by Casey White
The candles overhead flickered. Owl lifted his eyes, letting them sweep across the entryway. Alexandria had been...shockingly neutral about all of this, so far. Was she still thinking about it? Or was she in favor of the arrangement? He’d assumed she would’ve already put her foot down, if it was a ‘no’ from her. Letting his breath hiss out, he turned back to the pair - and to Olivia in particular.
“That’s all?” Owl said. “You just want to help? You’re that altruistic?” He chuckled sourly. “Getting inside Alexandria has nothing at all to do with it?”
The flush spreading across her cheeks worsened. “It’s a factor,” she muttered. “But I care about the guild, too. And Alexandria. I want to help. Is that so hard to believe?”
If he wasn’t wearing a mask and a hood, he would have torn at his hair, rubbed his face. They were putting him in a difficult position, damn it. He could...he could see what they were saying.
And yet, he could still remember Adrian charging across this same room. He could still remember the terror at seeing metal fly through the air toward him.
Indira and Olivia seemed earnest enough. Why, then, was he still uncomfortable about this?
“Let me consider it,” he said, hefting the papers. “I couldn’t possibly decide something like this right now. I’m...not sure about it. But, let me look, and-”
“Of course,” Indira said, and she shook her head furiously. “We’d never try and hurry you, Librarian. Like I said, we want to make sure you have all the time you need to consider it.”
“Right,” he said, unconvinced. “In that matter...if you don’t mind, I’d like to properly take a look at this.” He gestured toward the door - which slid open, exposing the wall of light that lay behind.
Olivia drooped. Indira reached out to take her elbow, shooting an irritated glare at the younger woman. “Come, then,” he heard her mutter. “Don’t sulk, girl.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Olivia said. She looked back to Owl, though, and flashed a smile his way. “Just think on it, Owl. That’s all I’m asking.”
Indira’s tug became more insistent still. She nodded in Owl’s direction as she towed Olivia away. “Thank you for your time and your understanding, Librarian.”
His mind still flooded with new possibilities and new offers, the notion of ‘words’ was too far away for him to find. Owl bowed instead, which had the added benefit of not having to actually look at the pair.
He held the pose until the exit door creaked shut, until the brilliant light died away and left him in the dark again. Then he rose, trudging back toward Alexandria’s entrance.
And he thought.
- Chapter Thirty -
“I can’t go,” the man whispered. His eyes were narrowed, glowing like orbs of pure light against his translucent skin. “It’s here somewhere. I can’t- I won’t rest. Not until-”
“We’ll find it,” Owl mumbled. The words came out on automatic, more a force of habit than any intent by him to help. He reached up for one book after another mechanically pulling them out and passing them in front of his dreamer companion.
Each time, though, the man kept shaking his head. “No,” he whispered, his voice resonating through the Library. “No, no, no. It’s not-”
“Be patient,” Owl said, taking another book in hand. “I’m here. I’ll help you.”
They just want company, he heard someone say in his memories - a familiar voice, one that he’d known as well as his own. They want someone by their side, that’s all. A bit of comfort. It’s within our power to provide.
Comfort, she’d told him. He smiled wistfully behind his mask, handing the latest tome to their guest. A bit of comfort would be nice, instead of more questions. Instead of more worries. Every time he thought he had a handle on things, it all kept crashing down around his-
“Ah,” the dreamer breathed, snatching a book from the end and staring down at the illustration on its cover. Owl stopped. The man was smiling by then, relief suffusing every line of his expression. “Ah. I remember, now. How could I forget?”
For a moment, his white-on-white eyes flicked to meet Owl’s. “Thank you,” he heard the man whisper. “Thank you, stranger.”
Owl winced, stepping back and turning his face away. The space between the shelves went white. About time, his thoughts whispered. That one was so stubborn. Is Alexandria trying to drag her chores out?
Before his eyes, the dreamer’s glow settled, becoming more constant. His work was done. He exhaled slowly, inclining his head toward their unwitting guest. “Safe reading,” he murmured.
And then he started to back away, creeping down the aisle until the moment broke. With a swish of his coat, he set off back towards the Library’s heart.
His work might be done - and yet, his mind stayed every bit as jumbled as before.
Indira. He frowned, hardly noticing the halls pass by on either side. She’d come here. She’d set her own assistant to enter the Library as a guest. Here. Olivia. Right after Alan and Dylan had destroyed an entire section of Alexandria in their magical mishaps.
Was it a trap? Was she trying to use Olivia to gather information for her? Or was Indira being honest, and she really did value their partnership that much? His jaw tightened. Both choices had consequences, if he should choose poorly. And he had no idea where to begin.
With every swing of his arms, the fabric and leather tugged at his skin. The gloves. His hands were sweating, making the material cling. His brow furrowed.
Indira’s presence was just an afterthought, when it came down to it, right along with Olivia asking to come. He’d known she wanted to be a visitor. She’d been screaming that since the minute she arrived. Of course Indira would see that as an easy way for her to save face.
It was the rest of what she’d said that caught in his mind, refusing to fade away no matter how he tried. The things about Crow. About...About Jean.
And the things about him.
His heart sank when the sitting room came into sight, with his door waiting right in its familiar place. The Library was empty but for him. His time was his own. There was nothing standing in his way but himself.
His own nerves were bound and determined to prove themselves a formidable foe.
One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. Owl forced himself to keep moving, lifting each foot and placing it back down with deliberate intention. He’d been putting things off for long enough. He’d been putting himself at everyone else’s mercy with his own lack of knowledge.
It’d hurt less when he knew.
Surely.
His hand came to rest on the handle to his quarters, smooth and cold. He let it linger there, squeezing his fingers more tightly against the metal. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his head.
And pushed his way in.
His room was just as he’d left it, of course - warm wooden rafters overhead, spread with fairy lights. A fire burned in the hearth, soft and low but still bright enough to provide a bit of light. The atmosphere was...cozy. Cozier than usual, even. Owl smiled bitterly, swinging his hand back to flip the lock. With a rattle, it closed. It was done. None could enter.
He moved through his routine, each motion slow and practiced. His fingers slid under the edge of his hood, reaching inward until they met the buckles within. They fell free with a touch, until the cowl tumbled down to his collar.
The mask came off next, leaving his skin bare to the fresh air. He set it onto its nightstand rack, well within reach of him should the need arise overnight.
One button at a time, he undid the clasps on his coat, pushing the carved bone and brass through perfectly-shaped slits. With each one, the pressure around his shoulders eased a little more.
Something very close to regret washed through him as he pulled the coat free, settling it onto its hook. His time was running out. No matter how he procrastinated, his mission wouldn’t change. With a muted groan, he stripped, grabbing for the tried-and-true standbys Alexandria kept waiting in his wardrobe. �
��No sense being uncomfortable,” he muttered.
No more wasting time. No more running. Daniel stood straight, then, his tee and sweats oddly out of place amidst the fantastical decor.
The shelf waited right where it always had. Book after book sat coated in dust, evidence of his years of neglect.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Fine. So be it.”
Steeling himself, he strode forward - and stopped, one hand outstretched.
Jean’s books sat there on the rack. But...there were so many of them. His eyes darted here and there, suddenly realizing he had a bigger issue. “Where am I supposed to start?” he mumbled, letting his fingertips drag across the bindings. “Uh...Alex?”
When Alexandria didn’t point out the correct text with a notable sigh, Daniel gritted his teeth. “Fine,” he muttered. “This all started with her needing a replacement right? She needed me?” His hand snapped to the last book on the rack, all the way at the end. “This one, then.”
A bead of sweat rolled down his back. The damn thing was still as wide as a dictionary, with wafer-thin pages. How she’d managed to write on them, he’d never know.
Maybe she didn’t, his thoughts whispered. You’re barely keeping a journal yourself. Maybe the Library is documenting the rest of your life, just like it documented hers. Maybe all your innermost thoughts are getting scrawled across pages in some book, ready and waiting to be spewed out to whoever comes next. Maybe-
He made a low, irritated noise, yanking the book free and stalking back toward his bed. He’d figure it out. Whatever it was, whatever he needed to do.
The mattress creaked underneath him, giving way far enough to meld him into the warm, blanket-lined depths. A bit of the anxiety drifted away. He’d just...he’d read. That was all.
His pulse hammering in his ears, he pushed himself back against the headboard. He flipped the cover open, trying to ignore the crow sigils lacing the corner of every page, and...
Stopped.
“That’s...still a lot, isn’t it?” he whispered, starting to flip through the pages. “This is still going to take me hours. Days. Alex, I could be working my way through the full set for weeks.” He didn’t want her life’s history, he just- he just wanted to know. He wanted to figure out what the hell was going on. What had happened back then.
Faster and faster he flipped through, finding only delicate, narrow lettering staring back at him. “You’ve got to give me somewhere to start,” he said. “A- A chapter heading, or something. A nice label saying ‘I needed to acquire a kid today’. Come on, Alex. Give me something to-”
A page slipped from between his fingers, falling to the back cover. A ribbon flopped out with it. Daniel froze.
A black ribbon - narrow, and leading back to the spine. A bookmark, then. A placeholder. And if there was a bookmark, it had to be marking something.
His fingers trembled. He slipped them between the pages, tugging gently on the smooth silk. The book bent with it. The spine cracked with age, popping as tired glue was coaxed into flexing again.
With a final pop, the pages flopped to one side.
Daniel stared down at the journal, tight-lipped. The rest of the book looked manufactured enough, or at least more...thought out. He could almost see her sitting over the desk into the dark hours of the night, carefully penning out line after line.
There was no doubt in his mind that the page that lay before him was handwritten. Or that his predecessor had been...upset. Words covered the paper, each as looping and elegant as the rest. And yet...there was a wobble to each flourish, an occasional line that stood out sharp and dark. The rest was perfect - but this was human.
His heart in his throat, he pushed himself against the headboard, tugging the pages closer. Biting his lip, he let his eyes drop to the first line.
Daniel
A shiver rolled down his spine. Daniel. He...remembered being called that. It’d been years, but...he could still remember the way that name sounded. He’d been anything but Daniel since then. Dan. Danny. Owl.
He hadn’t realized how much he missed Daniel.
Daniel,
It’s done, then. It’s not like I have a lot of time left, not after Adrian came and pulled his nonsense stunt. The bastard used up most of the magic I had left away. I knew it immediately. At least I don’t have to wonder when the end is coming. It cut a few years of wondering down to this. Silver linings.
Daniel smiled faintly. Her voice echoed in the back of his head, until he could almost hear her saying the words on the page. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear the sarcasm dripping from her every word. He clutched the book, swallowing hard.
There’s a lot more I wanted to teach you. So much more. I’m sorry that I won’t get the time. I hoped to give you as much of my wisdom as I could, before the clock ran out. But we’re not going to get that time, so I suppose I shouldn’t prattle on about it.
I’m sorry.
Daniel paused a moment, his eyes lingering on those two little words. He knew what’d happened - but there was a difference between knowing it himself, or being told it by Indira, and hearing it from Crow’s own lips. Well. Hands.
I should have acted earlier. A decade earlier, if we’re being honest. I was a fool, and I didn’t, and now you’re paying the price for my foolishness. The letters here plunged in deeper than the rest, until Daniel wondered how she’d managed to keep from tearing through the page. I told myself I was still young. There was no need to find an apprentice. I told myself they were only a risk. A vulnerability. And so when the time came, I was unprepared.
It was my heart, I think. My fate was sealed before I even set eyes on you. Nothing you or I did would have changed that. That’s life, kid. Don’t be too sad.
Maybe I should have taken Adrian’s offer, years back. He said he’d set me up with someone, someone young and prepared to take over the place. You don’t have to let them pick for you, Daniel. You can choose your own, if you like. I thought I was going to. I thought, Adrian’s an ass. I didn’t want his fingers in Alexandria’s business, even that much.
Guess I was right on that too. Here’s hoping Indira’s better. She’s a sweet one. Kinder than her predecessor, I think. But she’s got a sharp head on her shoulders, too, and don’t forget it. Power has a way of seeping under people’s skin and changing them. The guild is on their own side, not ours. We need them. But be careful.
I hope both of you can be better than Adrian and I were.
There was a gap, then, like she’d paused for a moment and hadn’t quite gotten settled onto the right line when she came back.
I killed you.
Daniel’s blood froze. He stared down at the words, his heart beating faster still.
That’s how I see it. I told myself I didn’t have a choice. I told myself it was necessary. But I took a little boy from his family and I killed him. I wiped him blank until everything that made him Daniel was gone. And then I built him up again to suit my own needs.
I took that boy from you. Your life. Your family. Your future. And that’s something I can’t ever give back. That day, when I brought you inside, I realized it. I knew I couldn’t possibly make you understand. You were a scared child who wanted his parents. So I ran away from the issue, and sacrificed your own freedom in the process.
I should have told you while I was still alive. I should have explained everything. I should have been better, but I was too afraid.
You’ll be a fine Librarian. That much, I believe completely. Believe in your instincts. Trust your senses. You were born to this, however unwillingly. I’ll accept the sin of that if it gives you a chance to thrive.
If I could give you the chance to choose your fate, I would. I would trade anything for it. That’s a right I never should have taken away from you.
I pray that Alexandria takes mercy on my soul. I won’t expect it from you.
You were the final light that shone when the rest of the world was going dark. I didn’t deserve that companionship. B
ut it made an old lady’s last task just a little easier.
Jean Morris
He stared at the last fragments of her writing, fixing his eyes on her name. If he kept staring, he didn’t have to acknowledge the moisture burning in the corners of his eyes, the lump that swelled in his throat. A thousand emotions roiled through him. Grief. Confusion. Anger. Fear.
He’d known. He’d known all along. There was nothing so new here.
But it was different.
There were other books. No doubt, all of them contained the information he’d been missing - her life, and her experiences, and whatever else had taken place between her and Adrian. Jean was still here, in a way, even if she’d faded long ago.
Soon, he’d begin. He’d tear through them, digging out every scrap of knowledge that could be useful.
For now...
He pulled the book closer to his chest, until he couldn’t see the words anymore. His head lolled back against the headboard. Her words filled his mind, whispering louder and louder until he could hardly hear himself think. The words she’d written - and the words she’d said, that long-past day in the sitting room.
He could still see her smile, sad and small. He could see the sheen of the firelight across her silver-grey hair.
Soon, he’d start working again.
For now, he closed his eyes, remembering.
- Chapter Thirty-One -
The shelves drifted by. Owl walked, hardly noticing them. Periodically, he glanced down an aisle, scanning for a telltale glow. All he found were books.
Right then, with his head still spinning, he’d almost welcome a dreamer. He’d hoped that some distance and some time would settle his thoughts. Thus far, the handful of days that’d passed since he read Jean’s journals had done nothing of the sort. If time wouldn’t do it, he reasoned, maybe distracting himself with some work would.
Only now, Alexandria seemed quieter than ever.
He sighed, turning away, and trudged deeper into the halls.
