The Library (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 1)

by Casey White

  “Right.” Owl grinned. “If you want something to happen badly enough, if you hold the image of it happening in your mind, this space will reflect that.”

  He was gratified by the sight of Leon’s eyes widening ever so slightly. “What, just like that?”

  “Just like that,” Owl said, letting the fire over his fingers die out. “It takes some practice, though. You have to trust that it’s going to happen. You can’t doubt. You have to know - or you have to want it badly enough.” Like damn Alan in there and his damn razor-sharp mind.

  Leon snapped his fingers, just like Owl had. Nothing happened. His lips curled down. “I don’t- I guess I don’t get it.”

  “Keep trying,” Owl said. “It’ll come to you.”

  Leon kept snapping, and the air kept failing to ignite. With every snap, his face got a little more frustrated.

  Owl bit down on a sigh - and as Leon’s hand rose again, his fingers pressing together, Owl narrowed his eyes.

  With the next soft crack of fingers sliding off each other, light flared through the hallway.

  Leon yelped, throwing his free hand over his mouth before the noise could fully escape. His eyes were round, fixed on that gently-flickering flame.

  “See?” Owl said, reaching out to pat Leon’s shoulder. “Just like that.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Leon breathed. His fingers spread wide, shaking through the air, and the fire vanished. “That’s crazy.”

  “And if you want it back, all you have to do is-”

  Leon snapped his fingers again. It was a tiny fire, little more than an ember, but it blossomed quickly - along with Leon’s grin. The man beamed, his face lit by the warm oranges and golds.

  “You’ve got it,” Owl said, pretending there wasn’t a pit in his stomach. “Y-Yeah. Good. So, uh-”

  “What now?” Leon said, turning on him. “W-What am I supposed to do with this? I don’t think I should be starting fires or anything.”

  “N-No,” Owl said. “Please don’t. Please don’t do this unless it’s needed. And preferably not fire.”

  “So what the hell am I supposed to-”

  “All you have to do is keep things normal,” Owl said. “If you see them trying to do something, whatever it is, just, like...” He waved his hands, struggling to find the words. “Take in a mental image of the scene as it is. Keep them from changing it. See everything, and, like...lock it in.”

  “Uh...” Leon said, making a face. “Okay. I guess. I think that makes sense.”

  “And keep practicing that,” Owl said. “I know this is weird. You’re doing great. If it goes wrong...” He shrugged, taking a step away. “It is what it is, I guess. Whatever you can do to help.”

  Leon snapped his fingers again. Another ember sparked to life - bigger, this time. Leon shook it out immediately, going pale. “Y-Yeah. I got it.” He looked up toward Owl. “Shouldn’t you go?”

  “Stay out of sight,” Owl said. When he took a step back, though, the tile under his foot wobbled dangerously. He collected himself, straightening, and glanced over.

  Another closet door waited alongside him. Your doing? he whispered silently.

  When he yanked it open, something long and dark waited inside. He grabbed it loose, his brow furrowing at the soft touch of fabric.

  A cloak, he saw as he unfurled it. Black - No. Dark brown, with a delicate pattern woven in with dark grey.

  He tossed it toward Leon without hesitation. “This is yours, I think. Wear that.”

  “Oh, fucking sweet,” he heard Leon say. “Hey. Do I get a mask, too? Like yours?”

  “I doubt it,” Owl said dryly, casting a look back into the closet. Well, Alexandria? A mask? It might help if he gets spotted. Might make them think he’s me, not-

  The closet door slammed shut. A lock clicked from somewhere inside the frame.

  “No mask,” Owl said, taking another step back. “Look. The only asshole running around the Library in a cloak is me. So...if you don’t get too close to anyone, they’ll probably just think you’re me. Don’t push it. Stay out of sight, and-”

  “I get it,” Leon said, already swirling the cloak around his shoulders. A series of dark clasps trailed down the front, holding it closed across the top third of his torso. “Don’t you have stuff to do?”

  Owl took another step away, still locking gazes with Leon. “Don’t get caught. If you have to let them get away with something...that’s fine. Just whatever you do, don’t let them see you. Don’t-”

  “I get it,” Leon said. “Get the hell out of here.”

  Before he could rethink anything, Owl turned, bolting from the hallway.

  Alex, he whispered, already pounding down the stone halls. I need to talk to you. This isn’t going to fly. If you’re cool with helping Leon, can I assume you agree?

  The Library around him didn’t change. But the air sat a little heavier in his lungs, as though a weight pressed down on his shoulders.

  Is that a yes?

  This time, even less of a response was forthcoming. But, a door halfway down the passage swung open. Owl darted toward it, swinging through the opening before it could shut again.

  The sitting room stretched out before him. Owl slowed, only breathing a little hard. His eyes swept across the room, taking it all in - the chairs, the fireplace, the heavily-locked door that led to his quarters.

  He already knew what he wanted. He’d known it for a while, even if he’d tried to tell himself it wasn’t going to work. He’d be...it’d be playing dirty. Something about that didn’t seem like it befitted the Librarian.

  But he couldn’t let the two run rampant through the Library - and the only other option he could think of was to teach them.

  He couldn’t do that.

  The elegantly-worked clock sat high over the mantle, its hourglasses pouring out as steadily as ever. Owl jerked his fingers roughly.

  Around the perimeter of the room, each of the doors slammed shut. Another jerk, and the resounding clank of their bolts driving home filled his ears.

  Lifting his hand, he grasped his mask - and undid the clasps, letting it hang free.

  The fire burned a little brighter, warming his skin as he stepped toward the centerpiece.

  “Look,” Daniel said, collapsing into one of the chairs to stare up at the clock. “I know it’s wrong. I know we’d be lying to them. But I don’t see another way.”

  The clock didn’t budge. Somewhere in the Library rose a steady groan, like the creaking of wood.

  “I don’t want to kick them out right now,” Daniel said. His hands balled up on his knees, gripping the sturdy fabric. “But I want them gone soon. No matter what that takes. Even if it means playing a few games.”

  The fire dimmed. I know what you want, it seemed to say. He couldn’t quite tell if Alexandria was judging him, or if she agreed. “I wouldn’t do this unless the situation was exceptional,” he said quietly, leaning forward. “You know that. I want to help them. But at this rate, they’re a danger to themselves. I can keep myself safe, I think.” If he couldn’t, he was far more fucked than he knew. “But I can’t be forever watching over the two of them.”

  He lifted his eyes. “It’ll be a lie. But a little one.”

  The flames popped, crackling.

  “You know I’m not wrong,” he said, unblinking. “Do you want me to say it outright? Fine.” His eyes tightened. “Shorten their stays. They’ll never know. They live and die by your schedules. So just...hurry them up, a little. You control the passage of time.” He clasped his hands together, looking down at last. “So turn the wheel a little faster. That’s...that’s the best I’ve got, Alex.”

  And then Daniel waited, his mask still hanging free alongside his face and the fire burning at the edge of his vision. He waited, staring down at the floor underfoot and doing his best not to count the seconds.

  Through it all, with every minute that passed, he wondered if he was overstepping. Maybe it wasn’t that big a deal. Maybe Alexandria wou
ld scoff at his concerns.

  Worse still was the idea that Indira might catch wind of the whole mess. Guests using magic was bad. The notion of her learning he’d cut their stay short would be disastrous. Their agreement was a sacred bond, one that’d been enforced since before he was the Librarian at all. She’d be livid.

  What would she do about it? She couldn’t find him, certainly. Would she withdraw, and not use the Library at all? Alexandria would be devastated, he knew. The Library existed to be read. But breaking loose of the Library would be the end of the Booklender’s guild. Surely she wouldn’t walk away from a deal like the one they had. Not over two guests who’d overreached.

  Daniel waited, the thoughts spinning around and around in his head, patiently staring at the floor until the silence of the room burned in his ear and every fiber of his being screamed to move. It wasn’t a refusal, he knew. No, Alexandria would make her intentions clear if that was the case.

  But still, she seemed...unconvinced.

  Finally, when the silence had dragged on beyond his ability to tolerate, he lifted his face.

  “You’ve always said it,” Daniel whispered. “Let no harm come to those within these walls. I’ve heard the murmurs. I’ve seen your messages. I know how seriously you take it.” He let his head fall forward limply. “That’s all I’m trying to do here.”

  For a long moment, the silence continued. Daniel closed his eyes, more lost than ever. What next? What could he say, what could he do that’d convince her to-

  And then the gentle sound of metal squeaking against metal rose in his ears.

  His head snapped up. His eyes fixed on the clock - the clock that was now spinning wildly, the sand pouring out of the hourglasses embedded in its array. His heart leapt.

  “Thanks,” Daniel said, only a little breathlessly. He jumped up, then, teetering for a moment before regaining his balance. “I won’t- I know how important this is. Hopefully it’s a one time thing. I won’t waste it.”

  The flames before him burned brighter, rising up to brush against the bricked-in chimney.

  He’d already turned away, clasping his mask back into place and doing up the straps he’d undone. The metallic sound of the latches undoing themselves groaned across the sitting room a heartbeat before his hip hit the door.

  And then he was back out in the Library proper, walking tall again. It wouldn’t be immediate. He’d probably have to tolerate the few for another few weeks at a minimum, but it gave him an end to look forward to.

  The study doors waited in front of him. He smiled, reaching out and pushing his way in. Even if he had to look after the pair for a while longer, he’d-

  His blood froze. His legs stopped, twitching in place.

  The study was empty. The two desks where Alan and Dylan had whiled away the hours had been abandoned - but a half-empty bottle of amber liquid stood atop one.

  His heart sank. They’d decided to go for a walk. Well...that was good. They could tire themselves out, and go to bed, and then they’d be a day closer to the Library being his again.

  Owl chewed on his lip, his eyes darting this way and that about the study. His office waited atop the balcony, as though calling for him to come and get some work done.

  His feet carried him back into the hallway instead, almost on automatic. I should check on them. I should go find Leon. I should make sure...

  The thoughts still screaming in his ears, he strode back into the dark.

  * * * * *

  Step after step, he hurried down the tiled paths. Every intersection he came to, he glanced down - and each time, he was greeted with only darkened rooms and deserted studies.

  The candles were burning low, he realized. Alexandria, trying to tell their wandering guests to come home for the night? They brightened at his approach, casting the next few steps into sharper relief, but faded out just as quickly once he passed.

  His steps hastened. Eyes pricked, he broke into a jog.

  They had to be somewhere. “Alex?” he whispered, his voice pitched low. “I could...use a hand here. Would you mind?”

  Another few paces fell away before him, his every sense on high alert. The gentle scraping of stonework moving sent shivers down his spine.

  Ahead. One of the walls - it was sinking before his very eyes, opening to expose another passage behind. Owl lunged for it with a quiet, thankful noise.

  The wing waiting on the other side was as lovely as ever, with towering ceilings dotted with crystalline glasswork and grand chandeliers. Row after row of narrow shelves rose to fill the expanse, their dark wood standing bold against the dim, soft light.

  Owl stepped in - and again, froze in his tracks.

  A shape ran down one of the aisles, swathed in dark fabric - Leon. Owl saw his frame jerk as his friend caught sight of him. Leon sprinted over before Owl could say a word.

  “O-Owl,” Leon panted. “Look. I...I did my best. They-”

  “Did they cast?” Owl interrupted.

  Leon shook his head, his hair flying every which way. “N-No. No.” A tiny, proud grin blossomed on his face. “I handled that. No problem.”

  “Awesome,” Owl said, squeezing Leon’s shoulder. “That’s great. I can’t tell you how much I-”

  “But they’re a mess,” Leon said, crows’ feet appearing at the corners of his eyes. “I’m- I can’t do anything, not when I’m...me. But they’re going to-”

  Laughter boomed across the Library. Leon stopped - and together, both him and Owl looked up. Somewhere in the wing, Alan and Dylan were having a great time.

  “I’ll get it,” Owl said, stepping away. “All good. Thanks, Leon.”

  “They’re- They’re in a mood,” Leon said, stumbling after him. “And they’re still- They haven’t given up. Be careful, Owl.”

  “I will,” Owl said, but a hint of unease washed over him. Under the hem of his hood, Leon looked...worried.

  Whatever it was, he’d handle it. Turning away, he hurried into the shelves.

  If there was a silver lining for the whole situation, it was that the two scholars were easy enough to follow. Their chatter and jeers drifted from row to row, echoing behind the pair. Owl sped closer and closer, tracking them relentlessly. And the closer he got, the more it became apparent what Leon had meant.

  He’d thought their words were unintelligible because of the distance. But as he wore down the gap between them, the truth became clear in their slurred words and raucous laughter.

  The final rack fell away - and Owl saw them at last. Alan and Dylan stumbled up one of the aisles, meandering this way and that. Dylan clutched a candelabra he must’ve taken off one of the tables. Owl’s heart sank. A bottle hung from his other hand. The one left in the study hadn’t been their first, then.

  “I’m...I’m tellin’ you,” Alan mumbled. “I’m no fool. I’m not-”

  “I believe you,” Dylan said, his laughter building. “Really, I...I do. Y-Yep.” He swooped in, ready to give Alan a consoling pat on the shoulder, but his friend pushed him away. He staggered, collecting himself. “Rude. See...If it was real, thas’ kinda a big deal, yeah? It’d be sweet.” He grinned, drawing the candles closer and spreading his fingers wide about them. “I could just do this, an’, an’ I’d-”

  Owl’s steps increased in urgency. He could see them, yes - but in a damn wing this big, seeing them was only half the battle. He sucked in a lungful of air, opening his mouth to call, and-

  And saw Dylan stumble, one foot catching on the edge of a shelf. He saw the man start to topple.

  He saw the flames bursting out from around his fingertips, billowing off the tops of the candles. They licked at Dylan’s hand - and at Alan, suddenly back in the line of fire as Dylan tumbled in an ungainly heap.

  Alan’s cries split the quiet as Dylan slammed into him - and the fires caught in an instant.

  Owl was at a full run by then, one hand snapping up and a wordless cry ripping from his throat.

  None of it helped as Alan threw himself
backward, roaring in pain and terror and tearing at his shirt.

  His shoulder blades slammed into the shelf behind him.

  The screech of wood shifting rose under his cries, a painfully-brief warning of the chaos unfolding around them. The flames danced behind him, limning the books in gold and red.

  Owl gaped, his fingers spread and his mind a blurred haze of panic. Too fast. It was all too fast, and he was too damn far. There was just too much.

  His mind lashed out, holding onto the scene around them for a single, passing moment.

  And then it broke, and the sound of Alan’s bellows fell away as the bookshelf careened down into its neighbor.

  - Chapter Twenty-Four -

  Owl froze, one hand outstretched. His eyes spread wide, hidden behind their mask. The world slowed, the perfect opposite of the heart that thundered in his chest.

  Alan thrashed, still smouldering. Still burning. Even as Owl watched, he lurched, overbalancing.

  The bookshelf behind him wasn't there to catch him. He went over backwards, the fires clinging to his sweater tumbling down with him.

  Books are not flammable. The thought rang through Owl's head, his silent amusement every time he watched this or that film. There's no airflow. It's not that dangerous.

  So he thought - and it might have been true. But the books were ancient, artfully treated with who knows what. Before Owl's wide, aghast eyes, he saw the flames spread with every bat of Alan's arms.

  With a tremendous boom, another shelf collapsed. And then another.

  "Move," a woman whispered, right in his ear.

  Owl moved. He surged forward, his eyes flashing back and forth between his smoking, fire-riddled guest and the bookshelves toppling one after another. Two battles - and only one of him.

  In the end, the decision was made for him. Alan bellowed, the sound laced with agony, and what little hesitation Owl had had vanished. With the ball of his foot braced against the ground, he lunged, calling up his magic with the motion.

  He felt the air around him swell, catching and tugging at his jacket. In an instant he was aloft, the step carrying him across the gap and farther than any one step should have had a right to. One hand outstretched, he shot toward Alan.