by H. Duke
“And that’s how you get rid of it? By simply touching it?”
“That’s how you get rid of it,” Dorian said. “The Pagewalker is the only one with that power. It’s easiest when the rot is new, like what you encountered. The longer the rot has to spread, the more concentration and energy it will take for you to eradicate.”
“Doesn’t it seem like a coincidence that I just happened to run to the place where the ink rot was?”
Dorian shrugged. “Not really. Mae was always having those hunches, too. It’s your connection with the gate.”
April fell silent after that. She didn’t know how she felt about the idea that the gate was influencing her in some way. She didn’t feel like she was being influenced… but that didn’t mean anything, did it?
When they crossed back over, she called it a night. Dorian didn’t protest.
~~~
April had been at work for only a few minutes when Mae’s phone rang. She answered it. “Fourth Street Library, Werner Room. April speaking.”
“Ms. Walker—how nice to hear your voice again.”
The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Thaddeus. “What do you want?” She asked.
“Oh, just to check in,” he said. “I hope you’ve been considering my offer.”
“Actually, I haven’t had much time to think about it,” she lied.
“I imagine you’ve been busy. Don’t take too long, though. I can only placate my associates for so long.”
She shuddered, wondering what that meant. “I need more time. Time to think.”
“Understandable. Though I must say I’m surprised. I thought you wouldn’t want to associate with someone of your new friend’s… moral history.”
New friend? “You mean Dorian?”
“The same.”
“What history?”
“I can’t do everything for you. You work in a library. Use the resources available to you.” What was that supposed to mean? “Goodbye, Ms. Walker. I will speak with you again soon. Oh, and, good luck at your grandmother’s appointment tomorrow.”
She’d just made the appointment before leaving for work that morning. “How do you know about that?” But he hung up before she could get the words out. She pulled the receiver away from her ear and stared at it for a few seconds before replacing it on the cradle. She didn’t like his mention of Gram’s appointment. Not at all. And what did he mean about Dorian’s “history?”
She was staring at the receiver, lost in thought, when the office door swung open and Janet walked in. She placed one hand on her hip. “Am I going to have to remind you every time you need to be somewhere?”
April looked at her, speechless for several seconds. Janet raised her eyebrows. “We’re supposed to start assessing the collection today. Remember?”
“Oh, right.” April shook herself. “Sorry. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
“Is it my fault that you like to stay out and party? Come on.”
She followed Janet back to the vault, where the more valuable items were kept. Mae had brought her through here, but except for a few items kept under glass for showing off during tours, everything was hidden away in air-tight, light safe drawers.
Janet took the keys off the wall. “Let’s start with ancient Egypt.” She walked over to the wall and pulled out a drawer. Inside was what looked like a beat-up bamboo mat with pictures painted on it.
“What is it?” April said, wrinkling her nose.
“It’s an ancient papyrus with the story of Osiris’ betrayal on it,” Janet said. Her voice was soft for the first time. She spoke about the piece of papyrus reverently, almost lovingly. She pulled out a clipboard. “Okay, you describe the condition to me, and I’ll note it down.”
Good. April felt lucky that Janet had told her what they were doing, because she hadn’t had a clue. Describe the item’s condition? She could do that.
“Okay,” she said, reaching for the papyrus.
“What are you doing?” Janet said, batting her hands away.
“I’m going to examine its condition,” April said, her voice small. How had she already messed up?
Janet looked at her as though she couldn’t believe she was that stupid. “You need to put gloves on first. This papyrus is over two thousand years old. The oils in your hand will damage it.”
“Oh. I guess Mae didn’t tell me how to do this stuff, yet.”
Janet handed her the clipboard. “You write. I’ll assess.” She pointed to a box. “Gloves are kept in here.” She pulled a pair out. “You use them once, then put them in the laundry bucket.”
She began going over all the procedures in the room, telling her where the keys were, what the protocols were for different types of objects. April turned over one of the assessment sheets (which, she was surprised to see was much like a worksheet, with spaces to write down dates, and different states of condition) and started taking notes.
“Why are you telling me all this?” She asked when it sounded like Janet was winding down.
“Most of these items existed before Gutenberg invented the printing press. Some date back before the time of Christ. I want to make sure none of them are damaged. Shall we?” She pointed back to the papyrus, still sitting on its satin bed inside the drawer.
April nodded. “You sure know a lot about this.”
Janet sighed. “I was a double major in college. Library Science and Archaeology. I figured if I came here, I didn’t have to choose between the two.” She paused, as though deciding whether or not to say something. “I thought I was a shoo-in for Mae’s job once she retired. She was in her sixties when I first joined—I figured it was only a matter of a year or two. I didn’t know she planned on dying here.” She closed her eyes, realizing what she just said. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just had a lot of plans for this place, and to lose out to…” she trailed off.
April felt a pang of guilt. Janet was right. She deserved the special collection position way more. If only she knew all the crap that came with it. “What kind of plans?”
“I figured we could turn part of this floor into a little museum. Rotate items from the collection. I also thought it was time to start acquiring new artifacts.”
“Really?” April said, surprised. “I thought you agreed with Barbara about turning the Werner Room into a second computer lab.”
Janet scoffed. “No. Unlike you and Mae, I just understand the power of working with someone rather than against them. I would have talked her into putting the computer lab down the hall. We don’t need all that storage space, anyway.”
“I didn’t know—” April started, but Janet cut her off.
“We need to do this,” she said, gesturing to the papyrus. “We already have a lot of time to make up as it is.”
April nodded, and Janet started listing off the item’s condition, and April noted it down. They didn’t say anything else, except to comment on the task at hand.
Janet went home shortly after they put the papyrus scroll away, and April went out and relieved Becky, who had been covering the upstairs reference desk.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” April said, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner.
“That’s okay,” Becky said. “It’s so quiet up here. No screaming, no crying. It’s like a spa retreat.” She sighed and stood. “Back downstairs I go.”
April watched her leave sadly, then settled in for a cold, lonely night of studying. The Werner Room was emptier than usual, due to the impending cold front. Besides Randall and Rex, who sat in their usual spot near the reference desk, there were only one or two other people.
Fifteen minutes to close, Andre made his announcement. She double-checked the room, then let Randall know the library was closing. He nodded without speaking and began to get his things together. April hoped he had someplace warm to go to.
She walked through the shelves again, checking for any obvious missing books. She didn’t know the collection well enough to
really know for sure if books were absent or not, but it made her feel better.
Before she left, the familiar gold-leafed edge of One Thousand and One Nights caught her eye. She pulled it off the shelf, thinking she’d skim through it if she got some free time to do so—yeah right. She wondered how much of the description would match what she’d seen.
When she walked out of the stacks again, Randall and Rex were gone.
Andre walked up the stairs. “All clear up here?” he was already wearing his coat. A pair of ear muffs clung tight to his bald head behind his ears.
“Yep. Everyone’s gone.”
“Okay,” Andre said. “Have a good night. I’m just up the street if you need anything.”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
She walked into Mae’s office and spent a few minutes finding the page she thought One Thousand and One Nights had been opened to. She put a piece of paper in it to mark the spot and set it aside. She didn’t have time to worry about that—right now, she needed to focus on studying for Barb’s test so she could keep her job. She sighed and cracked open her binder of notes.
Dorian walked in thirty minutes later—she hadn’t even noticed the clock chiming. “Hey,” she said, not looking up at him.
He sat down in the chair opposite her desk. “Every day I walk through that gate and wonder if you’ll be here. And here you are.”
“Uh huh,” she said, still trying to ignore him.
“So… should we get started?” he asked after a few beats of silence.
She turned a page in the packet she was looking through. “Doing what?”
“Maintaining the collection,” he said. “It’s in bad shape. Mae could only do so much, towards the end.”
She looked up, finally. “Listen—I’m still not sure about this whole Pagewalker thing. But I need this job. And if I don’t pass Barbara’s stupid test, then there will be no library job and no Pagewalker. We both lose. So I suggest—”
Dorian waved his hand to stop her. “What test?”
She explained about Barbara’s test, and her plan to try to fire April.
“But she can’t do that,” Dorian said. “It was in Werner’s will!”
“Well, she seems to think that she can, and I’d rather not take the chance.”
Dorian groaned and rubbed his face. “Very well. But we can’t put the maintenance off for too long. You really should have mentioned this earlier.”
Before she could say that she really hadn’t had a chance to mention it, a loud animal roar erupted from the library.
They met eyes for a split second before running to the window. Dorian squinted into the darkness, and then his eyes widened. “The gate’s open.”
“Didn’t you close your book?”
“I did. Did you open a book?”
“No! I’ve been here with you the whole time!”
“Well, someone must have—” then he stopped and looked at her.
“Someone else is here,” She said, finally. “But I checked the library. That’s not…”
She was interrupted by a loud, human scream, and the slamming of a door at the opposite end of the Werner Room.
“Did you check the restrooms?” Dorian asked, one beautiful eyebrow arching.
She hadn’t. “Oops.”
They heard a second roar, followed by yelling, which was followed by… barking.
“I know who’s over there,” April said. She cracked open the door in time to see two figures running towards her—a man and a dog.
“Open the door!” Randall hissed, and she did, nearly slamming it on Rex’s tail.
Randall’s eyes were wide and frightened. He lifted one shaky hand and pointed it out into the library. “There’s a tiger out there,” he said.
“A tiger?” April said. “Are you sure?” She knew he was telling the truth, because she’d heard the roar herself, but part of her was hoping they were all having a mass hallucination.
“Lady, I know what you’re thinking—just another bum seeing things! Well, I know a tiger when I see one!” Rex pressed himself against his master’s legs, trying to offer comfort despite the fact that he was trembling. The fur along his back had risen into a long, mohawk-like ridge. “Rex knows, too.” He bent down and pressed his face into the dog’s neck, whispering soothingly.
“What are you doing here?”
“That might not be our most pressing concern,” Dorian said, widening the spaces between the blinds with his fingers as he peered out into the stacks.
Randall ruffled Rex’s fur once more before standing up. “It’s cold out there,” he said, gesturing to the window, which was being bombarded by sheets of snow. “The shelter would have been filled up before noon. I don’t mind freezing to death, but Rex doesn’t deserve that, all right? I did what I had to do. It’s not my fault y’all didn’t check the restrooms. Now, is someone going to tell me why there’s a friggin’ tiger in the library?”
Dorian and April exchanged a look. “What book were you reading?” Dorian asked.
“What does that have to do with anything? And how did you know I was reading a book?” When neither of them answered, he said, “Fine, don’t tell me anything. I’m just a customer. And who are you? Her boyfriend?”
April was completely unprepared for how quickly her face became the temperature of the sun. She started sweating instantly. “What? No.”
“I… work with Miss Walker,” Dorian said with a strange glance in her direction. “I worked with Miss Jackson, as well.”
“How come I’ve never seen you before?”
“I only work at night,” Dorian said with a smile, then he grabbed April’s arm and pulled her over into the corner opposite of where Randall was standing. He positioned himself so that his back was turned to Randall, and then said through his teeth, “He can’t know about the gate.”
“What are we supposed to tell him?” April said. “The shelves are tall enough that it’s possible—not probable—that he hasn’t seen the gate, but he’s definitely seen the tiger. He’s going to talk about that.”
“He’s a vagrant,” Dorian said. “No one will believe him.”
Did he really want to gaslight Randall? “We can’t do that to him! It’s not fair.”
“We can’t let word about the gate get out. Then we’ll have more than the collectors on our case. And we can barely handle them right now.”
April winced at the mention of the collectors. She’d forgotten about Thaddeus and his offer. Should she tell Dorian about it? But hadn’t Thaddeus implied Dorian wasn’t all that he seemed? Not wanting him to sense her unease, she remained silent.
“Anyway, I haven’t seen the tiger yet. There’s a chance it’s gone back onto the other side of the gate, if it was even on this side at all.”
“That means all we have to do is close the book, right?”
Dorian nodded. “In theory.”
Just at that moment, the library was plunged into darkness.
Randall moved to the window that overlooked the parking lot. “The whole street is out,” he said. “Must be ice on the power lines. Gotta love winter in Minnesota.” He shook his head. “If you had a generator, it would have come on already.”
“There’s an emergency kit with flashlights in the bottom drawer,” Dorian said.
“How do you know that, again?”
Dorian smiled. “I told you—I worked with Mae.” Before Randall could ask anything else, he pulled open the drawer and pulled out a small metal box. He dug through it, revealing matches, candles, and bandages. Then he pulled out two flashlights and threw one to April. As she caught it, her hand pressed down on the power switch. Light beamed directly through the office window and into the library.
She fumbled to turn the light off. “Crap!” she said.
Everyone, including Rex, sat in rapt anticipation, as though they could trick the tiger into believing that they weren’t there if they didn’t move.
April peered out into the stacks, holding he
r breath. Movement near the restroom caught her eye. A giant orange form swayed out from the stacks, like a mirage materializing over hot pavement, a flame through smoke.
She gasped. It really was a tiger. From nose to tail, it was nearly as long as one of the shelves. The darkness did little to diminish its fiery beauty. It yawned, revealing teeth as long and thick as her thumb.
“This shouldn’t be possible,” she breathed. After what had happened the previous two nights she shouldn’t have been surprised by anything, but she was.
The tiger turned its head towards her, and her breath caught in her throat. It heard me, she thought. As though in confirmation, the tiger’s eyes locked on her own. They were large and yellow, like marbles, and intelligent. A shiver ran up her spine.
“I told you,” Randall said. “We’ve got to call for help. Do either of you have cell phones?”
Dorian shook his head at her almost imperceptibly. He was right. If the authorities came, they would, at the very least, have to explain the tiger, let alone the jungle portal in the library’s wall. How would she explain that? She didn’t want to be on whatever government list you got on for being involved with something like this.
“I forgot it at home this morning,” April lied.
“I don’t have a cell phone,” Dorian said, and she knew he was being absolutely truthful. “Darn the bad luck.”
Randall again narrowed his eyes at Dorian. “There’s something off about you.”
Dorian shrugged. “I get that a lot.” He turned to April. “Is it still out there?”
April peered out into the darkness. Besides the windows, the only light came from the battery-powered EXIT sign over the double doors.
A shape moved in the dark—April couldn’t believe that something so large could move so fast—and hit the door of the office, causing the wall to shake. The tiger snarled as its attack was denied. April said a prayer of thanks for the door’s sturdy 19th-century construction before the sound of shredding wood filled the room. After two more strikes, the inside of the door began to splinter.
“That’s not going to hold much longer,” Dorian said, stepping back from the door.
Randall moved back to the window that overlooked the parking lot. “We have to climb down,” he said. April was surprised by how calm he sounded.