The Library (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 1)

by Casey White

The world went very still and quiet, then. Owl gaped, frozen in place from his spot on the balcony. Magic. Alan was using magic. Inside the Library. As a guest.

  And why couldn’t he? his thoughts shrieked. That old guildmaster did, didn’t he? The image flashed through his mind - the man, with shards of ice and fire spraying from his hands. And the black-masked woman, who’d-

  Owl shook his head fiercely, driving the scene away. Alan was using magic, right there in front of him. It was dangerous. And if anyone else caught wind, anyone outside-

  His limbs snapped back into motion. Leon was just a forgotten afterthought, a shadowed figure right on the edge of his vision. Owl dashed forward, gathering his steps. He could jump the railing, be down in an instant, and-

  And then what?

  His common sense kicked in right before he could hurl himself from the ledge. He skidded to a stop, slamming into the wooden railing.

  Below, the water fell at last from Alan’s pale, shaking hands to stain the floor tiles.

  Don’t panic, Owl whispered to himself. Don’t freak out. If you go leaping from the rafters, they’re going to know this is a big deal. His gloved hands tightened against the wooden rail.

  “Owl?” he heard Leon mutter, somewhere in the shelves behind him. He gave a quick, tiny shake of his head, still staring down at Alan and Dylan.

  Play it cool, Daniel.

  He glanced back over his shoulder ever so slightly, locking eyes with Leon. “Wait here,” he whispered.

  His friend blinked - then nodded, sliding back into the shadows of the shelves.

  Every fiber of his being screamed to hurry down, to race until he hovered right on the edge of falling. But Owl forced himself to move slowly and deliberately, working his way one step at a time along the railing.

  Onto the stairs.

  And down onto the landing. His hands quivered, vibrating with the pent-up energy simmering within him. He turned, then, letting his palm slide along the bannister.

  Alan and his colleague were still transfixed, staring at the shattered porcelain. But as Owl started forward, he saw Dylan rise, his head swiveling back and forth between the spilled water and his friend.

  “Did...Did you...” Dylan said.

  “Did you see that?” Alan said, still holding his hand out.

  “Jesus. It’s like you just-”

  “I don’t know how I-”

  “Is everything all right?” Owl said, sliding his hands into his pockets.

  The two turned toward him. For once, Alan didn’t look so confident. He licked his lips, still quivering gently. “L-Librarian. You’ll never believe what happened. I-”

  “Don’t worry about the plates,” Owl said, stooping low. He reached out, snagging a still-whole plate from the table, and started picking up one piece of shattered porcelain at a time. “Alexandria is less than real. A great deal of what you see around you is simply in your head.”

  “B-But, I...I reached out, and-”

  “Nothing more,” Owl said, lifting his head and pinning Alan in place with a stare. “And nothing less.”

  Alan fell silent, then, his face ghostly white. Owl returned to the ruined shards, picking up one after another and setting them onto the plate with a steady, repetitive tink.

  It’d be faster if he could use magic. If he could just wave his hand, and have the dishes reform before their very eyes. It would take a job that promised to stretch over minutes, and condense it down to seconds.

  But if he did that, then his guests would spot him, and their minds would go straight back to magic. Right now, that was a conclusion he very, very much wanted to avoid.

  “Are you two all right?” Owl said, more softly, and sat back on his heels. The both of them looked ready to keel over.

  Alan shook his head. “I...Librarian, I swear, I held my hand out, and...for a moment, I was sure that-”

  To Owl’s horror, the man stretched his hand out, hovering it over the heap of broken shards. His fingers tensed, like they were gripping the empty air.

  He’ll do it again. The whispers grew louder in the back of his mind, more insistent. He’s focused, and he’s determined, and he knows. Don’t let him do it.

  A bead of sweat rolled down the back of Owl’s neck, disappearing under the collar of his jacket. His eyes stayed glued to the shards, holding the image there in his mind.

  Alexandria’s magic was all about visualization. Images. Belief. If Alan wanted to toy with things inside of the Library, then he’d be doing so with his own mind and thoughts.

  Which meant that all Owl had to do was be stronger.

  Every angle of the shards stood out in his mind’s eye, cast into perfect relief across the distance. He bit his lip, fixated. Don’t move. Don’t twitch. How they are is how they stay. Don’t-

  Right on the edge of the pile, a fragment of porcelain fell free, tumbling to the tiles. Owl twitched, redoubling his mental image. His lungs burned, straining against the lungful of air he couldn’t bring himself to exhale.

  But Alan shifted, the moment past. He lifted his hand, staring down at his empty palm as though betrayed. “I don’t...get it,” he said.

  “Is something the matter?” Owl said, and even if his pulse still thundered in his ears, he couldn’t keep the satisfied tone from his voice.

  “Ah...Librarian,” Alan said, and glanced over at him. “I just...I could have sworn I-”

  “It was insane,” Dylan said, wobbling closer. “The- The plate fell, and-”

  “I see that,” Owl said.

  “And then, Alan stuck his hand out, and...” Dylan shook his head. “The glass fell, but all the water inside...it was like it all just...hovered. Like he’d grabbed it in midair, right there in a little ball.”

  “Oh, my,” Owl said mildly.

  “What’s going on?” Alan said. A note of suspicion had kindled in his voice, somewhere between his failed magical attempt and Dylan’s explanations. “What was that? I-”

  “I couldn’t say,” Owl said. He shrugged, slow and deliberate. “Perhaps it was a trick of the light. Or perhaps-”

  “It wasn’t a trick,” Alan snapped. “I know what I saw. And-”

  “Or perhaps,” Owl said, “It was Alexandria trying to aid you.”

  The two scholars froze, glancing around furtively. “Alexandria?” Dylan whispered.

  “The Library can intervene, if it so chooses,” Owl said. Damn it, he didn’t want to be telling them all of this - but Indira already knew that Alexandria had a mind of her own, and in terms of damage control, he’d rather convince the pair it was just the library around them than that they could cast magic with their bare hands. “Perhaps she tried to save your drink.” He chuckled. “She failed.”

  The pair shifted, looking from the pile of shards, to the table. And back to the shards.

  Come on, Owl willed. Buy it, you assholes. It’s not that far from the truth. Just-

  “I suppose,” Alan said finally.

  “Y-Yeah,” Dylan said with a nervous chuckle. “I guess. I mean, this place is crazy. I guess that makes sense.”

  “Don’t bother yourselves over this,” Owl said, waving a hand at the mess. “There are plenty of tables. I suggest you settle in somewhere less...sharp, and I’ll see about cleaning it up.”

  Dylan scurried away, snatching up his books one after another, but Alan’s steps were slower. He glanced back toward the mound, his eyes narrowing.

  Owl’s breath caught in his throat, his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand as he reinforced his mental image. No matter what Alan pulled out, he’d counter it. An ache built in his temples, like someone had grabbed hold of his head and squeezed.

  And then the pressure faded, and Alan turned and trudged away. His eyes were dark, though. Contemplative.

  Owl stared after him for a long moment, frozen. In that instant, he knew - he couldn’t leave Alan alone anymore. The man was too close - and having a guest in the Library who could access Alexandria’s magic without be
ing trained in it was just too risky. Too dangerous.

  If the worst came to pass, he might even put Dylan at risk. Owl’s mouth went dry.

  “Let no harm come to any who-”

  Owl whirled, eyes going wide, but the study was empty behind him.

  The woman’s voice lingered in his ears, though, low and soft and serious enough his chest burned. He stood there, letting the last echoes of it fade, then turned and stalked for the door.

  This time, when he strode out of the light and into the shadows of the hallway, it was a relief. He needed a solution - a way to get Alan out of Alexandria without tipping the man off that anything was out of the ordinary.

  He laughed sourly. He needed a damn miracle.

  A narrow door lay ahead, ancient and dark with centuries of hand-oil and lacquer. Again, Owl shook his head. Him. The Librarian. Fetching a broom.

  His hand hit the latch - and a pale face appeared around the corner of the hall beside him.

  “Owl?” Leon whispered.

  Owl exhaled, his shoulders slumping. “Head on home, Leon,” Owl said. “Sorry. I don’t think I’m going to be able to-”

  “I don’t care about the stupid exam,” Leon said, drawing closer. “I’ll- I’ll come back tomorrow. James wanted to look up some new mix recipes, anyway.” He grinned, but the expression was tight, strained. “You can make it up to me then. What’s going on?”

  Owl pulled the closet door open, grabbing the straw-topped broom that waited within. I’ve got all the knowledge in the world at my fingertips and a fortune of magic at my disposal, and I’m stuck as a damn janitor. “It’s a problem with the guests,” he whispered. “That’s all. Just...Just a problem. I’ll handle it.”

  “Can I help?”

  Leon drew closer, his eyes wide and his face pale but without even a trace of fear in his expression. Owl glanced up to him, then away. The closet door shut with a gentle click.

  It was nice, he thought with a wry smile. Nice to have someone standing here like a rock, steady in the storm. Nice to not have to worry through this entirely alone.

  Is that why you brought Leon to the Library?

  He waited, fingers sliding against the wood broomstick, but his only response was a faint glimmer in the candles.

  “Owl?” Leon said. “I-I’m serious. If something’s going on, I’ll...I’ll do what I can.” He made a face. “Which, okay, it’s probably not much, but, uh...maybe I can do something.”

  “Thanks,” Owl said, turning back for the door to the study. “I appreciate it, Leon. Might take you up on that.”

  Leon’s eyes sparkled. Owl groaned, holding up a hand. “Not yet,” he whispered, licking his lips. Alan had been in there too long. Couldn’t leave their guests without supervision - but he needed time, too. He needed the space to work through this and find a solution. “Just...Just give me a minute, and...”

  And what? He’d find a way to dissuade the insanely-focused man from his prize? He might as well ask for a miracle.

  Leon waited right where he’d been left, peering around the corner in the murky dark of the hallway.

  Lifting his head high, Owl set his jaw and strode for the study door.

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  - Chapter Twenty-Three -

  Owl grabbed a book from the shelf, glaring at it like an enemy.

  And then he turned, stalking back toward the study.

  How had it come to this? He sniffed, tucking the book under his arm. He’d planned everything so carefully. He’d kept Alexandria on the tracks for so many years.

  It’d all gone wrong so quickly.

  He’d deal with it. He’d make it through. He jogged back through the doors, pretending he couldn’t feel Leon’s eyes lingering on him from the shadows. Alan and Dylan sat at their tables, oddly quiet.

  With any luck, they were quiet because they were working. The reason why they were here, versus playing around with more magic. He’d been trying to get them back on task since the whole mess started, hours before. Which was why-

  “Here,” he said, hoisting the book aloft. The two scholars looked up, their eyes widening. He smiled darkly. “I overheard the two of you discussing the project. I thought this might help.” He set it down on the table between them. “It’s-”

  “A census!” Alan said, stiffening. His eyes lit up, with sparks all but flying free to scatter across the table. “Oh. Oh, is that-”

  “Will this get your research moving again?” Owl said, folding his arms.

  Alan didn’t respond. He’d already scooped the book up, burying his nose in it until all that could be seen was the top of his head.

  Dylan snorted, grabbing his partner’s notes and sliding them free. “Oh, you’ve done it now. He’ll be busy all day, Librarian.”

  “Good.”

  “What’s that, now?”

  “Good luck,” Owl said. “I hope you make some progress. But don’t work too hard, now.” He chuckled. Not that the two had ever struggled in finding Alexandria’s accommodations. Even as he watched, Dylan glanced sidelong toward the cabinet where Alex had taken to stashing goodies for them.

  “Right,” Dylan said, starting to grin.

  Alan said nothing at all. He just kept flipping through the book, completely focused again. But his fingers rubbed together slowly. Now and again, he glanced down to them, and snapped his fingertips.

  Owl backed away. Now was his chance. They were distracted. They weren’t done - he’d heard them gossiping right at the edge of his vision, and he’d spent enough time counteracting their clumsy attempts at magic to know that the two were nothing if not stubborn - but they’d called a halt to the magic for the time being.

  Whatever he was going to do, he needed to do it now.

  No sooner had Owl taken a step away, though, when he slowed again. Maybe...Maybe this was what Alan wanted. Maybe they were just waiting for him to get distracted before they tried again in full. Alan was observant, damn it. Maybe he’d realized that Owl was up to something.

  Owl swallowed, trying to force moisture into his suddenly-dry mouth. This was the best chance he’d gotten so far. That didn’t make it safe.

  Damn it, he didn’t know what to do, anymore.

  He swept toward the door, fighting the urge to look back to where the two scholars worked. Looking back would make him seem doubtful. Suspicious. If this was going to work, he needed to look like absolutely nothing was wrong.

  But he sighed as he stepped out of the study, forcing his fists to unclench.

  “Hey,” someone hissed. “You good?”

  Owl stopped. The door swung shut behind him. “You’re still here?” he murmured, glancing over to Leon.

  His friend stood right where he’d been left, at the corner of the main hallway. His brassy hair looked a little more frazzled and worked-through than it had a few hours before, but his eyes were steady as he waited. “Y-Yeah. I mean, where was I going to go?”

  “Back outside,” Owl said, walking closer. “Back to your bed to get the rest of your night’s sleep. You didn’t- I didn’t mean you should wait around for hours and hours, Leon.”

  Leon chuckled, swiping at his nose. “No big. Besides. This is some sort of big-shit deal, isn’t it?”

  Owl flinched. “U-Uh. I mean. Yes and no.”

  “You certainly seemed to think it was before you went back in there.”

  “It’s,” Owl began, then drooped. “It’s complicated. The Booklenders should be aware of the fact that people aside from the Librarian can use magic.”

  “That’s that guild thing, right?”

  Owl nodded slowly. Indira should remember, certainly. He could still remember the young woman standing alongside her guildmaster as he sparred with Jean. She’d remember.

  “But it’s...it’s more than that,” he continued. “It’s dangerous. They’re not trained. I just...I don’t like it.”

  “Gotcha,” Leon said. “Yeah. That’s tough.”

  Owl licked his li
ps, casting a glance toward the study. “I need to go fix this. But I also need to keep an eye on them. So-”

  “Can I help? Can I do anything to fix it?”

  Turning, Owl shot Leon a sidelong grin. “I...don’t think so. Thanks, though. Really, Leon, I-”

  “So what about babysitting them, then?”

  Shock rippled through Owl’s gut, carried on a wash of adrenaline. “W-What? I don’t-”

  “I can’t guarantee I’ll do any good, but...” Leon shrugged. “Even if I do a bad job of it, that’s still better than nothing, isn’t it? So let me help.”

  Let him help? Leon? Owl’s pulse thundered.

  Him helping would mean him filling the same role Owl had been taking on since this whole shitstorm started - he’d have to counteract whatever attempts Alan made.

  He’d have to use magic. And Owl would have to teach him.

  “It’s not a good idea,” Owl whispered, shaking his head furiously. “Y-You’re not trained. I don’t-”

  “Come on,” Leon said. “It’s me.”

  Owl’s words fell away. His eyes hovered on Leon, searching every line of his expression for a lie, for a falsehood, for some indication the man was trying to play tricks.

  It’d been ages since Leon first appeared in Alexandria’s halls. And just about every night, Alex would pull him into the Library for a visit. Sometimes it’d just be Leon. Sometimes James would come along too. And every time, Leon seemed entranced by the magical Library and the secrets it held.

  He was just a stranger at the end of the day - but Owl had looked into him. His connections were clean. And Alexandria liked him. Out of anyone in the world, Leon was the one person Owl would even consider teaching. It might not solve all their problems, but if it could just keep things held together for another spell...

  “Okay,” he whispered, coming to a decision in the blink of an eye. “Okay.”

  “O-Okay?” Leon said. “What do you mean-”

  Owl snapped his fingers in front of his nose. A fire blossomed there, like a candle took root over his gloved fingertips. “It’s about belief,” he said. “This is the Library. It’s real, but it’s not. You’re sleeping, out there. So-”

  “So it’s like a dream,” Leon said, nodding. “Yeah. You’ve said that before.”