by Casey White
Daniel squeezed the beautifully-fashioned book facsimile, running his thumb across the tiny metal pages. "You're still here," he murmured. "I get that. You're always here."
And yet, out in the real world, the Library felt...impossible. It felt like Alexandria was a world apart, like he'd been plucked out of his home and dropped into a distant world. It felt like his mind was his own, however little that meant. Inside, she could do...anything. Here?
He smiled, closing his hand about the pendant. Here, Alex was just a necklace. A magic necklace, it seemed, but still a necklace.
The breath slid from his lips as he exhaled slowly. Dust crumbled between his fingers - and the necklace was gone, vanished again. It didn't matter, he knew. She was still with him. If he reached for the necklace, it'd appear again, no matter how many times he played the game with it. She always came back.
"Damn it," he whispered, shaking his head and leaning back against the table. "It'd be easier if you'd just stay away, you know." He could be his own person. He could live his own life - he could have friends. Actual friends. He wouldn't have to feel like he was lying to Nate and the others.
Or to Leon. His eyes tightened. He could actually see Leon. In person, not in some fantastical realm and swathed away behind masks and thick leather coats. He could have a person in his life that he didn't have to keep lying to.
He'd...said too much to Leon, probably. That last visit. He'd been more open than was wise, certainly. Outsiders didn't need to know about the Librarian, or their predecessors. They needed to know about his own personal history even less. Daniel groaned, shaking his head.
And yet...Ever since he'd gone back to the quiet of his corners, lying wide-eyed on the bed until sleep finally found him, he couldn't get it out of his mind.
The sight of Leon staring back at him, horror and pity etched into his expression. His words still sang out again and again at the very edge of Daniel's hearing.
Owl, that sounds like kidnapping.
"What did you do?" Daniel whispered, one hand flat against his chest where the necklace would lay. "What happened, back then? Why the hell did you bring me into this?"
The wind rustled through the trees overhead. A bird screamed its song for the world to hear.
And Alexandria remained silent.
"This would be easier if you could talk," Daniel mumbled. He took a long, ragged breath, wrapping his hands about each other. "I'm...This is probably in the journals, isn't it. Hers."
A black mask swam before his face. He smiled hollowly. He should read them. He knew he should. He’d been leaving notes in his own journal when he could, and now and then he’d sift through one of his earlier predecessors, but...he still couldn’t bring himself to open hers.
And yet...whatever had happened, whatever the previous Librarian had done, they'd been in the same boat as him, wouldn't they? They were just another cog in the wheel of the Library, driven by whatever Alexandria demanded of them. They'd been a prisoner, just like him.
When he'd gone back to his quarters in an empty Library, he'd heard their voices - Alan and Dylan. He'd heard them scream as the room came down around them. He'd heard the pain in their voices, the terror. He'd seen Alan's wounds. All of it was avoidable. All of it. Alexandria had charged ahead instead, leaving him to clean up her messes.
"Am I just a tool to you?" he whispered. "Am I just a means to an end?"
His lips fluttered, shaping words he couldn't bring himself to voice. Was this what it'd be like for the rest of his life? Just an eternity spent running around at her beck and call, trying to hold their world together while she acted on her own? Was he to be her slave forever?
"I never asked for this," he whispered, the words quiet enough to be lost under the wind that drifted through the forested clearing. "I didn't sign up for this, Alex. It's not fair."
It's not fair. The words rattled through him, sinking all the way to his gut.
And there, with the rich smell of coffee still rising around him, he reached his decision.
* * * * *
Daniel opened his eyes.
Sturdy wooden rafters sprawled over him, speckled with fairy lights that glowed to life at his awakening. He lay there a moment longer, letting the misty sleep fall from his eyes. His fingers splayed back and forth, enjoying the soft plushness of the sheets that wrapped about him.
And then he pushed the covers back, rolling upright.
His door creaked shut only a few minutes later. Daniel crept out into the Library like a thief, clad in a t-shirt and plain grey sweatpants rather than his uniform. "Don't screw me over here, okay?" he said, casting a glance up at the walls. "I have...business. We need to talk. Leon's cool, but I...I need a minute. Don’t go letting anyone in, please."
He waited, watching, but got no outward sign of a response. That...would have to be good enough. Daniel sighed, turning toward the sitting room.
Rather than taking a seat, though, he only eyed the chairs wistfully - and strode out into the Library.
The hallway sprawled out before him. He kept walking, his slippers sliding against the smooth-cut stone. The words ran back and forth in his head, rearranging themselves as he tried to find the best way of phrasing what he needed. This was going to be a problem - but he did need it. He just needed to be smart, and be careful.
Finally, he came to a stop, right in the doorway of a particularly massive wing. "Okay," he whispered. "I know you're there, Alex. Like I said. We...need to talk."
A low breeze fluttered at the hem of his sleeves, pushing gently, but he plowed ahead. "I need to see what's out there," Daniel said. "All of it."
The wind stopped.
Not a great sign. "I know you don't like mages," he said. "I know you don't want anything to do with them, and you don't want them in your halls. I get that, and I'm fine with that. Only...I'm running blind here, Alex. I don't know anything, and...I can't live like this."
It wasn't just the wind that'd stopped, now. The entirety of the Library was dead silent, without so much as a door creaking or a shutter rattling to break the eerie quiet.
Daniel licked his lips, rocking gently on his heels. "I'm not- I'm not saying I'm going to act on anything. I don't want to do anything. But I need to know. About magic. About you. I need to be able to piece together the things that I never got taught, Alex. I need to be able to protect myself. I need to be able to make forward progress with something of my own. Something that’s mine."
He waited, glancing about the halls, but again, no response was forthcoming. "I need it," he whispered, faltering. "I think...it might not be today, or tomorrow, or anytime soon, but dammit Alex, I need something or I think I'm going to go crazy."
His hands clenched into fists. This time, when the silence fell, he didn't try and fill it with words, didn't try and negotiate his way out of the quiet. He stared straight ahead, a muscle in his jaw pulsating. Alex would listen, or she wouldn't. Either way, he'd said what he'd come to say.
The ball was in her court.
The seconds ticked on. His ears rang, filled by the unnatural silence that had fallen over the Library. And still Daniel waited, chewing on his tongue. It was like a staring contest, he thought wryly. Only here, he couldn't even see his opponent.
Just when he was about to break the silence and try again, the world went dark around him.
He yelped, jumping - but before he could say anything, a pale glow split the darkness. He spun.
All of the lights in Alexandria had been extinguished. Even the windows high overhead were pitch black, like the sun had been swallowed whole. But there, halfway down the hall, a single brazier shone with a sick, flickering ball of blue fire.
If he hadn't been spooked before, that certainly did the trick. He gaped for a moment, his eyes fixed on the unnatural light. He'd...never seen anything like that in Alexandria before.
His legs carried him forward through his mind's confusion, though. Alexandria's message was clear. Collecting himself, he hurried toward
the brazier.
No sooner had he pulled up even with the ball of blue fire than it winked out, casting him back into darkness. Again he flinched - but again, a light split the darkness from ahead of him. Another ball of fire glowed from over a brazier, farther down. Swallowing, Daniel charged forward.
One brazier flared to life after another. Daniel followed behind grimly. The pieces were starting to settle home. Alex was leading him somewhere, and there were only a few places they could go.
Of course, the fact he'd just come from this direction made the destination even more clear.
When the sitting room appeared in front of him, Daniel couldn't even pretend to be surprised. He just slowed, his eyes scanning the familiar room. "Alexandria?" he said, his voice low. Damn it, if this whole thing had been a ploy to get him to go back to his duties, he'd-
His door slammed open with a metallic screech. Daniel stopped, his eyes widening.
The sitting room went black. Even the fireplace went out.
A light flickered from within his quarters, dim and blue.
"Alex," he said, his voice sinking lower. "I don't want to go back to my room. I want answers. I deserve this much. So don't-"
The light flared brighter. For a moment, the sitting room was thrown into high relief. It faded back to a dim glow a moment later.
Daniel stared at the still-open door. His mind had gone quiet somewhere along the line. What did it come to, in the end? Did he trust Alexandria? Did he trust that she respected him enough to not brush him aside - or was this just another game she was playing?
What would it be?
"Okay," he whispered at last. "Okay, Alex."
He stepped forward, easing through the doorway and into his familiar quarters. They looked entirely different, with the fairy lights overhead cast into shades of blue. The whole room seethed in strange blues and greens, until he hardly recognized his own possessions.
The door creaked slowly shut behind him. The latch settled home, with the lock following suit.
He cast a glance back toward it. His face twisted, his lips curling down in a scowl. "Really? After all this, you're going to-"
The click was low, quiet enough that he almost missed it under the sound of his own voice. But he heard it - and he stopped, glancing over to the source.
A set of bookshelves rested against the wall, alongside the doorway. The journals of his predecessors rested on them, sprinkled with a thick layer of dust.
Only now, one of the bookshelves jutted out a fraction of an inch from its fellows.
He walked closer, his head spinning. When he rested his hand against the wooden shelves, it moved with him.
Daniel pulled. The tired, ancient wood shifted with a groan, swinging on hinges hidden behind the endless stacks of journals. His heart pounded in his chest.
There was a hollow behind them, he realized - a narrow passageway, barely wide enough for him to pass though. A set of metal bars stood in his way.
His eyes dropped to a lock hanging off the door set into them. "I'm the Librarian," he said. "You're going to lock me out? Really?"
His words had no bite, though, not when faced with the mystery Alex had just unveiled. His hand had already dropped to the keyring hanging from his waist. There was a lock - and he had a key. He was the Librarian. No door was locked to him.
As if in a dream, he raised the key that hung there, the key he used to open the Library to guests. It slotted in perfectly - and turned with a dull thunk.
The metal bars whined when he pulled on them. Rust coated the hinges, fighting against his tug. He planted his feet, pulling harder. It came open at last with an angry scream.
A lantern hung from a nail driven into the stone wall beyond. Blue fire glowed within its glass housing. Daniel reached out, lifting it off its peg. With every motion, it flickered, casting shadows across the entryway. He hesitated a moment longer, the unearthly light filling his eyes. And then he glanced toward the tunnel, away from the comforting warmth of his room.
Stairs descended into the black, narrow and curling into a delicate spiral. Daniel stared.
"Well," he said, grinning through the nervous pangs that filled his chest. "I guess I asked for this, didn't I?"
One step at a time, he started to descend.
- Chapter Twenty-Seven -
One hand braced against the wall for stability, Daniel descended.
Each step was a battle, a gamble with his reflexes to keep from tumbling down. If he fell...he eyed the stairs ahead, wincing. If he fell, he'd be hard-pressed to catch himself or get back up before he cracked his own skull open. The stairs sloped away at a fearful rate, each polished smooth and curled into a tight spiral. The lantern he held burned furiously with that unearthly blue fire, but there was only so much one lantern could do.
And still he climbed down.
How far did it go? He kept his eyes down, but the pounding of his heart increased. He hadn't expected anything like this to be underneath Alexandria, much less under his own room.
And the only reason he could think of for the passage to be located in the Librarian's quarters was so that any intruder would have to get past the Librarian to get in. The thought was less than comforting.
Down and down he went - and then, with his calves just beginning to ache and his feet quivering from the strain of keeping his balance, the staircase leveled out.
He froze, his free hand still flattened against the stone. There. The bottom. The stairs melted into the mostly-even floor a few paces ahead, stretching out into a landing. And...his eyes lifted. The narrow walls that pressed in around him fell away ahead, into a wider room too darkened for him to make out.
Grinning nervously, Daniel pressed his fingers into the wall. "Guess I'm here, huh?" he whispered. "Thanks, Alex. I know...I know you didn't want to."
She didn't want to, but she'd done it anyway. That restlessness still burned in his chest, but...it helped, to know that she hadn't turned him away. The smile on his face was a little more genuine as he continued on. A little more tender.
His tired feet moving on automatic, he stepped through the arch into the room beyond and raised his lantern.
The light flared at the motion, burning brighter. Daniel's eyes widened. He slowed, coming to a stop again. For a long moment, he just...stared.
Shelves. Books. He was the damn Librarian. Books were his job, and he certainly should be used to them by now. All he could do was gape, though.
The narrow passage had widened out, exploding into a sprawling cavern. The ceiling pressed in low over his head, tight enough to make him want to squirm, but the sheer size of it...He grinned nervously, twisting this way and that. It might as well have been a school gymnasium, transplanted into the underbelly of his home.
Shelves filled every available inch, from the floor to the ceiling. But where the other wings of the Library were crammed to the bursting with books, leaving him struggling to find room to squeeze new arrivals, each of the shelves here seemed oddly empty. And where the tomes outside had all been haphazardly thrown wherever they would fit, bereft of structure or organization...he leaned in, squinting at the nearest shelf.
All of the books on the shelf matched, like a set of encyclopedias. "This wing is different, then?" he murmured, raising a hand to stroke down the spine. "Why? And what does it all mean, Alex? I asked about magic." His fingers paused, sliding over the filigree coating the book. There was no author mark, he realized, not even a title. Most of the books on the shelf weren't even wide enough for a proper title. All they carried was a wispy drawing, like a medallion hanging from a chain, repeated from book to book along the set.
Daniel grabbed for the thickest of the books, pulling it free and flipping it open - but when he pawed through the pages, searching for any clue, all he found was a sheet with a person's name at the front, followed by chapter after chapter of what seemed like a biography. He made an irritated noise in the back of his throat, pushing it back onto the shelf, and lifted his la
ntern a little higher.
"They're all the same," he said, glancing down the row to the symbol marking every book on the shelf. The next shelf over was repeated - with a different symbol. "What is this, Alex? I don't understand. How does this relate? Are these- Are these all people? These are the mages out there?"
He'd looked up people's information often enough. Hell, he did it every time the Library had guests. He'd done it with Leon and James both. He could recognize a set of biographies when he saw it. "I guess I kind of expected there to be more than...than this. I wanted to know how it works, not just that they exist."
Faintly, he felt the floor rumble under his feet, like Alexandria had sighed. He smiled wryly. "Sorry. We just already came this far."
A candle flared to life at the far end of the room, burning with that same blue fire. Daniel stiffened, his eyes snapping to it. The narrow pillar of wax sat atop a reading desk, perched on an upper shelf alongside a tiny set of books. "There?" he said. His feet were moving before she could give any sort of reply, carrying him closer. The books were quivering, he saw, shaking like an earthquake rumbled that table alone. And- His grin spread at the sight of the title plastered in big, bold letters down their spines. The Basics. "Thanks," he said wryly. "Appreciate it, Alex."
Quickening his steps, he hurried down the aisle, closer and closer. Two dozen shelves flew past him, two dozen sets of pictogram-laden texts. His head swam. There were...so many. But then he stood in front of the desk, one hand on the chair and his eyes sweeping down the length of the spines.
Right there. His heart leapt. The answers he'd wanted, the door he hadn't dared open. He could still walk away, the thoughts in his head screamed. Someone had told him that, once. Stay away from their business, and they'll stay away from yours. Don't play with fire. Don't invite trouble.
Daniel shook his head, though, his jaw tensing. As long as he wasn't alone, as long as other magic existed in the world, he wasn't safe. If any of them learned of his existence, they'd come hungering after him and Alexandria. He needed to know what he was up against. He needed to see it. And maybe, just maybe, he’d start finding the answers to his own problems.