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

by Casey White

  He just drifted on, his vision pulling in tighter and tighter, as the woman out front spun back toward them with a snarl. The bullets aimed toward them flew back at their owners. The bursts of energy disappeared, exploding back toward the mages in lightning bolts and gouts of fire. Through it all, Leon watched with horrified, rapt fascination, his expression frozen somewhere between terror and delight.

  She was...familiar. Daniel blinked, trying to force his eyes to focus on her. He’d seen her somewhere. He was sure of it. But...where?

  With one final ball of condensed heat, she turned again, scowling, and he saw it. The woman—from the book. In Alexandria. A demi. A mercenary.

  Leon had come through on his promise.

  That was it—the final piece Daniel needed to classify this as ‘safe’. He relaxed into their grasp, his strength bleeding away. They were talking again. Moving. He stumbled on, every ounce of his focus going into keeping them moving. He could do that much. He was the Librarian, damn it.

  Until at last he flopped, pressing into something hard. A car seat. Someone dragged him up onto it, setting him straight. Daniel lifted his head, staring through eyes that didn’t want to see.

  “Leon,” he whispered as the brassy-haired man drifted into view at last.

  Leon grinned. That much, he could see. “Told you I’d come,” he said. “Bet you didn’t believe me.”

  Daniel exhaled, smiling. The car was moving. The two mercenaries were in the front, arguing away over...something. He couldn’t hear. He didn’t care.

  “Thank you,” Daniel said.

  And then he passed out.

  - Chapter Forty -

  Something brushed against his skin.

  Daniel twitched, trying to jerk away, but his body was heavy, unmoving.

  “Is he okay?” someone said. “Only-

  “Just shut up and let me work,” a woman sighed.

  A fingernail poked into his eyelid. Again, Daniel twitched.

  Light. It poured in, filling his world with blinding agony. A flashlight. Someone was in front of him, holding his eye open, and-

  “He’s good,” the woman said. The light vanished. “Like I told you.”

  “Oh.”

  There were hands on him. Daniel tried to move, tried to twist away, but still couldn’t do more than flinch.

  “We’re out of the worst of it now, anyway,” someone else said. With the fog starting to clear from his mind, Daniel could see him—that man, with the glasses. The mercenary.

  Right. The pieces settled back into place. The mercenaries. Leon had brought help, and gotten him to a car, where he’d…

  He’d fallen asleep. But he couldn’t remember going to Alexandria. The realization sent a shiver down his spine. He’d never not gone to Alexandria before.

  Had something changed?

  Lifting a hand to his chest, he focused. Something shimmered to life beneath his fingers—a pendant, cold and metallic. The gentle, familiar curves of the open book were a palpable relief. Alexandria was still there. He was still Librarian. Probably. With a final sigh, the necklace vanished.

  The hands on him moved, and he blinked, trying to clear his sight.

  Someone squeezed his shoulder. “Hey,” they said. The speaker from before. Right. Leon. “You still in there?”

  “I’m good,” Daniel whispered. “I’m...yeah. I’m good.”

  He could see them, now, if he strained—the black-haired woman, and the man with glasses, standing alongside Leon. Behind them, James and Maya waited in front of an apartment building he didn’t recognize.

  Olivia lurked alongside them. Her eyes were red, her face splotchy, but she offered him a smile.

  “Sweet,” the mercenary woman said, shoving her hands into her pockets. “I’ll take my money, then, and we’ll be gone.”

  “R-Right,” Leon said, half-turning toward Maya. “Uh- Did you have-”

  “Or, sure, take all day with it.”

  Maya wrinkled her nose, her lips curling down, and started digging through her purse. “Working on it.”

  Daniel inched forward, looking around. He was sitting outside the car, leaning against its tire. He licked his lips. “How...How’d you even-”

  “How’d I find them?” Leon said. Daniel nodded, and he grinned. “I, uh. Well.” He cast a look to the pair, then back to Daniel. “I’d spotted them in the book. And when I...woke up...I, uh.” He licked his lips, holding up a slip of paper. “I found a, uh. A note I must’ve left myself.”

  He shaped the words slowly and carefully, his eyes locked on Daniel’s—and the scrap of paper he held up was thick, old-fashioned. The name Amber was spelled out in bold, clear letters over a phone number.

  Daniel nodded, leaning back against the tire. Alexandria had helped him after all. He’d never seen her voluntarily send information beyond her walls, not apart from the notes his guests carried with them.

  Apparently, his being kidnapped warranted an exception.

  “Fascinating,” the woman said. Amber, Daniel was sure. “A touching reunion.” She grinned wolfishly. “You’re lucky we were close, asshole. You’re double lucky my partner was scoping things out and noticed shit going sideways.” She jerked a thumb to the glasses-wearing man, who smiled down at him. “Things went from ‘get our bearings’ to ‘oh-shit’ real fast.”

  Daniel swallowed. His head spun. “L-Listening in? Um. Well, I-”

  “He’s a telepath,” Leon said. The awe in his voice shone through clearly. “Isn’t that insane?”

  A telepath. Just like the ones Madis had used to fish around in his head. Daniel’s skin shivered. He shrank back, pressing into the car’s tire behind him. None of the others seemed to notice.

  “He’s my telepath,” Amber said. Her smile faded, turning serious. “Don’t even think of trying anything.”

  “I-I wasn’t,” Leon said, holding his hands up disarmingly. “U-Uh. Hey, Maya? How’s it coming with the-”

  “I’m working on it,” Maya said. She was fumbling around in her purse still, shuffling through what Daniel recognized as a stack of cash. She didn’t want the mercenaries to see it, he realized. Which was probably smart. But she couldn’t count the damn stuff like that, either. “J-Just a minute. I’ll-”

  “Give the whole thing to them,” Daniel said. His head rested back against the rubber of the tire, which was one of the most uncomfortable pillows he’d ever tried to use.

  Maya stopped. “You sure?”

  Daniel waved a hand toward them, grinning weakly. “Why not. They kept you guys from getting nailed. That’s...worth a bonus.”

  “Damn straight,” he heard the mercenary woman mutter.

  Maya nodded, but didn’t look quite convinced. “...Okay.” She pulled the money free, holding it out to the woman—who stared down at it, momentarily nonplussed.

  Only for a moment, though. A heartbeat later, she took the stack of bills, running a finger down the edges to show the denominations.

  Her poker face was good. Her partner’s, less so. His eyes were round, his lips parted. “Christ,” Daniel heard him mumble.

  She kicked him. He turned away, pressing a hand to his face. “That’s…” she began, but bit it back. That’s a lot of money to be waving around, he could almost hear her saying. She just shook her head, though, swallowing her words, and tucked the money into the pocket of her coat. “You should be careful,” she said, more quietly. “Wave money like that around, other demis might start wondering how much more you’ve got.”

  “Noted,” Daniel said. “Still. Thank you.” He had plenty more money, of course, which was exactly why he didn’t mind giving her a king’s reward. And...if the two of them had been willing to take on a rescue mission, even if well-paid, he wasn’t too worried about them turning around and coming after his head.

  “Whatever. We’re going.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “You’re on my car.”

  “O-Oh. Right.” Daniel clambered forward, stumbling to his feet. Leon grabb
ed his arm, hoisting him up, and James lumbered in closer.

  “Later.” With a final wave, the telepath followed her into the car. The doors slammed shut. The engine turned on.

  “S-So,” Daniel whispered as the car tore off down the driveway, clinging to Leon. His legs shook. He forced them to stop, taking a deep breath. He refused to toddle around like an invalid any longer than necessary. He was a grown-ass man, damn it. “This...This is, uh. Where are we?”

  “My apartment,” Maya said. “It was, uh. Closest. And I still need to feed my cat.” She drifted closer to the door. “So, uh. If you don’t mind?”

  “We’ll rest for a bit,” Leon said, tugging him forward. “You look like death warmed over. Gotta be honest.”

  “I know,” Daniel mumbled. “I feel like shit.”

  “Y-Yeah,” Leon said. “Take it easy. And then, after…” He trailed off, and shrugged. “We’ll figure out what comes next.”

  What came next, eh? Daniel nodded, following Leon to the entrance, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The three friends knew about him. What would he do? Where did he go from here? The thought occurred to him that someone else knew about him. He opened his mouth, turning to-

  Empty air waited alongside them.

  “Uh,” Daniel said.

  James stopped, halfway through the door. “No,” he groaned. “No ‘uh’s. None of that shit.”

  “Daniel?” Leon said.

  Daniel shook his head, looking around. “W-Where…Where’s Olivia?”

  The others turned to statues, frozen horror on their faces.

  But there was no one else there.

  “She took off,” James said. His expression turned dark, stormy. “That bitch. We’ll find her, and-”

  “And what?” Leon snapped, releasing Daniel’s arm. He was twisting and turning, as though Olivia was going to pop out from behind a car. “Shit. She probably knows all sorts of stuff, too. Come on. We’ll-”

  “Let her go.”

  James and Leon skidded to a stop. Then, they looked back to Daniel—who smiled. “She was no ally of Indira’s, before the end,” he whispered. “She was helping me to the last.”

  “That doesn’t mean shit,” James said. “Don’t be an idiot. She still-”

  “She’s got no one left,” Daniel said. The words came out sadder than he expected. “Indira’s...gone. The Booklenders are going to be in shambles. She wasn’t our enemy, not really.” He shook his head again. “Let her go.”

  The others stood frozen, looking around. James moved first. He shrugged, throwing up his hands, and turned back toward the building. “Whatever. Suit yourself.”

  Leon watched Daniel a moment longer, unsure. Daniel smiled. “It’s fine,” he said. “Trust me. She won’t be a problem.”

  Leon groaned, deflating. “I’m not coming after you a second time,” he muttered. Rolling his eyes, he trudged ahead of Daniel—who only smiled, trailing after him.

  The building was tall, he discovered. He also discovered that Maya’s apartment was on the third floor, and the only way up was a staircase. His leg was healed. That didn’t mean he liked climbing all the way up.

  But there was a smile on his face as he slipped into Maya’s too-small student apartment. Her cat nuzzled at his ankles, yowling its displeasure. Sticky notes covered the wall above an overloaded desk, and run-down, beat-up thrift store furniture surrounded a TV.

  Maya waved them toward it, fishing a tub of kibble out of the cabinet. “Blankets are over there,” she called.

  “Cool,” Leon said.

  James only nodded, jabbing at his phone. “I’m hungry,” he muttered.

  “So order something,” Maya said.

  He grinned. “Already on it.”

  It was all...so normal. Too normal, when just a few hours before they’d been fighting for their lives. Daniel stood in the doorway, grinning like an idiot, until Leon shot him a look. “Sit down,” he said. “You look like you’re going to fall over. Sit.”

  Daniel drifted forward, hardly feeling himself move. He sat. The couch enveloped him in its musty, scratchy embrace. James and Maya were laughing, somewhere behind him. Leon’s arm slid around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

  “We made it,” Leon said, his voice soft under the din.

  Daniel looked over—and smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “I think we did.”

  He didn’t pull away as Leon leaned in, as their lips met. The kiss was soft, sweet, and packed with all the relief none of them had quite put to words. None of it needed to be said.

  It was enough to press himself closer, savoring the warmth caught between them, and enjoy the moment for what it was. After this, they’d have to figure the rest out. They’d have to decide what came next, and he was pretty sure Rickard hadn’t died.

  But that was a problem for the future. Daniel pulled away at last, letting himself sink against Leon’s side. His head dropped to his shoulder. James and Maya were at a full roar by then, both grinning. Her cat yowled, its eyes glued to the still-empty food bowl on the counter.

  Somehow, impossibly, they’d made it.

  * * * * *

  Daniel opened his eyes.

  The ceiling over his head was lower than he expected, plain wooden boards dotted with old, rusting nails.

  Slowly, pushing back the blankets, he rose. His feet hit the cold, stone ground, and he shivered.

  His room was...wrong.

  The last time he’d been here, it’d been the same as always—a massive bed in the room’s center, covered over with thick blankets. Furs had covered the foot of his bed, thick carpets laid over the floor. A fireplace had burned in the room beyond, casting a flickering light over his bookshelves, the windows showing his garden beyond.

  All of that was gone. Well. Not all of it, he amended hastily. The bookshelves were still there, but instead of the elegant, richly-worked shelves of before, these looked more like the industrial, joined-metal shelves you’d find in a garage. The walls were as bare as the ceiling, all unpainted, weathered wood. The room’s only light came from a single candle resting in its holder on the wall. Even his bed had been reduced to a narrow cot, just a thin mattress over a metal frame.

  But he was here. He’d been allowed back in. He’d never expected to be so relieved to see the inside of Alexandria’s walls again.

  “Okay,” Daniel whispered, easing himself upright. “Alex? Is, uh. Is everything okay?” Even after the dreamer-fueled magic storm, Alex hadn’t looked like this. Bruised, yes. Battered, yes. But not shabby.

  The only reply he got was the creak of his door easing open—and not the Owl-emblazoned door he was used to. Even his door had been downgraded, reduced to simple iron-banded oak.

  His heart in his throat, Owl padded toward it. With one final groan of old, rusted hinges, he pulled it open and let himself into the room beyond, taking the candle from its hook.

  He made it all of three steps before stopping short, eyes wide.

  This should have been the sitting room. And it was, in a way. The chairs were still there, although they were plain, rust-spotted metal folding chairs instead of the overstuffed behemoths he was used to. The doorways around the room were gone. It wasn’t even shaped like the sitting room anymore, more like a giant study. Bookshelves lined one wall, as plain as the ones in his room. A single door sat opposite his bedroom, a familiar keyhole on the latch.

  “This is it?” Daniel said. He strode forward, toward what he already knew was the front door, and rested one hand against the cold iron. He twisted, examining the room, but...that was all. Just a single room no bigger than a school gymnasium, with a few rows of bookshelves on one side and his bedroom door in the corner. “This...you’re so small.”

  The door rattled beneath his hand. He jumped back—but found a chuckle rumbling up from his gut. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to offend.”

  Tearing his eyes from the bookshelves, he peered across the hazily-lit distance into the other side of the room. And then he sto
pped.

  A familiar statue sat tucked against the wall, and while he was used to seeing it lit by silver-blue, this time, the statue was dark. The shadows almost swallowed it up entirely.

  Alexandria was out in the open. Daniel hurried toward the statue, his heart hammering. “Hey,” he said. “Shouldn’t- Shouldn’t you be hiding this away a little better? Shouldn’t you-”

  “No need,” a voice said—a voice he was coming to recognize as the Library’s, echoing through his ears with an ethereal, otherworldly strength. He’d never quite heard her sound so exhausted, though, and she didn’t appear in the flesh. “I will be...better. Before it becomes a problem.”

  Daniel slowed, a few paces away from the statue. “Okay,” he said. “And, uh. The talking thing. Is this-”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  He chuckled. “Got it.”

  Easing closer, he reached out a hand to the statue—and froze. His horrified gaze dropped to the well.

  It was empty. He couldn’t make out even a droplet of water in its depths. No light gleamed up from within. He swallowed. “Alex, are you-”

  “I’ll recover,” she said. “Merely...exhausted, from your adventures in the outside. Don’t you have anything else to ask?”

  He let his breath out in a long, shuddering sigh. Did he have questions? Yes. Yes, he did—a whole pile of them, in fact. A smile tugged at his lips. At least she was giving him a chance to air them. He supposed he should be grateful.

  “Is it over?” was all he could say, though, sinking to a crouch alongside her dry well.

  He heard her sigh. “No,” she said. “I don’t think it is.”

  “But,” Daniel began, shaking his head. “But, we killed Madis, and-”

  “We killed his host,” Alexandria said. Her words filled the tiny Library, echoing back and forth until it felt like his head might explode. “His heir survived and escaped, along with his relic.” She paused, and Daniel got the distinct impression she’d be wrinkling her nose, if she was there. “Madis will be reborn through him into a new form, his knowledge intact.”

  “Oh,” Daniel said, faltering. “And...And he’ll remember this? I mean…me. Will he-”