The Library (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 1)

by Casey White

  Another wing of the Library stretched out past the junction ahead of them. Wooden bookshelves stretched taller than even Jean, stacked one on top of another with ladders mounted to their fronts. Stained glass dotted the walls, letting in light that sparkled with flashes of red and yellow.

  But there, meandering through the rows of bookshelves, he saw it.

  Someone walking.

  He leapt back behind her with a muted cry, pressing his face to the small of her back. Someone else? Here? Where there should only be him and Jean? And they were glowing, lit from within with an eerie blue light that cast flickers across the ground.

  High overhead, Jean sighed. He felt her moving, stooping lower. Her hands settled onto his shoulders a moment later, her forehead pressing into his hair. “There’s no reason to be afraid, Daniel.”

  “B-But, that’s a-”

  “It’s a dreamer.”

  His blubbering faded. Her fingers slipped under his chin, lifting his face to meet hers. “Dreamers?” he whispered.

  Jean smiled, her green eyes soft. “This is our duty. There’s nothing to fear.”

  His eyes darted back to the bookshelves. That shape still stalked between the rows, lighting the floor with its passage.

  And yet...Jean didn’t seem afraid. If she wasn’t, then it was fine. Right?

  He wiped at his nose, still casting wary looks toward the...the dreamer, but nodded.

  When Jean held her hand out, he took it, letting her engulf him.

  Together, they walked into that mammoth wing. His skin crawled, the hairs standing on end as they got closer and closer to the...the thing.

  It was a man, his eyes searching the rows of books. His hands roamed the spines, tracing out the lettering on each title. A low hiss filled Daniel’s ears as the specter muttered name after name.

  “What’s he doing?” Daniel whispered, drawing closer to Jean’s side.

  The Librarian slowed, coming to a stop a few paces away from the glowing man. “He’s looking,” she said, not a hint of fear in her voice.

  Daniel screwed up his face. “For what?”

  Jean chuckled softly, shaking her head. “It’s difficult to say. The dreamers are the souls of the departed. The lost. Those who need answers, who crave them more than anything.”

  He shivered. “Then they’re...dead?”

  Her hand wrapped about his. “Does that scare you?”

  For a moment, he hesitated. It did. But with her there, he couldn’t bring himself to say so. “N-No.” The man continued his search. Daniel screwed his face up, watching his hands move across the books. “Then...They come to Alexandria looking for-”

  “Exactly,” Jean murmured, giving his hand a squeeze. “We have the answers they need - and thus they wind up here. Understand?”

  No, not really. But Daniel bobbed his head in agreement anyway.

  Jean let him go, then, stepping forward. For a moment, her head turned, pointing back toward Daniel. “Sometimes they just...need help,” she said. “A friendly face. A hand to point the way, to help them move on.”

  He watched, transfixed, as she turned away again - and rested her hand on the dreamer’s shoulder.

  The man twitched, his head snapping to face her. His eyes were black orbs in his glowing face, fixed onto Jean’s. “It’s got to be around here somewhere,” he whispered.

  “I know,” Jean said, taking a step closer.

  “I know it is. She told me - she always loved that place. She wanted to see it again. I always said I’d see it too, that I’d take her. And then, she...she...” The man’s eyes glistened, and he swallowed. “So I thought-”

  “I know,” Jean murmured again, letting her gaze drift to the books. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

  She slid her hand to the dreamer’s back, letting the man mumble into her ear. She nodded once, and then again.

  To Daniel’s horror, she turned, leading the dreamer farther into the Library. He flinched, darting forward, but stopped when the dreamer glanced back to him.

  “You’re fine,” Jean said. He looked up, finding her watching him again. She smiled encouragingly. “Come along, Daniel.”

  Without another word, she and the dreamer continued on their way.

  He hesitated a moment longer. The man was...something about him terrified Daniel, something in the way he seemed disconnected from the here and now. With the rest of the Library dark, and eerily quiet, and...

  Daniel shook his head. He was the Librarian’s apprentice. Alexandria was his. Jean’s words hung in his ears - there was no reason to be afraid.

  Raising his hand, he furrowed his brow, glaring at his palm. Simple. It was simple. He was the Librarian-to-be, and this space was his. If he wanted something-

  A fireball flared, exploding over his palm in warm, merry colors. His eyes lit up. Exhaling slowly, he watched it condense, settling into a tiny orb that cast a comforting light over the books around him.

  The Library would listen. It would provide.

  Hurrying forward, he scurried after Jean and the dreamer.

  * * * * *

  He watched, rapt, as they swept down aisle after aisle. Jean pulled out tome after tome, showing it to the dreamer.

  Each time, the glowing man shook his head, his eyes widening with barely-contained panic. And just as quickly, Jean would place her hand back on his shoulder, quieting him. Down another row they’d go.

  Where was she leading him? Daniel peered up the rows of books, looking for some sort of system of organization, but they seemed entirely random. History texts languished alongside books of mathematics, right next to a handwritten journal he could barely make out.

  Jean didn’t seem to mind, he realized. She watched their dreaming friend as much as the books, her eyes narrow and sharp even while her voice remained soft and quiet. It was as though she was letting the man lead, even while she guided him through their home.

  Sometimes they just need a helping hand. Daniel let his breath slide out, standing a little taller. The man had been scary at first, but he hadn’t attacked either of them. He hadn’t done anything but look at the books. That wasn’t so bad. Little by little, he found himself relaxing, until even the fireball he’d clutched so protectively faded to nothing.

  He’d almost forgotten what they were doing when the man lunged forward, grabbing something off the shelf. Unable to stop himself, Daniel inched closer, raising himself to the tips of his toes.

  He caught sight of a woman on the cover, her smile warm and shy. It vanished as the dreamer pulled the book open, lifting it toward his face.

  The light within him grew, like a switch had been flipped. His skin shone brighter and brighter, until Daniel had to look away.

  Jean’s hand slid across his shoulder. “There,” she said.

  He cracked one eye open, squinting up at her. “What’s...What’s he...”

  “He was looking for an answer,” Jean said. “Now he’s got it. He’ll take in that information, and then be on his way. There’s nothing more for us here.”

  “Oh.”

  She chuckled faintly. “This is what we Librarians do, Daniel. That man is a visitor, someone worthy of our help.”

  He nodded. “Right.”

  Her fingers pressed into his jacket, nudging him along in front of her. “Now, hurry up. We’ve got plenty of time left, and I’d like to see you work on that shield a while longer.”

  Daniel wrinkled his nose, but didn’t argue. The bookshelves scrolled past, wiping out the dreamer behind their rows and texts.

  Jean sighed as they turned down the hallway. He glanced back. She’d pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes shut tight. Crows’ feet dug into the otherwise-smooth skin of her forehead, oddly out of place.

  “Are...you all right?” he ventured, slowing.

  She cracked an eye open, still frowning. “What?”

  “Only...you seem...”

  “Oh,” she said, and let her hand fall. “I’m fine. Just...tired. Dreamer
s can be so damned stubborn sometimes.”

  She’d almost caught up to him by then, even with only his brief hesitation. He hurried himself along, his head swinging back and forth between her and the hallway ahead. Farther down, the double doors leading outside appeared from behind a stone wall. “Well...”

  “Spit it out, kid.”

  “You could have just left him,” he said, his voice low and guilty. “If he made you angry. If he made you hurt.”

  With his gaze fixed on the doors, it took a long moment for him to realize the steps behind him had stopped. Stumbling to a halt, he looked back.

  Jean waited a few paces back, frowning down at him.

  Instantly, he flushed. What? What had he said? He’d only suggested she-

  Her eyes slid shut, long black lashes dropping like a curtain. Her shoulders slumped, like she’d let out a long breath of air. And then her eyes slit back open.

  “You must never ignore a dreamer, Daniel,” she said. He shivered. Her tone was entirely different from moments before, with any trace of tolerant amusement gone. “The Library is here to be read. Helping guests like the dreamers is our job. And if you ignore a dreamer for too long...” She shook her head again, her lips pressed together tightly.

  “W-What?” Daniel said, falling back half a step. “What then?”

  “Dreamers are the lost,” she said, more gently. “I told you that much before.”

  “Yeah.”

  “They’re brought here by raw emotion, by need.”

  His gut twisted uncomfortably. Jean had repeated her lessons often enough for him to know what came next. “...Yeah.”

  “If that emotion is left to fester, it can grow more potent still,” Jean said, her eyes dark. “And if the Librarians will not see to it, the Library itself might be called to respond instead.”

  Daniel’s eyes flicked to the stone walls around him. The Library? The building?

  He’d seen it too, though. The way the lights seemed to brighten when he came around, the way some doors seemed to lock and unlock themselves. The rooms themselves seemed alive, rearranging themselves at a moment’s notice. Navigating its halls was as much a trial of faith as memorization.

  “So-”

  “So, she might throw a tantrum,” Jean said, her stern expression flickering to allow a crooked grin through. Her eyes never left him, but she reached out, running her fingers down the stonework wall with careless familiarity. “Alexandria does so hate to be ignored.”

  Daniel’s eyes widened - and despite himself, he realized he was smiling. “So, the Library will-”

  “It’s nothing so amusing.” Jean’s reply cracked between them like a whip, wiping the smile from his face. She straightened, going serious again. “Magical storms are dangerous, Daniel. They’re unpredictable, and the unwary can get out of their depth quickly. Remember - as Librarians, our first duty is to our guests.” She held up a finger, waggling it at him. “No harm shall come to guests that walk these halls. Ever.”

  A finality rang out under her words, like they carried weight far beyond their syllables. Daniel inched back, his brow furrowing.

  Jean’s hand dropped back down to her side. Lifting her head, she turned back to the hallway. “Come on, then.”

  He pushed off, following in her wake, but his thoughts raced still.

  One step passed by underfoot.

  Another.

  “Jean?”

  She threw her head back, slowing again. “What is it?”

  “What guests?”

  Again, Jean stopped dead in her tracks. She turned, twisting to look back down the hallway at him.

  Daniel fidgeted in place, twining his fingers together. “I-I mean, it’s just us, right? Do you mean like that man? The dreamer?”

  She pursed her lips, inspecting him from bottom to top, but didn’t say a word.

  He shrank back under the power of that glare. “...Jean?”

  Whatever mental battle she’d been undertaking, she seemed to find her answer. Her hands slackened, going loose at her sides. “Never mind the practice,” she said, looking away at last.

  He hadn’t expected that. “W-What?”

  “You heard me,” she said, a bit of her wry humor returning. “I’ve got other matters to attend to. I’ve just remembered. Empty the stock cart instead.”

  His mouth dropped open. Other matters? That was a lie - and even if he didn’t want to go practice the Library’s magic, he wanted to truck books around the wings even less. “But that’s boring.”

  “Come find me after,” Jean said, turning away and giving a jaunty wave over her shoulder. “I’ll have something else for you to do by then.”

  Within moments, she’d vanished deeper into the Library.

  Daniel groaned, his shoulders slumping.

  Spinning on his heel, he trudged back toward the Library’s grand entrance.

  * * * * *

  One more. Just one more. Daniel stretched his arm out, wishing it was longer. Wishing he was bigger. Jean kept saying he’d grow, but when?

  His fingers slapped down on rough-bound leather of another tome. With a cry of victory, he pulled it from the wooden cart, stacking it onto the heap he already carried.

  Loaded high enough he could barely see over the top, he wobbled deeper into the wings.

  Light filtered in from overhead. He glanced up. More stained glass - this time, with a high, airy ceiling. A smile spread across his lips.

  Unload the cart, Jean said. He pulled the books closer, heaving them a little higher. Alexandria was magic. She’d told him that all along. Why did he have to re-shelve everything, then?

  He already knew the answer, of course - she’d told him that, too. If the books in the Library were the sum of human knowledge, like Jean always said, then more and more books would constantly arrive.

  Stumbling onward another step, he leaned over far enough to peer down the hallway.

  Across the way, one of the massive wooden doorways creaked open.

  Daniel’s heart leapt. It was close, then. He wouldn’t have to carry the books far. The books were always thrown around at random - sometimes, he’d find a room perfectly laid out for him to study Latin, or Greek. Sometimes, it was no more organized than with the dreamer. But each time, something would step in, nudging him toward a shelf with an empty slot or a stack that could go just a little higher. Little things, barely noticed unless you were watching. Which he was.

  Jean had laughed, when he’d told her about it the first time. “Nosy old broad,” she’d said, slapping the desk in front of her. “She just likes to make you tend to her, kid. She wants to be coddled and groomed, just like any other lady. Play nice, and keep her happy.”

  Keep her happy, eh? Daniel twisted, putting his back to the door, and pushed his way into the marble-walled storehouse within. There. A desk sat along the side of the room, somehow empty despite the books stacked on every other inch. He couldn’t hurry over fast enough, letting his burden tumble free.

  The sigh he let out was exhausted, but satisfied. He rubbed his hand down one arm, trying to massage a bit of life back into it.

  Something flashed across his vision - a flicker of light from overhead, shining through the stained glass as though a cloud had passed over the sun. He paused, taken aback, and watched the colors flicker.

  Play nice. Grinning, the boy scampered forward, facing that light for a moment. “You’re welcome!” he called.

  His voice echoed back at him from a dozen directions, bouncing around the lofty room. The twinkle of light flashed once more, then faded.

  The door waited, beckoning him. With a final giggle, he whirled toward it and dashed back into the maze of hallways beyond.

  * * * * *

  When he burst through the final doors, he found Jean waiting for him. He’d expected her usual spot, the overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace. Instead, she leaned against the wall, right alongside another set of doors. Chips of paint peeled off them, falling free to dust
the ground with grey and white.

  She looked...old. Tired. The lines between her eyes had deepened, and he’d never seen her looking quite so downcast.

  But she lifted herself enough to arch an eyebrow as he skidded to a stop. “Well?

  “All done,” he said, beaming up at her. “Said I would.”

  “Good,” she said, her expression softening. “I know you did.”

  She held something, he realized - something smooth and curved, painted with rich browns and blacks. It hung at her side, clutched loosely between her fingers. He’d never seen anything like it before.

  Sidling closer, he craned his neck, trying to get a better look at it. “Jean?”

  “Yes, Daniel?” He didn’t have to be looking at her to know she was rolling her eyes.

  He didn’t care, either. “What’s that?”

  She made a tiny, amused noise, and lifted the object.

  It was a mask, he saw, melded to fit the curves of her face and painted like some sort of...bird. A beak jutted from its porcelain surface, equally smooth and dark.

  “Yes, well,” she said, cradling it closer to her chest. “You did ask, and...you’ll have to learn sooner or later. We don’t have all that long.”

  He blinked. “Until what?”

  “Follow,” she said, reaching out to grab the door handle. Her eyes were still unreadable, but a sardonic smile twisted at the corners of her lips. “It’s time we talked.”

  - Chapter Four -

  The door creaked open. Jean pushed through, moving briskly.

  Daniel followed on her heels, caught between fear and curiosity. He’d never been here before. The Library was massive, and finding a new room was a regular occurrence, but...it was dark inside, and the ceiling was lower, and he couldn’t shake the feeling it was like stepping into another world entirely.

  Jean reached up, though, moving confidently despite the gloom, and twisted a knob. Lanterns flared overhead, filling the room with light.

  A...studio. Daniel slowed, hearing the door close behind them. Windows lined the far wall, ancient and thick-paned. Wooden benches covered with tools and containers sat before them.