The Librarian: A Remnants of Magic Novel (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 2)

by Casey White

  “Daniel?” he heard Leon say. His voice was small, distant.

  “I couldn’t bear something happening to you,” Daniel whispered. “Bad enough Olivia got dragged down with me. You’re still free. Go. Get out while you can, before-”

  “But then you’ll-”

  “It’s just how things are.”

  Leon rocked back on his heels, his eyes going round. “W-What? What are you…” His face hardened. “No. I’m not giving up here, and neither are you.”

  “Leon, just-”

  “I’m not,” he snapped. “Come on. If we stop fighting here, they win. You’ll-”

  “I know what’ll happen,” Daniel said. His fists balled up at his sides. “I don’t want to lose. But-”

  “But you’ll roll over and be a doormat for them?” Leon said. His eyes flashed dangerously. “You’ll just let them walk all over you again? Damn it, Daniel, grow a damn spine and-”

  “And what?” Daniel cried. He stumbled back, pushing away from Leon. “What should I do, Leon? What? I can’t do anything. None of it matters. I’m stuck in here, and they’re out there, and it doesn’t matter how much I plan. When I wake up, I’ll be right there in the same shitty spot.”

  Leon shook his head, blond hair flying. “You don’t know until you try. What if-”

  “Yes,” Daniel snapped. “I do know, Leon. This is how it goes.”

  He threw a hand out to the side, fingers clenched. His eyes burned.

  “It doesn’t matter what I do,” he spat. “It doesn’t matter what I try. It’s never mattered. I’m just stuck here, caught between this fucking library and who-the-fuck ever, and if I pound my fists and stomp my feet, all I’m going to get is tired. So, what? In a few days, or weeks, or months, I’ll wake up out there again?”

  A hollow laugh burst from his throat. “And then what? They’ll still be mages, and I’m not. They’ll still have weapons, and I don’t. You’re one man. You can’t change reality.”

  “Two, with James,” Leon mumbled.

  “It’s not enough!” Daniel cried. “Why the hell do you even care? Why are you still here? They’ll put a bullet through your head before you make it halfway to me, and the only thing that’ll come of the attempt is I get to watch you die.”

  Leon flinched. His eyes twitched, then tightened. “Daniel,” he whispered. “That’s not...there’s got to be a way to do something. I can’t just let you-”

  “You’re not the damn hero here,” Daniel said. “Stop meddling. Stop sticking yourself into the middle of things before you get hurt.”

  Leon flinched away, recoiling as if he’d been struck. “But-”

  “Just stop,” Daniel said. He took another step back. Blood rushed through his ears, deafening. He smiled, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “It’s okay. There’s never been a way out.”

  The winds shrieked. The walls groaned around them. The few candles left burning flickered, all but blowing out.

  And still, Leon just...stared. Mute. The hurt in his eyes shone clearer than any words.

  Daniel backed away. Something pressed against his spine, through the leather of his coat. A doorknob. His hands found it, somehow.

  “It wouldn’t change anything,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Nothing ever changes.”

  And then he turned, pushing the door open, and broke into a shambling run.

  He didn’t know what he expected. A final attempt, maybe, or a parting cry from Leon.

  Only silence followed on his heels as he stumbled deeper into the Library.

  - Chapter Thirty -

  Within minutes, the walls around Daniel changed, indelibly marking Alexandria’s shift as he put distance between himself and Leon. He stumbled on. By now, the ache of his leg was a constant companion. The stiffness and weight of it was already becoming second nature.

  “Great,” he whispered. “Another habit for me to break later.”

  The murmur fell flat, though, swallowed by the leather and parchment that pressed in on either side. The once-towering hallway squeezed in closer and closer, all but devouring him with tight, low-hanging beams and timbers lined with books.

  He didn’t know where he was going, anymore. He hadn’t for a while, but now at least he knew it didn’t matter. He was just...waiting. That was all. For something to happen. For Rickard’s team to pluck him back out of Alexandria and into the outside world. For Leon to leave.

  Lumbering through a doorway, his shoulders nearly touching the books on either side, Daniel groaned. Another doorway sat ahead of him, dark wood blocking his path. He trudged toward it, slowly but steadily.

  More than anything, he just wanted to clear his head. There were too many moving parts here. Seeing Leon had upset the delicate balance he’d built. Maybe, when he was gone, he could find that calm again. He could find some peace with things.

  Pushing open the next door, he stopped.

  Stairs rose in front of him, broad and tall, to a landing above. Hazy light poured through the windows waiting at its end—and illuminated what looked suspiciously like a second flight, rising higher into the Library.

  Daniel stopped, still clutching the door. “Really?” he said. His voice was hoarse, tired. “Stairs? That’s your game?”

  Behind him, he heard the doors he’d so-recently come through creak shut.

  Something rumbled. He spun, in time to see a bookshelf sliding back behind its fellows, revealing a doorway behind—right alongside the base of the stairs.

  “What the…” he mumbled, taking a step forward until he could peer through the newly-opened arch.

  The familiar door of the sitting room lay within, a few dozen steps down the passage.

  Daniel shook his head, his expression hardening. “Alex. No. I’m not going back, okay? I’m not just going to run back with my tail between my legs and apologize.”

  Even if his chest ached. Even if the sight of Leon staring at him, eyes dark, still burned behind his eyelids.

  He tore his eyes off the doorway, turning back to the stairs, and gritted his teeth. “I- I have my reasons. It’s-”

  Lifting his leg to brace it off the first step sent daggers of fire straight up into his side. “It’s for his own good,” he groaned, holding fast to the handrail. “Y-You know that. Don’t be like this.”

  The chandeliers overhead swayed, creaking madly. The candles flickered, casting shadows up and down the walls.

  Daniel thumped the wall alongside him with his fist, scowling up at her. “Stop that.”

  Higher and higher he went. He set his jaw, still frowning, and just kept his gaze fixed on the next set of stairs. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he reached the top of the stairs, drooping as he clambered onto the landing.

  For a long while, he stood there, panting. His mask hung from his belt, bouncing with every shift and heave. He rubbed his foot against the wooden floor, making an irritated noise. “L-Look. I know you’re upset, but-”

  Wood scraped against wood. Daniel glanced over.

  The stairs waited behind him—and alongside them, a slide hooked into the landing, dropping from sight. It had lights on it, blinking merrily at him.

  “Would you be mature about this?” he snapped, wiping a hand across his sweat-soaked brow. “I said I’m not going back. If you feel so strongly about it, just lock me in, why don’t you?”

  He hurled himself away from the slide, stalking over to the second staircase.

  The first flight of stairs had been hell. The second was worse. By the time he stumbled over the crest of the stairs, his undershirt was soaked through—but ahead lay a plain, ordinary doorway. Daniel grinned at it, stumbling in its direction. “Finally,” he mumbled.

  He grabbed the handle. The door rattled, but refused to open.

  “Really?” he snapped. Why had he given her the idea? “Did you really just-”

  With another good yank , the door snapped open. He stumbled back, clinging to it for support. “Damn it, Alex.”

&n
bsp; She rattled her window shutters at him. He scowled right back, striding through the door, and-

  And yelped, tumbling down, as the floor fell away.

  The ramp waiting on the other side wasn’t tall, exactly. It was just tall enough to knock him from his feet, sweeping him to the ground. He hit the ground ass-first, sliding a few feet to the ramp’s bottom.

  “Why?” he cried, his eyes watering. “Alex! What the hell are you doing?”

  The books shook, rattling together on their shelves. The wind howled.

  “I’m doing my best,” Daniel snapped. “I can’t magic myself out of this. Are you expecting me to drag Leon into it, now, too? Damn it, Alex, I tried for you. But hasn’t he dealt with this enough? Haven’t all of them?”

  He hauled himself upright, not bothering to brush himself off. “If you’ve got an easy fix to this mess, help me out. You’re a library, aren’t you? Tell me how.”

  A book tumbled from a shelf farther down the narrow, darkened passage. He stalked toward it, stooping to yank it from the ground.

  “Self Defense For Dummies: How Not To Get Kidnapped,” he read out loud, his scowl deepening with every word. “Fucking great. That’s so helpful.”

  Spinning on his heel, he hurled the book back toward the door he’d come through. It landed with a satisfying thwack.

  “Don’t you think I’ve tried?” Daniel cried, striding onward as best as he could. “I’m sorry I fucked up. I’m sorry that I’m a shitty Librarian. Guess you should’ve kidnapped someone else.”

  The wind faltered. For the first time since he’d stalked away from Leon, the hallways fell quiet.

  This wasn’t a mature way to handle the situation. He knew that. He was well aware. He was old enough to manage this better, both physically and mentally. He just...didn’t care.

  When he rounded the next corner, ducking under one of the tunnel’s rafters that seemed to be getting lower and lower, yet another doorway sat at the end. This one was lined with fragments of stained glass, edged in silver.

  “Let me guess,” Daniel said with a groan. He shuffled toward it all the while, gritting his teeth against the pain. There was nowhere else for him to go, really. “Another staircase? Maybe a ladder? I’ve never tried rock climbing in here, we could give that a go. What’s it going to be?”

  He put his shoulder into the door, pushing hard even as he turned the handle, and shoved it open.

  It wasn’t another staircase, or a ladder, or an impromptu climbing wall. It was just...a room, with sweeping windows on two sides and a fireplace ahead. A couch sat in the center of the room, long and painfully soft-looking.

  Daniel stared at it, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Okay,” he mumbled at last, trudging toward it. “Okay, Alex.”

  His leg cried in relief as he dropped onto the couch. He worked the buttons down the front of his coat loose, raking a hand through his damp hair. He wasn’t comfortable. Not by half. But it was better.

  “I know you’re upset,” he said, once he’d wrestled his emotions into check. The flames danced before him, wrapping him in the blanket of their warmth, and he sagged lower. “I know getting captured fucks everything up. All of it. This is bad.”

  This was his job. His only job—to keep the Library and its guests safe. “And what did I do?” he whispered, chuckling softly. “I’ve only been Librarian for a decade and change and already I’ve managed to get her captured by our enemies.”

  The flames popped. He wrinkled his nose, flopping down to lay the length of the couch. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me, though.”

  Timber groaned overhead, like the building settling. It didn’t say a word, but he could swear he felt the whole floor tilting, nudging him back toward the doorway.

  “You want me to go back,” Daniel said. His eyes closed, and he sank back into the cushions. “I get it. I just- I don’t know why. He can’t help me. He can’t. I don’t know why you brought him here at all. He’s only just become a mage at all, and this Madis asshole is, like, next level.”

  He swallowed. “I’m still screwed. So why are you trying to force me to go running back there and make up with him? Why is he here at all?”

  The sound of paper rustling, flapping through the air momentarily rose over the crackling of the fire. Daniel opened his eyes—and raised a hand to catch the scrap of paper tumbling down toward him.

  When he turned it over, delicate letterwork curled across the paper in lines of black ink.

  Allow none within these walls to be harmed.

  “Yes,” Daniel said wryly, crumpling the paper up in his hand. “I know. I get it. That’s your big thing, isn’t it? But that’s why I’m here. He might…” He swallowed. “He might be hurt now, but it’ll be better for him in the long run. He won’t die. Isn’t that better?”

  A log in the fire crumpled in on itself. Sparks sprayed out of the fireplace toward him, and he shied back. “A-Alex. Come on.”

  The embers dwindled again—and Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. “So...what am I missing? Help me out, a little.” He chuckled to himself. “It’s the same bullshit reason you gave when he started showing up, isn’t it? It didn’t make any more sense back then. Who the hell would’ve gotten hurt if he’d stayed home and out of our business from the start? Who would be hurt now?”

  Light danced across his eyelids. He flinched, opening them.

  A mirror shimmered back down at him for the ceiling. He stared into his own eyes, frozen in place.

  And then it shattered, falling down toward him. The pieces faded to mist before they could reach him.

  Daniel stared, caught motionless with his eyes fixed to that point on the ceiling. “Me?” he whispered. “Alex, were you-”

  He glanced down to his hand—and the balled-up paper he still clutched. “Were you worried about me?”

  A puff of smoke billowed from the fireplace. He wheezed, masking a cough, and twisted until he could press his face into the pillow alongside him.

  “Damn it, Alex,” he mumbled, sagging. “I’m fine. I would’ve been fine. You didn’t need to try and find me friends.”

  And he’d just thrown Leon’s ‘meddling’ back in his face. He sighed. He’d been scrabbling for something, anything to get Leon to back off and leave him alone. The irony wasn’t lost on him, however.

  He pressed his hands to his face, massaging his eyes, and leaned back into the couch. “What a mess.”

  * * * * *

  The warmth around him faded, starting to waft away on the breeze. The cold crept in to take its place, chilling his still-damp shirt against his skin. Daniel shivered, curling up tighter.

  That...wasn’t right.

  He opened his eyes.

  The fire had burned down to embers, but somehow, they still managed to waggle with pointed, deliberate innocence. He stared at them, letting his thoughts resurface from the mists of sleep. Somehow, he must’ve nodded off.

  “I wonder how,” he muttered, shooting the fireplace a dirty look.

  He’d been so tired, though. And he did feel better.

  “It’s probably been long enough,” he said, tearing his eyes off the fireplace long enough to steal a speculative glance at the windows. He’d been out for hours, if the light outside was any indication. Which, inside Alexandria, it wasn’t, but it was as good as he’d get.

  Leon would have left by now. He’d be clear. Daniel smiled, closing his eyes again. It wasn’t what he’d wanted. He’d never wanted a goodbye like that.

  But it was still better than the alternative.

  Bracing his hands against his knees, he stood with a groan. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go home, Alex.”

  The whole room brightened. It was subtle, but he caught it, and rolled his eyes. When he took a step toward the door, it swung open before him.

  This time, there were no stairs—just that same slide from before, wide and smooth and perilously steep. Daniel inched toward it, wrinkling his nose. “Really?” he mutter
ed. “I’m not a kid, Alex. Can’t you just make me a door to-”

  A woman’s voice sighed, filled with amusement. “Just humor her,” he heard her say—and a hand shoved him, right in the center of his back. He stumbled forward, wide-eyed, and twisted.

  The room was empty.

  “Again?” he whispered. He stood, frozen, and stared.

  Finally, he turned, stooping low. “Fine,” he said. “If you insist.”

  A push, a shove, and suddenly the Library fell away from behind him. Fast. Very fast. The slide was smooth, smoother than he’d thought, and with the equally tight-woven, heavy-duty pants he was wearing…

  “Don’t kill me,” he gasped, trying to grab hold of the edges. “Come on, Alex, don’t-”

  As if hearing him, the slide jogged, and he flinched, clamping down on anything else he’d have said.

  He was pretty sure he’d never seen a goddamn slide weaving its way through Alexandria—and indeed, she was taking him the back way. He sailed through the abandoned spaces of the Library, through clouds of dust that wafted off beams and panels and the backsides of bookshelves. Lost pages tumbled down from above, stirred up by his passage. The timbers overhead sank lower and lower, until he lay back, fixing his eyes-

  On the doorway that suddenly opened in front of his slide—the slide that was ending. And that doorway…Daniel hissed, digging his heels into the sides of the slide, but there was no killing his momentum at this point.

  At least now he knew where Alexandria was taking him.

  His boots scraped against the slide, but it was too late. With a final gasp, he stiffened.

  The slide vanished from beneath him. In an instant, he was airborne, flying feet first through the open doorway.

  Daniel hit the floor of the sitting room hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. He lay back against the carpet, wheezing, and waited for his vision to stop spinning.

  Only...the room was...wrong.

  Another ragged gasp later, Daniel let his head fall to the side, furrowing his brow. It was the sitting room, but...different. The chairs were still there. And the fireplace. And the clock.