The Librarian's Treasure

by Katherine H Brown

  “I see you’re back.”

  “As promised.” Drake nodded.

  Raegan stood to retie the trash bag as the kitten nuzzled against her ankle.

  Drake stepped over and took the bag. “Here. I’ve got that. You seem to have your hands full.” He quickly tied the bag and heaved it overhead into the open dumpster.

  “Thanks.” Raegan picked up the tiny kitten who promptly batted at a loose curl. “Has this little girl been out here when you brought out the trash before?” She gave him an accusatory look.

  Drake held up his hands. “Never seen her before.” He didn’t need starving animals added to his list of sins before he even got to come clean to Raegan about his true purpose in being there.

  Raegan eyed him suspiciously as if she were trying to decide if he was responsible for the pitiful creature’s hungry state. Then she strode right past him, cuddling the kitten all the way into the library.

  Drake shook his head and followed after her. First books, then a cat. It seemed he simply couldn’t compete for Raegan Sheridan’s attention.

  ***

  Raegan heard Drake ascending the spiral staircase, and the rhythmic sounding of his footsteps filled her with dread. She had left the door ajar, and he entered after a small, perfunctory knock.

  As Drake closed the door behind him, Raegan’s stomach knotted even tighter. After finally admitting to herself that she had been missing him, she had expected to be happy and lighthearted when he returned. The look on his face and his somber mood seemed to echo every fear her heart had of getting close to people. Drake had bad news. She could feel it to her bones.

  “Can we talk?”

  Those three ominous words. For a moment, Raegan considered saying no. After all, it had been phrased as a question. Instead, she gathered her courage and her furry new friend and went to sit behind her desk. She needed every shield she could have.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  As he sat down, Drake’s easy smile and small jokes were noticeably absent. Raegan watched as he seemed to search for the words he wanted to use, rubbing his hands down the back of his neck. At last, he raised his eyes to meet her gaze, and she braced herself. Here it comes, she thought. He’s leaving.

  “I lied to you about why I came here.”

  Raegan frowned. She knew that. She’d caught him in the lie about the part-time job right away.

  As if reading her mind, or perhaps she didn’t have the best poker face, Drake held up a hand. What he said next went beyond her wildest expectations.

  “I’m not talking about the job. I was sent here specifically to find you.”

  Raegan balked. “What do you mean? Sent by who? From where?” The kitten meowed and scratched her, causing Raegan to loosen her accidental squeeze on the poor thing. She found herself eyeing the desk and being disappointed that the most dangerous thing within her reach was a paperweight. “If you hurt me, I swear Lorcan will rip you into pieces and feed you to Nessa here.” She hugged the kitten closer.

  “Nessa?” Drake paused. “Like the Loch Ness Monster?”

  Raegan glared.

  “Right. Not important.”

  She watched as Drake seemed to gather his thoughts. When he spoke again, he had adopted a soft, gentle tone. He told her everything: starting with his father dying, the depression he fell into with the heavy drinking, leaving his job with the Irish police, or Garda as they were called, all of the debts he couldn’t pay, how—on the brink of losing his father’s pub—four diminutive men had shown up and offered him money to leave Ireland and travel to England to find the girl fated to save their nearby village, only afterwards introducing themselves as the League of Leprechauns.

  The more Drake talked, the less reassurance she felt. He sounded like a crazy person.

  “Are you insane?” Raegan asked when it became apparent his tale was over. “Or is this some elaborate joke? I hope it’s a joke, but you should know that I don’t think it is very funny.” Her thoughts raced as fast as her heart. Sent there to find her? Who would be looking for her? She had no family. Drake had to be making it up. Raegan couldn’t for the life of her figure out why he would, though, and that scared her.

  “I’m sorry. It isn’t a joke.” Drake leaned forward earnestly. “I need to go back to Ireland. Soon. And the League wants me to convince you to come, too. They say it is time for you to come home.”

  “No. I don’t believe you.” Nessa squirmed in her arms, and Raegan let the poor kitten down. She felt alone, vulnerable, as soon as the warm and cuddly animal left her lap. “I don’t know these men. I’ve never been to this village…this…what did you say it was called?”

  “Kivarleigh.”

  “Never even heard of it.” Raegan hugged her arms across her chest. “Why should I believe a word that you’re saying?”

  Drake slapped his forehead. “I forgot. One of the men told me to give you this medallion when I told you that it was time to come home.” He fished in his pocket, retrieving the heavy metal object. “Said it belonged to your father.” Laying the medallion on the desk, Drake leaned back to give Raegan space, but she didn’t notice.

  Her eyes widened, and Raegan found herself staring at a design that took her breath away. She hadn’t seen it in years, almost thirteen. She lifted the medallion, the metal tingling under her fingertips.

  “It looked familiar to me,” Drake was saying. “Like I’ve seen it somewhere. Have you?”

  “What?” Raegan murmured, barely hearing him.

  Drake leaned forward again. “I said, have you seen it before?”

  Raegan nodded, her thumb lovingly tracing the rainbow over the meadow. “My dad, he had this exact design tattooed on his shoulder. I’d forgotten.”

  10.

  R aegan sat unmoving in her office the rest of the morning, lost in her thoughts. Evie tried to coax her out for lunch with no luck. As she traced her fingers around and around the medallion, she allowed her memories, and her tears, to flow freely.

  In her mind, she was a child again. She felt her dad’s hands ruffling her hair. Saw his wide smile as she brought him pictures that she had colored mimicking the creatures he had carved into the doors of the library. Felt the pride and confusion that always welled up when he told her how proud her mother would have been of her, always with such sadness. She remembered tracing the tattoo on his shoulder, much like she traced the medallion in front of her.

  “What is it?” young Raegan asked.

  “Ach.” Her dad pulled her into his lap. “It’s a special mark of my family.”

  “But I don’t have one.” She had pouted.

  “Only the men get them.”

  “Hmmph! That’s not fair.”

  “Aye, child. Much unfairness this life holds.”

  Raegan remembered coloring the symbol on her legs and coming back to show her dad. He had made her scrub it off, telling her not to draw it anymore. He said the mark was their secret.

  How long it had been since she had remembered those things! And yet, there she was, face to face with a piece of her past, if Drake was to be believed. Were those men he talked about, the League, were they her dad’s family? Her family? She always thought there was no one.

  ***

  “Raegan!” Drake pounded on the door. The stubborn woman had locked herself in. She wouldn’t even budge for Evie after the poor woman tramped all the way up that infernal spiral staircase. “Rae! Raegan Sheridan, don’t make me go get Lorcan to break down these beautiful doors.”

  He waited. After a minute, scuffling noises sounded. A chair scooting back. Light footsteps. Drake backed up a step from the door. As Raegan opened it, he noted her puffy eyes, red cheeks, and a glare that was becoming all-too-familiar.

  “What else could you possibly need to say to me?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Raegan frowned. “That’s it?”

  “No.” Drake shook his head. “But I want you to know that I am sorry. The reason I’m he
re is because I thought you’d want to know that I finally remembered where I saw the picture from the medallion before.”

  “Where?”

  “Come on, I’ll show you.” Drake descended the first two steps of the winding staircase, giving Raegan room to make the decision for herself.

  Annoyance and curiosity warred in her eyes. She seemed to make up her mind as she set her mouth in a determined line and stepped out, shutting the door behind her. Drake led the way down, breathing a sigh of relief. It was progress. Slow, painful progress. He hoped he could earn her trust back before he left, whether she went to Ireland on the League’s grand errand or not.

  Raegan trudged grudgingly after him, all the way to the storage room. Evie, delighted at seeing he had succeeded in bringing her out of the office, brought up the rear of the procession, bearing a plate of snickerdoodle cookies.

  After hugging her friend and eating a cookie, Raegan stamped impatiently. “Well? I don’t see anything. Was there a medallion like this one on the shelf? Or was this another lie to get me to come downstairs?”

  “Not a lie.” Drake continued moving boxes around. “I know it was back here somewhere.” He cleared the top two rows of one tall, metal shelf, then tested its weight. After he removed a few more things, he grabbed the legs and scooted the shelf far enough from the wall that one or two people could squeeze behind it. He stooped and disappeared from their sight for a moment.

  “Aha! Over here.” Drake stepped out of the way and allowed Raegan behind the shelf. “About waist level, there seems to be more carving like your dad did on all of the doors. Only, in the center is a little inset circle, and the medallion scene is there, too.”

  “It’s hard to see.” Raegan ran her hands down the wall. “Do you have a flashlight?”

  Evie set the plate of cookies down and collected a flashlight from a cabinet by the door. She handed it to Drake, who held it pointed toward the carvings for Raegan.

  “Odd.” Raegan knelt down on the floor, bringing the small scene to eye level. It was small, not nearly as grand as the doors to the entrance or even her office. Still, she would know her dad’s handiwork anywhere. She felt along the wall, her hands tingling as they rested on the section that matched the medallion and her dad’s tattoo. “It’s almost as if a piece is missing. I wonder.” She leaned closer to the wall.

  Drake craned his neck, curious. Evie shuffled closer, nearly bumping into him. The two watched as Raegan inserted the medallion into the circle of the wall.

  “How strange,” she muttered. “It fits perfectly.”

  “What do you think it means?” Evie asked.

  “I don’t know.” Raegan stood, leveraging one hand against the wall.

  As she did so, she accidentally pushed the medallion further into the wall. A click sounded. Soft whirring noises began, slowly.

  Before their eyes, the wall began to swing, opening away from the storage room.

  11.

  R aegan stared in wonder as the wall slowed to a stop, leaving an opening just large enough to walk through. Inky blackness stared back at her. “Pass me the flashlight,” she said urgently.

  “Raegan, you be careful. You don’t know what’s back there.” Evie started in on a long lecture about sticking one’s nose in bad places, creepy moving walls, broken necks on rickety stairs, a whole plethora of superstitions and worries jumbled together.

  But Raegan wasn’t listening.

  She heard Drake’s comment about letting him go first, to which she only snorted. It was her library, after all.

  Flashlight securely in hand, Raegan shone it first at the floor to assure herself of safe footing. Then, as she walked forward, she shone it around and gasped. “A secret room! A whole secret room of the library.”

  “Watch out for rotten floorboards!” Evie called out. “And traps. Don’t you always read about booby-traps in secret places?”

  Drake didn’t waste time with words. Instead, Raegan felt him step inside behind her to see for himself what the room held.

  “Isn’t it magnificent?” Raegan beamed the flashlight along all of the walls. She jumped as Drake reached past her and then heard a small click as he found the light switch. The room lit up as bright as any other.

  “More books?”

  Raegan frowned. “You don’t have to sound so disappointed.”

  “Well, you didn’t have to sound so excited and get a guy’s hopes up for a safe filled with cash or something.”

  “What is it?” Evie yelled from her safe place in the middle of the storage room.

  Raegan poked her head back out of the secret entrance. “Come and see.” She held out a hand to her friend. “I promise, nothing in here will bite you.”

  Evie’s gasp of appreciation as she marveled at the shelves upon shelves of books more than made up for Drake’s unenthusiastic response. “Gracious! Where did all of these come from?”

  Drake moved about the room, scanning the shelves. “All over the world, from what I can tell.” He thumbed a volume in front of him. “Several languages, too.”

  “Evie, would you go lock the doors and put out the closed sign?” Raegan set the flashlight down and walked across the stone floor to join Drake. So immersed were they in the shelves of books that Raegan didn’t see Evie return and strike off in her own direction until it was too late. “Watch out!”

  Evie’s foot tangled in a rope sticking out from under a small desk, and she fell on her bottom with a thud.

  Rushing to her side, Raegan grabbed Evie’s hands. “Are you alright? Do you need me to get a doctor?”

  “I’m old, but I’m not that old that I need to be fussed over for a little tumble. Help me up.” She dusted off, muttering and shaking her head. “Booby-traps, I told you. You wouldn’t believe me.”

  Drake toed the rope with his boot. Nothing happened. “I think this is a case of messiness more than nefariousness.” He winked, bending to pick up the rope, but as he pulled, a scraping sounded.

  Evie hightailed it out of the room, screaming, as fast as her short legs would carry her.

  Raegan, stifling a laugh, watched as the rope came out from the table, the other end tied around a small black box with rounded corners. Drake lifted it up for her inspection, and upon a closer look, she saw that it wasn’t truly black but rather a very deep brown. By all appearances, the box was made from a portion of hollowed-out old tree trunk. Carved into the center of the lid was a pot of gold. When Raegan pressed the pot of gold, the lid sprung open, revealing a velvet pouch of dark emerald green.

  “Is this your dad’s, too?” Drake asked.

  Raegan shrugged. “It must be, but I’ve never seen it before. I’ve never seen any of this before.”

  Evie poked her head around the doorway. “Is it safe?”

  Drake motioned her in. “Come see. Raegan was about to open up another hidden treasure.”

  That piqued Evie’s interest enough that she hurried back to their sides. Raegan placed the box on the table and pulled out the velvet pouch. Slowly, she pulled the drawstring opening wider and slipped her hand inside.

  Beside her, Evie’s breath caught. “Well? What is it?”

  Raegan saw Drake struggle to contain a laugh at the excitable older woman.

  She pulled the contents from the bag and spread them on the table. Raegan picked up a worn compass tied on a leather chord like a necklace. Engraved on the back was part of an Irish blessing addressed to her.

  Rae, may the road rise up to meet you, the wind be always at your back, and may the sun shine warm upon your face, my lovely.

  “Beautiful.” Evie swiped at a stray tear.

  Raegan slipped the leather chord over her head, tucking the compass near her heart, before lifting the next item. It was a beautiful shamrock hair comb inlaid with four small emeralds that sparkled brilliantly as they caught the light. As she turned it over, one of the two prongs separated from the comb, and she saw that it was a miniature dagger.

  Evie fluttered a hand
over her heart, eyes wide, while Drake gave a low whistle. “Remind me to never underestimate the power of women dressing up again.”

  “There’s just one more thing.” Raegan unfolded the last item from the pouch, a worn and creased sheaf of papers. She scanned the first page. “Hold on. This can’t be right.”

  “What is it?” Drake asked.

  Evie shuffled from one foot to the other. “Is it a treasure map? Are there more secret rooms?” Having recovered from her fright, she was returning to her usual fanciful self.

  “It’s a deed.”

  “To the library?” Drake asked.

  Raegan dragged her gaze from the papers. “No. To a castle. In Ireland.”

  Her announcement was met with shocked silence.

  “It can’t be right, though. I mean, I can’t own a castle in Ireland. How ridiculous does that sound?” Raegan flipped through the sheaf of papers as if looking for a big sign to spring forth and say gotcha.

  “Oh! My goodness! You have a secret room and a secret castle? I’ve got to sit down.” Evie sagged onto an armchair in the corner.

  Drake stayed quiet until finally Raegan couldn’t stand it anymore. “Well, you’ve nothing to say? Did you know about all of this?”

  “Not a thing,” Drake denied. “I only know what I told you upstairs.”

  Raegan frowned, studying him. If only she knew how to tell if he were lying or not. Unfortunately, her radar for that sort of thing was nonexistent. She simply didn’t interact with people enough. Should she trust him?

  Drake, seeming to sense her hesitation, rubbed the back of his neck. “The only other thing is, well,” he glanced at Evie and lowered his voice, “I thought it was odd, but the League did refer to you as a princess quite a lot.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “No.” Raegan tossed the papers down. “No. I am not a princess. This is not funny. I don’t know what is going on, but I have got to get out of here.” With that, she jabbed the shamrock comb into her bun and strode out of the room.