by Casey White
Soft carpet crumpled under his fingers. Daniel stopped.
He’d fallen into another room, he saw - a sitting room of sorts, with a row of overstuffed chairs laid out in front of another, even larger fireplace. When he looked to either side, his unease building, hallways lined with doors stretched out as far as he could see.
“I know. I know, it’s going to be a problem.”
His eyes snapped forward, drawn by the sound of whispering.
There was a woman sitting in one of the chairs, he finally saw. She had a mug of something hot and steaming in her hands, lifted to rest under her nose. Her eyes gleamed dark and unhappy, her face tight-drawn.
But he’d recognized that voice.
All of his confusion and uncertainty and fear came to a head in that moment, pushed over the edge by the sight of the woman. He didn’t understand. But his heart was still hammering in his chest, and there was no room left for rational thought in his mind. He hurled himself across the room before he could reconsider.
“Miss Jean!”
No. No, that was wrong, he realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Miss Jean was old, with wrinkles and grey hair and everything. The woman sitting in front of him looked much younger. She might have been one of his teachers, even, with soft brown hair clipped to her shoulders and deep-set green eyes. There wasn’t even the trace of a line across her smooth, perfect skin.
And yet, that too-young woman turned at his cry, meeting his bewildered gaze with a smile. “Daniel. I figured you’d be up soon. Want some juice?”
The question was just so horribly, painfully normal. There was no way for him to respond in kind. He hit the chair beside her hard, clinging to it desperately. “Where’s my mom?”
Her expression tightened, going wooden. She stood, crossing to a metal case set against the wall, and pulled a pitcher of amber liquid from within. The acrid smell was all too familiar. Apple juice. Jean didn’t look at him as she poured a glass. “Now, I know this has to be confusing for you, Daniel.”
“I want to go home. Where’s my mom?” His voice rose plaintively. “Where are we?”
Jean held the glass out. He took it, moving more on habit than an sort of conscious decision. She eyed him, taking in his pout and the way his lower lip was just beginning to tremble. He was doing well. Better than she’d expected, really. But he was a child, and there was only so much he could be expected to take.
She knelt in front of him, resting her hand on his shoulder as he started to sip. “Daniel, your mom’s not here right now. But she’s not far, so don’t worry. You’ll see her again really soon, all right?”
He wiped his nose on his sleeve, beginning to sniffle. “H-How’d I get here?”
Jean sighed. “Look. I’m- I’m a librarian. You know what a librarian is, right?”
Daniel went quiet. He was still pouting, still looking as though he might break down at any moment, but for the moment, he waited.
Jean smiled gently. “Well, you see...I asked your mother if you might like to come see my library. I thought you’d enjoy a tour.”
His eyes widened, lighting up at the word ‘tour’. He’d been on field trips before, with his class, and they’d always been fun.
Her teeth gleamed in the flickering firelight as her smile grew. “Would you like that?”
Daniel hesitated, glancing around one last time. She’d explained, yes, but something...something wasn’t right, all the same. A tear dribbled from one eye.
But it did sound fun.
Slowly, cautiously, he nodded. His eyes never left Jean’s face as she stood, reaching a hand toward him.
He took it.
* * * * *
The day that followed was like nothing Daniel had ever experienced before. Jean made sure of that.
He followed close on Jean’s heels, all but swept away in a blur of excitement, as she led him from room to room. Each and every sight that spread out before him was enough to steal his breath away. She’d promised to show him her library.
She did.
Hall after hall played out, separated by looming oak-and-iron doors that swung open to reveal towering shelves stacked high with texts. Everywhere they looked were heavy, leather-bound books just like the ones in the bedroom - but rolled parchments lay alongside them, yellowed with age. Wooden racks with skins stretched across them were propped up around their feet, painted with something that smelled foul enough his nose wrinkled. She even saw him eyeing what looked like etched stone tablets tucked into one corner.
The rooms were every bit as varied as their contents. Sometimes, they didn’t even seem like they connected to each other. The two of them would walk through one room, built tall and solid with stone blocks and chandeliers like an old castle from his stories - and then cross through a doorway and be standing in a terracotta room that had sand piled in the corners. Other times Jean led him into rooms that seemed more like caves than any sort of building.
At first Daniel clung to her side, sniffling faintly, as if she’d vanish if he let go. As if he’d be lost forever in the maze, surrounded by wall after wall of books. The rooms were dark, and she could hear what sounded like whispers from within the shelves. Dreamers. She sighed. Every time a hushed voice reached his ears, he pressed closer to Jean.
The farther in they went, though, the more he seemed to settle. His confidence crept in with every doorway they passed through, eked on by his growing curiosity. His hand slipped from her pant leg. His eyes turned to the shelves around them, no longer pressed into her side.
Finally, she had to stick her hand out for him to grab, fixing him with a glare that said she knew how close he was to tearing off into the library on his own.
He beamed up at her, the last of his tears finally drying. “Miss Jean, this place is huge!”
“It sure is,” she said. She watched his head spin this way and that, hiding a smirk. “There’s no hurry, Daniel. Take your time.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, beginning to tug at her hand again.
She followed after him as he led her into the next room. “Want to know a little secret?” she said, chuckling.
Daniel glanced back over his shoulder, his brown eyes perfectly round. He didn’t say a word - but he nodded, bobbing his head furiously.
She leaned in, a crooked grin sliding onto her face. “Even I don’t know how big this place really is.”
His eyes managed to open even wider, impossibly. “Woah!” Before she could say a word, his expression faltered. His brow furrowed. Jean smiled. He was young, not stupid. That was good. He gathered himself, his eyebrows pulling together. “But...why? It can only be so big, right?”
Jean shrugged, trying to make the expression look casual. “Well, you see...” She held a finger up, like she was letting him in on something. “This library? It holds everything we humans have ever learned. Ever!”
A bit of the excitement left his expression. Daniel stared at her, his face beginning to scrunch up. Her blood froze. Had it been too much? Was it too complicated, too unbelievable?
“Like...every book?” he said, turning back to the room around them. “There are a lot of books.” His tone might have been doubtful, but she had to hold him back from running off again.
“Kind of! But...not quite,” she said, her smile going lopsided. “You have science class in school, don’t you?” God, he was young. He might not. If she couldn’t sell him on this, then they were both-
“Yeah!” he said, spinning to face her again with a brilliant smile from ear to ear. “Sometimes, they let us go outside and draw things! Sam likes to draw the birds, but...” He grinned horribly. “I like to draw the bugs. She screams.”
“That sounds like fun,” she said, holding in a laugh. “Why do your teachers have you do that? It’s not recess, is it?”
“...No,” he said, pausing. His brow furrowed. “Recess is way more fun.”
“I bet,” Jean said, the laugh she’d fought to keep in bubbling out at last. “So why d
o you think they want you to go draw bugs?”
Again, Daniel hesitated. “They say...something about learning their parts. How they work.”
“And that’s definitely learning, isn’t it?”
“...Yeah,” he said, still staring intently at the stacks of books.
Jean smiled. “Something like that is part of this place, too. Sometimes, you have to learn with your hands.”
“I still don’t get it,” Daniel muttered. His expression was changing, growing dark.
Somewhere around them, the building rumbled. The sound echoed through the library wing, like the very skeleton of it was shaking in the wind.
Jean hesitated, glancing to the side as the last of the noise faded away. She reached out, resting her hand against the nearest bookshelf. Be patient.
The shelf quivered under her fingers - but the library fell quiet.
“Let me show you, then,” she said, smiling down at the boy. “What’s your favorite thing, Daniel? What do you like learning about more than anything else?”
His lips parted at the question, her words running through his mind. And then he grinned. “Robots! Or- no. Trains!” He giggled. “Robot trains!”
Jean’s fingers tightened against the polished wood of the bookshelf. You heard him. “Oh, that does sound fun,” she said, sweeping her hand away. “Why don’t we try that room, then?”
He spun, a confused look flashing across his face as she pointed a finger behind him. “But- there’s not a-”
His words died as he stared at the doorway set into the wall behind him. Again, he took a step back, shaking his head slowly. “I...I don’t-”
“Come along,” she said gently, taking him by the shoulder. Before he could pull free, she pushed the door open, leading them in.
The last of his protests fell away as he stared at the sight before them - rows of smooth, wood-topped tables stretched across the room, laden with gears and wrenches and parts. Pictures lay here and there, bright and colorful and simple enough for even a child to follow. Jean smiled, leaning against the door frame as Daniel dashed into the room. Idly, she scuffed at the floor with one foot. You old softie.
Daniel threw himself at the kit with eager abandon, seemingly forgetting she was there at all. Jean let him work, counting off the minutes in her head as they passed. The figure came alive in his hands, changing from a pile of useless, meaningless bits of metal into something vaguely recognizable as a robot figure.
Finally, though, he came to a stop. As though only then realizing how much time had passed, he looked back over his shoulder with a guilty light in his eyes. “Oh- I’m sorry, Miss Jean.”
“That’s all right,” she said, pushing away from the wall and approaching him. He was so damned polite. Well, that was good, too. “Did you have fun?”
“Miss Jean?”
There was a new note to his voice. Something darker, confused and just beginning to take on a worried tinge. She sighed. “Yes?”
“...Was this magic?”
A surprised laugh slipped out before she could yank it back. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, my dear. A good scientist always speaks concisely.”
Daniel nodded, his back straightening at her words. A scientist, he seemed to be thinking, entranced. “I-I mean...” He hesitated, his shoulders rising. Just for a moment, she could see the kid in him again, hiding behind the too-polite young man. “We were in a library. And it was weird. And now we’re here.” He shook his head. “It’s wrong. It doesn’t make sense.”
Jean nodded, smiling faintly. “That’s better.” She lifted a hand, running it through her hair while she mulled over his question. This was it - the critical moment, the conversation she had to make count. “It’s...well, like I said. This is a special library, isn’t it? It has a lot of information in it. We needed a room like this, if you were going to build your train.” She laid her hands flat on the table, eyeing him sidelong. “So the library gave us one.”
Daniel shook his head, beginning to frown. “But...rooms don’t just appear. That’s weird.” His lips pressed into a fresh pout. “That sounds like magic.”
“I suppose...maybe it’s a little like magic,” she allowed, offering him a quick smile.
He didn’t echo the expression, though. His scowl grew. “Magic isn’t real. Mom said so.”
Jean laughed. “Well, it’s not exactly magic, I suppose. It’s just...very similar.”
“She said it wasn’t real. She’s not a liar.”
“Of course she’s not, Daniel. I know. But this is the library.” She held up a hand. “Things work differently here, sometimes.”
And then she snapped her fingers.
Daniel twitched, jumping at the sharp noise. His mouth fell open a heartbeat later as a tiny ball of smoke and flame shot from her hand. It twisted in on itself in a rush of heat and light, simmering until at last a dragon exploded out to sail gleefully around his head. He gaped, completely awestruck.
With one last circuit and a flourish of its ember-laden wings, it dissipated into a cloud of sparks.
“.....Wow,” Daniel breathed. He bounced back to the balls of his feet a second later. “Wow! T-That was...That was really-” He stopped, glancing to her and then away.
Jean slipped a finger under his chin, lifting his eyes to meet her own. “Never hold onto a question, Daniel. Always ask, if there’s something on your mind.”
He flushed to red in an instant, pulling away. “...Is that why you’re not old anymore?”
A laugh burst from between her lips. It started slow but built in intensity, until her whole frame shook from the force of her amusement. “Oh, I was wondering how long it would take you to get there,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I was getting worried you hadn’t noticed. That’d have been a problem!”
Daniel shifted from foot to foot, his blush deepening. She nodded, quieting herself. “That’s good, Daniel. Very good. That’s exactly right. Like I said, things work differently here. I don’t want to be old, and so I’m not.” She lifted a finger to trace her eye, dragging across the smooth, unblemished skin. “It’s a bit of a trick, but you’ll pick it up in time.”
Damn.
Jean froze, coming to a stop. It was too late. She’d said it, and there was no taking the words back.
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. He was still shifting from foot to foot, but his hands were clenched into fists at his side. He knew, then. He could feel how wrong it was. He was young, but even he had to see it.
And now, she found she couldn’t even look at him anymore. She stood with her arms crossed, gazing down at the floor. Her eyes were distant, like she was lost in thoughts of her own.
With every breath he took, though, his curiosity seemed to burn brighter. “Will you...” he began, clasping his hands in front of him. “Will you show me how, sometime? That dragon?”
Jean’s eyes snapped up to meet his at last. She stared at him, utterly expressionless. “I will,” she said at last, exhaling slowly. She rose, crossing to where he stood and offering him her hand. “I’ll teach you everything, I promise. Why don’t we talk, for a little bit?”
Daniel blinked, caught in indecision for a single heartbeat. Those doubts of his weren’t gone, then. But after a long, pensive moment, he nodded and took her waiting hand. They turned as one, facing a wonderfully carved door that he was sure hadn’t been there moments before, and emerged in the familiar sitting room.
“Well, then,” she said, guiding him to a chair. “Did you like the library? Did you have fun?”
He smiled up at her. This was a question he could answer, at least. His legs had to ache, and she could tell his shoes were starting to rub on his feet by the way he fidgeted, but it had been a good day. “Yes!” he said, regaining a bit of his earlier vigor.
“Would you like to spend some more time here?”
Daniel nodded, remembering the workshop. “Didn’t finish my model,” he mumbled, looking away. His feet kicked the empty air, bouncing off t
he upholstery with every stroke.
Jean smiled. “No, I suppose you didn’t. We can’t have that, can we?” Do it, you coward.
She sat down heavily in the chair across from him. Her hands came together, wrapping about each other and squeezing so tightly her knuckles went white.
“You see, Daniel, this library is just so very big,” she said. “It’s a lot for one old lady to take care of, you know?” She forced a smile onto her face, raising one eyebrow as she glanced over to the boy. “It’s hard on these tired old bones. I was thinking, maybe it’d be nice to have some young blood around here more often.”
The kicking stopped.
Jean’s blood chilled, but she kept her endearing smile in place. “Do you know anyone who might like that? Some bright young fellow with an interest in books?”
“...Wanna go home.”
Her heart ached. Of course you do. “Wasn’t that big bedroom nice? And all those books!”
The kicking resumed, with twice the exuberance of before. There was no other response.
She held one finger up teasingly. “You could play with models like that every day!”
It was too much. It was just one sentence, but with that, all of the confusion and fear and exhaustion of the day reached a head. Daniel launched himself out of his seat with an angry, terrified cry.
Jean leapt up as well, stiffening, but he was off and running by the time she could extricate herself from the armchair.
In a flash he was gone, tearing down the narrow hallway past the bedrooms.
“Daniel!” she cried, breaking into a run. “Daniel, please! Wait!”
It was no use. With a groan of tired wood, he pushed through the door at the end of the hall. Bookshelves rose up beyond, outlining his path. Jean accelerated after him, flying faster than she’d ran in years.
She slammed into the doorway hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs. It stuck in the jam, refusing to open. She kicked the frame. “Stop that!” One more slam and it came open. She burst through into the library beyond, already gasping for breath. The bookshelves loomed closer and closer.
And Daniel was gone.