by Casey White
“Next time,” he whispered, sliding the pad into a particularly-large pocket of his coat. “Next time, there’ll be longer.”
If Leon, James, and Maya were gone, there was nothing else out here for him. He pushed their stools back under the bar, turning for the main hall.
With the memory of the fire’s warmth still lingering on his back, he trudged after Olivia and Will.
- Chapter Thirty-Seven -
One more week.
He could do one more week.
“Pass a stack,” Owl said, reaching a hand out.
Olivia leaned closer to the books instead, narrowing her eyes like she could see through the covers into the pages themselves.
He waited, hand outstretched. Her fingers flew from spine to spine.
“Olivia,” he said more loudly, once it became clear she wasn’t listening.
Another handful of books slipped past her nose. She took another step farther down.
Owl rolled his eyes, crossing to the cart and taking a stack for himself. His foot came up, though - and he kicked her in the calf, ever so lightly.
Olivia yelped, jumping. She spun in the next instant. “Why would you kick me?”
“Pay attention,” Owl said. “I know you’re worried about your own research, but-”
“S-Sorry,” Olivia said. “Sorry. I’ll- I was just-”
“Breathe,” Owl said, pausing. The books in his arms left them just starting to ache. He shifted, fixing a tolerant look on his companion. “You still have time. But for now-”
“I know. I’m sorry,” she said, running her hands through her hair. Her face had gone pale, leaving her looking tight-drawn. “I still have to uphold our end of the deal.”
The deal with Indira. Right. Owl stared at her a moment longer, gauging the heaviness that seemed to burden her every movement, but she grabbed a book and turned away without another word.
He understood. Oh, he understood. It was a story he’d seen play out over and over again, through the myriad visitors that visited the Library. Everyone treated their stay like a fun adventure - right up until it came time to say goodbye. And the closer they got to the end, the more frantic they’d get.
“It’s not the end, you know,” he said, crossing to a new shelf to slot a book in. “You only signed up for a three-month stint. You’ll have to apply again, but-”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll come back,” Olivia said. A tiny, wry smile lingered on her lips. “But soon I’ll have to go home. And even if I get myself another trip, that one will come to an end too.”
“All things end,” Owl said.
He earned himself more of a true smile for his efforts, flashed back over her shoulder as she stuffed books into their homes. “Aren’t you the philosopher all of a sudden,” Olivia said. “Look, I-” She grunted, hefting another stack of texts. “I think- I’ll get all of this done, okay?”
“I know you will. I’m just-”
“Let me sulk,” Olivia said, putting another book back in its home. “If I want to do your chores while I look for my shit, that’s my problem, isn’t it?” She jerked her thumb back over her shoulder. “I’ve got the rest of this. Go do your thing.”
“It’s my job, not-”
“Go.” Her eyes narrowed on the final word. “You’ve already done too much. I don’t want you complaining to the guildmaster.”
“Okay, okay,” Owl said, holding his hands up and backing away. “If you want to do the heavy lifting, be my guest.”
“I am your guest,” she muttered.
He did laugh, then, shaking his head and turning. Fair point, that.
They’d spent most of the morning working their way deeper and deeper into Alexandria, hunting for this or that book that Olivia insisted was necessary for her research. He’d been through the whole business of it before. It was still Alexandria, and he knew that he’d be no more than a few minutes away from the central chambers if Alex was cooperating, but still. They’d covered a lot of ground.
And this far into the Library, it felt different. The air had a tension to it, like a low note just beyond the edge of hearing that wore down his nerves, like he’d left something undone for far too long. As much as he knew he should stay by Olivia, he couldn’t help it. He had to walk, to stretch the jitters from his legs.
Alexandria groaned around him, settling faintly. A light appeared, glimmering around the edges of the next shelf. He brightened, hurrying forward. Alex? What are you-
“Oh,” he whispered, straightening as he came around the corner. She’d pulled the wall right off the side of the Library, opening the shelves to a terrace like the world’s oddest bookstore-garden mashup. The first tendrils of sunlight pouring down across the stone looked absolutely divine. He smiled. “Perfect. Thanks.”
His tired steps carried him across the last of the aisles, until at last the stones disappeared from beneath him. Soft green grass replaced them, plush enough he ached to take off his boots and sink his toes into them. It’s just my feet, his thoughts screamed. What, is she going to hunt me down by the fact I’m white?
Rules were rules, though. He took another step forward, and then dropped into the perfect spot, caught between the shade of the Library and the sun of the blurred sky overhead. If he leaned forward, he could still see Olivia picking away at her tasks.
It would do. He let himself sink into the grass beneath him, resting his head back against the stone. He couldn’t sleep, not out in the open. But he could close his eyes for a while - and he did, letting the morning’s troubles fade away.
His fingers twitched. The sun felt nice. Too nice. It almost felt like being outside. Maybe, if he...
The wind responded to his gentle call, swirling about the courtyard and tugging at his hood. Thin tendrils slipped under his mask, up the sleeves of his coat. He sighed, smiling.
Not too obvious, now. Olivia doesn’t need a front-row seat to my magic. His hands stayed at his sides, hidden by the grass and his legs with only the tips of his fingers urging the breeze on.
The sound of footsteps against the stone broke through his reverie. His eyes opened again.
Olivia stepped out of the shadows of the Library, her face red and her hair soaked with sweat but a smile on her face. “Done,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Thought it’d never end.”
How long had he been sitting there? Owl tensed, going to stand up, but she hit the ground beside him before he could get even a single inch off the ground. Rather close to him, in fact. His skin prickled as her leg pressed against his - and her hand dropped to his knee. He tensed.
“This breeze is heavenly,” she murmured, letting her eyes slit shut. “Alexandria’s always a little stuffy, y’know?”
“I do,” Owl said, swallowing a chuckle. “Every now and then she’s a little nicer. Like now. You take what you can get most days.”
He’d have expected for the sun to bounce off a pane of glass or especially reflective roof tile, flashing in his eyes to blind him for his rudeness. He’d have expected her to turn the wall behind him hot from the day’s warmth, burning him through his coat. It would have all been par for the course for such rudeness from her Librarian.
Instead, she was silent. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. That was...odd.
Olivia’s hand was still on his knee, a strangely comforting weight. “If you’d told me I’d be spending my whole stay carrying around boxes of books, I don’t know if I’d have come,” she said.
Owl snorted. “Come on. There weren’t boxes of books. I gave you a cart.”
“So generous.” Olivia drooped, her chin sinking lower to her chest. “I thought, it’s a dream. I’m asleep out there after all, aren’t I? And you too.”
“Yep.”
“Right,” Olivia said. “If I’m sleeping, I’d have thought this whole thing would be a little more restful.
Owl turned his head far enough to fix a baleful, amused eye on her. “You know, I told you that you should fix your sleeping habits. There’
s still time. You could-”
“Quiet, oh wise Librarian,” Olivia said, laughing. Her hand slipped to his thigh, squeezing the crook of his knee gently to emphasize her words.
He smiled faintly. Normally, they’d go right into ribbing each other. Here, with the sun in her hair and her hand on his leg...it didn’t seem quite right, anymore. “You’ll have plenty of time to sleep outside,” he said, his voice soft.
Her lips pressed together, forming a thin line. “Right. Yeah.”
Idiot. Why would you remind her of that? Owl gave a quick shake of his head, his mind racing. Had to take back control of the conversation, fast. “I meant it,” he said. “You can come back, if you like.” The corners of his mouth quirked up. “You’ve been substantially less of a pain in my ass than some of you.”
Olivia smiled, just a hint of something bittersweet lurking beneath the surface of the expression. “Yeah. I know.”
Asshole. She already said- “And even...even if it doesn’t last forever, you’re still high up in the Booklenders, right?” He shrugged. “You can always come to Alexandria.”
“To the doorway,” Olivia mumbled.
“Well, maybe sometimes I’ll give you a peek through the door. See how Alex is doing.”
Olivia’s eyes snapped up to meet his, widening. They relaxed again a moment later. “You mean that, don’t you?”
“M-Maybe. We can talk about it. I just don’t want you to-”
“It’s fine,” she whispered. “That was the deal I...I don’t want you to go against that for me. Really.”
“But-”
Her fingers squeezed his thigh again, releasing a moment later to brush back and forth across the fabric. His skin twitched at the touch. He couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away. “I’m glad I got to see it,” Olivia said. Just a short while before, she’d seemed right on the edge of frantic about the matter. That was gone. Something else waited in its place. Resignation? “Even if it’s not forever. Even if I can’t come back. I got to see the Great Library. Just this once.”
“...Yeah,” Owl said at last.
Olivia’s head dropped to his shoulder. He flinched. She was right there, pressed up against his side. “This place,” she murmured. “I knew it’d be different, but I’ve never seen anywhere like it. Alex. It’s perfect. She’s perfect.”
Perfect, my ass. He wished he could tell her about all the times it wasn’t so picturesque - the times when Alex decided to lock him in rooms until he apologized for a rude comment, the doors she shut in his face. Alex was far from perfect.
But none of that seemed to matter. Alex was here, and she was special, and it was hard to articulate words when a headful of hair hovered inches in front of his nose. Olivia’s fingers kept brushing the inside of his thigh, almost absentmindedly.
“Y-Yeah,” he managed, the best he could do.
Olivia shifted. He had a moment’s warning before her head lifted - and her almost-black eyes met his. “I want to thank you,” she said.
Owl froze, pinned in place by the intensity in the look she was giving him. Where had it come from? Something had changed, he knew - he just didn’t know what. Or why. “W-What?” he stammered. “I mean, whatever it is, you’re welcome, but-”
“You put up with a lot from me, I’m sure,” Olivia said. Her eyes were on his, but her cheek still rested against his shoulder - and her hand was still on his leg. “You wasted a lot of time on my hobbies. You didn’t have to.”
“I-It’s my job,” Owl said. His cheeks were flushing, he knew. She was too close. He hadn’t- He really hadn’t expected this when he’d gotten up in the morning. “I was just-”
“Your job might be to tolerate my bullshit,” Olivia said. “You didn’t have to go out of your way. You did.”
“I’m just- As Librarian, I-”
“Jesus Christ, you’re thick,” Olivia mumbled, letting her head fall forward. When she lifted it again, that tiny, wry smile had returned to her lips. “You’re a good man, Owl. An idiot, but good. Smart. Considerate. Patient.”
Owl swallowed hard. “Thanks, but-”
“I like good men,” Olivia said, enunciating each syllable clearly. “And I like you.” Her thumb pressed gently into his inner thigh, climbing higher. The corners of her eyes crinkled. “Let me go back to the start. I want to thank you, Owl.”
Oh. The final piece slammed home with a click loud enough he was surprised it didn’t echo off the Library walls. “Oh,” Owl said.
Her lips curled up. “Oh.”
She was beautiful, the whispers in the back of his mind pointed out. And fun to be around. Filled with life. He certainly didn’t dislike her. So maybe
Owl flinched as she leaned in, sliding her hand up nearly to the crook of his leg. Shivers rippled up his spine. “O-Olivia. Wait. I didn’t help you so that you’d feel obligated to-”
“I’m not stupid,” Olivia said, her smile growing. “I’m a grown woman. I know how to be up front about what I want.”
“Y-Yes,” Owl said, licking his lips. She’d shifted by then, angling around his front until the two were seemingly inches apart. “You certainly do. B-But I’m the Librarian. So-”
“So what?” Olivia said. He bit back a yelp as her fingernails traced lines across his pants. “We’re both adults. This is the Library.” A chuckle slipped from her lips. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? Who’ll ever know?”
“Well, Will might-”
“Will isn’t going to bother us,” Olivia said, still smiling broadly. “He’ll know better than that. He’ll be holed up in the study if he knows what’s good for him.”
“Oh,” Owl swallowed again, warring with the flood of something washing through him. Stop acting like this is your first time flirting with a woman. This isn’t even your first fling. “B-But, I can’t- I’m the Librarian. I can’t take off my-”
“I really don’t think we need to take your mask off,” Olivia said, her voice filling with amusement. Her hand was roaming, by then, coaxing him on with tiny, whisper-soft touches. “We’ll manage somehow.”
“I shouldn’t,” he mumbled. But he didn’t pull away, either.
The low rumble of her laughter filled the space between them. “You married, Owl?”
He shook his head violently. “N-No. No. I’m not.”
“Got a lover, then?”
“...No.” Owl licked his lips, swallowing again. “Nothing...Nothing like that.”
It was true. He didn’t. Even in the outside world, that was one challenge he’d never been able to beat. Not for long enough to mean anything, anyway.
So why did it feel so much like a betrayal to say the words? Why did something unhappy burst to life in his chest?
He felt her hand working at the button of his pants. “Well,” she whispered, her face right alongside his. “You should enjoy yourself once in a while, then.” She chuckled again, low and soft. “If you don’t want to, I’ll walk away. None of this will have happened.” Her other hand slipped under the collar of his coat, curling about the back of his neck. “But you should hurry up and say so.”
Every fiber of his being bellowed to say no, to pick Olivia up and set her off him and hide himself deep in the Library’s halls until she left. That could be that. He could ask Indira to send someone else. He could tell himself she’d never come to Alexandria at all. Given enough years, he might even believe it. It was just so sudden, his thoughts shrieked. Too much. Too fast. It didn’t make sense.
Be careful, he heard a voice whisper, right on the edge of his senses and familiar enough to hurt.
It’d been so long, though. He’d been apart for so long, and nothing he’d tried had ever worked. No matter how he tried to tell himself it didn’t matter, or that it was just a matter of time, the same sight would swim up in front of his vision - a lonely grave marker at the ass-backward end of a lonely cemetery, forgotten by the world.
He knew it was stupid.
But when Olivia shifted, pressing her ch
est to his and swinging her leg across to straddle him, he didn’t say no. His hands were on her hips by then, pulling her closer still. She let him, sliding forward with a laugh.
Once they’d crossed the line, it was like the last of their reservations fled. Her hands swept across his chest, exploring the layers of leather and the muscles beneath. True to her word, she never reached for his mask. He slipped a hand under her shirt, pushing the hem up.
She made an impatient noise, twisting her arms over her head as she fumbled to work the garment free, and-
The silence around them shattered.
A wall of noise slammed across the courtyard, roaring like a freight train, like glass breaking, like metal sundered in two. It hit them like a physical thing, hard enough to leave Owl winded.
The wind followed in its wake - a wind that howled like a two-voiced beast, with an unearthly undertone whistling along with it. It didn’t come in waves or bursts that swirled around them. No, it was like an unending, unstoppable surge, as though the air itself had become a river that flooded over them.
Through it all, the bells tolled, bellowing out a warning that neither of them needed.
Owl gaped. Olivia shrieked, clinging to him. There wasn’t even an ounce of romantic intention left in the motion, the mood ruined by that sound and that wind more surely than if they’d jumped into an ice-cold pond.
All Owl could do was stare across the Library, wide-eyed and terrified, at the grand structure of Alexandria.
And at the crackling, seething storm of something that had exploded from its roof.
- Chapter Thirty-Eight -
Fire.
Owl stood frozen, his hands quivering as he stared across the expanse.
A fire. Fire in Alexandria. In his Library. Or-
Another plume of something blue and crackling fired from the roof across the blurred space, sending tiles shattering down across the outlying fields.
Not fire, then. His mind was oddly clinical in that moment, somehow separated from the raw panic that filled his every other thought. Fire was too simple a word. Too natural. Nothing about this seemed natural - not the seething masses of blue smoke and crackling bolts of lightning that flashed from within their depths.