by Casey White
He couldn’t win. He had to know it - Crow had taken every last one of his attacks and turned it away. She didn’t even look like she was struggling. Owl’s heart leapt. More than ever, it was clear that she was the Librarian. She was strong. And against a power like that-
Again, Adrian’s eyes flicked to Owl. Owl flinched, frozen in place.
He didn’t look angry anymore.
He looked resigned.
He saw the man’s hand twitch toward his pocket.
With Indira’s cry echoing about the entryway, Adrian plunged his hand in - and pulled it free. Something silvery glittered in his fingers. He threw his arm out and-
The ground roiled under Owl’s feet. He wobbled, hopelessly off balance for an instant, and then tumbled backward.
Something flashed by as he fell, mere inches past his nose.
He slammed into the ground a heartbeat later, his scream turning to a helpless wheeze.
With the world still spinning around him, Owl lay flat, gasping against the burning in his lungs. He needed to get up. He needed to see what was happening. The best he could manage was rolling over, curling up and starting to cough.
The air wasn’t hot anymore. As the seconds flitted past, he opened his eyes, turning over.
“Stop.” Crow. Her voice was soft, but firm. “Indira, that’s enough.”
“I...” he heard the other woman cry, her voice twisted with emotion. “I...I can’t let him-”
“I understand. But you have to stop.”
Crow. She needed help. With a final splutter, Owl rolled to his hands and knees, clambering upright.
She’d wrapped herself around Indira, he saw. Her hand was fixed about Indira’s wrist, holding her back. The booklender clutched a shard of glass in her palm. Rivulets of blood coursed down Indira’s wrist from where she’d cut herself, but still she gripped the thing tight enough she shook.
A moment later, Owl saw him - Adrian, a scant few feet in front of Indira. He twisted and fought, groaning faintly to himself.
He was fighting the floor, Owl realized. The floor that’d opened beneath him, the stonework parting and giving way to mud beneath. Already, Adrian had sunk to his knees. Another inch disappeared as he watched.
“Help,” Adrian cried, struggling to free one of his legs. His other sank deeper with the motion. “Jesus. Jesus Christ. You have to-”
“Oh, my god,” Indira whispered, her eyes going wide as Crow inched back far enough for her to see. The glass dropped from her senseless fingers. “Adrian. He-”
The mud rippled ominously. Adrian dropped another few inches, sinking to mid thigh. Planting his hands against the stone and pushing, he looked up to where Crow waited. “Please!”
Crow eased herself off Indira, settling the woman to the ground. Her face turned to Owl, hidden behind the mask. He saw the question there anyway, and nodded. I’m fine.
“You came into Alexandria and attacked me,” Crow said, looking back to Adrian. “You broke the peace, Adrian.”
“Fuck,” Adrian gasped, still trying to heave himself free. With every inch of his legs that vanished into the murk, his attempts grew more feeble - and the mud seemed all the more greedy as it sucked him in. “I-I’m sorry. I just- Please, dammit!”
“Worse than that, you attacked my apprentice,” Crow said, and her voice had gone eerily still. “You tried to take his life. A child, as you pointed out to me.”
A shiver ran down his spine. Adrian had...tried to kill him?
Slowly, he glanced back over his shoulder.
A knife hung from the wall behind him, its tip embedded in the wood of the door frame. That silvery flash passed through his mind again - and the fall. If he hadn’t gone down...if the floor hadn’t sent him tumbling...
His mouth was bone-dry when he lifted his gaze to Adrian and Crow again. The man had sunk to his waist, his expression turning more frantic by the second.
And he didn’t seem to have a reply for Crow. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
“Help me,” he whispered at last.
Crow bowed her head. Her hands clenched into fists, then opened again.
“You’re done, Adrian,” she said, looking up again. “The Library makes up its own mind.” Owl couldn’t see her face, but he heard the grim smile in her words. “And I think it’s saying it doesn’t want you here.”
This was the Library’s doing, then? It was intervening? Adrian pushed himself up another inch, then sank deeper with a cry. “C-Come on, Crow! I’m sorry! Just-”
“I’ll help you,” she said, her tone cutting. She dipped a hand into one of the dozens of pockets lining her overcoat. “But know this. You are never welcome in these halls again. You’re unworthy to even carry the memory of Alexandria with you. And so you won’t.”
Adrian flinched, his eyes tightening. “Please, just-”
“Your days as guildmaster are finished,” Crow said, pulling her hand free. A vial gleamed between her fingers. Ignoring Adrian’s spluttering, she forced his head back - and worked the top loose.
His cries quieted as she poured it down his throat.
The act done, she recapped the vial, dropping it back into her pocket. Again, she reached out. “I’ll spare your life, if only so my apprentice doesn’t have to live out his being haunted. Wherever you go, whatever you do, it has nothing to do with the Library anymore.”
He blinked wildly, his eyes going unfocused. “Crow, I-”
“Begone,” she whispered, pressing two fingers to his forehead.
Owl heard Adrian cry out one final, mournful time. Light flared across the entryway.
When he opened his eyes again, the man was gone, with even the stone tiles replaced to their own perfect locations.
Crow was already crossing to Indira, holding out her hand to help the woman up.
“I-I’m sorry,” Indira stammered, rising. Tears poured from her eyes, coursing down her face. “I didn’t- I didn’t know. I never thought he’d-”
“I understand,” Crow said, and the formality had returned to her voice.
“I tried to stop him,” Indira said. “Please. Please know that. I would rather kill him than let him ruin-”
“You meant well,” Crow said, still holding Indira’s hand. Blood dribbled down the booklender’s fingers. “But there shall be no fighting in the Library. No one may die on these grounds. You know that, Indira.”
With a shuddering sob, Indira bowed her head. The black waves of her hair rippled down around her face. “I...yes. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“We’ll move past this,” Crow said quietly. “Like I said. I value the relationship we’ve had thus far. We value it.”
Indira lifted watery eyes to meet Crow’s. “T-Thank you. Really. I’m so sorry. I never-”
“But Adrian is gone, now.” Crow didn’t move, pinning Indira in place. “Congratulations, guildmaster.” Her hand tightened about Indira’s. “I pray that you might learn from your predecessor’s mistakes.”
Owl watched the woman’s face go blank with shock - and then her eyes widened. “I...oh. I...that is...yes. Yes, of course. I’ll work hard to make sure we-”
“Good. Now leave.” Crow dropped Indira’s hand, taking a step back. “You have much work to do, I think.”
Indira stammered out something else, the words completely unintelligible. She backpedaled all the while - and then, as her feet hit the wooden edge of the foyer, she dropped into a bow. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Whirling, she grabbed for the door. White poured in.
And then they were alone again. Owl drooped, caught in place staring at the door. Exhaustion washed over him, rushing in thick and heavy as the tension broke.
Something brushed against his shoulder. He jumped, yelping.
“I’m sorry,” Crow said. Her fingers squeezed his jacket.
He watched as she lifted her other hand, undoing the straps - and pulled her mask free, shaking her hood loose in the same motion.
H
is hand twitched, itching to reach up and mimic her. But something about her expression...he couldn’t move. There was a weight in her eyes he hadn’t seen before.
In that moment, she looked as resigned as Adrian had.
“W-Why?” Owl stammered, forcing his voice back to something more cheerful. “You were awesome! You were-”
“I couldn’t do it all,” Jean whispered, and that weight pressed down on her voice, too. “Stopping Indira - and stopping Adrian. Protecting you. I...I had to choose.”
Owl glanced back again. That knife still hung where it’d been thrown, sticking from the wall. “That’s okay,” he said. “I...I guess...I...”
His gaze dropped to the stone floor. “Something moved the floor,” he said. “And I fell. If that wasn’t you...then...”
“Alexandria looks after her own,” Jean said, and for the first time, he saw the hint of a smile on her lips. “She’ll protect you. I know she will. But...I’m still sorry. For this.” She lifted a hand, swabbing at her nose. “For everything.”
He laughed then, only a little awkwardly. “It’s...it’s okay.”
Her eyes darkened, twisting with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “No, it’s not.” But she lifted her mask before he could say another word, fixing it back in place. And then she held a hand out for him to take. “Come on. There’s more that’ll need doing today, I think.”
Owl took Crow’s hand. Something still didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t place it. He didn’t know what to say.
And so he stayed silent, and let her lead him back into the Library.
- Chapter Eight -
Owl plastered a smile onto his face, knowing full well the mask would hide the expression. “How about this?”
He squeezed his fingers a little tighter about the hand he held, looking over.
The dreamer was a child no larger than himself, his skin lit from within with blue. The boy glanced to Owl, fear filling his eyes. “But...I don’t know where he went.”
“I know,” Owl said, pulling him forward. “I’ll help you, okay? Maybe there’s an answer somewhere around here.”
Inwardly, his gut churned. This felt...weird. Outwardly, him and the boy looked about the same age. But his movements were clumsy in a way Owl’s weren’t, and getting across even the simplest idea was complicated at best.
They were different. Jean had been right. He was older - but how much so? And why?
When the dreamer didn’t move, Owl reached up, sliding one finger down against the spine of a tome. “How about this one?”
She’d told him the dreamers were exhausting to handle. She’d warned him that they needed help, that they wanted to be guided. That had been putting it lightly.
He’d no sooner pulled the book halfway from the shelf when the boy began shaking his head furiously. “No. Not that one. Something else.”
Something else like what? Owl sighed, but pushed the book back in. The boy’s eyes were starting to well with tears, pools of diamonds that glittered down in the half light. “It’s okay,” he said, grabbing the dreamer’s hand again. “We’ll find it.”
“He was there, and I looked away for a second, a-and,” the boy burbled, lifting a hand to wipe at his nose. “Mommy won’t tell me. She just says he’s...he’s staying with friends. But I don’t...I don’t think he’s-”
“Don’t worry,” Owl repeated, clinging to the words and repeating them over and over. “It’s okay. I’ll help you look.”
He led the boy from the room, moving on autopilot as they trudged out into the hallway. Alexandria seemed smaller than usual today, offering them warm, cozy wooden walls rather than the sweeping, grand stone arches she usually preferred. He giggled quietly, scuffing a boot against the floor. Because of the dreamer? Was she trying to comfort him?
Still, the hush filling the air sent a shiver of unease down Owl’s spine. It was always quiet in the Library - Crow liked it that way - but it’d been more pointed than ever in the two weeks since Indira and Adrian had knocked on their door.
The other guests had heard odd noises, yes. They’d asked about gusts of wind and the distant sound of glass breaking. But none had seemed terribly worried, and had shrugged the whole incident off quickly enough.
Crow, however...
Owl made a face, his head hanging a little lower as he pulled the dreamer onward. Jean had been even quieter than usual. She’d left him to see to the visitors almost entirely by himself, barricading herself in her quarters for hours at a stretch. The few times he’d poked his head in, desperate for some sort of contact with his teacher, he’d found her sitting at her desk - her desk that’ been piled high with journals.
She’d waved him off with a smile and a laugh, but something about the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“...Hey,” the dreamer said, his voice wavering.
Owl bit back another groan. At least with all of their guests depending on him, he didn’t have to worry about getting bored. “We’re almost there,” he said, quickening his steps. “Just a little more. I’m sure of it.”
His eyes lifted, dancing across the elegant wood-paneled walls. If you have anything to give him, now’s the time. I don’t know how much longer I can-
Wind rustled through his hair. A pair of candles flickered from farther down the hallway.
Owl grinned, elation running through him. The candles framed a door - a goal. “Come on,” he said, tugging the boy on faster. “How about in here? Let’s look.”
The dreamer made a tiny, sad noise, but followed.
Owl burst through the room, his impatience building. A gallery stood before them, the walls lined with paintings. Stack after stack of manuals and guides sat in heaps around the edges of the room.
“Ah!” the boy cried. His fingers slipped free of Owl’s.
Owl slowed, coming to a stop as the dreamer sprang forward, dashing toward one of the paintings. A dog, he noted, big and black with a tongue that lolled out happily.
In the dim haze of the Library, from a distance, the colors almost seemed to blur together, moving. He would have sworn he could see the painting move, the dog’s sides lifting and falling as though-
He tore his gaze from the painting as the dreamer exploded into light. There. All done. He still couldn’t quite comprehend how the Library worked, or what exactly the dreamers found in their searches, but...they seemed satisfied. That was good enough for him.
Lifting his booted feet from the ground, he took a step back. Another. The door pressed against his back, giving way as he pushed.
And then Owl was off, hurrying through the hallways with his hands in the largest pocket of his sturdy overcoat.
He’d need to check back with the other guests, first off. The dreamer had been unexpected, like they always were. And this one had been more stubborn than the others he’d run across. Knowing his luck, when he went back to resume helping, the others would have-
The door to the study creaked open under his hands, and he froze.
“I know this isn’t what you planned on,” Crow said. She stood at the head of the study, straight-backed and collected. The scholars stood in clusters before her, just a smattering of pairs that watched with rapt attention. Marv’s mouth hung open in what looked like shock.
“But, rest assured,” Crow said, holding up a hand as one of the men in front took a step forward. “I have no intentions of taking away your rightfully-granted visit time. Your library cards will properly reflect your shortened stay within our walls.”
Owl rocked back on his heels, feeling like she’d struck him. Crow was...sending people home? But they’d just spoken to Indira and Adrian a few weeks ago. She’d said-
He blinked. A few weeks. And in the meantime...His eyes lidded shut, his mind picturing the clock that hung over the sitting room’s mantle.
The next quarter had been due to end on the morrow - the next stamp-length of visitation. There’d only been a single scholar leaving, so he hadn’t...
Crow
stepped away from the group, leaving their complaints and pleas to fall against the empty air. He surged forward, but stopped. Something about her posture, the rigid way she moved...It was as though she was wound up like a spring, poised to burst at any moment.
Something was wrong.
He opened his mouth, ready to call her name and charge after her, but a cry of “Librarian!” from the group brought him around.
The guests turned as one, their eyes glued to him. A half-dozen pairs of hands waved for his attention, a half-dozen voices cried for his aid. He smiled sourly, fighting the instinct to run as they bore down on him.
Before they made it that far, though, he glanced to Crow, readying another cry - and stopped.
She’d already reached the door, her steps slow and pained. As he watched, confused, she pushed it open.
A pair of hands grabbed his wrist, with a jostle that promised the others were right behind him.
“Owl! Boy, you have to help me. I still need to-”
“Oh, lay off, Marv. I just need-”
“Oh, come on! We should-”
Owl rocked, pushed back and forth by their grappling hands, and watched as Crow vanished into the hallway beyond.
* * * * *
“I still don’t understand why we have to go,” one of the scholars muttered under his breath.
Owl laughed awkwardly. Their guests filed down the hallway in a scraggly row, clutching their journals to their chests like a lifeline. Crow had taken up the lead - which left him to follow behind, making sure none of them tried to dart off and hide deeper within Alexandria.
She hadn’t spoken since she’d arrived in the study that morning. She’d only opened the door, bowed low, then...waited. The sight of her standing silhouetted in the lantern-light had been enough to move the guests - by sheer unease, if not actual desire to leave.
And now they all walked toward the exit, step after step.
Indira would be furious, Owl knew. His hands clenched up. He tucked them into his jacket, keeping his head high and his steps even. They’d just worked through the last incident - and Adrian had been worried about exactly this event. How would Crow justify them kicking everyone back out?