by Casey White
No sooner had his feet touched the ground again, right by Alan's side, than he burst into motion. One hand jabbed toward the ceiling, the fingers pressed together like a knife. He jerked his elbow, spinning his hand in an ungainly spiral. Right here.
Alan's bare hands batted at the cinders burning on his sleeves, fighting to extinguish them. The whole section of shelf was starting to smoke, though, the flames carried by time-worn lacquer and delicate, long-dried papers. Owl grabbed for him, ignoring the heat that lapped at his hands, and twisted Alan so that the worst of the fire faced him rather than their guest.
Alexandria. Come on. Now.
An ominous gurgle filled the air - and then something slammed into the back of Owl's head. Something heavy and wet, that cascaded over him and Alan in a tidal wave of cool, frigid relief. Owl shuddered, driven forward under the pressure of it, but watched from behind the shield of his mask.
Alan's shrieks of protest died away in a gurgle - alongside the fires coating him.
Owl grinned. There. One thing down.
Even if he could still see the angry red scorch marks coating the man's arms, and the black soot burned into the fabric of his sweater. The fabric had started to melt in places. He winced.
"Come on," Owl gasped, pushing himself upright and grabbing Alan's arm. The man moaned, wobbling dangerously, but didn't resist as Owl hauled him to his feet.
Dylan still stood in the narrow center of the wing, white as a sheet and shaking. The candelabra was still clutched in his hand, all of the candles but one twisted and broken. The one flickered merrily still, a stark contrast to the chaos of the scene. The roar of shelf after shelf slamming down echoed about the room.
Owl shoved Alan toward his friend, only half watching the drunken scholar. "Get out of here," he spat. "Out into the hall. Now."
Leon, he realized with a jolt. Leon had been here, too. Had he gotten out? Was he still watching?
He was smart, Owl told himself. He'd see what was going on. He'd get clear - or stay hidden.
"How?" he heard Dylan cry. "There's-"
Owl spun, heart in his throat. Dust flew from each shelf as the chain reaction continued, hideously slow and inexorable. It filled the air in choking clouds, turning the air around them all but opaque. Should I have been dusting you all these years?
Through it all, a little voice whispered that this was too much, that the destruction went way beyond what a few bookshelves should have done. Is this your doing? he whispered desperately. Another shelf wobbled, then overbalanced. He gaped. Did- Did you just tip that over? Alex?
His hands flew out again, though, arms extended in both directions, and his fingers clamped down. This was going to stop. He was the Librarian, and his job was to keep everyone here safe, and it was going to stop, before-
A terrible noise tore through the wing, shrieking like a demon. Owl's head spun around.
A support. More than one row of shelving was tumbling down by then - Alexandria was nothing if not excessive, especially around guests - and one of the rows had reached its end. Well. It'd reached the pillar waiting at the end, that was. With each of the shelves standing as high as two men and carrying untold tons of leatherbound paper, the tiny column of wood didn't stand a chance no matter how beautifully it'd been carved. It snapped through in an instant, crashing to the side and smashing into one of the yet-standing shelves.
Which overbalanced, starting the whole process over again. Sweat rolled down Owl's back. Because of course it did.
The whole wing was groaning by then, echoed by the distant sound of nails screeching against their wooden homes. Owl's fingers tightened. The two visitors huddled farther down the study, frozen in place as the chaos grew around them. Another shelf slammed down. The cunningly-worked chandeliers from overhead danced back and forth, dropping glass and fire down into the study.
Gritting his teeth, Owl fixed the scene in his mind - and dug in his heels, twisting his fingers. Stop. Just stop. Just for a minute. He didn't know if Alexandria was angry at him or if she really was helpless to stop any of this, but damn it, he needed a path.
The destruction continued around him, but ahead, he saw the space around the two come grinding to a halt. Fragments of glass hung in midair. Books hovered, halfway off their shelves. Another shattered support column wobbled, caught in the collapse. For a moment, amidst the chaos, a moment of quiet rang true.
"Run," Owl hissed, his teeth clenched together. Damn it, why were they just standing there? "Run, damn you."
The two flinched, their eyes wide and terrified - but somehow, in the middle of it, the situation seemed to reach Dylan. He stumbled forward, grabbing hold of Alan's arm, and towed him toward the distant shape of the double doors.
Owl panted, his eyes fixed on their backs. The sound of glass shattering overhead rose louder and louder, and one of the chandeliers tore free at last. It crashed down between him and the pair. They jumped - and that seemed to be the final straw.
They ran. Without looking back, they bolted, leaping piles of books and shoving their way past a ruined desk. A handful of steps, and...
And they were gone. Owl exhaled. His skull was ablaze, like someone had hit him with an axe handle. The tension left his fingers, and the chaos resumed before him.
He wet his lips, looking around. Alexandria wouldn't hurt him, no matter what strange temper tantrum she seemed to be having. There'd be a way out. He just had to find it. He'd make a way out. But before that...
"Leon!" he screamed, rocking back and forth. "You still here? Hey! Le-"
A dark shape burst from the dusty, smoky haze, tearing toward him. The knot in his chest loosened. Leon. He'd stayed, which sucked, but at least...
At least he was still here, alive and moving.
Leon skittered, dodging wide as a timber fell from overhead. Owl cursed under his breath, shooting a look at the ruined wing. You could stop this, he screamed silently. There's no reason for it. You're Alexandria. You're the Library. You could stop all of this.
Just like it hadn't stopped Lenny from blowing up the lab. Owl's breath caught in his throat. This was what Alexandria did, he realized. It didn't matter that it could. He was the Librarian.
And it chose to make him do it, instead.
Banishing the thoughts, he threw his hand out toward Leon, who was even then dashing across the ruined study. "Leon!" he screamed again. "Here!"
As if Leon hadn't already been running for him, he thought wryly. Even still, Leon seemed to zero in on him, running all the faster.
His hand slapped down into Owl's a heartbeat after. He stumbled, all but falling, and the two went down hard.
Okay, Owl whispered, his shoulder pressed into Leon's. His thoughts had already shot free, envisioning the space around them. Now that he knew where Leon was, now that he didn't have to worry about locking his friend out in the mayhem...now he could work. Don't kill us, Alexandria. Please. I don’t know why you’re doing this, just...just...please.
A shield. His mind traced out the barrier they needed, spreading from a point over their heads. Iron. Delicate bars that'd sprout from open air, falling in an arch to plant against the floors. There'd be plates to connect the whole lot of them, blocking out glass and fire and any of the other destruction being wrought about him.
He heard Leon hiss, his voice tight with terror, and felt him draw in closer to Owl's side. His hands clutched at Owl’s.
Owl squeezed back, his head pounding. "It's okay," he whispered. "I'm...working. We're okay."
"Y-Yeah," Leon squeaked, little more than a breath of air.
When Owl cracked one eye open, the world around them was dark - and quieter, somehow. Good. He didn't have to stretch out a hand to know his shield had worked. Not when the angry clatter of glass and lumber crashing down over it echoed around their tiny enclosure.
They were safe. The next step was down. Owl bit his tongue, holding the image of the wing in his mind. The room had been trashed. That much had been very, very clear
from his final images before the shield went up. There was little he could do to fix that from behind the barrier - but he wouldn't tolerate fire in his Library.
Slowly, carefully, Owl sucked a narrow stream of air between his lips. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut the whole time, ignoring the nervous quivering of Leon’s hand against his. More. More. There were fires burning still, big or small. They'd need fuel to keep burning. Not on his watch.
The metal around them groaned, shifting under the changing pressures in the wing, and Leon jumped. Owl nudged him, still drawing in air.
When his lungs were full and the air out in the wing was as inert as he could make it, he let it huff back out - and let the skies open.
The roar of water crashing down across the wing resounded through the narrow chamber. Leon yelped, the sound almost lost amid the din. Owl kept pouring it out, kept the water flowing until the smell of dank, musty wood filled his nostrils. When he finally let it go, a sigh slipped between his lips.
He rocked forward, his head spinning. His hand was empty again. Someone grabbed his shoulder. "Hey," Leon said. "Hey. Come on, there."
"...I'm...I'm fine," Owl mumbled, swallowing over and over again. "Should...be good."
"Are you sure?"
Owl chuckled, the sound echoing in his own ears. "Not really. Let's...figure it out. Let's go."
"How?"
Fighting back a groan, Owl thrust his hand out. A narrow, cold metal handle appeared under his fingers. "Come on," he murmured. And then he twisted hard, pushing the makeshift flap open.
Crawling out into the open air, Owl stood, reaching back to help Leon up. The man rose, almost as unsteady as Owl himself. His skin was coated in dirt, and a line of blood had soaked through his brassy hair from a gouge somewhere underneath, but he grinned nervously at Owl. "S-So. So that's a thing. That happened."
"Yeah." Owl glanced around, still fighting off the waves of wooziness that crashed down over his head. The damage, then. How bad was it?
Bad. His fingers tightened. Most of the shelves around the wing had toppled over. A few pillars had been broken through, like he'd spotted, which left the rafters drooping and dangling in patches. The beautiful glasswork of the windows overhead had been ruined, shattered into a million pieces and left to scatter across the heaps of upended, discarded books. He'd never seen destruction of its kind before. Certainly not in his Library.
"Jesus," he heard Leon whisper next to him. "Jesus Christ. Owl. This...this is-"
"It's okay," Owl mumbled, wobbling his way through the mess of it and leaving their makeshift shelter behind. A chunk of wood from the rafters had fallen over the dome he'd built, big enough to crush both of them. His lips tightened. Alexandria really wasn't pulling her punches.
"What was the point of this?" he whispered. "I get that you're confident in my abilities, but even still-"
"What's that?" Leon said, drawing closer.
Owl shook his head. "Nothing." Little by little, he was starting to regain control over himself, slowing his pulse and steadying his hands. The aching exhaustion never left him, but he didn't expect it to. He turned toward the nearest wall instead, beckoning Leon after him. "Come on.
"W-What?" Leon said.
Owl stepped toward the blank wall, narrowing his eyes at the patch of still-dripping stonework. They'd never make it to the normal exit, not with the mess that lay between them. Some help? he whispered, unable to keep the icy note from his mental voice.
The wall shimmered, then moved, the stones rolling in place. A door appeared as if from within the blocks themselves.
Owl heard Leon stumble away, heard him cursing under his breath. "Stop freaking out," he said, trudging forward. "We're...we're fine."
"Right out of the stone."
"That's what it does, yes." Owl grabbed one of the handles, giving an almighty tug - and exhaled, managing a smile. The hallway outside was clear and smoke-free, just as pristine as ever. "Come on."
Leon pushed past him, hardly waiting for any encouragement, and collapsed against the far wall. His cloak billowed around him, masking his form.
"You're all right?" Owl said. He followed on Leon's heels, albeit more slowly, but turned back to face the room. With a long groan from the hinges, he slid the door shut.
"I...I think so," Leon said. "Jesus Christ."
Owl chuckled hollowly. "Right?"
"Those absolute idiots."
"You know," Owl said, his hand resting on the latch. "I've always wondered how much it'd take to knock those things over. Not sure I'd have chosen to test it this way, but...better them than me?"
He glanced back to Leon - and found the man staring at him, eyes wide and strained.
They both burst into laughter. Leon bent forward with the force of it, his arms wrapped around his knees. Owl leaned backward into the door, still shaking his head.
It wasn't funny. He knew that. No damn part of this had been funny. But they'd survived, and both of his idiotic charges had survived, and somehow laughter just seemed like the right response. Or the only response. And so he let it bubble up through him, not bothering to try and maintain any sense of decorum as the anxiety and terror fled them both.
Finally, when it slowed, Owl let his head droop forward. "Goddamn idiots," he said. "Fucking hell. I leave them alone for, like, half an hour, and they...they do this." His hand slapped against the wood of the door.
"Yeah."
"Jesus Christ."
"That's what I said," Leon said with a snort.
Owl stepped away, then, letting his fingers slide away from the wood. "But...oh well." He wet his lips, pulling himself upright. "I guess...I should go make sure Alan didn't hurt himself too badly. Fucking idiot."
"What will you do with...that?" Leon said, more quietly. Owl glanced down. He was watching the door, a wistful sadness in his eyes. "It was so pretty, too."
"The room?" Owl said. He turned his gaze back to the portal. "That's...it was pretty ruined. Normally, I'd fix it myself. That?" He shook his head.
"Then...is it gone?"
Owl smiled too, then, his eyelids drooping. "I don't know."
"W-What?" Surprise filled Leon's voice.
"Maybe Alexandria will heal it herself," Owl said. "Maybe we'll see it again, someday. She can, you know. Anytime she wants." It wouldn't even be hard.
"Oh," Leon said.
Owl shrugged. The wood of the door was already starting to fade, to sink into the stone. His eyes lingered on it, watching the grain fade out to nothing. "Or maybe not," he said, turning back to Leon. "Maybe she'll retire that room. It's just a study, after all. It's nothing special."
"I wonder where all these rooms came from," Leon said, teetering forward and clambering to his feet.
Owl blinked. "What?"
A grin spread across Leon's face. "You know. All these libraries, and all these offices, and labs, and gardens." He took an unsteady step forward, running his hand across the stone. "Were they real? Did they come from somewhere? Was that someone's life's work that just got ruined by two drunks? Or is it all just a figment of your Library's magical imagination?"
Owl stared after him, Leon's words echoing through his mind. "I don't know," he said at last. "I've...I wondered about it, now and then. But I don't...I don't know."
"Huh. Just wondered," Leon said. "Uh...should you-"
"Alan," Owl said, snapping straight again. "Right. Uh...see you next time?"
"I'll hang around," Leon said. "Little too wired to go back to sleep. But maybe in a bit."
"Gotcha," Owl said. "We'll see, then."
Leon grinned - and gave him a tiny, jaunty wave.
Owl turned away before Leon could drop his hand, his mind already turning to the next tasks - the first aid he'd have to perform, the lectures, the explanations. None of which he'd wanted on his plate for the day.
A smile tweaked at the corners of his lips. Well, maybe he could put this to use, at least. Picking up speed, he swept back toward the Library's hearts
.
What a bunch of damn idiots.
- Chapter Twenty-Five -
Heavy weariness clung to Owl's limbs as he trudged back toward Alexandria's heart. The worst was past - but now, he was left to clean up to mess.
A task he very much did not want.
"If you don't mind," he whispered, after the twists and turns of the hallway grew too tiresome. Alexandria groaned around him, a glimmer of a breeze drifting through like a sigh. But when he rounded the next corner, it was the sitting room that lay before him.
The chairs were already occupied. Alan sat slumped in one, his face twisted in pain. Dylan was halfway through the process of peeling his sweater away one scrap at a time. He might not have been the one burned, but his eyes were tight.
Both stiffened at the sound of footsteps. Owl held up a hand, not slowing his walk. "Don't get up. Alan...don't move."
"Don't...have to tell me twice," Alan mumbled, his teeth clenched.
"C-Can you help him?" Dylan stammered.
Amazing, Owl thought with a tiny, wry smile. Both of them had gotten shockingly far in their cups in the brief time Owl had been away - and yet, Dylan's voice sounded halfway back to sober. It turned out, dropping a building on your own head does wonders for one's sobriety.
"Don't worry," was all he said, continuing to a cabinet sitting against the far wall. Any other day, he'd have gotten beverages or snacks from the cabinet. Now, though...
Do you mind?
The door creaked open at his touch, revealing a slim white case. Owl nodded. Thanks.
His footfalls slow and ponderous, he strode back to the chairs circling the fireplace. Tired as he was, a spark of curiosity lit within his mind. Injuries within the Library were...rare. Exceedingly rare. Lenny might have gotten a bit of an involuntary tan from his escapades in the lab, but even that was a passing pain at best. And he might pull a muscle or cut his finger on a page, but such minor hurts would vanish in a night's rest regardless.
So how did this work? Would treating the injuries on their spirit-selves mend the pains they were feeling? Or would they continue feeling the pain for the remainder of the stay? Would their wounds follow them into the outside world?