Guardian Cats and the Lost Books of Alexandria

Chapter 9: The last peaceful moment

‘What journey?’ wondered Marco. He thought Cicero wanted to show him a book. What other kind of adventure would be in the library?

“Do you believe in destiny?”

Marco had no idea what destiny was, but he wasn’t about to admit it. He chanced an answer. “Sure.”

“Good. Because I think it is no mistake, your coming here. Especially tonight.” Cicero jumped down from the table and peered deep into Marco’s eyes. “By the way, how did you learn to read?”

Marco backed up from the intensity of Cicero’s gaze. “It… it was a girl. I don’t know if she was intending to. One night, the words started making sense on their own. But it was Lucy who read aloud to me at first.”

“Human transmission. Interesting. Reading is normally passed down from one of your elders.” Cicero paced the length of the table. From a high place, a warm glow appeared. Marco sat on the floor, feeling small and insignificant.

“I want to show you a book. A book that is both here and not here.”

The warm glow strayed from its position, causing Cicero’s shadow to shift and leap onto a wall of books. He looked larger than life in that dark, book-cluttered room.

“But I’m afraid I must delay your introduction to the Book, because there is a human I want you to meet first.”

Then, as if there was no question about it, Cicero said, “Come.”

Spellbound, Marco followed him down to the library’s main floor, up onto an antique hutch that held a display of classic children’s books. They were staring at their images in a mirror.

Marco thought this must be routine behavior for a library cat, but he found it disturbing to look at the ‘ghost cat’ in the mirror. He squirmed.

“Be still,” Cicero instructed. “This will be a different kind of traveling. From here on out, be prepared for anything. Things are not always as they appear. This mirror, for instance.”

Cicero and his mirror twin nodded towards the floating light that had followed along and their images vanished. Then the mirror vanished, leaving a gaping black hole which Cicero walked through, as though it were something he did every night.

Marco sniffed the edges of where the mirror had been. He was cautious about going through doors, especially ones which magically appeared out of nowhere. He looked for evidence of the vanished mirror and found none. But Cicero had disappeared and his curiosity pushed him onwards. He gingerly stepped through the frame into the darkness.

Nothing was the same on the other side. He was in a narrow passageway with rock walls, like a cave. Cold stone steps led downwards into more darkness. He peered into the hollow blackness and fought a sense of panic. The opening he had passed through had closed. Marco was trapped.

Cicero called up from below, a bodiless voice in the void. “Don’t be afraid. Think of it as an adventure.”

Marco took the first step. This didn’t seem like adventures he read about in books. There was no enemy, nothing to fight against. No swords, no pirates. Only the soft bouncing light and his jagged shadow on the rock wall accompanied his descent.

When he reached a platform, the walls on one side dropped away. They were in a deep cavern, even darker and more boundless than the stairways.

But Cicero wasn’t looking out through the railing into the cavern. Marco turned to face the rock wall and found there was a door, just a regular door. For some reason, this small bit of familiarity comforted Marco.

The door creaked open. The floating light led the way, and this time Marco did not hesitate to follow.

The room was nothing more than a small cave. Marco explored its nooks and crannies while Cicero waited, but the room was occupied only by a single wooden table. Why did Cicero bring him to such a strange place? He jumped up to join Cicero on the table and saw what he couldn’t see from the floor.

“You must not tell anyone about this,” Cicero said.

What was there to tell? There was a box. Sitting on a table. It smelled nice but that was about it.

“Don’t think that this is an ordinary box,” Cicero said. “Why do you think it is hidden in such a place?” he asked, then answered his own question. “Only something of value needs this kind of protection.”

Marco wondered what was in the box, but he didn’t ask. Cicero seemed to be asking all the questions. “Do you know what a sentinel is?”

“Um…” Marco started, but had no answer.

“A sentinel is like… a soldier.” Cicero paused, then smiled slightly and nodded. “A quiet soldier. Yes, I like that description,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.

“Cats are sentinels…” he continued. “Foolish humans, the ones who don’t understand us, think we do nothing but sleep. What they do not know…” his voice trailed off. “They are a full time job, this responsibility of human caretaking.”

Marco didn’t know it, but this wouldn’t be the last time Cicero would ramble on about his theory of humans and other favorite topics.

“They are well disposed—humans who take us for a friend. We are ever alert, even when we appear to be napping. We do not sleep in the manner of dogs. Our ears are attuned to frequencies beyond this world.”

Marco wished Cicero would explain why they were so far underground, but Cicero wasn’t through explaining other things.

“It was natural that we were chosen to be sentinels, or guardians of the books, as well. Not only ordinary books, but now… Now, I must show you the real reason why I am the library cat.”

Cicero lowered his voice, even though no one was around. “I must take you on a journey. To another place. Another time. There you will meet the original Guardians.”

Cicero brought his attention full onto Marco. “Are you ready?”

“Sure,” agreed Marco. Cicero was eccentric, but he wasn’t dangerous, like the alley cats, and Marco was curious to see where Cicero would take him.

“All right then. Close your eyes,” Cicero directed. “And whatever you do, don’t open them until we get there.”

They were sitting on the table, like bookends, their noses close enough that Marco felt warm puffs of Cicero's breath. A soft humming stirred the air. He had to peek.

“Keep them closed!” ordered Cicero.

Marco slammed his eyes shut and tried to copy Cicero. He didn’t know what to think about, so he pictured Lucy. Something fluttered above his head and the soft humming grew distant. Something was quivering, but it was hard to tell if it came from outside or inside of him.

“Alaniah, I believe we are ready,” Cicero called out to the darkness.

Marco felt a tingling, then an odd sense of floating, as though he’d left his body. It was an unusual, but not unpleasant feeling. He wondered if they were on a boat, rocking on ocean waves. The rising and falling made him drowsy. It was the last peaceful moment of their trip.