The Library (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 1)

by Casey White

  Texts flashed past. Languages came and went. Mathematics poured into his mind, opening new doors. He devoured anything he could get his hands on, flitting from the sciences to literature to martial arts with feverish intensity.

  So buried in his studies was he that he hardly noticed the lights overhead growing harsher, pitching steadily to a cold, uncomfortable white. The hallways grew colder. Doors groaned, rattling in the night with intangible winds.

  He didn’t notice, his face hidden behind another book. He’d need another soon, and so he hurried onward. Straight through the labs would take him to the section he’d been perusing, he knew. In a few minutes he could be back to his desk, and-

  His steps skidded to a stop. His hand clutched the door still - a door that should have opened onto the Library’s science wings.

  Instead, he stood in the entryway. The front door loomed ahead. Light poured through the cracks around its rim, searing with intensity.

  A stack of papers sat on the ground. Slowly, he stepped into the room, crouching to pull them closer. He already knew what he’d find.

  Names. Names, and faces, and biographies. Scholars, the whole lot of them.

  Daniel stood again, his eyes scanning the top page. And then he lifted his gaze to the room around him.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “I took too long, didn’t I?”

  Jean had told him that, too - the Library existed to be read. He nodded fiercely, pretending moisture wasn’t collecting in the corners of his eyes. “Sorry,” he repeated. “I’ll...I’ll...”

  A sigh slipped through the Library as he ducked into a bow, like a pressure had been released. “Right away,” he murmured.

  Spinning on his heel, he darted away.

  * * * * *

  The doors groaned open. The entry hall stood before him, twinkling cheerfully.

  He strode forward, trying to look more confident than he felt. Trying to look like something other than a teenager in a child’s body.

  It’d taken a few nights to sort through the applications. He had newfound respect for Jean, after witnessing firsthand how messy it was to filter through the lies and exaggerations told by the Booklenders.

  But now, he was here.

  He drew a hand from his pocket, and glanced down to the key. Now or never, he whispered to himself.

  Hesitating another moment, he pressed a hand to his face, pushing the mask into place more firmly.

  Before he could have second thoughts, he slid the key into the lock, just like he remembered Jean doing.

  The Library groaned - and then came alive, blossoming with lights that fell from the rafters like fireflies. He breathed in deeply, tasting the atmosphere within lighten.

  He backstepped, taking up a place in the center of the room. It wouldn’t be long. Not when Alexandria was this anxious.

  Forcing himself to stand straight, he clasped his hands in front of him. And waited.

  The wait was even shorter than he’d thought. He’d no sooner come to a stop, the hem of his coat falling still, when the front door creaked gently.

  Slowly, it slid open. Footsteps echoed from behind it, growing closer by the second.

  Owl smiled from behind his mask. He’d do it. He’d do his best.

  Somewhere out there, he knew Jean would be proud.

  He bowed as the first figure stepped out of the light.

  His voice rang out, crisp and clear and without so much as a quiver.

  “Welcome to the Library.”

  THE

  Library

  - Chapter Eleven -

  “Dan!”

  An arm landed around his shoulders. Daniel flinched, looking up from his drink. Reality snapped back to place around him - the bar, filled with lights and bodies. The dark skies outside. And, someone hanging off him like a leech.

  It was Lucas, of course. His friend grinned from ear to ear, his eyes only a little glassy from inebriation. “Don’t scare me like that,” Daniel muttered.

  “Well, stop spacing out, and you won’t get scared,” Lucas said. “Come on. We’re going to stop by the shop real quick, and then-”

  Daniel blinked, sitting up a little straighter and shrugging off Lucas’s arm. “What? You’re leaving already?”

  “In a few minutes, maybe,” Nate said from beyond him, taking another swig from his beer. “It’s getting about that time.”

  “We barely got here,” Daniel said, frowning. “You guys didn’t say you’d have to skip.”

  “Exams,” Lucas said, the smile on his face turning forced. “Starting with diff-eq tomorrow morning.”

  Nate snorted. “You know how it is.”

  If you have an exam, why’d you come out at all? Daniel’s mind screamed. He kept the thought inside, stubbornly burying it. If the pair stayed home studying, then he’d have to spend the night alone. It was hard enough finding excuses to hang out on the daily - losing a realworld visit to something like exams just frustrated him. “Ah,” he said instead, sitting back and clutching his drink. “Gotcha. That sucks, then.”

  Nate’s sour chuckle rippled across the bar under the background din of the other patrons. “It’s okay. Have your laugh.”

  Lucas dropped back into his seat at the table, making a face. “Seriously, though. I need to get home. I’m so unbelievably fucked.”

  “Do you need help?” Daniel said, brightening. “I could stop by. We could take a pizza back, do some cramming. Maybe we could-”

  “Thanks,” Lucas said, holding a hand up and wincing. “I appreciate the offer. But this shit’s pretty complicated, and I really couldn’t take up your night with it.”

  Complicated. Differential equations. Daniel quashed the retort rising to his lips, laughing awkwardly instead. “Y-Yeah. I guess.”

  It made sense, he told himself. They didn’t mean to distrust. He wasn’t even enrolled at their college, after all. They wouldn’t expect someone like him to be able to help, however smart they knew he was. In their eyes, he’d probably just slow them down.

  There, yet again, the wall between them rose a little higher.

  Lucas twisted toward the room, waving to the waitress. “Anyway. It’s going to be a shitshow, so...I should probably at least try and get some sleep.”

  “What?” Nate said dryly. “You mean staying here drinking until after midnight isn’t a good plan?”

  The pair laughed. Daniel joined in, more quietly. The waitress hurried over, depositing their checks, and suddenly everyone was reaching for their money. The night would be over, he realized. Just like that. They’d leave, and he’d go back to his house, and then he’d have to go back to Alexandria.

  “Sure you don’t want me to trade places with you?” he said instead, raising an eyebrow at Lucas as they started shuffling out of the booth. “I’d make it cheap.”

  “Tempting,” Lucas said, smothering a laugh. “Really tempting.” He sighed dramatically, wilting. “But I suppose this cross is mine to bear.”

  “He says that now,” Nate said, shooting Daniel a sidelong grin. “Wait until he gets the test back next week. He’ll be crying then. And we’ll be right back here for another round, I think.”

  “Shut up,” Lucas said, turning for the door. “Come on.”

  Daniel stood alongside the table, and just raised his hand in a wave. “I’m going to chill a while longer,” he said, leaning back against the benches. “Not really tired yet. Good luck, guys.”

  “Oh?” Lucas said, pausing. His blue eyes widened faintly. “Okay, then. Later, Dan.”

  Nate just bobbed his head in a nod, already lost in thought as he and Lucas filed out.

  And then, just like that, Daniel was alone.

  He glanced around the bar, making a face before settling in at the counter. In that moment, part of him regretted the choice he’d made to skip college. He didn’t need it, he’d decided. It was a waste of money, but he had plenty of that to go around. More than the money, it was a waste of time.

  That, he had precious l
ittle of.

  With his only friends gone, his best-laid plans had just been thrown into chaos. Still nursing along his last drink, he sighed. Logically, he knew he should go home, get some rest, and make the most of his next visit. If he forced himself to stay up, his body would be a mess the next time he got to leave Alexandria.

  But it’d been ages since he’d let in a batch of guests. He’d have to open the doors soon - and that meant his next shift would be long indeed. It’d probably be a year before he could wander freely as Dan again.

  And so he fought against the Library’s tug. Caffeine pills were easy to come by. He’d tossed back a handful a few hours ago. Eventually, Alexandria would force him back in, he knew, but until then, he’d make the most of what he had.

  Idly, he scanned the bar. Sitting at the counter and drinking alone was not his idea of a good night. There had to be something he could do. Some way to have a bit of fun, even with the clock steadily ticking toward midnight.

  A group of girls burst into laughter, farther down the bar. Daniel glanced sidelong at them, a passing irritation washing over him, and then paused.

  They were all clustered around one girl in the center, who was telling whatever story had prompted the outburst. Her arms waved with every passage, illustrating her point.

  But one of their friends sat farther down, not quite so drawn in. She smiled from behind a brunette barrier, laughing along politely with each of the jokes cracked. Her eyes, however, kept flicking back to her phone, and she kept a bit of distance from the rest.

  Not quite into things, huh? Daniel eyed her a long moment, taking another sip. She was pretty, in a quiet sort of way, and the smile she gave her friends seemed genuine and pleasant. He chuckled softly to himself. If she was bored, then he’d have to see what he could do to fix that.

  He stood, straightening his jacket and taking his glass in hand.

  The night might not be over just yet.

  * * * * *

  The key thudded into the lock. Owl turned it without a second thought, pulling it free and stashing it back in his pocket. The Library hummed in response, coming alive around him.

  “See?” he said, lifting his eyes. “Told you I’d do it soon. Just be patient next time, okay?”

  Somewhere outside the entryway’s windows, a bird chirped happily. Owl chuckled. Oh, now Alexandria was acting all cheerful and blithe. Not like she’d been slamming doors in his face for the whole last visit, unbalancing stacks of books to fall over on him as he passed.

  He sighed, leaning back against the wall. His overcoat billowed around his legs, glass vials clinking from within its hundred pockets. “Sorry. You were patient. I’ll be faster next time.”

  The candles overhead wobbled, the flames burning a little brighter. She’d accept his apology, then. At least this time.

  His head rolled back to press into the stone. A year. He already knew it - two of the visitors were chemists, and their bios had been quite explicit. They wanted the proper time to let their projects age, to get the maximum validation of their theory before they departed. He wouldn’t be returning to Vanessa anytime soon.

  A smile toyed at the corner of his lips. He’d have to write her name down in his journal, before he forgot it. He’d spent plenty of time waking up next to strange women. Sometimes strange men. If it was a short stint, well, he could usually cobble together their name before they got offended and threw him out. When it was a full stay, things got tough.

  But Vanessa had been nice. Maybe it could be a recurring thing. He snorted. As if that’d worked out before.

  The light behind the door flared, bringing his wistful dreams of smooth skin and brown hair to an end. Their guests were here. He stood, pulling himself upright and off the wall.

  With a creak, the front door eased open. Owl stepped forward, taking up his place in the center of the room. With how often he’d done this, let alone the countless Librarians before him, he was a bit surprised they hadn’t worn a track in the stone floor.

  He bowed as the first shape stepped through the door. “Welcome to the Library,” he said. Lifting his head, he straightened, coming back to vertical.

  Three figures stood before him, all wide-eyed and gaping. He chuckled from behind his mask. Every time, it was the same. “My name is Owl,” he said, stuffing his gloved hands into a pair of massive pockets on his coat. “I’m the Librarian. While you’re within these walls, I am at your service.”

  And I’m in charge. The words went unspoken, just a hint of steel layered onto his title. Inwardly, though, he knew it wouldn’t be an issue. Probably. The days when scholars would trample over the top of him were just a distant memory, quashed behind endless years of wandering the shelves. He wasn’t a little boy anymore - and now, they listened.

  The trio hadn’t moved - but Owl watched their eyes drift around the room, taking it all in. He smothered a groan, biting it off. This too, he knew. Most of the scholars received little more than a warning, if even that. They’d be enthralled for days, likely.

  Days he’d have to waste on hand-holding. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” he said, keeping his voice even. “I encourage you to ask them, rather than holding onto anything. It will be my pleasure to help you in your studies.”

  Two of the guests clung to each other - a man and a woman, both dressed practically. They’d have looked completely nondescript, if not for the tiny burn marks at the hem of the man’s sleeves.

  Those were his chemists, then. And as he watched, the woman’s eyes started to un-glaze. A gleam entered them the next moment.

  Owl just knew it - at any second, she’d leap back to normal, piling question after question on top of him. He took a step toward the wall of the Library instead, reaching for the first of the cards racked there. “But for now,” he said, “let’s get you settled. And then I can show you where you can begin your work.”

  He turned, card in hand, and sighed at the sight of them staring back, like he was an animal in a zoo.

  It was going to be a long year.

  * * * * *

  Amidst the towering racks and shelves of the study, his desk seemed almost...obscene. Out of place, if nothing else. A set of monitors glowed from the tabletop, casting a pale glow over the chaotic mess of his notes.

  Owl leaned back in his chair, making a face at the numbers displayed on the screen.

  His model was wrong. Not significantly wrong, but wrong enough for a miscalculation. He’d lose a bit of money if the share didn’t recover, at this rate.

  Taking his eyes off the display, he glanced into the rest of the study. He’d positioned his office strategically, right at the cusp of a second-floor balcony. Artistic wrought-iron bars around the perimeter allowed him to watch their guests in peace, while also keeping them out of his projects.

  Like the damn models, which were wrong. His mood soured instantly. Twenty years of work, with intimate knowledge of every single damn company on the face of the planet to draw from, and he’d still managed to make a mistake.

  Leaning forward again, Owl reached for the keyboard, filling his corner of the Library with clickety-clacks. He’d fix it. He’d safeguard his own future, and hopefully give any Librarians who followed him a head start. And then-

  His fingers slowed on the keys. And then what? He had an eternity ahead of him. Sooner or later, even if it took him another twenty years, he would fix this.

  What then?

  He’d sifted through some of the journals in his room, some of the books from Librarians past. A Fox, and a Bear, and a Jay. Each of them had talked about a personal drive, a project they pursued through the years. Something that went beyond their role as Librarian, to leave their mark on the world.

  Owl hadn’t found anything like that. And every time he thought on the matter...

  His gaze drifted, settling on a single, heavy notebook resting in the very farthest corner. His best attempts, which hadn’t exactly gotten him very far.

  Every time he thought abo
ut it, he could only return to his own frustrations. In here. Out there. It was like he was caught between two worlds, kept hurrying up and waiting in turns for this or that. If he could reach between Alexandria and the outside, it wouldn’t sting so much. And if he was able to access the Library’s information in reality...everything would change.

  But that was reality, and Alexandria was magic. If he was going to do anything like that, he’d need to learn more. A lot more. He chewed on his lip, otherwise motionless. It’d mean delving into forbidden shelves, places the Library didn’t even like to show him. But if he was careful, maybe he could-

  “M-Mister Owl? Sir?” A quavering voice broke the silence.

  Owl blinked, sitting upright in his chair. The chemist man stood in the doorway, his fingers wrapped around the intricately-worked bars around the edge. Lenny, his name was.

  “That’s me,” Owl said, rising and snapping his fingers. The screens went dark, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t think the chemist would be able to understand any of it, much less at a glance, but there was no sense taking risks.

  Lenny squirmed under his look, paling to ghostlike instantly.

  Owl laughed, shaking his head at the other man’s terror. “It’s the mask, isn’t it?” he said gently. “It’s all right. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “S-Sorry,” Lenny whispered. “I don’t mean to bother you. You’re busy. I should- I’ll just-”

  Owl stepped away from his desk, ushering the man from the doorway and twiddling his fingers. The gate slid closed behind him, the latch closing and locking with a reassuring click. Another knot loosened in his chest.

  The questions still swirled in his mind, the what-ifs and the should-Is. If he was being honest with himself, he knew that these questions had been there for years, simmering just under the surface. But every time they cropped up, a pair of green eyes swam in his vision. Whispered warnings filled his ears. Be careful, they said. Stay away. And every time, he let it go, returning to this or that busywork.