by Casey White
“I’m here now,” Alexandria said, stepping forward again. The soft, indistinct blur of her filled what little vision Owl had left, all but blocking the dreamer from sight. “There’s still time.”
“B-But-”
“Please don’t break my things.” This time, he was sure he heard the low rumble of laughter accompanying her words.
The death-grip around his wrists loosened - and started to slacken entirely. Through the slits of his vision, he saw the dreamer release him, turning to face the woman.
It was hard to be sure, with only a scrap of vision, but the dreamer was starting to look almost translucent. “So...you’ll...”
“I remember,” Alexandria said, more softly. The glow of her skin brightened, never losing its warmth. Against the unflinching light of her, the dreamer’s form continued to fade. “I didn’t forget my promise. And I never will.”
Owl heard the dreamer sigh, saw him bow his head. And then-
Alexandria leaned forward as the dreamer’s outline shifted, merging with hers. “You’ll always have a place here,” she murmured.
In another instant the dreamer was gone, reduced to flickering embers that cascaded down into the water. Owl watched the woman hold the pose, one hand clasped to her chest.
The strings holding him upright had been cut away, though. The world tilted wildly, spinning. Owl lurched, what little control he had left disappearing along with the dreamer’s ironclad grip on him. His vision drifted in and out, speckled with black. He tried to lift his arms, to catch himself - and was met with only heavy, agonizing numbness instead. The pain was back and stronger than ever. Maybe it’d never left at all. Overbalancing, he tumbled into the-
She was there. He never saw her move - but her arms wrapped around him, catching him before he could fall.
As though watching from a thousand miles away, he felt her pull him closer. “Thank you, Owl.” The words slipped past his hearing, pouring straight into his mind and wiping away everything in their path. Things were fading faster, now. The feeling of her arms around his shoulders. The ground beneath his legs. The pain was vanishing too, at least.
All things considered, he’d take it.
He tried to open his mouth, to respond. This was Alexandria, after all. He didn’t need to be told her name to recognize her. She only laughed, though, the sound echoing through his too-empty thoughts. He was moving, lowering from her embrace.
“Rest, now.”
The last thing he felt was the water closing over his face.
- Chapter Forty -
Water.
It trickled around him, filling the air with a gentle susurration.
Daniel opened his eyes.
He tried to, anyway. Every muscle in his body screamed at the slightest motion, as though he’d run a marathon while being whacked with sticks. Worst of all was his head, which hurt worse than every hangover he’d had in his life combined. When he told his eyelids to move, they thought about it, and only begrudgingly obeyed - but sent along the bill for their efforts.
Blue-green light filled his vision.
Daniel lay there for a long moment, just...staring. The ceiling overhead was some sort of white stone, carved with a thousand different whorls and spirals. His brow furrowed gently. He...knew those designs. Why? Where had he-
He lifted his chin, trying to peer around, and the motion set him to rocking. Daniel froze, the fog of sleep vanishing in an instant. There was no mistaking it - he was floating.
A shiver rippled down his spine. Alexandria. She’d set him down in the water. So...where was he now?
When he lifted his gaze again, more slowly, a figure drifted into his sight. A statue. A familiar statue. Daniel let his eyes rest on the stoneworked woman, with hair to her waist and a waterfall pouring from her palm.
“Okay,” he rasped, sucking down one deep breath after another. “O-Okay, Alex. So if...if that’s the statue, then I’m-”
If that was Alexandria’s statue - her avatar, more like - then he was in the basement. The murder-basement filled with books and blood.
More specifically, his thoughts whispered, if you’re in the basement, and that’s Alex’s statue, then that’d mean the water you’re in is that pool.
Daniel froze. He could picture it clearly, as though it’d been just yesterday that he wandered down seeking information on magic. He could see the glowing chamber, with a network of veins in its floor and a statue in the corner. The image of the liquid pouring from her hands into a pool was just as clear as it’d been that day.
A bottomless pool.
Suddenly, floating there seemed like a bad idea. Daniel twitched, then thrashed, his sore limbs protesting every inch of motion. Water splashed around him. The edge. The pool had an edge. He just had to find it, and-
Fighting against the bleary panic saturating his thoughts, Daniel struck out straight ahead. With every awkward paddle and kick, he thrust his head higher. He wasn’t one to be afraid of the unknown. Being the Librarian had a way of getting rid of that. And yet...The notion of him sinking under the eerily-calm waters and vanishing was all too realistic for comfort.
The instant his hand touched stone, he latched on for dear life, dragging the rest of him closer - and then he stopped. His hand was bare, with no glove to hide it. And...He glanced down shivering, to confirm what he already knew. His jacket was gone too, and his mask, and his pants. He was left in a pair of boxers, floating over-
Nope. Daniel pulled hard, a noise caught between a gasp and a grunt bursting from his throat, and hauled himself over the pools’ edge with shaking, trembling arms. For a moment, he thought he might not have enough strength for even that much. He’d simply fall back in, trapped in the waters until he tired and sank.
With a fresh jolt of fear-fueled adrenaline running through his veins, he toppled over the lip, crashing to the stone floor.
There he remained, limbs heavy and breath ragged, as the seconds slipped away.
He could still see Alexandria’s statue there in front of him. Watching. Is this your doing? he whispered, his eyes drifting across her carved face. Did...Did you bring me here?
Well, the only other option was that Olivia and Will had brought him here - in which case, they’d disobeyed his orders, charged into the destroyed section of the Library, carried him away, gained entrance to his room, stripped him of all his clothing, and then lugged him down into the forbidden wing and dumped him in a pond. All before just...walking off.
Somehow, he didn’t think Alexandria would have tolerated half of that. Even if she’d let Olivia and Will strip him, exposing his identity, he couldn’t believe she’d let them into the basement. Not when it contained so much information on magic and mages.
Besides...he could remember the dreamer. And the fires. He could remember it burning through him, igniting the very fabric he wore. No one had removed his jacket, it’d simply burned away. And then-
Daniel glanced down, reflexively, lifting his arms - and exhaled at the sight of his pristine, unbroken skin. He hadn’t actually been burned, then. That was...good.
The longer he wasted down in Alexandria’s chamber, the more his head cleared. And the more his curiosity grew, alongside his worries. When he’d passed out, Alexandria was in crisis. An entire section had been destroyed by a magical storm. And in the middle of all that, he’d been separated from his two guests. He needed to fix that. He needed to get on top of this whole nightmare.
Grimacing, Daniel rolled to his stomach, collecting his strength - and lifted himself off the ground with a groan. When he stood, it was with a wobble, but his legs held. He rested one hand against the wall, feeling his stability returning, and then started to walk.
Before he could pass outside the portal, though, he glanced back to Alexandria’s statue.
“Thanks,” he whispered. “For...For that.”
He didn’t expect a reply, and he wasn’t surprised when none was forthcoming. She’d appeared to him once, now. He wasn’t fooli
sh enough to assume she could pull such a feat a second time.
The cool light pouring off her well followed him out of the room.
The stairs, Daniel discovered, were a process of their own. His legs shrieked the first time he lifted his knee to climb - and there were a great many more steps to follow. He clung to the wall of the staircase with one hand, clutching a lantern in the other. Just one more, he kept telling himself. And every time he took that step, it’d be now another. It didn’t help, not really. But it made him feel better.
It might have been a few minutes or a few hours later, but when he rounded the final corner and saw the backside of a bookshelf blocking his way, he couldn’t help but grin.
Another few shambling steps, a push and a groan, and the hidden door gave way to reveal his room.
Everything was right where it should be, he saw at a glance - his bed, and his books, and...he smiled. A familiar jacket hung from the rack. She’d even put his mask back in its place.
Taking a deep breath and staggering forward, he reached for the jacket.
* * * * *
His door creaked open.
Owl stepped out, trying to look as though he wasn’t in agony. He was pretty sure it wasn’t working. But the contortions necessary to clothe himself had stretched his limbs out, at least, and he could walk without grimacing. Mostly.
Something clattered to the ground nearby. “Owl!” he heard Olivia shriek - and looked up.
She and Will stood around a table, pale and tight-drawn. Her chair. That’s what he’d heard. It’d toppled over behind her, forgotten in her need to stand.
She beamed, though, relief plastered across her face. “O-Owl,” she said again, taking a step away from the table. “Thank god. You- You’re all right. You’re here.”
“What?” Owl whispered. She was supposed to be gone. Her and Will both. “Olivia? Why are you-”
“W-We couldn’t find you,” he heard Olivia say. She was halfway to him by then, her voice wobbling dangerously. “And then, t-the Library wouldn’t let us leave. We w-were stuck. And you were gone, and-
“You were stuck?” Owl whispered, glancing over. Sure enough, iron bars sat over the entrance to the main Library, like a mall that’d been closed down for the night. The main entrance, and the study, and the exit. Both of them had been trapped inside the sitting room, unable to leave.
Something twisted in his gut, filling him with unease dread. Alex? Why would...why did you do that?
Alexandria valued the safety of their guests. It was the rule of the Library. Sure, if he was around to look after them, she got a bit cavalier. But...she’d been damaged to the point she couldn’t even change her hallways for them.
And stuck in that condition, she’d mustered up the strength to lock Olivia and Will inside?
A weight slammed into his front. Owl groaned, stumbling back, but grabbed hold of Olivia before they collapsed. She hung from his neck, her cheek pressed to his chest. “I-I was- I was so worried.”
“Y-Yeah,” he said. His mind was racing, though, struggling to keep up with the thoughts spinning around him.
Her arms tightened about his shoulders, pulling him closer. “Are you hurt? What happened? Did you-”
“I’m fine,” Owl whispered.
“Oh.” Her weight settled against his chest more fully. “Well...good.”
Owl rocked back on his heels, supporting both of them with his exhausted legs. He couldn’t muster up the will to embrace her back. Besides...
By now, the realization that something was horribly, horribly wrong burned in the forefront of the mind.
His pulse quickened when he heard a quiet noise - and looked over to find Will opening the door to his quarters. “You’re leaving?” Owl said, raising his voice a fraction despite the cries of his too-raw throat.
He was leaving - when Owl had just now emerged. When they’d watched the Library burn around them. Why? What could be so important Will would have to return to his room?
Will flinched, his head snapping around. His eyes fixed to Owl’s. “U-Uh,” he stammered. “I just- I thought maybe you’d want to-”
He stopped, then, but his gaze dropped to Olivia. A faint flush entered his cheeks.
The warning bells in Owl’s head were pealing loud and clear, by then. “I’d want to what?” he said.
“Um,” Will said, taking another step backward. He was in the doorway of his room by then, shadow falling across his face.
Olivia’s hands slipped from around his shoulders, tightening against the front of his jacket. “I-I was so convinced you were gone,” she whispered. “That storm. The fire. I-”
She continued, murmuring away her worries into the leather front of his overcoat, but Owl didn’t hear a word she said. The wheels in his head had begun turning, spinning faster and faster as the world started to clear around him.
Olivia, who’d been so attached. To the Library. To him.
Will, who always seemed to be somewhere else. Who always seemed to be conveniently busy with his work when Olivia wanted to drag him away on her adventures.
Alexandria had locked them in. Alexandria was flighty, but not evil. And not stupid.
More than anything, though, it was Olivia herself that emblazoned the truth across his heart. Something in her voice. A bit of reservation, a plastic veneer to the words she was even then murmuring into his chest. And in her eyes. She’d been afraid, when she saw him. But was it really fear for him?
And had it really been love in her eyes, back in that sunny courtyard?
Slowly, painfully, he reached up, taking her hand. For a single, hopeful instant, her fingers tightened about his.
And then he pushed her away, and she stiffened. Her eyes darkened, falling into shadow. “Owl?” she said, in that same too-perfect voice.
Not this time.
He stared down at her - at Olivia, the woman he’d come to have more than a little affection for. Her dark eyes searched his, filled with confusion.
Some part of him cried to stop grabbing at straws, to stop poking holes in the good things he’d found. It wasn’t too late. He could pull her back into his arms, and it’d be like nothing had changed.
But it had. And he couldn’t. And so his hands stayed about hers, holding her at arm’s length.
“Owl, what’s wrong?” she said, trying to push closer. When he didn’t release her, she stopped - and there it was again. That odd, lidded look to her eyes. He knew that look all too well.
He wore a mask every day, after all.
“Why would Alexandria lock you in?” he said, his voice unreadable.
She stiffened, her eyes going wide. “W-What?”
“It’s a simple question. What have you done, that she didn’t want you to leave while I was away?”
Slowly, Olivia shook her head. “Owl, I-”
He wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t wrong, damn it, however much the truth hurt. And if they’d done anything, either of them, then it’d have to be while he wasn’t looking. While he was occupied.
He could guess when it’d happened, of course.
“How much of it was a lie?” Owl whispered. “How much of this has been a game to you two?”
Behind her, still framed in the doorway, Will pressed a hand to his face.
“N-No,” Olivia said, shaking her head. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Owl, but-”
“Don’t you dare look me in the face and lie to me.” His words lashed out like a whip-crack. Olivia went silent.
The pieces were still lining up in his mind - and the more he thought about it, the more he looked at it, the more he knew how true it was. Her play. It’d been so abrupt. Why had he gone along with it? Why hadn’t he seen her as she was?
Because you were lonely, his thoughts crooned. You’re just a sad, lonely man, alone in your library, and so when she batted her eyelashes at you, you lay back and-
Owl jerked his head to the side, hissing. “If you really give even a single shit about
me, Olivia, then don’t you dare lie,” he said.
From the corner of his eye, he saw her flinch. “I...I’m not,” she said, more softly. “I meant what I said. I...I do like you. I do think you’re a good man. I wasn’t-”
“Was it Indira?” Olivia jumped again, and her whole expression went...blank. Empty. Owl smiled mirthlessly. “You were willing to go so far for her approval, weren’t you? Sleeping with the Librarian would have been a hell of a trophy to your name. She’d have liked having an in, wouldn’t she?”
“It’s not like that,” Olivia whispered. “Owl, I swear, I-” She tugged her arm against his grip, and when he let go, she stepped back. “I would’ve...I wasn’t lying.”
“But she did, didn’t she,” Owl said, glaring at her. “She wanted this.”
Olivia opened her mouth, but faltered - and for an instant, her eyes flickered to meet Will’s. Owl turned with her, his anger reigniting in an instant. “And you.”
Will stumbled back into his room, clutching at the frame. “L-Librarian, I’m not- I wouldn’t-”
“You were in on it too, weren’t you?” Owl snapped, pushing Olivia aside as he lurched forward. “Olivia knew just where you were when the explosions started. What were you doing? What did you do, while my back was turned?” Fires still burned across his mind’s eye. “Did you have a hand in- in that?”
“N-No,” Will said, and he started shaking his head furiously. “That’s not- I didn’t have anything to do with-”
“Owl, no,” Olivia said, hurling herself up alongside him again. “Will didn’t- We’d never attack the Library. That wasn’t us. I swear.”
“But you were so sure.” Owl shook his head once, decisively. “You expect me to fall for that? Again?”
Olivia’s hands grasped at his arm, trying to pull him back. “Please,” he heard her say, her voice trembling. “H-He didn’t do anything. I just-” Her fingers gripped him more tightly. “I t-thought...I thought some privacy would be...nice. That’s all.”
Owl yanked his arm back, pulling free of her arms. “As if I’d believe a liar,” he hissed.
