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The Undercover Witch

Page 10

by Gina LaManna


  “Yes, well…” The head librarian sniffed. “I suppose that was excusable, but we generally do not allow magic within our walls.”

  “Except in the Indigestion and Severe Stomach Issues section upstairs,” Millie added. “We’re a little more flexible there.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Who in their right mind browses the Indigestion and Severe Stomach Issues section of the library during normal business hours? Isn’t that what Amazon is for—to buy embarrassing items from the comfort of your own home?”

  “Why, of course!” Millie’s eyes gleamed. “It’s a way to keep foot traffic out of the magical section of the library. No human has ever stepped foot in there because it’s far too embarrassing! Witches and wizards only. We don’t even need a spell to keep out the normal folks; it’s all-natural protection.”

  “I’ll say,” I muttered. Keeping my voice quiet, I shifted my gaze and nodded upstairs. “What sort of books do you keep in the magical section?”

  Millie almost twirled in excitement. “Oh, Ainsley. Everything you can imagine. The history of our people, all the way back to the beginning of time. Any story you can imagine, it’s there.”

  “Stories of kings and princesses?” I asked.

  “Everything you can imagine,” she said again, eyes glittering. “Come on, I’ll show you. May I, Miss Flutterbing?”

  “We’ll end the tour there,” the head librarian said begrudgingly. “Millie, please show your friend around.”

  Millie spent the next hour and a half explaining every single aisle of the library. I grasped about ten percent of it, but I figured the signs on the wall should be enough to guide me when I inevitably got lost.

  “Here’s where you find the returns,” Miss Flutterbing said sharply, waving a hand in front of my face to pull me out of my daydream. “Make sure you file them in the order I described.”

  “I’ll help you,” Millie whispered at my terrified expression.

  I squeezed her hand. “You are a lifesaver. Thanks again for getting me the job. I know I’m not the typical staff here, but I’ll do my best.”

  Millie’s laugh tinkled softly, as if it were made for the library. “Oh, we don’t have a type, Ainsley. You fit right in.” She winked. “Just do the tasks the librarians give you, try to show up on time, and do your best not to bring a broomstick. At least leave it outside if you’re going to fly.”

  “That concludes the first day of training,” Miss Flutterbing said. “Let’s have you start on Monday, a week from today.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Schedule a few more trainings with Millie this week so come Monday, you’re ready to go,” she said. The eyes underneath that wild hair stared intently at the both of us. “Now, Millie, please show her the upstairs section.”

  Millie stifled an excited noise in her throat and grabbed my hand, dragging me up a winding staircase to the second floor of the library. At first glance, nothing seemed different.

  “This section is just a continuation of the downstairs.” Millie gestured to a few shelves, then continued the motion to include a few private rooms, some tables and couches, and communal desks. “It’s a bit more of a chatty area. Students come here for group projects, community members host book clubs, those sorts of things.”

  Continuing without hardly a pause, Millie dragged me toward the back wall. A floor-to-ceiling window spanned one entire wall of the second floor, casting a sunny glow over the entire level. Millie didn’t stop at the desks or the cubbies, and she didn’t stop at the Parenting for Dummies section, either. She continued on and on, deeper and deeper into the rows of books until I wondered whether I’d ever be able to find my way out.

  A bit breathless, Millie turned around. “Quite a maze, yeah?”

  Sucking wind, I nodded back; I’d never known books to be a cardio activity and figured I should probably hit the gym a bit more in my time off from MAGIC, Inc.

  “We arranged it that way on purpose. Apparently, we’ve organized it too well—I can’t tell you the number of folks, both magic and human alike, that I’ve had to fish out of here come closing time.”

  “I can’t imagine many people find themselves here on accident.”

  Millie laughed. “You’d be surprised.”

  As we walked, I examined the shelves around me. Eventually, my eyes settled on the sign I’d been looking for: Intestinal Issues and Severe Stomach Struggles. Next to the words was a stick-drawn figure bent over a toilet. “Is this where you’re taking me?”

  With bated breath, Millie nodded. Then she stepped forward, dragging her fingers along one shelf of books with titles of medical terms I hoped to never understand. A wall of thick, sturdy books blocked our paths.

  “Dead end,” I said staring ahead. “How do we get inside?”

  “Watch.”

  Reaching a finger gently before her, she ran it along the spine of one particularly worn book in the middle of the highest row.

  “What am I watching?” I asked a few seconds later when nothing had happened.

  “Wait.”

  I waited, and just when I was getting impatient, the shelving unit split away, parting down the middle with a jagged array of books on either side. Manuscripts swung haphazardly from the shelves as they pulled away from one another, the sides fitting together like two puzzle pieces.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Millie giggled with excitement. “Come on, I’ll show you around. I bet you never expected this in a library.”

  As soon as I put one shoe past the entrance, I felt as if I’d fallen hundreds of years back in time. In the human portion of the library, the computers and sleek tables lent a modern feel; users beeped through auto-checkouts while students huddled over cell phones and monitors.

  Glancing down at my phone, I watched the bars of service vanish. No cell service, and no computers either, from what I could see. I glanced around, wondering if much of anything in this section had been updated after the 1500s.

  Shelves upon shelves lined the walls, each one tilted at an odd angle, full of too many books. Stacks of parchment and research material were piled high throughout the room, teetering towers held together by sheer wish power. Old mahogany desks with a sprinkle of dust provided a quiet working environment for the magical folks.

  Scanning the room, I noticed most of the witches and wizards were over eighty years old, and most of them wore the long, dark robes of scholars. Some of them had hoods attached to their robes and a colored ribbon lining the edge. The colors symbolized differing levels of competency upon graduation from one of the most prestigious wizarding schools in our world today: Cretan Durham Hall.

  It was said that exactly fifty percent of the graduates from Cretan turned out good, while the other fifty percent did not. As I scanned the ribbons of red and orange and yellow, I found myself wondering who was here for good, and who sought evil.

  “Isn’t it gorgeous?” Millie did a slow spin, her arms wide as if catching raindrops from the sky. She sighed. “I could live here.”

  The only light came from candles, the glow dripping from their magically enhanced flames. The halo of bright extended to the desks where fountain pens scratched out words at the hands of their owners.

  I squinted, searching for the far end of the room, but I couldn’t find it. The room stretched forward like an infinite tunnel, the end disappearing into a black hole like a telescope. “Where does it end?”

  “Come on,” Millie said. “I’ll show you.”

  She took my hand and walked me through the library, the hushed tones of research and reading heavy in the air. We walked for several long minutes as I struggled to absorb every section and title and piece of information along the way. Millie pointed out several sections she’d recently updated including SALEM—A History of Witches and a series of books called World Wars and What They Mean for the Magical Community.

  She pulled recommendations off the shelves for my bedtime reading until the stack in my arms grew too large, and I had to start re-shelvi
ng the books as she pulled them down.

  “This is as far as we go,” she said, turning around sometime later. “The rest is best left untouched.”

  We’d walked for nearly half a mile through the library, and the tunnel still didn’t have an ending. However, at our stopping place, the ceiling began to decline moving forward, the walls narrowing until the ending was nothing but a speck of black in the distance.

  I gestured forward. “Why does the hallway get smaller up ahead?”

  “It’s content that is difficult to access,” Millie said. “Think of it as controversial literature.”

  I spied a title reading: How To Give Up Magic and Live a “Normal” Life. This was followed closely by: Is Magic Causing Stress on YOUR Relationship?

  “They don’t want people giving up magic,” I commented.

  Millie shrugged. “There are so few of us left, why encourage the turn to human lifestyle?”

  I laughed, then set down the books I hadn’t been able to re-shelf and started on a few stretches to avoid a severe neck cramp. I put an arm above my head and was thinking I was getting old when my eyes caught sight of the ceiling.

  “What’s that?” I pointed to a trap door on the ceiling above me. A small string dangled temptingly above my head. “I thought the restricted content only went forward.”

  “Restricted but legal is in this hallway,” Millie emphasized the last word. “Up there? That’s the Illegal Literature section. Don’t get any ideas about that, Ainsley, I’m serious.”

  I frowned, my fingers itching to yank on the string and climb into the attic. “What sort of stuff is illegal?”

  Millie put a hand on her hip. “I told you not to go in there.”

  “I’m not going in there!” I told myself as much as I told Millie. “I’m thinking in terms of my job. If someone asks me, shouldn’t I be able to explain it to them?”

  “Tell them to mind their own business,” Millie muttered. “And I’d suggest you do the same.”

  I exhaled a frustrated breath through my nose. “I’m just going to keep wondering. Isn’t it better for you to just tell me?”

  Millie looked up from the book she’d stuck her nose into and frowned. “Fine, but you can’t get curious and go up there.”

  “I’m already curious, so what’s the harm in telling me?”

  She moved closer, the frown deepening even as her eyes grew brighter. Running a hand through her hair, she began to whisper in a hushed tone. “In there are the forbidden stories,” she said. “Stories of love and loss and scandal. The legends that are whispered about as truth—they’re locked away, so nobody will ever know if they’re true or not. They’re stories of good and evil where good doesn’t always win.”

  “See? That wasn’t so hard,” I said. “I just wanted to know.”

  “Then there are the prophecies,” she said. “An entire section, wall to wall of textbooks filled with prophecies from the old witches.”

  “They don’t make prophecies anymore,” I said. “That was outlawed a long time ago. Too much paranoia.”

  “These are the ancient ones,” she said. “I’ve never been up there, but I’ve heard the rumors.”

  “What sort of rumors?” My heart raced, and my voice caught in my throat, but I did my best to seem only mildly interested so Millie would keep talking.

  “They say when a prophecy is on the verge of coming true, the bindings of the book in which it’s written heat up.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Then, once it actually begins to happen, the book becomes so hot to the touch it’ll burn through the skin of a werewolf. Once the prophecy has completed its course, the pages disintegrate into ashes.”

  “Is that true?” I asked. “Who told you that?”

  Millie spread her arms, encompassing all the books in her gesture. “I hear things, pick up on them. It’s my job to read, and to listen, and to think.”

  I looked back up at the trapdoor. “That seems like a flimsy way to protect all of the forbidden stories.”

  Millie winked. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t try it either. I’ve heard the defenses behind that door are incredible.”

  “Like what?”

  “Some say there’s a sphynx as large as the pyramids of Egypt. Others say opening the door releases a plague of black smoke, toxic to inhale. Others say there is nothing guarding the door.”

  “Which do you think is true?”

  Millie shook her head. “I have no idea, and I hope you will never know either, Ains. I told you not to go up there.”

  “I understand,” I said. “Anyway, it seems like I have a lot of work to do.”

  We walked as we talked, emerging back in the spacious common area lit by the dancing light of candles. Out here, it was business as usual: books were read, words were written, and piles of discarded materials were created.

  “You don’t have to start today, but if you want to stick around and clock in for a few hours, make a few bucks, why don’t you help file some of the books?” Millie gestured toward the stack of books in the Return pile. “I have to take care of a few things in the human section, so if you like it here, you can stay. Up to you.”

  Since I had no plans the rest of the day, I shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Good. I’ll be back to check on you around closing time. I’ll tell Miss Flutterbing to clock you in; I’m sure she’ll be pleased that you’re sticking around. If you need anything, just come on out and ask. Technology doesn’t work in here, so you’ll have to come find one of us, but I won’t be far.”

  I pulled Millie in for a quick hug. “Thank you for all this,” I said. “I already like working here.”

  “I know we hired you on for the short term, just until the big fair, but there might be an opportunity to stay on afterward if you like.”

  “Well, I’m still hoping to be reassigned as a Guardian.”

  “Of course.” Millie smacked her forehead. “I knew that, but it never hurts to keep an open mind. Okay, I’m headed off to work now, have fun!”

  I watched as she ran her finger along the edge of a book on our side of the wall. The doors opened again, and she slipped out with a wink.

  After the doors swung closed, I moved to the pile of Returns. It was a big pile, and it would take me hours to plow through everything. So, I rolled up my sleeves and set to work.

  It was nice to be in a quiet, calm place. My brain could wander free as I filed and sorted and shelved gorgeous, old manuscripts. The only problem was that my mind kept returning to the trapdoor leading into the forbidden attic.

  An entire wall of prophecies. Surely one of them held information about the Frost King. I hummed and filed and sat on my hands when they itched to pull on the string to release the trapdoor. All afternoon, I wondered and hoped, and when I had to file a book near the trapdoor, my feet pulled me toward it, but I dutifully turned away and focused on the stack of Returns.

  If I went inside the forbidden section, I’d most certainly be fired before I’d even started my job.

  And that’s if I made it back out alive.

  Even so, I couldn’t help but wonder if the answer to all my questions was just out of reach.

  Chapter 17

  By the time I realized all the other witches and wizards had packed up their workstations and headed home for the evening, I was so close to clearing out the Returns pile that I picked up the pace in order to finish before Millie came back.

  When Millie finally poked her head in, she let out a low whistle. “That’s all you have left? Wow!”

  I grinned. “I really like working here!” I picked up a few more books, and this time it only took a few seconds for me to puzzle through where they belonged. Millie followed me as I put them back in their rightful place. “It’s getting easier and faster, and did you know there’s an entire section dedicated to cooking without magic? Who on earth would want to do that?”

  Millie’s grin grew brighter. “I’m so glad you don’t hate working here. I wor
ried you might.”

  “I mean, I am still hoping for the Guardian role, but in the meantime this is perfect. I’ll work through the book fair and see how things look after that. Maybe a full-time position wouldn’t be so bad if the Guardian thing doesn’t shake out.”

  Millie reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m happy to hear that, and Miss Flutterbing will be pleased, too. You did really good work today, Ains.”

  “My mom would be happy to hear that,” I said, picking up a few more books. “So don’t tell her.”

  Millie trailed me like a puppy as I brought another stack of papers to the research department. “I brought you something.”

  After tipping the stack into its place, I turned and found her holding out my broom. “Oh, thank you! I was going to grab it before I left.”

  “They’re locking up downstairs,” Millie said. “Why don’t you walk out with me?”

  I scrunched up my face. “I am really close to being done. I think I’ll just finish up quickly. You don’t have to wait.”

  “The library closed ten minutes ago,” Millie said waving a hand. “You really don’t need to work overtime.”

  “Is it against the rules?”

  She looked startled. “Well no, of course not. I just figured you had other plans for your evening.”

  “I’m happy to wrap up here and let myself out if that’s okay with you.”

  “Well, I suppose that’d be fine!” Millie fumbled her words for a moment. “But I probably shouldn’t leave you alone on your first day here. Normally, I’d wait here and help you—gladly—but I have dinner plans with someone.”

  “Someone?” I raised an eyebrow. “I like the sound of that.”

  She blushed, toeing the floor. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. It’s a first date. We met here; he saw me shelving books in the romance section, and it was a whirlwind after that.”

  “A whirlwind first date plan?” I asked a bit skeptically.

  “Yes,” she said. “Anyway, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. I don’t want to jinx it.”

  “Have fun,” I said, waggling my eyebrows. “I can suggest a book for you, actually. Romance, and the Magic Behind It.” I pointed to the nonfiction shelf behind me. “If you’re interested.”

 

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