by Casey White
Olivia shrank back, her eyes tightening. He could see the hurt glistening within their depths. He just couldn’t bring himself to care. She’d used him. That much had become painfully apparent. She’d worn him down, worked past his defenses until he let them slide. And then she’d tried to seal the deal.
They’re probably not lying, the insidious whispers in his mind pointed out. It was a dreamer. A magical storm. A storm that you caused yourself, not them.
A pang of guilt shot through his chest - one he dismissed with a clenched fist. They’d- They’d distracted him. They’d come to his Library with their own plots and plans and they’d kept him playing their games until he let Alexandria down.
It was their fault, not his.
Acid burned in the back of his throat. Owl swallowed hard, shaking his head one last time, and stepped back.
“Give me your notes,” he said. There wasn’t an ounce of softness left to the words.
Will and Olivia froze. They glanced to each other, unmoving.
The irritation in him burned brighter. If they’d been toying with him personally, there was no telling what else they’d been up to while his back was turned. Will had been up to something. Olivia was buying him time, he was sure. He needed to know why. “Now.”
Olivia licked her lips, her face bone-white. “O-Owl, why do you-”
“Did I stutter?” Owl said. Each word seethed with barely-contained frustration. The fire in the hearth dimmed, burning low. The paintings on the walls rattled. The whole room seemed to chill, as though his darkening mood sucked the life out of the Library itself. “Give me your notes. Now.”
Olivia and Will shrank back, drawing closer together - and what little color had remained in their faces bled away as they watched the books in their shelves start to tremble and shake.
Will was the first to break the tension of the moment. He scrabbled at his pocket, pulling out a narrow, leather-bound notepad. “H-Here,” he said, thrusting it toward Owl. “It’s- You can take it. It’s just- It’s my research. Please don’t-”
Owl turned away from him, facing Olivia - who hadn’t moved. He held his empty hand out, still eerily silent. He’d said everything he wanted to.
Slowly, each movement heavy and deliberate, Olivia took out a matching pad, and passed it over to Owl. “I meant it,” she whispered. “All of it. I never wanted to-”
Owl turned away, flipping through the first journal.
What he saw...disappointed him. It was all so mundane. What did you expect? his thoughts screamed. Conspiracy plans? A log of everything they pulled when your back was turned?
That much would’ve been nice. Instead, he was greeted with neatly-ordered lists of what looked like villages, each marked with dates that meant nothing to him. Owl flipped farther in, masking a growl. All he found was more of the same.
The second journal was no better. Owl paused a moment, clutching them in his hands still. Olivia and Will waited before him. Both were all but quivering with anticipation. This was their work, after all. The fragments of data they’d spent their hard-earned time collecting. They wanted it back, naturally - and he hadn’t found anything suspicious.
Owl shook his head again. Just because he didn’t recognize anything as being suspicious didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Maybe they’d written in code. Maybe the two journals were connected, somehow, or the lists meant more than he knew. He couldn’t be sure. Something in him still screamed that they’d done something while his back was turned.
And since the two had already proven where their loyalties lay, he couldn’t trust them. Not anymore.
Crossing the room in two steps, he made up his mind in an instant - and threw both journals into the fire.
Olivia and Will surged forward, their cries echoing about the sitting room. Owl snapped his fingers. The flames exploded, filling the hearth. The journals vanished from sight before they’d made it more than a single step.
“Why would you do that?” Will whispered. “W-What the hell? That was all of my-”
“Get out,” Owl said, still watching the flames dance.
The sitting room went silent. No one moved. It didn’t even sound like they were breathing.
“Owl,” Olivia whispered. “Let me fix this. Let me-”
He didn’t say a word. But he turned his head, glaring over his shoulder at them. She stopped.
Even letting them go was a risk, he realized. It’d be safer to wipe them clean, erase every moment of their visit. There’d be no question, then.
Something flickered at the edge of his vision - an end table, hidden from sight behind one of the room’s overstuffed chairs. A panel had popped up on its surface, revealing a vial beneath.
Owl stepped closer, exhaustion wiping out even the ache that still filled his limbs. Letting one hand glide along the smooth wooden table, he reached for the vial and-
For a moment, the smell of chocolate wafted through the room.
Owl froze, his fingertips resting against the glass. Was this how it’d happened? He remembered this room, certainly. He remembered waking up here, with...with her in front of him. Was this what she did too? he whispered to Alexandria. She didn’t reply.
He stared down at the vial, his thoughts racing. This would be safer. It would eliminate any question, any worry. He’d be safe. Whatever they’d hoped to gain from tormenting him, it’d be wiped clean.
But he’d have done what she did. He’d have followed right in her footsteps.
His fingers traced out the edge of the vial’s top - and then he closed the panel again, lifting his head. Olivia and Will were still watching him, aghast.
Owl pointed toward the exit. At his gesture, the bars rose, retracting into the ceiling. “Go,” was all he said.
Again, the pair hesitated - but when he took a step forward, the lights dimming ominously, they turned.
Reluctantly, they began to walk.
None of them spoke. The only sound to mark their passage was the low padding of their feet against the stone. Owl still simmered, his loathing almost too much to bear. For them, toying with him this way. For himself, letting himself become so vulnerable. For letting himself become so distracted he failed Alexandria.
When he glanced back, casting an eye toward the main hallway behind them, all that showed between the bars of the gate was...nothing. Just a blurred emptiness, a void where his Library should be. He shivered.
He could fix her. He’d put her back together.
Somehow.
It didn’t take long. Before he’d so much as collected himself, they were there, stepping over the threshold into the Library’s entrance. A low, humorless chuckle burst from his throat. Alexandria was alive - and she was expecting them, clearly. The front doors were already open and waiting, crackling with a venomous energy to accompany their usual blinding light.
Both Olivia and Will came to a stop - but when Will took another step forward, filing toward the exit, Olivia whirled back to face him. “Owl, please,” she pleaded. “Let me- Let me make it up to you. Let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” Owl said, folding his arms. “You played stupid games. This is your prize. Leave.”
“I’m sure Indira will be able to-”
“I don’t want to speak to Indira,” Owl said, spitting the words from between his clenched teeth. “She has no business here.” He wasn’t sure why, but even the guildmaster’s name was enough to send a fresh ripple of annoyance through him. She’s got her fingers in all of this. Even if Olivia was acting alone, it was to impress Indira. Bedding the Librarian would be sure to vault Olivia straight into Indira’s good graces.
It all made him sick.
“S-She can fix this,” Olivia whispered. “I’m sure she can. If you’d only let us-”
“The Library is closed,” Owl said, each word ringing with finality. “Leave.”
Olivia’s eyes went wide. When will you open it again? He could see the question written across her face, right there on
the tip of her tongue.
He didn’t know the answer.
Even if Olivia was still holding onto hope, Will had clearly gotten the hint. When Olivia opened her mouth again, he grabbed her elbow, tugging on her arm until she drooped. He looked up, then, his shameful gaze locking onto Owl’s. “I’m sorry, Librarian,” he murmured, letting his eyes drop again.
He turned away, and this time, Olivia turned with him.
Owl watched, statue-still, as the two crept toward the door. The light flared brighter still around them, reducing them to mere silhouettes.
And then they were gone.
Owl stood there, waiting in the center of the grand chamber. His eyes lingered on the doorway, on the light that filled the entryway through its portal. Slowly, with a long, drawn-out creak, the door eased itself shut.
The click of the latch closing rang across the silent room.
There he stood, still staring at the door. His chest ached, with more than just the hurts of the day before. Had he been too brash? Had he leapt to conclusions, or should he have reacted more strongly?
And where did he go from here?
He couldn’t bring himself to move. The thought of going back into the ravaged wings set his gut to churning. He’d have to, soon enough.
But just for a while, he could stand there, surrounded by the dark in that quiet room, and think.
- Chapter Forty-One -
Owl lifted the book, slotting it into his new home.
His hand lingered on the spine, pressing it carefully until it sat perfectly even with its neighbors. A smile crossed his face at the sight of the completed row. “One more down,” he said. “Looking good, Alex.”
A glance behind him put a damper on his momentary cheer, though. His wheeled cart had never been so full before, stacked to the very limits of what it could carry. The message from Alexandria was clear - “Tend to me”.
He exhaled slowly, letting his chin lift. The sentiment from her was...understandable. The Library around him looked normal enough. To one of his visitors, it’d probably have seemed entirely mundane.
Owl was not an outsider, however, and he could make out the differences. The simplicity of the shelves around him. The low ceiling, only a scant few feet over his head. None of it was anywhere near her normal elegance. What had happened with the dreamer...it’d drained her. In a human, he’d have used the term exhausted.
Scowling, he strode to the back of the cart, picking up the handles with a grunt. Whatever term you used, the meaning was clear. Alexandria was hurting.
Underneath the mask he wore, he knew his cheeks were flushed. This was his responsibility. His mistake. She’d become so feeble because he’d failed her.
Never again. His hands tightened about the handles. He’d protect her, from now on. No matter what it took.
Faces flashed through his mind. Guests. Colleagues. Vulnerabilities. His eyes were razor-sharp, his lips pressed tightly together.
No matter who he had to keep out. He wouldn’t let her be hurt this way a second time.
The wheels squeaked under the load of their books. Owl jumped, the moment broken, and smiled faintly. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I know.”
That would be the challenge, he knew. However deeply Alexandria had been hurt, she was what she was - a library. She existed to be read. He couldn’t keep her closed forever. Eventually, he’d have to find a solution.
Owl paused, taking another moment to inspect the recently-finished wing. It looked...better. Better than it had when he’d arrived.
A pit still hung cold and heavy in his stomach. After Will and Olivia had departed, he’d rested. As well as he could, anyway. Even the warmth of the outside world’s sun on his face hadn’t been able to lighten the dark cloud settling over him.
And after he’d come back, venturing into the Library itself, the magnitude of the task before him had become apparent. Standing in the sitting room, the area deeper inside had looked blurry and blank - a perception which held true as he worked his way in.
When he entered a new wing, it would start out just like he’d seen. Blurry. Hazy. As though it wasn’t entirely there. But as he toiled at each shelf, its outline would brighten, becoming more coherent. He’d picked up on it almost immediately - his attentions, having his eyes on Alexandria and his efforts spent on her, were putting her back together.
So here he was. And here he’d stay, until she’d regained her footing. There was no way he’d open the doors to visitors while she was still struggling.
And after that? Owl sighed, leaning into the cart until the wheels begrudgingly started to turn. After that...he’d figure out what came next.
The guild, though? His lips curled into a scowl. He couldn’t picture forgiving them, not so easily. Maybe in time, when he’d been able to process. Maybe after he’d spent some time cooling off, looking after Alexandria and venting to-
Again, the wheels screeched to a stop. Owl stared ahead, eyes darkening.
Leon. He was standing here dreaming about Leon, after he’d just been toyed with.
Even that’s too risky, his thoughts whispered. You’ve been burned once already. Close him out. Return to how things should be - just you and Alexandria.
His throat tightened, closing up. He should. He knew he should. But...it was Leon. He’d been visiting the Library for months, at this stage. Months that had passed without incident.
Alexandria had sent him. She’d all but forced Leon on him. Would she have done that if he was dangerous? She seemed reckless, yes, and completely unbending when it came to getting her way, but he couldn’t believe she’d set him up to fail like that. Nodding to himself, he pushed the cart back into motion, edging it toward the next doorway.
Besides. Owl’s cheeks warmed gently. A tiny smile curled at the corners of his lips.
He liked Leon. Enough to risk it.
Just this once.
The doors opened when he pushed the cart into them. Owl stepped into the study beyond - and froze.
Shelves. They stretched from floor to ceiling, rising high to a broad-timbered roof tall enough to be dizzying. Catwalks lined the front of each rack, dotted with ladders to lead between them. Lanterns hung from each corner, filling the air with a warm, cozy light.
Owl stared, dumbfounded - and then, safe behind his mask, he started to grin. She was trying. It was far from perfect, still. Things were still too blurry, as though they were only half-formed. His eyes kept sliding off what books lined the shelves, and beautiful as it was, he knew the dim lighting was as much to hide the imperfections as to please him. Things hadn’t been fixed so easily.
But Alexandria was trying. For him. And there, grinning foolishly up at the endless rows of books, he couldn’t help but think it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Whatever the future brought, there’d be an answer somewhere within her winding halls. He’d find the way forward, away from the Booklenders and their machinations. He had Alexandria, and she had him.
Together, nothing would stop them.
Owl stood a moment longer, smiling into the beauty his Library had made for him.
And then he got to work.
Acknowledgments
Holy crap, we finally made it.
This has been a ride and a half! I’ll admit, part of me gave up on ever seeing this project through. For those who might not be aware, The Library was my very first serious attempt at a novel, back when I started writing. That initial version had a lot of problems and flaws that eventually made me give up on it entirely, but here two years later, I’m so happy that the second version has come out smoothly so far.
My first thanks for this have to go to Connor Gray and Jessica Hicks, who have been my beta readers and helped me work through this. They’ve also been my friends, of course, but that’s just a minor detail, right? To the both of you - thank you for the constant emotional support and advice on this project. Your advice and opinions continue to be invaluable.
To Alex Ra
izman and Potato, along with the rest of the community on /r/RedditSerials, your company is a constant source of humor and joy to me. Thanks for being there to make the road just a little more easily traveled. It’s been a wonderful journey over the last few years.
My final and biggest thanks has to be to my community, both on /r/Inorai and those who go the extra mile and support me on Patreon. Without the constant support (and occasional needling) of everyone, it’s likely that this project would have never risen from the ashes. You being here gives me the power both emotionally and financially to do things that I never could by myself. You keep me going, and I cannot express often enough how much I appreciate that.
Unfortunately, this book has my usual scope creep syndrome - so we’re not through yet! I’ll see all of you soon enough with part two!
If you have a spare moment, please consider leaving an honest review for this book!
Customer reviews are the bread and butter of an independent author, and it makes far more of a difference to this book’s success than I can express. It’s more helpful than sales, even! If you do choose to help out the book and I, then thank you so much.
- - - - -
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Keep reading for a preview of The Librarian, book two of The Library!
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The Librarian
- Chapter One -
Owl hugged a book to his chest, lifting his chin. The walls rose high around him, as well-stocked with tomes as the day he’d first arrived. A smile curled at his lips beneath the mask he wore. He’d done it - if not entirely, then he was close. Life was back to normal.
Almost. But even if it wasn’t completely there, he had enough time.