The Library (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 1)

by Casey White

  No one was supposed to be leaving, he knew. In the weeks since Bill Parker had departed, the Library had settled back into a quiet, fevered sort of frenzy, with everyone racing to finish their own projects before they too were turned out and the Library’s doors closed for the season. If any of their clocks were running low, he’d have heard about it.

  But if no one was leaving the Library, then what?

  There, in the quiet of the moment as the ringing started to fade, he knew - and his grip on the bookshelves tightened painfully.

  If no one was leaving, then there was only one possible option left.

  Someone else was at the door, trying to come in.

  - Chapter Seven -

  Bells. The bells were ringing, and that could only mean one thing. Owl stood, rooted in place with his eyes raised.

  What should he do? His fingertips quivered, the muscles in his legs tensing up as he hovered on the verge of bolting. If someone was here...he could go back to the study. Contain the other guests. He already knew that going and hiding in his room until they left wasn’t an option. The others would have heard the bells too. They might be worried, or have questions. The last thing Jean and him needed was for the scholars to start wandering the halls getting into trouble. Not now.

  But...if there was someone here, they had...bigger issues. No more guests would arrive after the first few hours, Jean had told him. They’d filter in, and there they’d stay until their visit was over. The fact their stay had a hard-and-fast deadline seemed to be the one luxury the Librarians got, now that he thought about it.

  And if no one else would be coming to prolong the Librarians’ duties, then...

  Then he had no idea who it could be.

  He hardly realized he’d already taken the first step, didn’t piece together he was moving until the shelves started flying past. Owl ran, pressing at his mask to make sure it hadn’t worked loose.

  Jean would want him. She might need backup.

  If nothing else...he wanted to be there. He wanted to see. This wasn’t anything they’d planned on, and he couldn’t deny the thrill of excitement that shot through him at the sudden disturbance.

  Out of the wing, down the main hall. His boots thudded against the ground that changed between stone and wood and tile and back to stone as he raced through the Library’s sprawl.

  He gritted his teeth. He didn’t have time to be trekking across the building one passage at a time. Tearing his eyes off the hallway, he glanced up to the rafters overhead.

  Please. I...I need to get back there. There was no reason to think his thoughts would reach anyone - or anything - and yet, it just felt right, somehow. It was like something burned in his chest, warming at the sudden connection. The front door. She’s got to be there already. Can you-

  The door in front of him slammed shut. Owl’s eyes widened. He braced, stumbling and trying to slow down, but-

  He hit the wood hard, driving a cry from him. Wincing and gasping to reclaim his lost air, he squinted through watering eyes.

  Half-turned from his impact, he saw it - another door in front of him slid open, creaking softly.

  “T-Thank you,” he spluttered, licking his lips and throwing himself toward it.

  Wooden walls flew past him, shaped like a medieval gatehouse. They transformed into masonry bricks embedded with book-laden shelves, twisting and turning until at last they opened wide.

  There. Owl accelerated, already seeing the familiar doors ahead. The entryway.

  But as he came to a stop before them, he realized he’d been beaten. One door lay open a crack, shifting back and forth in a breeze he couldn’t quite feel.

  A voice drifted from within, cool and curt. “As I said. I apologize. Truly.”

  Jean- Crow. Crow was inside. He grabbed the handle, willing himself to stop panting, and eased it open a hair.

  A man looked up from across the room, his eyes narrowing - and then widening. He stared at Owl from beneath a shock of honey-blond hair, dumbfounded.

  Alongside him, a dark-skinned woman jumped, making a tiny, startled noise. “A-Ah. Ah, there’s a-”

  “Owl.”

  He glanced over, his pulse racing.

  Crow stood on the far side of the room, arms folded across her chest. He couldn’t see her expression beneath the mask, but he knew she’d be exasperated with him. He’d just barged in after all. He should’ve stayed away.

  He backpedaled, clutching the edge of the door like a shield. “I...uh. I didn’t- I’ll just-”

  “So it is true,” the man said, his voice low. “Well?”

  Jean’s hands balled up at her sides. “Come in, then,” she said, lifting her face toward Owl. “We were just talking. Ah...this is Adrian, and his assistant Indira. Friends, this is my apprentice. Owl.”

  When she held her hand out to the side, gesturing, he shuffled into the room. He couldn’t leave. Not after that - not when they were all watching him. He felt their eyes hovering on his mask as he hurried to Crow’s side.

  Her hand settled onto his shoulder, as confident and reassuring as ever, and a bit of the worry left him.

  “As I’ve told you already,” Crow said, turning back to the others. “It wasn’t my intention to jeopardize the agreement between us. I apologize most sincerely that I had to delay your members’ visits.”

  Indira smiled tentatively, her brown eyes glittering with relief, but Adrian’s scowl only deepened. “”You say that now,” he said. “But that’s an apology after the fact. It’s not good enough, Librarian.”

  Crow tilted her head to one side. “It will have to be. Your guests are now all present and working on their projects. Everything is going smoothly. I fail to see how-”

  “Projects were delayed because of you,” Adrian said. A muscle pulsed in his jaw, quick and tight. “They lost face. Opportunities were ruined. All because you decided you needed to close the doors and hide yourself away from the world. I know things seem different in your ivory tower, but out in the real world-”

  “Adrian!” Indira hissed, grabbing for his elbow. Her face had gone pale somewhere in the midst of the man’s sentence.

  Owl made a noise, small and confused. It was too much to follow, too much for him to keep up with. Just as quickly, he bit the sound off.

  The conversation stopped. Again, all heads swiveled to face him. He shrank back, his training shrieking to stand tall as a Librarian while the rest of him wanted to run and hide among the books.

  “Speak up, then,” Crow said, more gently. “Ask, Owl.”

  He shook his head furiously. “I-I don’t...it’s nothing.” She didn’t move, didn’t twitch. He made a face, ducking his chin low. “I’m just...I don’t quite-”

  “I’ll explain, kid,” Adrian said, taking a step closer. He had an accent, a heaviness to his words Owl had never heard before. Even Indira’s single spoken word had had an odd intonation that entranced him.

  Adrian advanced another pace, though, leaving Owl no time to dwell on their peculiarities. “I’m the guildmaster, see,” he said, rapping his knuckles over his chest. “Of the Booklender’s Guild. This place of yours?”

  A grin spread across his face. Owl fought the urge to run. It was a grin, but...it wasn’t friendly at all. It seemed more like Adrian was a wolf, ready to lunge at the slightest opportunity. “It’s something real special,” Adrian continued. “And there are a ton of our people waiting for a chance to come inside and learn.” His eyes flashed to Crow, darkening. “A chance your mistress promised - and then stole right out from under them.”

  “I told you,” Crow said, unflinching. “I had things to attend to. It’s allowed for.”

  “With warning.”

  “I apologize for the inconvenience,” she said, inclining her torso forward in what could almost be called a bow. “I acted out of necessity, nothing more and nothing less.”

  “Necessity?” Adrian scoffed. Behind him, still clinging to his elbow, Indira flinched.

  But Crow only
nodded once. “Yes. As I’ve said.”

  “You had ‘things to attend to’,” Adrian said, drawing himself up straighter. “Like him?”

  The three of them looked to Owl. He froze, unable to move under the weight of the frustration and fury in Adrian’s eyes.

  Again, Crow nodded. “Yes.”

  “And you didn’t think about consulting with us?” Adrian spat between his clenched teeth.

  Jean’s hands came together in front of her, clasping around each other. “I am the Librarian,” she said. “I choose my own successor, Adrian.”

  “But a child?” he burst out, taking another step forward. Owl bit his lip, his eyes darting between him and Crow. In another few moments, Adrian would be close enough to reach out and touch - and Owl wanted no part of being that close to the man.

  Crow held her ground, unmoving. “I did what I felt was warranted.”

  “Warr-” Adrian began, biting off the word before he could finish it. “Crow, let me repeat. This is a child. You expect me to believe any part of this is warranted? Christ.” The man’s eyes darted back to Owl, ice-blue and furious. “What the fuck have you done? Where’d you even find him? A kid like this has no place here and you know it. If you needed candidates, the guild could have-”

  “The guild does not choose the Librarian, Guildmaster.” Crow’s voice turned icy, her demeanor twisting infinitesimally to something more formal. “I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, Owl will be more than capable of filling the position.”

  “But he’s-”

  “Thank you for your input.” Her final words lashed out like a whip.

  Adrian stopped, tight-lipped and red-faced. The muscle in his jaw still twitched, tensing and releasing. “So that’s it,” he said. “That’s the best you’re going to offer. A token apology.”

  “I don’t know what else you’re expecting from me.” For the first time, Owl could hear the weariness in Crow’s voice, underlying each word.

  “Some acknowledgment would be a good fucking start,” Adrian shot back. He stepped forward again, leaving Indira to fret where she stood. “You sit here in the Library like a damn empress, lording your power over the rest of us. Deigning to allow us in.”

  “This place has always belonged to the Librarian,” Crow said quietly. “Both to share and to protect. The arrangement between Alexandria and the guild is one we value. But-”

  “But you still hold all the power, is that it? You can just tell us no whenever you damn well please, and expect us to sit there nodding and smiling?”

  This time, Crow said nothing. She just stared across the brightly-lit entry chamber at the two scholars, wordless.

  That more than anything seemed to get under Adrian’s skin. The splotches of color rising in his cheeks flushed hotter. “Once again,” he muttered. “Once again, you’re ignoring the chance here. What could be. You’re choosing to bury your head in the sand, when you could pull that stick out of your ass and actually work with us. Damn it, Crow, stop shutting us out.”

  “The doors are open,” she said. “Your people are inside as we speak. I don’t understand what you-”

  “Turn a new page,” Adrian said, his eyes burning with intensity. “Let’s use this. We’ll look past you locking us out. You have fresh blood coming in. Let’s change more than that. Revisit the deal. Make things better for the ones who follow. If you let us actually use this shared resource, we could change the world. We could-”

  “I’ve already upheld my end of the bargain,” Crow said, her voice perfectly even. “I see no reason to re-negotiate anything.”

  Adrian’s eyes tightened. “And what am I supposed to take back to the people you locked outside? What guarantee do I have that you won’t pull the same stunt as soon as I leave?” He laughed hollowly. “What possible reason do I have to believe you, Librarian?”

  “Frankly, Adrian,” she said, her words soft and heavy. “You don’t have a choice.”

  Over Adrian’s shoulder, Owl saw Indira’s expression twist, warped with frustration - and fear. His heart hammered in his chest. This was wrong. Something was wrong. The woman looked...terrified. She quivered, stumbling forward with an outstretched hand.

  But Adrian was moving by then, stalking toward the two Librarians with fury etched into every line of his face. “I’m tired of this,” Owl heard him mutter. “And I’m tired of you.”

  A weight slammed into Owl’s shoulder, sending him stumbling away. Crow. She’d shoved him, pushed him to the side. “Adrian. I-”

  “But I do have a choice,” Adrian snarled, wrapping his fingers around the empty air and hurling himself at Crow.

  With a roar, the musty, dead air of the Library burst to life, crackling into seething gusts of wind.

  Owl teetered on the balls of his feet, swallowing a cry as it lashed around him like a storm. It pulled at his clothes, tugging him off-balance and threatening to send him flying.

  He forced his shaking legs into motion, taking one step and then another. With every foot he put between himself and Crow, the pressure lessened little by little.

  With one final gasp, he hurled himself into the corner, throwing his hands up.

  The air between him and the maelstrom crackled, lighting with a pale sheen as his shield sprang to life. The gale fell away from him. He lay back, panting and pushing himself closer to the wall.

  Crow stood riveted in place, although he saw her fingers tense. Surprise? Shock? It wasn’t fear. There was no way Crow would be afraid.

  And then her arms burst into motion, shooting palms-first toward the windstorm. Her fingers tightened fully, then, latching about the gales.

  Dust cascaded across the entryway. It whipped and whirled into a misty fog , tracing out the lines of wind. Before Owl’s eyes, it coalesced, forming into a cylinder of air that rippled and danced in the center of the room.

  A flash of movement from the corner of his eye. Owl jumped, shying back. His head slammed into the stonework walls.

  But as the tornado dissipated with a final groan, Adrian pulled his hand free of the bag Indira wore. She leapt for him, her eyes wide with terror, but he pushed her back.

  The water bottle he clutched bulged - and exploded into icy fragments that flew across the room.

  Icicles. He’d frozen the water, and then he’d-

  Owl heard Crow grunt as she spun, her right arm whipping forward across her chest. She swung hard, lashing her hand out like she’d slammed an invisible door.

  Icicle after icicle shot from Adrian’s hands. Icicle after icicle crashed into an transparent wall, disintegrating into snowflakes that spun and drifted merrily.

  Owl had never seen snow before, not in person. There were more important things to worry about. Adrian was using magic. The Library’s magic. He didn’t know they could do that - and now that he did know, he should be leaving the corner. He should be helping.

  But for a frozen moment in time, he could only gape, watching the fragments of white float gently toward the floor.

  Adrian roared, pressing forward again, and the moment vanished. Owl dug his fingers into the wall, staggering to his feet. He took a step toward Adrian, and-

  “Don’t!” Crow cried, and for a moment, her face turned toward him. Owl stopped dead in his tracks.

  “Adrian - No!” Indira wept in the same moment, lunging for her companion. “You can’t! You can’t fight the-”

  Again, he shoved her aside - and his eyes flicked to Owl. But the man only hissed, tossing the emptied water bottle aside and jabbing his finger at Crow.

  The rugs around her feet churned, writhing like living beings. They grabbed at her feet, her legs, climbing higher and-

  She made an irritated noise. Owl should never have heard it over the cacophony and the pounding of his heart, but somehow, he did. One finger extended, she twirled it around and around.

  The intricately-worked carpets dissolved into a mess of threads that flew across the entryway. Wriggling frantically, they wrapped around A
drian’s legs, spreading higher and higher.

  Adrian’s face contorted further, twisting into something that barely looked human. He bellowed, bringing his chin up sharply.

  The lanterns overhead exploded one after another. Owl threw his arms up over his head, cringing back. Fragments of glass rained down across the room, spotted with droplets of burning-hot wax. Indira shrieked, stumbling and falling. Blood ran down her face - from where, Owl couldn’t see.

  Had to help. It was his job. But Owl’s legs shook, and he couldn’t force himself to take even a single step forward.

  Heat. The world went white, and his eyes squeezed shut in a meager defense against the overwhelming glow. The mask warmed against his face. The smell of burning hair filled his nostrils.

  It faded a moment later - at least a little - and he cracked his eyes back open.

  Adrian’s hands were filled with fire, coursing down from the candles overhead and burning the fabric threads to ash. The man’s hair was a mess, flapping about his face in dusty, red-spotted strands. But his eyes were fixed on Crow, narrowed and furious.

  With one, final cry, the fire clenched in his hands started to spray toward Crow.

  Owl’s mouth fell open, his heart stopping. No. Not Crow. He needed to-

  Crow stretched out a hand, almost gently. Her fingers parted, like she was reaching toward a friend, not a deadly assault.

  The fire brushed against her fingertips - and she twisted her hand, turning it inward.

  Still gaping, Owl watched as the fire seethed and melded itself around her.

  The surge from Adrian’s hands seemed endless. It felt like an eternity it poured from his grasp, pulsating with heat as it blasted toward Crow. Each time, she pulled it from the air as though it was little more than thread for her to spool. Her hands twisted, spiraling about each other in a complicated motion that left the fire coiling in on itself until it started to die out.

  There, with the light still at the very edge of overwhelming and the heat wrapping itself around him like a blanket, Owl saw Adrian’s expression crack. The rage there fractured, showing the uncertainty beneath.