by Casey White
The hallway shifted in front of them, changing from elegant stone to practical concrete-and-steel in the moment of time it took to pass underneath a door frame. Owl’s eyes lifted, fixing on a solitary figure ahead.
Emma stood outside a windowed door, her back pressed to the wall and her eyes round. Her hands were clasped together, and even from afar Owl could see them shake.
But she wasn’t bleeding - and she wasn’t burned. The worry in him eased, just a little.
He and Lenny skidded to a stop alongside her, the other chemist grabbing at her without hesitation. “Emma,” Lenny gasped, panting for breath. “Are you okay? What- What did you do?”
Her eyes flicked to his, and for an instant, the irritation bubbling in their depths overwhelmed even her terror. But then she glanced back to the other side of the hallway, and the fear came back stronger than ever. “I...I....oh, god.”
“Talk to us,” Owl said, his voice low and soothing. He turned, taking in their surroundings. Farther up the hall, glass lined the floor, spattered with droplets of something brown. Something brown that sizzled. “What happened?”
“I...I was...Jesus Christ,” Emma muttered, dropping her face into the palm of her hand. Her shoulders rose and fell with a steady rhythm.
And when she let her hand slide down to her mouth, leaving her eyes exposed, she didn’t seem quite so panicked anymore.
“You’re going to think I’m- I’m crazy,” she said, the words muffled.
“Emma, it’s okay,” Lenny said, offering her a smile. “We’re good. We’re all here. So just-”
“I think I saw a- a ghost,” Emma mumbled. Color dotted her cheeks, but she lifted her chin, peering uneasily across the distance. “In there.”
Owl turned, following her gesture. A set of double doors stood open - adjacent to the pile of ruined glass. Rack after metal rack of neatly-organized binders waited within. “In the wings?” he said, stepping toward it gingerly. “A ghost?” A dreamer. She’d seen a dreamer, and scared the daylights out of herself. He’d warned them when they arrived. He always did. But it didn’t really take with most people, until they saw one.
“A-A woman,” Emma said, her hands clenching around each other. “She was just- She was watching me, Lenny. From back in there.” Tearing one hand free, she jabbed a finger toward the book room.
“What do you mean?” Lenny said. “Emma, there’s no-”
“It’s okay,” Owl said, picking his way back to them. He held up his hands reassuringly, palms-outward. “You saw a dreamer, Emma. A...A spirit of sorts.” Somehow, telling her she really had seen a ghost didn’t seem like a good idea.
“A s-spirit?” Lenny squeaked, and inched closer to his partner.
Owl smothered a chuckle. “They come and go, looking for answers. That’s all, Emma. They can be startling, but you can see them coming by the glow. So don’t-”
“Glow?” Emma snapped, her brows drawing together. “N-No. There was no glow. I’d have- I’d be out of this nightmare den by now if some damned glowing woman was creeping around watching me. Hell no.”
Owl rocked back on his heels, his mind going blank. Not glowing?
Not a dreamer, then. And if it wasn’t a dreamer, then-
We’re going to talk about this, he hissed silently, turning his eyes to the walls around them. Damn it, this isn’t okay. You have to stop.
“You’re in no danger,” he said out loud, taking both Lenny and Emma by the shoulders. “I assure you of that much. So long as you’re here, you’re safe.”
They nodded, but didn’t say anything more. Owl exhaled slowly, then turned them back toward the Library’s heart. “Still, I think you’ve both earned a break. I’ll stay here, get things cleaned up. Go...relax.”
And forget about...whoever you saw, he willed, focusing on that with every fiber of his being. Maybe he could convince her. Maybe Alexandria could help.
It wouldn’t work. His magic was neither that simple nor that convenient.
When the pair took one final, shuffling step and rounded the corner, Owl sighed - and stalked toward the offending Library wing. One way or another, dreamer or intruder, he’d find them. He’d get them out of his damn Library. And then he’d go on with his life in peace.
But as the hours slipped by, leaving him winding through deserted halls and deathly-silent shelves, he was forced to admit the truth.
Whoever had been watching Emma, they were long gone.
* * * * *
The lanterns overhead rocked gently, twinkling with motes of light.
Owl clasped his hands before him, the Library cards clutched tight between his fingers. The stamps against their surface glowed brilliantly with red, counting out the months they’d spent.
Months that were now gone.
“Thank you for visiting,” he said, the words familiar and well-practiced. He bowed, holding the pose for an instant and then rising. “I hope your stay was fruitful.”
His guests stood silhouetted in front of the doorway, limned in gold. All of them were smiling, with a journal clutched in each of their arms. Lenny kept leaning forward, as though hoping to get a glimpse through the now-sealed wooden doors leading back inside Alexandria.
“I’m sorry we were so much trouble,” Emma said, her voice hoarse. “Thank you so much. We never could’ve- There’d be no way for us to-” She swallowed hard, smiling again. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Sorry about the lab,” Lenny whispered. “Uh...do you think-”
“The lab will be fine,” Owl said, wincing. “I’ll...I’ll fix it.”
He would. Somehow. Or maybe Alexandria would be nice and just give him a new damn room. The way things were, the whole place would reek for months of smoke and...whatever it was Lenny had been mixing.
Lenny only grinned, though, his expression too sheepish for Owl to hold any sort of grudge against the man. “Oops.”
“Oops indeed,” Owl echoed, then chuckled. “It’ll be fine, Lenny. Safe travels.”
The guests straightened, recognizing the cue. Once more, they shared a look - then turned, slipping toward the door.
Owl’s skin prickled as the light rose, enveloping the lot of them. His hands itched to raise, unbuckling the mask and pulling it free. He’d be able to breathe again, his thoughts cried. He’d be able to see everything, no longer limited by lenses and eye-holes.
Not this time. Not yet. Owl leaned back, sucking in a lungful of air and holding it. Finally, when he seemed about to burst, he let it out long and slow.
Now the guests were gone. Now, he was alone with Alexandria again.
Supposedly. He’d always trusted that fact, relied on it more than any other. And now, that fact had been called into question.
Until he knew the truth, there was no way for him to do something like ‘relax’, much less unmask himself.
He whirled around instead, stalking back toward the entryway to the Library.
Now the guests were gone.
And now, he’d get some answers.
- Chapter Fifteen -
Tapestries flitted through the edge of his vision, blowing gently at his passage. Skylights overhead glimmered down in sheets of hazy golden light.
Owl stalked onward, hardly seeing any of the beauty being foisted upon him. He padded from aisle to aisle, peering down side hallways and nooks.
“Come on,” he muttered, his frustration building as the minutes changed into hours. “You’ve got to be somewhere around-”
A stack of scrolls tipped over in front of him, clattering to the tiled floor. He shied back, narrowly avoiding trampling one.
For a long moment, the only sound in the Library was a steady rustling of paper on paper as they tumbled.
Finally, they came to a stop. Owl lifted his eyes, glaring from behind his mask. “Really?” he said. “Do you have to do that?”
The building groaned in response, its massive, exposed rafters shifting gently.
Owl let out a hiss, nudging the piles of scrolls aside with
his foot. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbled, and eased past.
On and on he walked, picking his way through previously untrod hallways. He ignored the thrill of fear in his gut, the ripple of unease as the rooms grew tighter, more narrow. This was the Library, and he was the Librarian. There was nothing to fear here - as he’d told group after group of visitors.
A chuckle ripped from his throat as he grabbed the next door handle, wrenching it open, and stepped through into a hall so narrowly bounded by bookshelves as to be claustrophobic. The only things out here to find would be a dreamer - or Leon. He’d see the dreamer before it saw him. And if he ran into Leon, well-
The world went dark around him.
Owl froze, grabbing for the shelf alongside him for support. His breath caught in his throat. He blinked wildly, grabbing at his mask with his other hand. Where? What was it? Why had he-
A smell wafted through the air, soft and sweet and pungent. Candlesmoke. Owl stopped, his fingers still pressed against the lenses of his mask.
“Are you serious?” he said - and snapped his fingers. Light flared before him with painful brightness. He winced, holding his hand away, and shaped the fire-orb in his palm to something more manageable.
Bookshelves stood around him, tight-packed and narrow. He exhaled slowly, relieved. He wasn’t blind, then. This wasn’t an attack.
Owl wrinkled his nose, glancing up - and eyed the candles hanging from the rafters. Smoke poured from their extinguished wicks.
“Are you going to explain why you’re doing this?” he said, spitting the words through clenched teeth as he returned to walking. “It’s bad enough there’s trespassers here. I don’t need you trying to get me killed along with the rest of it. Jesus Christ.”
A window rattled in its frame, somewhere high overhead. Owl scowled. “Fine. Whatever. Don’t tell me.”
Deep down, he knew he was being absurd. Alexandria was a building. A smart building, yes, but one without a mouth.
Not for the first time, he wished there was some way for him to talk to her more directly. He’d read stories like this before - space travelers on sentient ships, or supernatural beings that inhabited locations. But in those series, they’d always been given an avatar, or at least an interface to talk through.
If only real life could be so convenient. Owl sighed, stalking forward, and ground his teeth together.
“Anyone here?” he called, raising his voice. “Just come on out. I’m not angry. Really.” The words didn’t sound believable even to him. “Look, we can talk. Okay?”
The only response was a shrill whistling of wind through the Library’s cracks. Owl frowned, shaking his head and hurrying toward the next door frame. “Fine. I swear to god, Alex, I’ll-”
The only thing waiting on the far side of the door was open air. Owl’s arms pinwheeled desperately as he struggled, fighting to regain his balance. It was too late. Poised halfway over the gap, there was no time left to go back.
He yelped, feeling gravity take over - and tumbled from the ledge.
A terrifying half-second and a four foot fall later, Owl pushed himself to his knees. Concrete lay cool and unforgiving under his fingers. He breathed hard, staring down at it and trying to calm the thrumming of his heart. His hands ached, with his shins not far behind. If he hadn’t been dressed head to toe in leather, he’d probably have left bloody smears behind.
“This isn’t funny,” he spat, clenching his fists. His fingertips scraped the concrete. “If you...” Thinking the better of it, he stopped, clamping down hard. “Fine. Have it your way. I’m done.”
He pushed off hard, swaying as he stood, and grabbed for the edge over him. Every movement hurt. He’d been thrown around before, but somehow...somehow, it being the Library instigating matters made the ache all the worse.
“I don’t deserve this,” he mumbled, hurt soaking through every word.
The rattling of the windows continued, though, following him as he stalked back toward his quarters.
* * * * *
Daniel fell to the plush mattress with a groan, sucking down a breath of cool, fresh air. Every touch of the air against his skin was bliss, his reward for a shift well-worked.
Time inside Alexandria worked...differently. And, as he had to struggle to explain to each set of visitors, reality was little more than an illusion there. They were little more than dreams when it came right down to it, and dreams didn’t need little things like ‘sleeping’ or ‘eating’.
But his guests were human, and humans had habits built around their needs, actual or perceived. He’d long since given up on telling them they didn’t need to retire to their chambers every night - and indeed, he’d come to enjoy the hours of his own internment he could while away in blissful unconsciousness.
This was different, though. He grinned, glancing back toward the rack alongside his bed. His coat and mask waited right in their places, ready for the grabbing should he need them in a hurry.
He wouldn’t. The Library was closed, after all, and even if strangers were finding their way in, he doubted Alexandria would let them into his bedroom.
Probably not.
Surely not.
Daniel tore his eyes off his uniform, rolling to the side and stretching out to his full length. The world beyond his windows was dark and perfectly quiet. He smiled, burying his face in the pillow.
Sleeping while guests were in Alexandria was a luxury.
Sleeping when they’d left meant he got to go outside. He’d get to be free again, if only for a day.
His eyelids drooped, betraying the exhaustion building within him. More than ever, he needed a break. Just a day, and he’d be ready to come back and face...whatever was going on within the Library.
The warmth of the blankets lulled him under, his chest rising and falling steadily.
Just for a little bit.
* * * * *
A gentle breeze wafted through his hair, tickling at the individual strands. Daniel shivered, nestling deeper into his blankets. Something chimed in his thoughts at the touch, at the first inklings of awareness. It screamed to life, calling him awake. Morning. It was morning, which meant it was time. Smiling, with a yawn building in his chest, Daniel rolled over. His eyes slipped open, and-
The knotted-wood boards of his room’s ceiling stared down at him. His room in Alexandria.
Shock rippled through him, jolting him back to wakefulness. He sat bolt upright, blankets flying free.
A grand fireplace waited at the foot of his bed. Windows lined one wall, exposing an elegant garden beyond. Carved bookshelves lined the walls, stacked high with the journals of his predecessors.
He stared at them, mouth hanging open. Black hair hung around his face in a tangled, matted halo. He couldn’t bring himself to so much as brush it aside.
Alexandria. He was still in Alexandria.
“What the hell?” he breathed, kicking his legs free of the sheets and pushing himself toward the edge of the bed. His arms quivered with the motion. “Why the hell am I-”
He toppled over the edge with a cry, catching himself before he could hit the ground. Clambering back upright, he stood - and stared at the rack alongside his bed.
The mask and jacket he’d hung there what felt like moments before stared back silently.
Daniel sat down heavily, his mind racing. Why? The guests were gone. That was how things worked. He arrived in the Library. He opened the doors, and took in guests, if it was scheduled. He helped them through their visit, however many months that took, and then saw them out. When his work was done, he got to leave.
So why was he still here?
“Alexandria?” he said, his voice numb. “What’s going on?”
The fireplace crackled, popping cheerfully. That was all - no handy note left for him, no message painted on the walls.
Just a damn fireplace, and the same secretive Library as ever. Daniel stood in a rush of fabric, turning toward his coat and mask.
He
couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He just snatched his uniform free and stalked out into the Library.
* * * * *
Around and around they went. Each time, it played out the same. Owl searched the Library like a man possessed, hellbent on finding something about the mysterious intruder in his domain. The answers he found never changed - or the lack thereof.
The silence filling the halls fell heavier and heavier, broken only by his occasional cry of “Hello?” or “Anyone there?” When his frustrations grew too much to contain so sedately, an occasional “Leon?” would join the rest.
Every night, he flopped down on his bed, exhausted and confused but relieved that this time, this time, it would be over. He’d wake, and have his day of freedom, and return to the Library assured that it would be normal again.
Every morning, he awoke back in Alexandria’s clutches.
He couldn’t get out. It was hard to say when the thought took root, wearing past his stubborn frustrations and planting the seeds of fear. Alexandria had him, and it wasn’t letting him out.
Owl smothered the insidious whispers of his doubts, diving into his work with new fervor. He flitted between patrols and coding sessions with frenetic energy, hurrying back into the wings at the slightest rustling of paper or shifting of wood. If he couldn’t leave, he’d at least be productive, he told himself. It didn’t help. Without a way to connect the ethereal Library with the mundane world, progress was impossible.
With every passing day, though, the battle between them rose higher. Doors locked at his approach. The lights flickered on and off, until he carried a lantern everywhere he went. The hallways stretched out longer and longer, refusing to return him to the Library’s heart.
Finally, he trudged out to the entryway, staring at the grand doors that would on any other visit be letting guests through. He stood for a long while in that familiar room, swathed away behind his coat and mask.
Maybe he could get out, that way. Maybe he’d leave like any other scholar, awakening next to...whoever it was. Someone. He could remember her smile, and the way she’d felt in his arms, but...the details fled before him. Someone was waiting for him out there, he knew that much. Maybe he could leap across the Edge and wake up beside her again.
