by Helen Harper
Thinking of my old friend reminded me of my purpose so, taking in Mary’s words, I reluctantly left the books alone and went in search of Slim, the librarian. I wandered in and out of the aisles, occasionally glancing upwards to admire the windows and the way they distributed the light around the entire floor. It took quite some time to cover the ground floor, by which time I’d determined that it was empty. Finding it hard to believe that there weren’t more students here making use of such a marvellous space and range of books, I headed for the staircase and climbed upwards. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming behind my eyes, but my surroundings allowed me to ignore it as little more than a nuisance. Instead I let myself soak up the view of thousands upon thousands of books that were laid out on the floor that was now below me.
As I’d surmised from my stunned view around as I’d entered, the next floor showcased more shelves and more books. Behind me were a range of several closed doors, no doubt small carrels for private and quiet study. Ahead of me, the mezzanine seemed to stretch backwards for miles so I headed in that direction, moving deeper in.
“Hello?” I attempted calling out. “Miss Slim?” My voice echoed back towards me, hinting at the absence of any other being. I thought for a moment, then called out again, “Mr. Slim?”
Nothing. I shrugged and kept moving forward. Gender distinctions notwithstanding, Mary had been sure that the librarian would be here, so I probably just had to look a little further. The area I was moving into was considerably less well lighted than everywhere else, probably because the stacks of shelves on this level were so tall that they were starting to block out the sunlight streaming in from the windows. The hackles on my skin were starting raise, for no apparent reason, and I suddenly shivered. Telling myself that it was just the slight drop in temperature now that I was no longer bathed in the warm sun, I continued on to a small door that I noticed at the back of the room. Set into the wall on its own, as it was, I reckoned that this was not just another study carrel, but either a cupboard or a doorway to another part of the vast library. I reached out to twist the doorknob to check when a sharp voice with an oddly Irish sounding lilt from behind interrupted me.
“What the feck do you think you’re doing?”
I blinked and began to turn around. Finally. “I’m looking for…,” My voice died away as I took in whom I was addressing.
In front of me, hovering in the air at about eye level, was what I could only describe as a chubby purple gargoyle. But this creature was most definitely not made of stone or affixed to some ancient building. Small wings attached to its back were fluttering in the air. It seemed impossible that they would be capable of supporting the creature’s weight in flight, and yet that’s exactly what was happening. A pair of dark flashing eyes were narrowed at me from under a set of bushy white eyebrows that curled out further than should really be allowed. The creature placed its hands on its hips, creating such a comical image that it was impossible not to suddenly smirk.
“What the feck is so funny?”
I wiped the grin off my face with a struggle. “Er…nothing. Sorry.” I licked my lips and composed myself. “Are you…” I glanced downwards from the creature’s face for a moment, feeling my cheeks warm ever so slightly. Definitely not a Miss Slim, then. “…Mr. Slim?”
The small creature growled at me. “Of fecking course, I am. You’ll be that fecking hairless trouble-maker then, I suppose? This area is completely out of bounds to you. You are only allowed on the ground floor.” He fixed me with a beady eyed glare as if daring me to argue. “Dean’s orders.”
“I was looking for you,” I hastily protested, most definitely not wanting to create yet another enemy for myself. I may have been somewhat tardy with that wish, however, because Slim wheeled round in the air with a large snort and flapped off back down towards the staircase, clearly expecting me to follow him.
I sighed and followed the little creature as he continued to snort and mutter to himself. I only caught a few snatches of words, but the general gist appeared to be along the lines of ‘why the feck had he been lumbered with educating a great oaf like me’. I supposed that at least I’d finally met someone today, outside of Mary, who wasn’t terrified of getting on my bad side.
When we got back down to the ground floor, he led me to a desk area in one of the corners. There was a pile of about ten books, lying next to a pad and a pencil. Slim jerked his head towards them.
“There are your fecking books. Read them. Here. Then there’s a test.” He brushed some imaginary dust off his shoulder with a clawed hand. “Don’t touch anything else. You are not permitted to take any books out of this room. And don’t fecking bother me.” He sniffed and then fluttered off until I lost him in among some of the stacks.
I turned and looked down at the books, feeling a twist of regret that I apparently wasn’t to be given more freedom to explore the library in more depth. Still, reading a few books had to be easier than staring at a stone for two hours or trying to summon a sprite. I pulled out the chair and sat heavily down on it, picking up the pencil and running my hand over my naked skull. No problem.
*
Several hours later, my brain was swimming. The language in the books was virtually archaic. Facts and figures merged together into dizzying nonsense, and my head was pounding. I’d been vaguely aware at different points of other people entering and leaving the library, but they’d all given me a wide berth. I supposed that I should be thankful for being able to have uninterrupted peace and quiet in order to study. I pushed the chair back and was about to stand up, when Slim appeared, hovering at my shoulder.
“Are you ready for the fecking test?”
The pain in my head protested and intensified at the idea of having to continue to think and focus, but I nodded dumbly and reached behind my neck to massage it. The little creature remained expressionless, and instead placed a sheet of paper in front of me that he’d magicked from seemingly nowhere. He also picked up the pile of books, raising a single bushy eyebrow at me as he did so. I was vaguely impressed that he managed to balance the pile of books in one hand, and vaguely insulted that he thought that I’d cheat and had to whisk them away from me. I had to try hard not to bite out an annoyed comment and instead tucked the chair back in, curling my ankles around the legs. I rubbed my forehead and began.
All the books had been incredibly dry documents detailing long histories and laws relating the ridiculously complicated mage society. I now knew more about the state of legal affairs within the wizard system than I’d ever wanted to. Fortunately for myself, I’d had the shifter Way Directives hammered into me from the moment I’d arrived in Cornwall from a young age so I was pretty confident that I could absorb ridiculous rules and regulations without too much bother. The best thing was that there were remarkable similarities between the mages’ system and the shifters’ one. Other than some different terminology relating to specific magic details, the rules could virtually have been written by the same person. Once I started answering the questions, I realised that I was able to block out the pain in my head and fly through the answers.
When I’d finally finished, I put down my pencil and stood up. Looking around, I could see no sign of the little gargoyle. I was tempted for a moment just to leave my answer sheet where it was and let him pick it up when he deigned to reappear from behind whichever pile of books he happened to be hovering next to at this point in time, but I was cognizant enough to recognise that it was possible that if some other mage like Thomas, who was keen for me to fail, came across it, then it would mysteriously disappear into the ether. There was no other choice but to find Slim and put it into his purple paws in person.
The light in library had a different hue now to when I’d arrived, casting softer dapples across the floor and shelves. The growl in my stomach attested equally to the fact that I’d been here for some time, and I started to wonder what time it was and whether I was too late for lunch. There were a few mage-ly looking figures hovering in
between some of the stacks, but I didn’t bother asking them for help in locating Slim. I had a pretty good idea by now how helpful I could expect them to be. Instead, I continued to wander up the vast corridor, peeking left and right as I went and breathing in the familiar and comforting smell of old books. My headache had returned with a vengeance now and seemed to be getting worse, throbbing more and more the further into the annals of the library that I went.
I was starting to feel the familiar heat of irritation uncoil itself in my veins when a title crammed tightly onto one of the shelves to the left of me caught my eye. My eyebrows raised in surprise, and I reached over to pull it out. I’d been right. This edition was older than the one I’d used in John’s office all those months ago but it was definitely the same Fae-Human dictionary that I’d used to break the password and hack into his computer. Almost unconsciously, my fingers turned through the pages until I found the entry for Herensuge – the Basque definition for dragon. My chest tightened when I found it, and again I couldn’t help wondering just how much John had really known about my heritage and why he’d never told me. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. I’d never know the truth so it was pointless wondering. Snapping the dictionary closed, I leaned back to the shelf to attempt to slide it back. It was a tight fit and I was struggling to squeeze it in when someone rudely pushed past me, jolting my body against the rows of books. I inadvertently lost my balance and half tumbled to my knees, cursing. Fucking mages. At least shifters had some semblance of manners. Even Anton wouldn’t have been so crude as to get a kick out of a move like that.
I would have gone after the offending mage, promises to the Arch-Mage be damned, but the throbbing in my skull had transformed itself into a searing pain that was making it hard to think straight. The idea that maybe I’d incurred some kind of serious injury at some point, and now had a blood clot or brain tumour invading my body flitted through my mind with the unerring whisper of every hypochondriac’s worst nightmare. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I tried to will away the pain then, when that didn’t work, I pushed my palms against the uneven surfaces of the books to try and bring myself back up to my feet. And that was when I felt it.
It was a soft tingle against my fingertips, as if one of the books was almost vibrating. I’d felt that half-buzz before. I half opened one eye and squinted towards where the sensation was coming from. My jaw tightened when I realised that I wasn’t mistaken. Without thinking further, I reached over and pulled out a dusty looking book, the now forgotten Human-Fae dictionary dangling half off the shelf above me where I’d been trying to push it back in. I focused instead on the new tome in my hands, that was continuing to hum against my skin, and moved down and sat on the floor, carefully turning over the first page. The familiarity of the opening image floored me: a stunningly beautiful landscape with undulating emerald green hills in the background, a shining blue river, and what appeared to be a pomegranate tree. I turned the next page, but I knew what I would see before I got there. It was a Fae rune, singly screaming itself at me from the pristine white page. This was exactly the same book that I’d come across in the Clava bookshop, the one that had freaked me out so much and made me really doubt what the old woman had been up to.
I tried to rationalise it to myself. I’d been in a bookshop. What else would you find in a bookshop other than books? Now I was in a library. Hello! And it was a vast library stocked with hundreds of thousands of titles no less. Of course there would be copies of the same book. But in such a large library was it really credible that I’d come across such an unusual and rare book without even looking? I moved my hand up to my scalp to twist my fingers thoughtfully through the hair that I no longer had, and then stopped abruptly in midair and brought my fingers to my nose instead, sniffing. Oh God. There was a definite whiff of stale bonfire clinging to them. I raised the book itself up to my face and sniffed again, even more cautiously this time. The smell was even stronger. As if the book had been in a fire and the pages had been burnt. I flicked quickly through the rest of it, not looking to see what was inscribed within but instead hunting for any signs of damage. There were none.
I rocked back. Okay, so it could be a coincidence that I’d come across the same book. Coincidences happen all the time; in fact it would be a coincidence if there were no coincidences (I struggled mentally with that one although I think I got it). But could it really be a coincidence that a copy of the book that I last saw burning in the debris of Mrs. Alcoon’s shop now turned up here with the definite and distinctive odour of burnt paper? I wasn’t completely stupid. Something was going on here. I glanced down at my blue robes and realised that they would actually have some use after all. Taking a quick glance around to make sure that no-one was within eye shot, I hiked up the robes and shoved the book under one of my arms. The robes would drape over my body well enough to conceal its shape and I’d be able to sneak it out of the library and examine it in more detail later. Assuming I didn’t have to move my arms very much of course, that was. Another thought struck me, and I reached up and scooped out the dictionary that was still half hanging off the shelf above me and did the same, only this time shoving it under my other armpit. Hopefully I wouldn’t sweat too much into the books.
I stood up and smoothed the blue material down, trying to crane my neck around my body to see if the corners of the books were suspiciously poking out. They seemed to be hidden well enough from what I could judge. Carefully squatting down so as not to disturb their positions, I grabbed my test answer sheet from the floor where it had fallen when I had initially been shoved against the shelves. I tried not to think about whether that was a coincidence or not as well, and instead stiffly got myself back to standing position and walked back out into the main area of the library, keeping my arms firmly at my sides to hold the books in place. I realised that the headache that had been bothering me so very much had now completely vanished. It must have been psychosomatic, I told myself. If not, then it had been a tension headache from the stress of having to take the stupid test in the first place. It wasn’t that the book itself had given me the pain to alert me to its presence. No. That would be impossible because it was an inert object. Not alive. Nor could it have been reincarnated from a fire on the other side of the country. Definitely not.
“Now what the feck are you doing?” came a familiarly gruff voice from behind me.
I turned slowly, attempting to look natural. “I was looking for you. Here,” I said, uncomfortably bending my elbow at the joint in order to pass over my answer sheet to the librarian, without the books dropping from their precarious position under my robes, “these are my answers. I think you’ll find they’re all in order.”
Slim snatched them from me and scanned down the sheet, huffing as he did so. He pursed his lips. “Very well. I suppose you’ve passed.” He looked up from the sheet and stared at me, the wings at his back continuing to flap. “Can’t say I think much of your fecking penmanship though.”
I inclined my head slightly and muttered that I would work on it. The floating gargoyle stared at me for a moment, and I could feel myself starting to sweat uncomfortably. Then he blinked with what seemed to be some kind of dismissal and turned, flapping off in the other direction.
I exhaled slowly. I might just have made it. Making an odd shuffling turn that would have looked bizarre to anyone who was watching, I maneuvered myself towards the library doors and stiffly walked out.
Chapter Five
I felt considerably more confident once I’d left the library and began the hike back to my little attic garret. Both books were tight under my arms and, although I had to take care to grip them tightly, I passed several mages who didn’t seem to notice anything peculiar. Of course, they all veered considerably far out of my way when they saw me coming and averted their eyes to avoid meeting my gaze, and I knew that once I’d passed them they were all staring at me in wide-eyed fascination, safe in the knowledge that I wouldn’t then be able to catch their eyes. So far, however, no-
one was shouting anything about the crazy bitch who wasn’t really a mage trying to steal things and hide them about her person though.
I was particularly glad that the thumping headache was showing no signs of returning, despite my muffled alarm that it really had been caused by the Fae book alerting me to its presence. I kept whispering in my head that I was being ridiculous, but I didn’t really manage to fully convince myself. However, I did feel a sense of churning nausea that resembled an odd sensation of oily seasickness at the thought that my thievery would be discovered. I was pretty sure that I’d pushed the Ministry of Mages to the limits of its patience with me. I didn’t have much of an idea about what they would do if all this training stuff didn’t work out, and truthfully I didn’t really care all that much about what happened to me. Other than Mrs. Alcoon, there was no-one anymore who depended on my existence or who would probably even miss me that much if I was gone. Imagining a tiny violin playing in my ear, I scowled. I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself, I really wasn’t. I was just facing reality. Solus was a Fae, therefore notoriously fickle, and would forget me in a heartbeat. Alex would probably be thrilled that he’d no longer be held accountable for my actions. Betsy and Tom had each other and would do fine while Julia was far too capable on her own, even crippled as she was, to need me underfoot causing the problems that I repeatedly seemed to involve myself in. And Corrigan…well, I didn’t really know what he’d think. Regardless of all of them though, if I didn’t make it through this training then Mrs. Alcoon was finished. That was completely unacceptable. Therefore, it was imperative that I kept my nose clean and didn’t do anything else stupid. Like getting caught sneaking books out of the library.
