by H. Duke
And just like that, they were back in the Werner Room. She looked back through the gate. Noise from the other side came through, but it was distorted. She could hear people yelling angrily. The priest appeared, perfectly framed by the arch.
His eyes widened as he saw the gate. He crossed himself. “Witchcraft,” he muttered.
Inside the library, Dorian strolled over to the table where he’d left the book. He closed it, and the gate disappeared.
April stared for several seconds at the spot where the medieval alleyway had been only moments before. Her legs felt like jelly; they threatened to crumple beneath her. She was exhausted, but her heart was beating a million miles a minute.
She reached for a chair, and Dorian came, reaching for her as though to help her down, but she held up a hand at him.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, and he backed off. Suddenly feeling sick, she ran for the nearest trash can and vomited.
“Your body’s not used to crossing the veil yet,” he said.
Yet? She felt the bile in her stomach rise up again, but she fought it back down. “What do you want from me?” she asked when she felt like the danger of throwing up had passed.
“Mae hoped—”
“Enough about Mae,” April said. She could feel the intensity in her own voice. “She’s dead. What do you want from me?”
Dorian paused for several moments. Maybe he was thinking of what to say. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” he said. “But sometimes our destinies are chosen for us.”
“By who? You? Mae?” she waited for him to answer, but he didn’t. She turned her head back towards the library, seeing it for the first time. The double doors were open, and several chairs had been overturned. “The men, the collectors. They’re gone.”
Dorian nodded. “They can’t enter unless the Pagewalker gives them permission. A bit of magic Mae set up many years ago. They were pushed out when you became the Pagewalker.”
She shook her head. “No, I mean, they’re gone, now. Reverse it.”
“What?”
“Me being the Pagewalker. Take it back!”
There was a beat of intense silence. “I can’t. It’s done.”
She stood, looking at the grandfather clock that was sitting in the corner. It was five minutes past ten. “I have to go,” she said. “my shift is over.”
Dorian looked concerned but didn’t try to stop her. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” he said.
She gave a dry laugh. “Like anyone would believe me.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“How can you be so sure I’ll come back?”
Dorian shrugged. “You’re the Pagewalker. The library won’t let you stay away for too long.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said.
Dorian looked at her sadly. “Good night, Ms. Walker.” He paused. “Don’t worry about the mess. Morning maintenance is accustomed to dealing with some strange stuff.”
She didn’t answer him, barely remembering to lock the doors behind her. When she got outside, she looked up at the window to see Dorian watching her. Her pocket vibrated, and she pulled it out. Andre had sent her several texts. She laughed. Compared to the Parisian mob, she wasn’t afraid of what could happen to her in this parking lot. She hit the little phone symbol under Andre’s name.
“Hey,” she said after he picked up. “Sorry. I got out a little later than I thought. I didn’t see your texts until now.”
“I was worried,” Andre said, and she was glad to hear his voice over the phone. “Are you okay? You sound a little shaken up.”
She thought for a moment. Should she tell him? But she knew she couldn’t. He’d think she was crazy. “Yeah. I saw a spider inside the door. It gave me a bit of a fright.”
“Well, it’s not the spider I’m worried about,” Andre said. “Stay on the phone until you start your car.”
She followed his directions, glad to have something normal to focus on. She shivered when she had to hang up the phone, dreading being alone with her thoughts. Andre was afraid for the dangers awaiting her outside of the library. If only he knew the real danger was inside it.
Chapter 6
Gram put down her newspaper when April walked out to breakfast the following morning. “There you are,” she said. “How was work?”
She thought for a moment. Should she tell Gram that she planned to quit? Did she plan to quit? She wasn’t sure, so she decided it was best to deal with that later. If it did come to that, she’d have to think of a good excuse. She couldn’t tell Gram about the gate—she would think she was crazy. Gram had always been practical and no-nonsense.
She thought back to the previous night’s events. Now, sitting at the breakfast table, she wondered if it had all been a dream. Maybe she’d go into work today and find that yesterday had never happened. Mae would be alive, and all her troubles would be solved.
“It was okay. Everyone’s still recovering from Mae’s death.”
“I can imagine,” she said. “That poor woman. Did they ever find her family?”
April shook her head. “A few of her coworkers were there when she passed, though.”
“That’s good. No one should have to die alone.”
April nodded, stirring her cereal.
“Are you okay?” Gram asked. “You don’t look well.”
April smiled weakly. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
Gram shook her head. “I knew this would happen. It’s because you’re working so late. You can’t work earlier in the day?”
“All the daytime positions are filled. What they need is a night librarian.”
Gram harrumphed, then looked down at her newspaper. “November thirteenth,” she said, checking the date. “There are supposed to be record lows the next few nights, especially tomorrow. Be sure to bundle up before you go to work.”
They sat in silence for several minutes before Gram spoke again. “I got a call from Dr. Applewood’s office,” she said. Her too-casual tone caught April’s attention. Dr. Applewood was Gram’s oncologist. “They ran some tests at my appointment last Thursday. They want us to come in to talk.”
April’s heart sank. They both knew what that meant. Gram’s cancer had come back.
Don’t be so negative, a voice in the back of her head said. It could be something else. You don’t know for sure.
April hoped the voice was right. In either case, it would do Gram no good if she acted like being called in for a meeting was a death sentence. “Okay,” she said, matching Gram’s casual tone, “I’ll call and set it up.”
“Good,” Gram said, closing the newspaper. She picked one of the bills up off the table. “I’m getting my social security check next week,” she said. “I can take care of some of these.”
April nodded. “I’m getting my first paycheck tomorrow, too. We’ll have this all paid off in no time.”
Gram leaned across the table. “I am so proud of you. Really.”
April sighed. She couldn’t quit, could she? Even if they didn’t need the money, what would she say to Gram? Not the truth, that was for sure. Barbara would find a way to fire her soon, anyway.
She half-snorted. Who would have ever thought that getting fired was a comforting thing?
~~~
If anything in the Werner Room had been off, no one mentioned it to her when she arrived at work the next day. Dorian had said the maintenance crew was used to cleaning up strange things—did that mean they knew about the gate?
Thankfully, she was soon too distracted just getting through the day to think much about the gate. She spent the first hour on the desk with Janet, who, despite her warning the previous day, had rescheduled their training shift. She was just as passively hostile as the day before. April was relieved when she left an hour into her shift.
April spent the rest of the afternoon studying. She jumped when Clara, one of the first-floor LAs, tapped her on the shoulder and told her that she’d watch the reference desk while April took he
r dinner break.
April decided to eat in the break room, which was on the first floor. Mae’s office felt too claustrophobic.
Becky was in the break room. April sat down at the table next to her, and Andre walked in a few minutes later and bought a candy bar from the vending machine.
“You must think we’re the worst coworkers ever,” Becky said.
“Why would I think that?”
“Because you’ve basically been on your own, training-wise. Well, except for Janet, and let’s be frank, she’s not exactly the warmest welcoming committee.”
“It’s fine,” April said. “I mean, with Mae and all…” She paused. “So, has a date for the funeral been set?”
“No funeral.” Andre shook his head. “They weren’t able to locate her next of kin, so they cremated her. She had everything arranged and paid for. A few of us have gotten together and organized a memorial service. Becky’s sending an email about it tonight.”
“Let me know if I can help in any way,” April said.
“Thanks.”
They lapsed into silence. April thought this might be a good opportunity to get some information. “So… have you guys ever heard of anything… strange going on upstairs?”
Andre and Becky exchanged knowing glances.
“What?” she asked.
“I guess you’ve heard the rumors,” Becky said with a small laugh.
“What rumors?” April asked, her heart beating quickly. Did they know something about the gate?
“That the third floor is haunted,” Becky said.
“It’s… what?” April hadn’t expected the word haunted.
“Don’t listen to her,” Andre said. “She believes in all that hokey-pokey ghost stuff. She even goes to a psychic every week.”
“Moira isn’t a psychic,” Becky said earnestly. “She’s a spiritual advisor.”
“Whatever,” Andre said, holding his hands up. “But she’s right about one thing. People say they’ve seen lights and movement through the windows at night after the library is closed and everyone’s locked up and gone home.”
April had a sinking feeling that she knew what had caused all those flashing lights.
“Wait,” Becky said, drawing April out of her thoughts. Her eyes were narrowed. “You’ve seen something, haven’t you?”
“What? No,” April said, knowing she didn’t sound convincing. “I mean, I heard a few noises after everyone left, which is why I asked. But it was nothing, really. Probably just noisy pipes.”
Andre nodded. “It’s an old building, and old buildings are noisy. You’ll hear even more tonight and tomorrow with that cold front coming in.”
Becky and Andre started talking about the freak cold front that was passing through the area. The projected temperatures were frigid even by Minnesota standards. April was happy for the change of subject.
April’s lunch was nearly over when Clara came in with an apologetic look on her face.
“There’s a man waiting in Mae’s office,” she said. “I told him you were on lunch, but he said that he set up the meeting with you yesterday.”
Meeting? She hadn’t set up any meeting… could it be Dorian? Who else would she have seen yesterday? She didn’t know how the whole being a fictional character thing worked. Did he go back into his book at night or did he live somewhere in the city?
“Oh, right,” April said. “He’s a little early.” She said goodbye to Andre and Becky and followed Clara back upstairs. Clara promised to cover the reference desk until their meeting concluded.
She pushed open the heavy wooden office door, expecting to see Dorian sitting in the seat in front of Mae’s desk. Instead she found a stranger dressed in a suit and tie. His black hair was slicked close to his skull like a 1940s gangster. He was flipping through a book that had been sitting on Mae’s desk.
“Ms. Walker,” he said, looking up. His icy blue eyes were hooded, as though he’d applied eyeliner, though he didn’t strike her as the type. He looked familiar.
He smiled thinly. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Who are you?” April said. “Why did you lie to Clara?”
“Because I did not think you’d agree to meet with me otherwise. I would suggest you shut the door. We both have a mutual secret we don’t want to get out.”
Without protesting further, she closed the door. She opened the blinds to the window that looked out over the Werner Room. There weren’t a lot of people out there, but hopefully the possibility of being seen would stop him from trying to hurt her, though she didn’t think that was his intention. She sat down in the chair in front of the desk.
“Who are you?” She repeated.
The man stood and extended his hand. “Ms. Walker,” he said. “my name is Thaddeus Broker. I represent a group that seeks to make the world a safer place.”
Though she didn’t want to touch him, she also didn’t feel comfortable being rude. She apprehensively reached out and grasped his hand. As she did, she suddenly realized why he seemed so familiar. She’d seen those piercing blue eyes staring up at her from outside before Dorian pushed her through the gate.
“You were here last night,” she said. “You were one of them. A—” she struggled to remember what Dorian had called them. “A collector.”
His mouth curled slightly at the name. “That’s what the late Pagewalker and her associates liked to call us,” he said. “But I can assure you that it is quite the misnomer.”
April needed a moment to digest that information. “I was told that you wouldn’t be able to come into the library.” She’d been about to say, after I became the Pagewalker, but saying the words out loud made her stomach flip.
“Years ago, the Jackson woman commissioned a local warlock to devise a spell that would keep our agents out of her library unless invited. He must not have been a very good warlock, because the spell only works when the library is closed—something about a public building serving as an invitation, if I were to hazard a guess.”
“It seems to have kept you away, though,” April couldn’t help but fire back.
Thaddeus nodded, conceding her point. “Quite right. It was effective in that regard. We can only enter the library during the day, when there are eyes everywhere—and potential casualties.”
“So what do you want with me?” April asked.
Thaddeus looked at her levelly. “To talk. I think your new acquaintance has told you some lies about me and the organization I work for. I had meant to talk with you earlier, but I never thought that they would have gotten to you so soon.”
“‘Earlier’?” April asked. “Do you mean before or after you broke into the library?”
Thaddeus’ eyes flashed, but if he was angry at her remark he hid it well. “I can see they’ve succeeded in recruiting you to their side.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m not on anyone’s side.”
Thaddeus smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. It means you don’t believe everything you hear. You seek the facts. So allow me to tell you my side of the story. For thousands of years, the group that I work for has been fighting the darkness threatening to swallow this world. Darkness like that portal you’re protecting.”
“Darkness? You mean, like, magic?”
“Yes, most people would call it that. The world used to be a much scarier place, you know. Monsters in every lake, every forest, underneath every bed, things that no human ever had any hope of facing down. The world we live in now is a much happier one.”
“Thanks to you?”
“Thanks to my organization,” Thaddeus said. “We’re so close to fulfilling our mission.”
“And what is your mission?”
“Eradicating this world of darkness. Or, as you call it, magic.”
“So what do you do with these objects once you get them?” April asked, curious. She didn’t have any trouble believing that the library was dangerous. She thought about the soulless eyes of the mob as they chased her down the prev
ious evening and shivered.
“We destroy them,” he said. “We make it so they can never hurt anyone else ever again.”
“What about that hammer you used to break in last night?” April asked. “When are you going to destroy that?”
Thaddeus’ eyes flashed again. “We keep certain things around, things that are less dangerous than others, because they can help us achieve our mission. They give us a fighting chance.”
“And once your mission is complete, you’ll destroy them, too?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“I’m still not sure why you’re here.”
“My colleagues wanted to come at you with everything we have, Ms. Walker. You see, your power as The Pagewalker rests on your being alive. And while we can’t attack you here, you are not here all the time, are you?” He paused to let that sink in. “But I told them that it was only fair to try to reason with you first.”
“How kind,” April said, though her veins had filled with ice at his words.
He ignored her interjection. “I am here to offer a truce,” he said. “You let us decommission the library and we’ll leave you alone.”
“What would that look like?” April asked. She had to admit, it was tempting. All her problems would be gone. Well, at least one of them.
“The library would have to be closed, of course.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have that kind of power.”
“We do,” he said, staring at her. “We’d take care of everything. One day you’ll get a phone call and you get a few extra days off. When you come back in, everything is as you remember it, except all your problems will be gone.”
“Just like that?” she asked.
He smirked. “Just like that.”
“What would happen to… to the people in the books?” She asked. She’d been about to say Dorian but had changed her words at the last moment.
“People?” Thaddeus said. “Those are not people. They have no feelings, no thoughts, no morality. They are like robots that trick you into thinking they have emotions, but they’re just programmed to mimic humanity.”
Was that even possible? She thought. Dorian seemed so… real.
“I haven’t told you the most persuasive part of our offer. For your cooperation, my group is willing to offer you compensation.”