Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians

Oculator’s Lenses, I could feel a release of power – the Dark Oculator was activating the Torturer’s Lens. No! I thought, feeling helpless, remembering the awful pain.
    Grandpa Smedry lay with a pleasant expression on his face. “I say,” he said. “I don’t suppose I could bother you for a cup of milk? I’m getting a bit thirsty.”
    “Turtlenecks look good when the trees have no ears,” Quentin added.
    “Bah!” Blackburn said. “Answer my questions, old man! How do I bypass the Sentinel’s Glass of Ryshadium? How can I grow the crystals of Crystallia?” He released another burst of torturing power into Grandpa Smedry.
    “I really need to get going,” Grandpa Smedry said. “I’m late – I don’t suppose we could call it a day?”
    Blackburn screamed in frustration, taking off his Torturer’s Lens and looking at it with an annoyed eye. “You!” he snapped to a guard that I couldn’t see.
    “Uh… yes, my lord?” a voice asked.
    “Stand right there,” Blackburn said, putting on the monocle. I sensed another wave of power.
    The guard screamed. I couldn’t see him crumple, but I could hear it – and I could hear the pain, the utter agony, in the poor man’s voice. I cringed, closing my eyes and gritting my teeth against the awful sound as I remembered that brief moment when I had felt Blackburn’s fury.
    I had to work hard to keep myself from fleeing right then. But I stayed. I’ll point out that now, looking back, I don’t consider this bravery – just stupidity.
    The guard stopped screaming, then began to whimper.
    “Hmm,” Blackburn said. “The Lens works perfectly. Your Talent is stronger than I had anticipated, old man. But it can’t protect forever! Soon you’ll know the pain!”
    Bastille suddenly grabbed my arm – she was still watching through the crack beside me. “He’s arriving late for the pain!” she said in an excited whisper. “Such power… to put off an abstract sensation. It’s amazing.”
    I noted the look of relief in Bastille’s face. She does care, I realized. Despite all the grumbling, despite all the complaints. She really was worried about him.
    “What’s going on?” Sing whispered. He was too big to fit beside the door with the two of us.
    “Old Smedry is handling the torture with poise,” Bastille said. “But Quentin looks like he’s had a hard time.”
    “Is he babbling?” Sing asked.
    Bastille nodded.
    “Then he’s gone into anti-information mode,” Sing said. “He can engage his Talent so that it translates everything he says into gibberish. He can’t turn it off, even if he wants to – not until it wears off a day later.”
    “That’s why he makes such a good spy,” I realized. “He can’t betray secrets – they can’t force him to talk, no matter how hard they try!”
    Sing nodded.
    Inside the room, Blackburn stomped around the table. He grabbed a knife from a rack of torturing implements, then rammed it toward Grandpa Smedry’s leg. It missed, sliding just to the side, and Blackburn swore in frustration. He held the knife up, steadied his hand, then carefully plunged it down again.
    This time, it hit Grandpa’s leg and jabbed directly into the flesh.
    “Shattered Glass,” Bastille cursed. “The knife is too advanced a weapon – it can get past old Smedry’s Talent.”
    I stared in shock at the cut in my grandfather’s leg. No blood came out, however.
    “It’s a good thing I don’t need to go to the bathroom,” Grandpa Smedry said in a cheerful voice. “That would be embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”
    “We have to do something,” Bastille said urgently. “He’s powerful, but he can’t hold back the pain – or the wounds – forever.”
    “But we can’t fight a Dark Oculator,” Sing said. “Especially not without your sword, Bastille.”
    I stood. “Then we’ll have to get him to leave Grandpa alone. Come on!” With that, I rushed down the hallway. Bastille and Sing followed in a dash.
    “Alcatraz!” Bastille said as soon as we were a safe distance from the torture room. “What are you planning?”
    “We need a distraction,” I said. “Something that will draw Blackburn away long enough for us to get in and rescue Grandpa Smedry. And I think I know of one.”
    Bastille was about to object, but at that moment Sing tripped. Bastille and I ducked to the side just as a pair of bow-tied, sword-carrying Librarian soldiers came up out of the stairwell ahead. Bastille cursed, dashing toward them