by Lex Chase
Between the stacks? Taylor rested his hand on Corentin’s blood-slicked one. They nodded to each other in understanding—all will be well, but be prepared when it isn’t.
TAYLOR KEPT watch out the window as the Hummer drove over the downed frozen oak branches as they navigated the ruins of Tulane University campus. Corentin hissed a sharp gasp with each bump in the road.
“He needs help,” Taylor urged Aliss.
Aliss didn’t seem at all flustered. “He’s a Cronespawn. They can survive far worse things. As long as he doesn’t channel his dark magic, he’ll be fine. Isn’t that right, Mr. Devereaux?”
“She has a point,” Corentin said as he took slow, even breaths. “You know what happened the last time.”
Taylor watched out the window, and again the Hummer rocked as the giant drove over another collection of branches. “I remember,” Taylor said, lost in thought. “You were fresh out of borrowed time, if I recall.”
Ringo put his small hands to the window and whistled. His breath fogged on the glass. “Well. When you guys said you were the Library, I wasn’t—y’know—expecting a library.”
Corentin leaned into Taylor, and Taylor likewise leaned toward the window. The Howard-Tilton Library loomed over them like a pale prison. The tall, narrow windows looked more like strategic battlements instead of a place of arts and literature. Taylor clenched his stomach, expecting a hail of flaming arrows.
“Hiding in plain sight, you could say,” Aliss said, popping the door as the Hummer coasted to a stop. Her booted feet crunched in the snow, and she called into the vehicle, “Jax, Beane, send for Gabrielle immediately.”
The two men nodded. Together, they and Aliss pulled small children’s books from their pockets: Aliss, a copy of Through the Looking-Glass, and Jax and Beane shared a copy of Jack and the Beanstalk.
Aliss ran her fingers over the lettering, and the words danced off the page in long, lazy swirls.
Taylor, Corentin, and Ringo glanced at one another. Ringo shrugged.
In a blink of iridescence, the Hummer and all of the passengers appeared in a torchlit temple. Ringo scratched his head, and Taylor helped Corentin out of the Hummer. They stood for a long moment, befuddled by it all. The golden columns had been carved with long lines of literature, and the arched ceilings had been decorated with sweet cherubs and creatures of myth—unicorns, chimeras, and centaurs, all frolicking peacefully in the frescoes.
“It’s a parking garage?” Taylor asked, not sure of himself.
Rows and rows of various cars and motorcycles lined the temple.
Aliss pulled off her gloves and draped them over one arm. “We need one, of course.”
“Of course,” Corentin said and arched a brow at Taylor.
“Just when it couldn’t get any weirder…,” Ringo whispered under his breath.
“Shut it,” Corentin said.
“There’s much more to see,” Aliss said as she led them on.
Taylor braced Corentin as they navigated the long fortress halls. Butterflies and sprites zipped to and fro on their own tasks for something Taylor couldn’t piece together.
Corentin caught his foot on a brick and stumbled in Taylor’s grasp. Taylor staggered with the shift in weight. “Sorry.” Corentin winced. The blood soaked into his jeans and left a squiggling trail down his foot.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Taylor said in his ear. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“He’s fine.” Aliss spoke up in an authoritative tone.
Taylor scowled when she didn’t spare them a glance or slow her pace. “Yeah.” Taylor adjusted his grip on Corentin. “We got that part. But I’m sure he’s not made of twenty gallons of blood.”
“Cronespawn are amazing creatures with what they can endure,” Aliss said.
“He’s not some creature,” Taylor grumbled.
Corentin didn’t answer. The lack of defending himself worried Taylor.
He caught Corentin’s gaze wandering around the long hall. He was hunting for escape routes, and Taylor gave his hand a reassuring squeeze that he understood.
“Ringo told me the Library doesn’t exist,” he said to Aliss.
She didn’t break her stride. “We don’t.”
“So, where are we?” Corentin spoke up.
Golden bricks shined with a kaleidoscope of pastel colors. Taylor looked up at the single trail of glowing orbs that lit the way with soft apricot lighting. Butterflies fluttered about, perching in the brick joints and then fluttering off again.
“This?” Aliss pulled open intimidating ivy-covered doors. Light flooded around them, and Taylor shivered at the familiar warmth on his frozen bones. She beckoned them forward through the doors. “Welcome to Idea.”
Taylor ducked his head, shielding his eyes from the light as they crossed the threshold. He blinked, and in careful amounts, let his eyes adjust to brightness.
“Taylor, look….” Ringo’s voice was filled with awe.
“That’s different.” Corentin coughed.
Taylor raised his head and gasped.
A vast sunny valley lay out before them. Lush green grasses rolled in the gentle summer breeze. A crystalline blue lake rippled as a sprinkling of flower petals dappled the surface. Butterflies in colors not known to mundanes flittered about without a care or worry for the snowy ruin just outside.
“How far does it go?” Taylor asked.
“How far do you want it to go?” Aliss asked with a slight smile. “Idea currently stretches for twenty miles, because we all agreed we should be conservative for now.”
“We?” Corentin asked. “Who’s we?”
“All of the Library Council,” Aliss said, then glanced at Corentin’s leg. “We should get that looked at.”
“You don’t say.” Corentin flattened his brows.
“Follow me.” She stepped out onto a cobblestone path that rolled out under her feet like fabric.
Together, they followed it through the peaceful valley.
“So what is the Library and who are the Library Council?” Taylor would have his answers, and he forced his frustration not to get the best of him. Aliss had rescued them this time, so perhaps she was on their side after all. When Taylor had met her, she had seemed almost eager for Taylor to sacrifice himself for Corentin.
“The Library is a safe haven for Storytellers. We protect them as they write our destinies. We offer them the seclusion they need to concentrate their efforts. They make up the Library Council, and they created Idea,” Aliss said as she led the way by the lakeside.
Ringo thumbed his chin in contemplation and nodded. “Seems legit.”
“Ringo…,” Taylor warned, and he shrugged in return.
Corentin blinked at Ringo. “I have to say, I agree with him.”
“But you’re not a Storyteller, right?” Taylor asked, adjusting his grip on Corentin.
Aliss waved her hand over the grass, and an opulent chaise lounge bloomed from the earth. “Rest him here.”
Corentin took the lead, and under his own power, lay back on the green velvet cushions. He gritted his teeth from the pain, and Taylor crouched at his side, but he waved Taylor off. “I’m fine… I’m fine….”
Taylor turned back to Aliss. “If you’re not a Storyteller, then what do you do?”
“The rest of the Library are guardians of the Storytellers. We keep them balanced and monitor their tales. We watch over all Enchants and restore the balance by making a few edits, as they say.”
“I assume that means not with a red pen on paper,” Ringo said.
“You kill anyone who upsets the balance,” Taylor accused.
“Kill?” Aliss seemed bewildered by the idea. “Don’t be so simple, Princess Hatfield. We are an organization that defends the Storytellers and keeps the peace of our world. Our enforcement tactics have indeed changed with the time, but that is by no means wrong. The Storytellers must be protected at all costs.”
“But what do you want with us?” Taylor aske
d. A hazy black trail drifted overhead, pulsing, twirling, zigzagging through the imaginary sky. “What’s that?”
The haze dropped like a scoop of flour between those gathered. Ashen trails puffed around them, and Taylor hid his eyes from the grit. From the blackness, a girl took shape, and the tendrils of ash became her long, tattered coat. She had her attention on Aliss, but Taylor and Corentin hadn’t forgotten her face.
“You,” Corentin growled.
The girl startled and retreated behind Aliss. Her sunken eyes rimmed in smudges of kohl emphasized her skittish expression.
“Gabrielle?” Aliss asked and rested her hand on the girl’s narrow shoulder. “She’s one of us.”
“She attacked Corentin two days ago!” Taylor snapped.
Gabrielle shook her head violently and her sloppy bun bounced.
“She was only scared,” Aliss said. “It was all in defense.” She nodded to Corentin. “And she can heal you.”
Gabrielle kept her distance, hunched behind Aliss. She gawked openly at Corentin, but he wasn’t having it.
“She’s Cronespawn, isn’t she?” Corentin asked, then gasped from the pain.
“How do you know?” Taylor asked.
“He just does,” Aliss said with a smile. “You do recognize one another in close proximity. Interesting.” Gabrielle looked up to Aliss, like a child looking for approval. Aliss nodded and gestured to Corentin. “Go on.”
She slipped forward, moving like smoke toward Corentin. He jerked away from her, and she recoiled timidly. “I can… help…,” she said in English, but her voice heavily accented with Curse Word. “Help?” She waited for recognition.
Corentin glanced at Taylor, looking for the same recognition.
Taylor shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”
Corentin nodded to Gabrielle. “Help,” he said and pulled his hands away from his bleeding thigh. He watched her face. “Help. Pelh? You understand? Pelh?” He spoke in Curse Word for her comfort.
Gabrielle smiled and rubbed her hands together. Orange sparks scattered from her fingers, followed by flicks of ethereal flames.
Corentin reached out for Taylor, and they linked hands. “This will likely suck.”
Taylor shushed him. “You said so yourself—there’s a lot you can survive.”
“Yeah,” Ringo said with a grin. “Don’t be such a cupcake.”
Corentin braced himself and lay back on the chaise. Gabrielle parted her glowing hands and flicked her wrists to adjust her sleeve cuffs. She inched her hands over Corentin’s wound, and the licks of magic reached out for his bloody flesh. Corentin hissed and forced himself to suck in deep breaths.
“You okay?” Taylor asked; he couldn’t hide the concern.
“Oh yeah, that burns,” Corentin said between deep breaths.
“I’m here, okay?” Taylor assured him.
Corentin gritted his teeth and squinted from the obvious pain. He raised his thumb in approval. “Got it.”
Taylor settled his attention on Aliss. “Now you’re going to answer my questions. An Enchant girl, Lacey Palmer, claims to know you.”
Aliss crossed her arms, seeming to grow distant. “Yes, she’s our undercover agent.”
Corentin grunted. “If by undercover you mean stoned out of her mind on Dust.”
Aliss brushed her bangs from her forehead. “She knew the risk. Her mission is to get closer to Zane Chopin, a Dust dealer. We believe he has connections to an individual they call Hook.”
“Hook?” Taylor and Corentin said in unison.
“This Zane guy wouldn’t happen to have an obsession with clocks, would he?” Ringo asked.
“They call him the Crocodile,” Aliss said with a nod.
Taylor and Corentin exchanged glances. “We might have run into him,” Taylor said, “at Fort St. Philip.”
“The witches’ prison,” Aliss said, then tapped her chin. “Princess Valentine accompanied you to Fort St. Philip, correct?”
Taylor hesitated and gave a slight shake of the head. “How did you know?”
“Lacey had suspicions about him. She believed Princess Valentine was involved.” Aliss nodded with a smile, as if ruminating to herself. “She had planted herself at Jackson Square.”
“She was onto us the entire time?” Taylor asked.
Aliss nodded. “She is quite clever. Even when drugged, no one would believe her about the babblings of the Library.”
Taylor frowned. “So, we were pawns in your little operation to catch Ray? All the while we’re trying to get to the bottom of this mess?”
“Oh, of course not,” Aliss said and smiled. “You three happened to be in a fortunate place at the time.”
Corentin gnashed his teeth. “Do you listen to yourself?”
Taylor stepped forward as a direct challenge to Aliss, but Zee whimpered in response, making him stop short. “What do you want with us? I told you, we retired from all of this. We saved the world and all of the Enchants once already. Once is enough.”
Aliss crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “And it was that act of saving the world, as you say, that threw everything off. You two have upset the balance quite a bit.” She cast a dominating stare at Taylor, and Zee whimpered again. “Thanks to you setting Idi’s plan into motion, Snow White has become our top priority.”
“Well, get in line.” Taylor scowled.
“Oh, Princess Hatfield, you don’t seem to understand that you and Mr. Deveraux are a part of that case. We’ve been watching you for quite a long time. Mr. Devereaux especially piqued our interest some time ago.”
“Because he’s with me and not a prince.” Taylor slipped out of his coat, thankful to finally be warm.
“Taylor,” Corentin said. There was a warning in his tone.
Taylor glanced over to Corentin as the last bits of his skin sealed back together under Gabrielle’s powers. “You okay?”
Corentin glared at Aliss instead. “I’ve been down this road enough this week already,” he grumbled, and Gabrielle backed away. She seemed to admire her healing skills. Corentin’s new skin steamed from her power.
“Ah,” Aliss brightened and watched Corentin. He frowned darkly. “He doesn’t know.”
Taylor’s heart set off at a slamming pace. “Know what?”
“Did you read it?” Aliss asked Corentin, seeming to dismiss Taylor.
Corentin glanced at Taylor and then back to her. Was he considering his answer? Now that he was put on the spot, he couldn’t keep the truth from Taylor anymore.
“What is she talking about?” Taylor asked.
“Taylor.” Corentin’s tone wanted to stop the conversation.
Taylor refused to back down. “Tell me.”
“Did you read it?” Aliss repeated. She tilted her head, waiting for an answer.
“I did.” Corentin’s words only led to more confusion for Taylor.
“Read what?” Taylor’s voice trembled. He wondered if he wanted to know.
Corentin furrowed his brows at Aliss, and they spent a long moment in silence. “A journal,” he said. “It was FedExed to me in Sullivan.”
“A previous one?” Taylor asked. “Where did you get it?”
Corentin cast a sideways glance to Gabrielle and Aliss. “My journals have a way of finding me.”
Taylor crossed his arms. “What did it say?”
Corentin didn’t answer. Instead, he rubbed his newly healed thigh. He smiled at Gabrielle. “Good,” he told her before translating. “Doog. Uoy did doog.”
“You’re dodging the question,” Taylor said, tapping his foot. “What did it say?”
Corentin looked at Aliss. She stood, tall and proud. He said nothing.
She smiled. “It’s time he knew.”
Chapter 19: Swept Away Bayou
May 9
In the Deepest Bayous….
TAYLOR HOPPED out of the truck onto the crunchy, frozen grass. Pebbles crackled under his feet. He pulled his coat tighter around himself and then patted hi
s gloved hands together. It had long ago become futile to keep them warm, but at least he could fight the numbness.
The bayou slithered through the cypress trees, the currents vanishing into the cattails and curtains of spanish moss. Only the locals knew how far the swamps reached and where they led, if they led anywhere at all. The cattails splintered under his touch and scattered in thick shards like glass.
Taylor sucked in a gasp at a water moccasin at his feet. But the snake had been frozen solid as it devoured a mouse. Overhead, icicles swayed like wind chimes, and they tinkled out a nonsense tune.
Ringo kept close to Taylor, his wings fluttering with their own oddly happy tune. “You know what would have been super helpful? If you had the power of summer. That would be amazing, right?”
Taylor didn’t answer. He nibbled his lip as Corentin took the lead into the brush. Out of the many faded memories, it was like Corentin knew exactly where to go. It wasn’t a memory; it was a hunter’s instinct.
Corentin stopped at the shoreline, silently watching and waiting for something to appear.
Taylor furrowed his brows in concern. Had it been like this a couple of years back when Corentin had found Taylor on the Jersey shore? Watching the gray waves, waiting for his life to click together? Waiting to stop being so lonely? Waiting to realize Corentin was on his side?
He hadn’t let Corentin in then. He hadn’t been ready to admit he needed him; unsure he was ready for the kind of life they’d ended up leading. He had lain there as Corentin grinned with him pinned to the beach—had been ready to kiss Corentin, but then panicked. He had pushed Corentin away, not because he didn’t want to kiss, but because at the time it wouldn’t have meant anything. He had to wait for it to mean something. He had to be sure.
Now, as Corentin stared over the bayou, and the icy swamp water cracked with troubling snaps and grinds, Taylor wasn’t sure if Corentin had ever let him in.
Aliss hung back at the truck, and she nodded for Taylor to go on ahead of her. Hesitantly, he obeyed and headed to Corentin’s side.
They stood in silence, neither looking at the other. Both of them watched the snow flurries drift over the flat, frozen water. The wind pushed against the cypress trees just enough that branches snapped and shattered against the cold ground. Like cinder blocks on concrete, the natural beauty of the bayou smashed into nothing.