by Casey White
“I do not know.”
Daniel stopped. The room went quiet, until at last, Alexandria began speaking again. “He thought he was stronger. I have shown him how wrong he was.” A hint of what sounded like satisfaction slipped into her words. “I’ve reclaimed some of his memories. Some of who and what Madis is. I hoped to rip away his knowledge of me, and of you.” Another moment of quiet, and this time he could almost feel her eyes on him. “I’m afraid I don’t know how successful I was.”
He nodded slowly. “That...The book he had. And the ink. The...blood.” Alexandria was silent. He took that as an affirmation. He chewed his lip, still mulling it over. “So he still might know about me,” he whispered.
“It is a possibility.”
Daniel groaned, wincing. “Great.” He shook his head, waving a hand before Alex could comment. “I’ll...figure something out.”
The rest of what he needed to ask lurked, pressing in on his mind. “Okay,” he said, more softly. “You say you reclaimed memories from him. You mentioned something about...your maker. But then, you were talking like you and Madis are related.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it, Alex. And I’m pretty sure Libraries don’t have relatives.”
For a long moment...silence.
“I am old,” she said at last. “Very old. I think you know that much.”
“Kinda getting that impression.”
She made a noise that might have been her laughing. “Old enough to come from a time when the energies you use, they use, were...commonplace. Freely accessible to all who had the talent.”
“Wait, so…you’re saying-”
“I do not remember much.” Her voice dipped lower, her frustration apparent. “I remember so little, but also...everything. The feeling of my fingers, plunging through the Earth. Filling the world with life. And then…” She sighed. “Something changed. I was shaped into this form, and the balance was broken.”
“Magic,” Daniel whispered. “But then-”
“Don’t interrupt,” she snapped. He stopped. He could almost feel her there in the room with him, drifting around and around as she paced. “When the rivers I used to fill went dry...there was panic. The mages who had once used my strength as theirs rushed to fill containers with the droplets they found.”
“The foci.”
He felt her nod, even if he couldn’t see her. “And when even those rivulets ran dry…” She sighed again. “There was...one who knew. Of my creation. And of the artificer who made me.”
Her voice had softened, creasing with the faintest hint of a smile. Every scrap of that good humor was gone a heartbeat later. “And this man stained his hands with my creator’s blood out of jealousy. Out of greed, for what was slipping between his fingers. To overcome what those greater than him had constructed.”
“Madis,” Daniel said. It wasn’t a question.
“He showed the world that it was possible,” Alexandria said. Her voice was starting to fade, going quiet, as though the edges were blurring. “But we were the first, him and I. By water, and by blood.”
“Water and blood,” Daniel breathed. “The rooms. In the basement.”
“You understand.”
“So, then-”
A knock split the quiet. Daniel froze, his fingers jerking against the smooth stone of the dry well’s edge.
Another knock. The crack of flesh and bone against the flimsy wood echoed around the room.
“Go,” he heard Alexandria murmur, her voice softer than ever. “I am tired, anyway. I would like to rest, now.”
Daniel forced a smile. “Okay. B-Back to work, I guess.”
He stood, lifting the candle against the darkness, and hurried toward the door. The knocking continued, but seemed softer with every hit.
Before they could stop entirely, he flipped the latch free and yanked the door open.
Olivia froze, her hand still upraised. Her eyes met his, softening. “Daniel.”
He took a deep breath. The night...wasn’t quite over, then. “Come in,” he said, turning away. “It’s not much, but take a seat. You probably...want to talk.”
“H-Holy shit,” Olivia whispered. “Is this...are we in Alexandria?”
“Yes.”
“But. It’s...it’s so-”
“Just sit down,” Daniel said, dropping to one of the wooden chairs. He set the candle down on the end table alongside it, watching the flickering light cast shadows over the walls. “I was surprised, when you vanished.”
“Oh.” Olivia hesitated, but took the second chair. “That.”
“The others weren’t happy. They thought you were trying to fuck me again.” He glanced over. “Are you?”
She shook her head, her eyes dropping. “No. I’m...I’m not. Actually, I-”
“Okay,” Daniel said, pursing his lips. He nodded. “Good. Because I kind of vouched for you, and if you were still playing games, I might get pissed.”
“Daniel-”
“I wanted to talk to you about the Booklenders.”
Olivia stopped, her brows furrowing. “Oh,” she said.
“The problem with our feud was always the same,” Daniel said. “Between Indira and me. It doesn’t matter how much we fight. Alex still needs readers, and…” He made a noise, raking his hands through his hair. “It’s hard. I don’t have the infrastructure set up for recruiting like that. You guys do.”
“Oh,” Olivia echoed, softer still.
“So, I was thinking, I at least know you’re not trying to get me killed. Most of Indira’s command structure probably just got wiped out alongside her, but you can rebuild that. The roots are still there.” Daniel stopped, suddenly aware of how fast he’d been talking. “So, uh. What do you think?”
Olivia smiled back at him, her eyes sad. “Of course I’ll do it,” she said. “I wanted to be guildmaster already. You knew that.”
He grinned. “I did have an inkling.”
“I never expected to take the position so soon, but…” She rose, starting to pace. “If no one takes the reins, the whole organization will collapse. That’d be a pity.”
“That too.”
“So...yes,” Olivia said. “I’ll do it. I want to do better than the ones that came before me. Let me fix what they broke.”
That’d been what he wanted to hear. “Perfect. Olivia, you-”
“And so.”
Again, Daniel froze. “And so?”
She turned back to face him, her fists balled up at her sides. “I want you to erase my memories of you, Daniel.”
His mouth hung open. He stared. His ears rang. “What?” he said at last.
“I know you can do it.” Olivia matched him stare for stare, her expression hard. “Indira told me about Adrian. Her predecessor. Your predecessor erased his memories about...everything. Alexandria. The Librarian. Even the Booklenders.”
“Y-Yes, but-”
“So do it to me. Take away my memories of you. Your name. Your face.” She smiled for a moment, her eyes dropping. “My time in Alexandria. Make me just another guildmember again.”
He could only gape. “Why?” he managed, finally. “Olivia, we just...we just escaped all of those. I need your help. So why the hell do you want me to-”
“I want to do better than them,” Olivia said. She clasped her hands in front of her, but he could still see them shaking. “But...I can’t. Not while I still know...everything. Things I shouldn’t know about the Librarian. Things that might hurt you.”
“You’re not going to hurt me,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “You’re-”
“I used you once already,” Olivia snapped, her eyes glistening. Daniel stopped. She shook her head, looking away. “What if I do it again? What if I’m tempted? What if someone else realizes I know more than I should? I...I can’t. It’s not fair to you. To risk it. I want to help you, Daniel, and I want to turn my guild around. But I want to do it right.”
His chest ached. A pit was opening beneath him, sucking what little light the ro
om had away until only shadows remained. He stood slowly, still staring at her. “I don’t want to,” he whispered. “I...we can do it together. We’ll be better.”
“Owl. Please.” Her hands tightened around each other. “You’re a good man. I told you that before, didn’t I?”
“I don’t-“
“But I know how the world works. This is the only way.”
Something clinked on the end table beside them. Olivia glanced down. Daniel didn’t. He already knew what he’d find.
“This is what I wanted,” Olivia said softly. Her eyes met his again. “This is why I left. I can’t...I needed to be away. From you. Before I...before this.”
Daniel swallowed. His throat burned. “I’m going to miss you,” he whispered. “A lot.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “You’ll see so much of me I’ll drive you insane.”
“But-”
“Get to know me again,” she said, and even if her eyes were dark, a smile played at her lips. “Our relationship doesn’t have to end, Daniel. We can be friends. Properly.”
It wouldn’t be the same, he screamed silently. And it wouldn’t. They could be friends, but as Librarian and guildmaster. Not...Not as Daniel and Olivia.
Which was exactly why Olivia was right, he knew. If they were going to fix things, they needed to fix the foundation first. Alexandria knew it, too.
He’d chosen to be the Librarian. It was time to start acting like it.
Slowly, Daniel reached down, taking the two fluted glasses sitting on the end table. One was marked with a tiny owl at its rim. That one, he kept.
The other one, he held out to her. “You’re right,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry.”
Olivia reached out, taking it with a laugh. “Don’t apologize,” she said. Her eyes flicked up to meet his as she lifted the glass to her lips.
He hardly tasted the champagne as it went down. Numb, he set their glasses back down.
Olivia was smiling, triumphant. “There,” she whispered. “Thank you. I’m...I’m sorry, Daniel.” She wobbled unsteadily.
He caught her as her legs gave out. The two of them dropped in a heap, his arms still snug around her.
She laid her cheek against his chest, her eyelids drooping. “For everything,” she murmured. “I’m...I’m so...”
“For once in your life, shut up,” Daniel said, biting back something between a laugh and a sob. “I’ll...I’ll see you on the other side. Okay?”
Olivia smiled, her eyes foggy. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Did...Did I do okay?”
He stroked her hair, teasing out the myriad strands. “Yeah,” he said, forcing a smile. “You did g-great. You saved me, Olivia. And my friends.” Another strand slipped between his fingers. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Her lips curled up. “And...don’t forget it,” he heard her murmur, her eyes sliding shut at last.
A heartbeat later, her breathing slowed, slipping into the steady rhythm of someone asleep. The lines of tension creasing her face eased, relaxing.
Daniel swallowed. His gaze lingered on her face, one last time.
And then he gathered her up, lifting her from the ground, and carried her into his room. By the time she woke up, she’d be outside of Alexandria. There was no risk.
The mattress clinked gently as he set her down. He drew a blanket over her. There, again, he paused, his hands still hovering over the blanket.
In a different world, maybe...things could have been different. Maybe they could have been more. But he’d gotten his miracle with Leon, and James, and Maya.
Some things were too much to ask for.
“Goodbye, Olivia,” he whispered, straightening.
Turning, he left her behind, returning to the candlelight.
- Chapter Forty-One -
The sun blasted down from overhead. Daniel winced.
The others drifted toward the car in the apartment’s parking lot—the brand new car, still all shiny and un-dirtied, with the faint odor of its newness seeping out through an open window.
“Still can’t believe you just ran out and bought a new car,” Maya muttered. “This is so unfair.”
“Last year’s model,” Daniel said. “It’s cheaper.”
“It’s still new.”
“W-Well. I needed something to drive,” Daniel mumbled. “Assholes blew mine up.”
Maya rolled her eyes, still ogling the car, but retreated back to the sidewalk. “You’re sure you have to go?” she said, the edge leaving her voice. “Both of you?”
Daniel took a deep breath—and glanced to the car. He hadn’t bought it just for fun, after all. “It’s best,” he said. “I shouldn’t hang around.”
James made a face. Leon was still busying himself with something inside the apartment, the front door hanging open. “But you said he died,” James said. “So why-”
“Kind of,” Daniel said. “Madis died. But…” He let his breath slide out, trying to piece together what Alexandria had told him, alongside what he’d read in the basement of the Library. “It sounds like...he’s not dead-dead. Not really. That book of his. It’s going to bring him back, through whoever has the book next. His knowledge, or something.”
“Like a lich,” Leon called from the doorway, wrestling with a backpack.
Daniel snorted. “I guess. Like a lich. So, on the off chance his next owner remembers me...” Rickard, his thoughts whispered. And Rickard would remember him. That much wasn’t a question. He shook his head. “It’s best I make myself scarce,” he finished. “I’m just headed home to grab a few things and trash the rest, then I’ll vanish. Got to keep a low profile now.”
A scowl curled across James’ lips. “But, if you’re gone, who’s going to-”
“I’ll still be watching,” Daniel said, leaning back against his car. “I can keep an eye on you from Alexandria and yell if it looks like someone’s sniffing around.” He shrugged. “I can’t do the same for me. If someone’s caught on to my identity, well, it’d be too late by the time I realized it.”
James still wore a scowl, but he’d started nodding somewhere in the middle of Daniel’s speech. “Fair,” he grunted.
Daniel arched an eyebrow. “It would be good for you to travel too, though. You’re a mage, now. The more you hang out in one spot, the better the odds someone does find you.”
“Does it look like I’ve got the cash to go world-hopping?” James said. And then he paused, glancing back to Daniel. “But, uh.” His eyes lingered on the car, then darted to Daniel’s face. “If you’re offering.”
Maya elbowed him. He grinned.
Daniel grinned, too. “We’ll see.” His coffers weren’t endless—but after getting his friends shot at and chased out of their own homes, a bit of vacation time seemed like a fair trade.
“Sweet,” James said. He glanced back toward the building. “Hey. Leon. Car’s leaving.”
“I-I’m coming,” Leon said, thrusting himself through the front door. “Wait up.”
As though he’d leave without Leon, Daniel thought with a chuckle. He hurried forward, though, snagging the duffel bag Leon dragged behind him. “You’re hopeless,” he muttered, offering his friend a sidelong smile.
“Ouch,” Leon said. “Coming from you, that hurts.”
“Oh, shut up.”
The trunk came open with a beep, and Daniel slung the duffel in. Leon’s backpack followed it. Daniel straightened in time to see Leon bear down on Maya and James, sweeping Maya up in a hug. She squeaked. He laughed, letting go of her, and clapped James on the shoulder. “Stay out of trouble,” he said. “And figure out that hammer of yours, okay? I’m going to want to see some cool shit next time we swing through.”
“Don’t worry about me,” James said. “You’re the one with the wimpy little flute.”
“It’s a pipe.”
“Whatever.” James pulled Leon in for a one-armed hug, still chuckling. “Don’t get shot.”
“You too.”
Daniel watched them separate. Leon backed away from his friends, toward Daniel’s car. He caught Daniel’s eye as he turned. “Waiting for something?”
Daniel shook his head. “Nope.” With a final nod to James and Maya, he climbed into the driver’s seat.
A moment later, Leon plopped down in the front, pulling the door shut. “Okay,” he said, stretching his arms out. “Let’s go. I get to see your house.”
“That’s all you’re excited for?” Daniel said dryly.
Leon grinned. “You’ve probably got this batcave deal hidden somewhere. How can I not want to see it?”
“It’s just a house.” Daniel watched James and Maya meander toward the door to her apartment, still chattering away to each other. “Hey.”
Leon looked up. “What?”
“You sure about this?”
With a snort, Leon grabbed his seat belt, buckling himself in. “What’re you talking about? Of course I’m sure.”
“Only…” Daniel glanced back to the apartment. “I can’t stay in one spot for any length of time, not if I’m going to make myself hard to track.”
“I know that.”
“We could be wandering for months. Years. I...It’s not like I’m going to be able to up and kill Madis, so there’s not exactly an end date on this.”
“I know that too.” Leon’s grin went crooked. “I’m down for you footing the bill for some long-term vacationing, yes sir.”
“But…” Daniel shook his head. “You’ve got school. You’re in college. You’ve got your own future to worry about.”
“Right, and they do remote classes. With you tutoring me, it’ll be a breeze.”
“And you won’t see James or Maya. Or any of your other friends.”
“What?” Leon laughed, hunkering lower in his seat. “You’re the damn Librarian. They’re just a sleeping pill away. We’ll see each other—and you would be helpless without someone to look after you. Can’t have my boy getting all lonely and depressed again.”
“Only-”
Leon’s hand snaked over. He turned Daniel’s face toward his, planting a peck on his lips. “Drive, idiot,” he said, sitting back with a chortle.
