Jasper Fforde Thursday Next 3 Lost in a Good Book

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your perfidy!'
'What do you reckon?' I said to Harris. 'His indignation seems real.'
'It does but he has less to gain from this than Kaine.'
'You're right my money's on Kaine.'
'What are you talking about?!' demanded Kaine angrily. 'The manuscript belongs
to literature how do you think you can sell something like this on the open
market? You may think you can get away with it, but I will die before I allow
you to remove the literary heritage that belongs to all of us!'
'Well, I don't know,' I added, 'Kaine is pretty convincing too.'
'Remember, he's a politician.'
'Of course,' I returned, snapping my fingers. 'I'd forgotten. What if it's
neither?'
I didn't have time to answer as there was a crash from somewhere near the
front of the house and the sound of an explosion. A low, guttural moan reached
our ears followed by the terrified scream of a man in mortal terror. A shiver
ran up my spine, and I could see that everyone else in the room had felt it
too.
Even the implacable Raffles paused for a moment before returning to work with
just a little bit more urgency.
'Cat!' exclaimed Harris. 'What's going on?'
23
'The Questing Beast?' exclaimed Tweed. 'The Glatisant? Summon King Pellinore
immediately
.'
24
'The Questing Beast?' I asked. 'Is that bad?'
'Bad?' replied Harris. 'It's the worst
. The Questing Beast was born in the oral tradition before books so every dark
horror that sprang from the human imagination owes its existence to the
ancient Glatisant. It has many names but its goal is always the same death and
destruction. As soon as it comes through the door anyone still here will be
stone cold dead.'
'Through the vault door?'
'There is no barrier yet created that can withstand the Questing Beast
except a Pellinore; they have hunted it for years!'
Harris turned to Kaine and Volescamper.
'But there's one thing it does tell us. One of you is fictional. One of you
has invoked the Questing Beast. I
want to know who it is!'
The two prisoners looked at Tweed in a confused manner. There was another low
moan, the light machine-gun at the front door fell silent and a splintering of
wood met our ears as the Questing Beast forced its way through the main
entrance and moved its odious form closer to the library.
'Cat!' yelled Tweed again 'Where's that King Pellinore I asked for?'
25
'Keep trying, cat,' muttered Tweed. 'We've still got a few minutes. Next
have you any ideas?'
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I shook my head. Events were running ahead of me.
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Jasper Fforde - Thursday Next 02 - Lost in a Good Book
There was a crunching sound as the Questing Beast made its way down the
corridor amid screams of terror and sporadic rifle fire.
'Raffles?' yelled Tweed. 'How long?'
'Two minutes, old chum,' replied the safe-cracker without pausing or looking
up. He had finished drilling the hole, made a small cup out of clay, stuck it
against the side of the safe and was now pouring in what looked like liquid
nitrogen.
The battle outside seemed to increase in ferocity with shouts, concussions
from grenades, screams and the sound of automatic weaponry until, after an
almighty crash that shook the ceiling lights and rattled books from their
shelves, all was quiet.
We looked at one another. Even Volescamper and Kaine were quiet. Then a gentle
tap sounded on the other side of the steel door. There was a pause, then
another.
'Thank goodness!' said Tweed in relief. 'King Pellinore must have arrived and
seen it off. Miss Next, open the door.'
But I didn't. Suspicious of loathsome beasts from the deepest recesses of the
human imagination, I stayed my hand. It was as well that I did. The next blow
was harder. The blow following that was even more violent; the vault door
buckled slightly.
'Blast!' exclaimed Tweed. 'Why is there never a Pellinore around when you need
one? Raffles, we don't have much time!'
'Just a few minutes more & ' replied Raffles quietly, tapping the safe door
with a hammer while Bunny pulled on the brass handle.
Tweed looked at me as the library door buckled under another heavy blow; a
large split opened in the steel and the locking wheel sheared off and dropped
to the ground. It wouldn't be long now.
'Okay,' said Tweed reluctantly, grabbing my elbow in anticipation of a jump,
'that's it. Raffles, Bunny, out of here!'
'Just a few moments longer & ' replied the safe-cracker, who was used to tight
deadlines and didn't like to give up on a safe, no matter what the possible
consequences.
The steel door buckled as the Questing Beast charged it with a deafening
crash; books fell off the shelves in a cloud of dust. Then, as the Questing
Beast pulled itself back for another blow, I had the one thing that had eluded
me for the past half hour.
An idea
. I pulled Tweed close to me and whispered in his ear
'No!' he said. 'What if ?'
I explained again, he smiled and gave me a nod and I began:
'So one of you is fictional,' I announced, looking at them both.
'And we have to find out who it is,' remarked Tweed, levelling his pistol in
their direction.
'Might it be Yorrick Kaine ' I added, staring at Kaine who glared back at me,
wondering what we were up to.
' failed right wing politician '
' with a cheery enthusiasm for war '
' and putting a lid on civil liberties.'
Tweed and I bantered lines back and forth for as long as we dared, faster and
faster, the blows from the
Beast outside matching the blows from Raffles' hammer within.
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Jasper Fforde - Thursday Next 02 - Lost in a Good Book
'Or perhaps it is Volescamper '
' Lord of the old realm who wants '
' to try and get '
' back into power with the help '
' of his friends in the Whig party?'
'
But the important thing is, in all this dialogue '
' that has pitched back and forward between '
' the two of us, a fictional person '
' might have lost track of which one of us is talking.'
'And do you know, in all the excitement, I kind of forgot myself!
'
There was another crash against the door. A splinter of steel flew off and
zipped past my ear. The doors were almost breached, the next blow would bring
the abomination within the room.
'So you're going to have to ask yourselves one simple question:
Which one of us is speaking now
?'
'You are!' yelled Volescamper, pointing correctly at me. Kaine, revealing
his fictional roots by his inability to follow undedicated dialogue, pointed
his finger at
Tweed
.
He corrected himself quickly but it was too late for the politician and he
knew it. He scowled at the two of us, trembling with rage. His charming manner
seemed to desert him as we sprang the trap; suaveness gave way to snarling,
smooth politeness to clumsy threats.
'Now listen,' growled Kaine, trying to regain control of the situation, 'you
two are way in over your heads.
Try to arrest me and I can make things very difficult for you one
Footnoterphone call from me and the pair of you will spend the next eternity
on grammasite watch inside the
OED
'
But Tweed was made of stern stuff, too.
'I've closed bloopholes in
Dracula and
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