
chased after them. There were a few dragons roaring after
them.

“
You better run,” Madison
shouted. “It’s an absolute nightmare to get out of this
maze.”

“
I hate architectural
witchcraft,” I said. “My nanny used to delight in it.”

“
It’s an intellectual
exercise that seemingly has no purpose,” Madison said. “I wish
someone would teach me how to undo it.”

“
Or teach us how to simplify
it,” I agreed.

“
We must walk our way out of
it the old fashioned way,” Madison shrugged. “I am not permitted to
fly in The Great Hall. Witchcraft clips my wings when I need them
most. That’s witchcraft in a nutshell on Coffin Island. I suppose
your first lesson on witchcraft on Coffin Island is concluded. How
would you rate me as an instructor? I enjoy harsh feedback so
please do not hold back.”

“
What about the teachers on
the island?” I asked. “Shouldn’t they be teaching us
something?”

“
They’re in a prison within
this prison,” Madison said.

“
Why don’t you ask them to
help you?” I asked.

“
What good is a prison that
permits visitors?” Madison asked.

“
What about the wombats?” I
asked. “Don’t they have any helpful advice?”

“
They’re just witchcraft
encased in an animal,” Madison said. “You can’t trust
them.”

“
Who is in-charge here,” I
demanded.

“
Witchcraft,” Madison said.
“I already told you that.”

“
I thought all that horrible
witchcraft was behind me,” I gasped.

“
Being a witch here is
incredible,” Madison said. “The biggest problem is
witchcraft.”

“
Sounds like a bit of a
conundrum,” I said.

“
That’s witchcraft for you,”
Madison said.

Chapter

“
Ignorance is not bliss on
Coffin Island,” Madison said as we slid down into the library which
had a vaulted floor. “It is deeply annoying. I am dying to read all
these books.”

Millions of books were floating in the
ceiling of the library. A satellite system of books rotated around
a mother cloud of books. There was an entire galaxy of books in the
ceiling? It was moving around like a solar system?

“
How can they do that?” I
asked. “How can books float without goblins?”

“
Witchcraft delights in
upending common knowledge,” Madison laughed. “Books float without
goblins on Coffin Island.”

“
Why are the books floating
without goblins?” I asked. “What is the purpose?”

“
To make you crave
knowledge,” Madison said.

“
It’s working,” I said. “I’m
dying to read those books.”

“
This is the only school
that the teachers are not only absent,” Madison said. “They are
actively trying to keep the pupils ignorant.”

“
We should school these
teachers,” I suggested.

“
That’s precisely what I
propose to do,” Madison said.

Madison and I walked across the domed
floor. We walked in deep wooden panels. The floor of the library
was domed?

There was also some sort of flaming
creature walking around on the flat marble ceiling of the library.
The solar system of books rotated. The creature came into view. He
peered down at us with his burning eyes. He was a flaming
ape.

“
That is the librarian,”
Madison said.

“
He won’t let you read
anything?” I asked.

“
Nope,” Madison
said.

Millions of books were floating over my
head in planetary formation. The library was some sort of galaxy of
the written word. The entire canon of witchcraft was floating above
my head? I didn’t like that. I can tell you that. I aimed to fix it
somehow too.

“
Do all those books have
witchcraft in them?” I asked.

“
Which is why you cannot
call them down,” Madison said.

“
All the witchcraft of the
ancient world is just beyond our grasp?” I asked.

“This is one of the great treasures of
our race,” Madison said. “Although it is somewhat questionable
whether we are a race or have treasures. I just figure that there
is something special about these books. The flaming ape suggests
it. What do you think?”

“
Why don’t you get a net?” I
asked.

“
The books are extremely
dangerous,” Madison said. “They have not been suspended in space
for thousands of years with no visible signs of degradation because
of magical neglect. They are protected by very ancient witchcraft.
The wombats avoid the library at all costs. The books will kill
them.”

“
More reason to not go up
there,” I said.

“
You mean down,” Madison
said. “The library is upside down. You are standing on the ceiling
of the library.”

The library was upside down. We were
walking around in the vaulted ceiling. The flaming librarian was
pacing the floor. The chandeliers were hanging upside down. The
furniture was floating in space. Oriental rugs were moving around
like jellyfish. Book ladders ran in the wrong direction. Sculptures
were floating around. It reminded me of when my mother fired our
banshee housekeeper. She turned our house upside down on her last
day. Things were beginning to come into much clearer focus. We just
needed a troop of banshees to straighten out The Coffin Island
School for Witchcraft. Perhaps a few tinkers too. They had plenty
of tools in their donkey carts.

“
Years of my life have been
wasted in this library learning nothing,” Madison said. “Or perhaps
it was just a second. The book solar system runs independently of
the hourglass. Or rather it is a competitive time zone. I enjoy a
little friendly competition in my time zones.”

“
There are two different
time zones on Coffin Island,” I gasped.

My goblin nanny used to rewind time
when I wouldn’t eat my vegetables. I had to sit in my highchair for
decades. Now I was really beginning to get furious.

“
That is the sum of my
knowledge of the library of the Coffin Island School for Witches of
which I have learned nothing,” Madison said. “Or rather I have
learned that these books are not going to teach me. Even the
simpleton witches grasp that. Although some of the more ignorant
ones learn this posthumously after the books kill them. I enjoy
that particular Coffin Island inversion.”

“
It works on several
levels,” I said.

“
Witchcraft often does,”
Madison said.

“
Except when it’s not
working,” I said.

“
In that instance,” Madison
said. “It is attempting to lull us into complacency.”

“
Or it is resting for its
next assault,” I said.

“
That too,” Madison
nodded.

“
It’s a tricky little fish,”
I said.

“
Witchcraft will demonstrate
that concept for you,” Madison said. “Reach for the
books.”

I reached for the books but they moved
away. I stopped moving. The books moved back towards me. I reached
for them again. They moved even closer to me. I rushed towards
them. They darted away. They were taunting me to follow them. They
were trying to lure me within striking distance of Flash. Nice try
with the flaming ape witchcraft, I thought.

“
I knew it,” I
said.

“
They’re trying to kill us,”
Madison confirmed.

“
They’re trying to burn us,”
I said.

“
Learning kills,” Madison
snorted.

The flaming ape was bouncing up and
down on the ceiling. He kept jumping up and down. He was landing
back on the ceiling with a fiery thud. Gravity was reversed for
him. Or rather gravity was reversed for us. He was screeching fire.
He was pounding his flaming chest.

“
We call him Flash because
he moves pretty fast,” Madison said. “He protects the mother cloud
of books.”

“
Flash is stuck to the
ceiling?” I asked.

“
He can’t come down here for
a proper fight,” Madison said.

“
That’s too bad,” I said
sarcastically. “He has to stay up there and do his illuminating
thing.”

“
You’ll feel differently
when you have to fight him up there in the ceiling,” Madison said.
“His gravity is the opposite of ours. We are not made out of water.
Flash is made out of fire.”

“
I don’t plan on going near
him,” I said.

“
You can hear the books from
here?” Madison asked.

“
Hear the books?” I
asked.

“
The books speak in a
language that no longer exists,” Madison said. “We call it mumbo
jumbo because the books are kind of insulting. You’ll
see.”

“
The books speak?” I asked.
“What are they saying?”

“
They are in communication
with each other,” Madison shrugged.

“
The writers are talking to
each other?” I asked.

“
The writers are dead,”
Madison said.

“
How are the books talking
to each other?” I asked.

“
The books have taken on a
life of their own,” Madison said.

“
They’ve moved past their
authors,” I said.

“
Or the dead writers are
living in a new capacity,” Madison said. “Perhaps they are ghosts
after all.”

I had several ghosts growing
up.

“
What are they saying?” I
asked.

“
They’re debating literary
theory,” Madison said.

“
That’s a good occupation
for ghosts,” I said.

“
And then there is the more
practical matter that they have up their dust jacket,” Madison
said.

“
What’s that?” I asked. “I
shudder to ask.”

“
Do remember how I told you
that the teachers are in a prison within this prison?” Madison
asked.

“
The teachers are in the
books?” I gasped.

“
Where else would they be?”
Madison asked.

“
Why would the books take
them prisoner?” I asked.

“
The teachers tried to burn
the books,” Madison said.

“
Why did they do that?” I
asked.

“
To prevent us from
learning,” Madison said.

“
How did the teachers get
into the books?” I asked.

“
The books devoured them,”
Madison said.

“
Serves them right,” I
said.

“
The books have been holding
the teachers for four hundred years,” Madison said. “Library time
is relatively reliable.”

“
When do they come up for
parole?” I asked.

“
They don’t,” Madison
said.

“
Don’t do the crime if you
can’t do the time,” I said.

“
I’d like to free the
teachers,” Madison laughed.

“
They don’t sound like very
good teachers,” I said.

“
We have to demonstrate that
we are more powerful than the teachers,” Madison said. “We have to
demonstrate that we are more powerful than the books.”

“
How do you propose to do
that?” I asked.

“
We have to burn the
library,” Madison said.

“
Burn the library?” I
asked.

“
Why do you think that Flash
is here?” Madison asked.