The Library - The Complete Series by Amy Cross

I'm actually in a giant library filled with weird creatures like..." I stare at Sharpe for a moment.
    "It's okay," he replies, "you can say it."
    "Never mind."
    "Go on," he says, staring at me. "I know it's what you're thinking."
    "You know what I mean," I continue. "You're just not like anything I've seen in my world. You and Vanguard both seem very real, but that's how hallucinations and dreams work. They always seem real at the time. They have to be like that, otherwise they wouldn't be convincing. But at the end of the day, I know that this is all just some kind of fantasy. It's in my head, and I have to escape. The alternative would be to just sit around here and wait for my body to die."
    "I guess I can't change your mind," he replies. "Come on, we need to keep up with him."
    We start walking again, with Vanguard having already gained quite a march on us. "You know," I say, "there's one thing I haven't asked you yet. What the hell were you doing in my house last night?"
    "Oh, nothing," he says. "Like you said, I'm probably just a figment of your imagination, so I probably had no motives whatsoever. I don't know why you're even wasting your breath on this conversation."
    "I didn't mean it like that," I reply. "I just -"
    "Sorry," he says, interrupting me, "I'd love to chat, but I'm busy."
    We keep walking. "Busy?" I ask.
    "Too busy to talk."
    Sighing, I realize I've offended him. I guess I can understand that; if he were real, he'd probably be pissed off at the way I keep insisting that he's imaginary. But the truth is: I'm right. I have to be. There's simply no way I could have been transported to some completely different world. That's the kind of thing that happens in books and movies, not in real life. Still, I should probably keep my opinions to myself. After all, the last thing I want to do is offend my own subconscious mind. I'm going to need all the help I can get to find my way out of this place. Looking ahead, I focus on the distant Citadel; even from a distance of many miles, I can see that there seems to be some serious damage to the side of the structure, as if some kind of traumatic incident has ripped some of the stonework aside. Overall, it doesn't look like the most welcoming place I've ever seen. I can't help thinking that if that place is our best hope, we're in a lot more trouble than I'd realized.

Vanguard
     
    We're being followed.
    I can feel it in my blood, and on the back of my neck. I have not shared my suspicions with Sharpe or the human girl, but I am quite certain: for at least the past two hours, someone or something has been tracking us. Whatever it is, it has kept a discreet distance, never coming closer than fifty meters. Were it not for my enhanced sense of smell, combined with my ability to sense the slightest tremor in the ground, I would be none the wiser. Unfortunately for this secretive shadow, I am constantly on the alert, so I am more than aware of what is happening. The only questions relate to the motive: who is following us, and why, and what is their intent?
    At least I can rule out the Forbidders. They spend all their time up on top of the shelves, scuttling along out of sight. Whoever is following us at the moment, it is a creature that moves along the ground. Besides, the Forbidders seem to be a more subtle and careful race, so I doubt they would make their presence known so easily. We are being tracked by an entity that is very good at such pursuit, but still far from expert. For this reason alone, I am convinced that we are in no imminent danger; this is not someone who wishes to attack us, but rather someone who wishes to keep track of our movements and - I imagine - report back to some other force.
    "The human is flagging," says Sharpe, hurrying to catch up to me.
    "We walk until sunset," I reply, not even bothering to look down at him.
    "I don't know if she can manage that," he says. "She's been struggling for a while."
Glancing back, I see that he's right: the human