Alcatraz versus the Knights of Crystallia by Brandon Sanderson Page A
Authors: Brandon Sanderson
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away.
“ Anyway, you look better, lad! Did the old family rem edy work? We can try again if you want. . . ."
"No, I feel much better," I said, holding up my hands.
"Thanks, I guess. Though it was nice to feel like I had friends."
"You do have friends! Even if you are kind of ignoring them at the moment."
"Ignoring them?" I said. "I haven't been ignoring anyone."
"Oh? And where's Bastille?"
"She ran off on me," I said. "To be with the other knights."
Grandpa Smedry snorted. "To go on trial, you mean."
“ An unfair trial," I spat. "She didn't break her sword – it was my fault."
"Hum, yes," Grandpa Smedry said. "If only there were someone willing to speak on her behalf."
"Wait," I said. "I can do that?"
"What did I tell you about being a Smedry, lad?"
"That we could marry p eople," I said, "and arrest peo ple, and . . ." And that we could demand a right to testi fy in legal cases.
I stood up, shocked. "I've been an idiot!"
"I prefer the term 'nigglenut,"' Grandpa Smedry said. "Though that's probably because I just made it up and feel a certain paternal sense toward it." He smiled, winking.
"Is there still time?" I asked. "Before her trial, I mean?"
"It's been going on all afternoon," Grandpa Smedry said, pulling out an hourglass. “ And they're probably almost ready to render judgment. Getting there in time will be tricky. Limping Lowrys, if only we could teleport there via use of a magical glass box sitting in the basement of this very castle!"
He paused. "Oh, wait, we can!" He leaped to his feet. "Let's go! We're late!"
CHAPTER 10
T h ere's a dreadful form of torture in the Hushlands, devised by the Librarians. Though this is sup posed to be a book for all ages, I feel that it's time to confront this disturbing and cruel practice. Somebody has to be brave enough to shine a light on it.
That's right. It's time to talk about after-school specials.
After-school specials a re a type of television program ming that the Librarians put on right when children get home from school. The specials are usually about some kid who is struggling with a nonsensical problem like bullying, peer pressure, or gerbil snorting. We see the kid's life, his struggles, his problems – and then the show provides a nice, simple solution to tie everything up by the end.
The point of these progr ams, of course, is to be so bla tantly awful and painful to watch that the children wish they were back in school. That way, when they have to get up the next morning and do long division, they'll think: W ell, at least I'm not at ho me watching that terrible after- school special.
I include this explanation here for all of you in the Free Kingdoms so that you'll understand what I'm about to say. It's very important for you to understand that I don't want this book to sound like an after-school special.
I let my fame go to my head. The point of this book isn't to show how that's bad, it's to show the truth about me as a person. To show what I'm capable of. That first day in Nalhalla, I think, says a lot about who I am.
I don't even like hooberstackers.
Deep within the innards of Keep S medry, we approached a room with six guards standing out front. They saluted Grandpa S medry; he responded by wiggling his fingers at them. (He's like that sometimes.)
Inside, we discovered a group of people in black robes who were polishing a large metal box.
"That's quite the box," I said.
"Isn't it, though?" Grandpa Smedry said, smiling.
" S houldn't we be summoning a dragon or something to take us to Crystallia?"
"This will be faster," Grandpa Smedry said, waving over one of the people in robes. (Black robes are the Free Kingdoms' equivalent of a white lab coat. Black makes way more sense – this way, when the scientists blow themselves up, at least the robes have a chance of being salvageable.)
"Lord Smedry," the woman said. "We've applied for a Swap Time with Crystallia. E verything will be ready for you in about five minutes."
"Excellent,
“ Anyway, you look better, lad! Did the old family rem edy work? We can try again if you want. . . ."
"No, I feel much better," I said, holding up my hands.
"Thanks, I guess. Though it was nice to feel like I had friends."
"You do have friends! Even if you are kind of ignoring them at the moment."
"Ignoring them?" I said. "I haven't been ignoring anyone."
"Oh? And where's Bastille?"
"She ran off on me," I said. "To be with the other knights."
Grandpa Smedry snorted. "To go on trial, you mean."
“ An unfair trial," I spat. "She didn't break her sword – it was my fault."
"Hum, yes," Grandpa Smedry said. "If only there were someone willing to speak on her behalf."
"Wait," I said. "I can do that?"
"What did I tell you about being a Smedry, lad?"
"That we could marry p eople," I said, "and arrest peo ple, and . . ." And that we could demand a right to testi fy in legal cases.
I stood up, shocked. "I've been an idiot!"
"I prefer the term 'nigglenut,"' Grandpa Smedry said. "Though that's probably because I just made it up and feel a certain paternal sense toward it." He smiled, winking.
"Is there still time?" I asked. "Before her trial, I mean?"
"It's been going on all afternoon," Grandpa Smedry said, pulling out an hourglass. “ And they're probably almost ready to render judgment. Getting there in time will be tricky. Limping Lowrys, if only we could teleport there via use of a magical glass box sitting in the basement of this very castle!"
He paused. "Oh, wait, we can!" He leaped to his feet. "Let's go! We're late!"
CHAPTER 10
T h ere's a dreadful form of torture in the Hushlands, devised by the Librarians. Though this is sup posed to be a book for all ages, I feel that it's time to confront this disturbing and cruel practice. Somebody has to be brave enough to shine a light on it.
That's right. It's time to talk about after-school specials.
After-school specials a re a type of television program ming that the Librarians put on right when children get home from school. The specials are usually about some kid who is struggling with a nonsensical problem like bullying, peer pressure, or gerbil snorting. We see the kid's life, his struggles, his problems – and then the show provides a nice, simple solution to tie everything up by the end.
The point of these progr ams, of course, is to be so bla tantly awful and painful to watch that the children wish they were back in school. That way, when they have to get up the next morning and do long division, they'll think: W ell, at least I'm not at ho me watching that terrible after- school special.
I include this explanation here for all of you in the Free Kingdoms so that you'll understand what I'm about to say. It's very important for you to understand that I don't want this book to sound like an after-school special.
I let my fame go to my head. The point of this book isn't to show how that's bad, it's to show the truth about me as a person. To show what I'm capable of. That first day in Nalhalla, I think, says a lot about who I am.
I don't even like hooberstackers.
Deep within the innards of Keep S medry, we approached a room with six guards standing out front. They saluted Grandpa S medry; he responded by wiggling his fingers at them. (He's like that sometimes.)
Inside, we discovered a group of people in black robes who were polishing a large metal box.
"That's quite the box," I said.
"Isn't it, though?" Grandpa Smedry said, smiling.
" S houldn't we be summoning a dragon or something to take us to Crystallia?"
"This will be faster," Grandpa Smedry said, waving over one of the people in robes. (Black robes are the Free Kingdoms' equivalent of a white lab coat. Black makes way more sense – this way, when the scientists blow themselves up, at least the robes have a chance of being salvageable.)
"Lord Smedry," the woman said. "We've applied for a Swap Time with Crystallia. E verything will be ready for you in about five minutes."
"Excellent,
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