by Casey White
I’m sorry, he whispered silently. I wasn’t...I’m not trying to get rid of you. I’m not pawning you off anytime soon.
Even if he said as much, he couldn’t keep the thrill of interest from burning in his chest. Maybe she wouldn’t notice.
Maybe.
Interest or not, there was no getting around what Indira meant. “You want me to expose myself to you,” he said softly, letting his eyes drop back to meet Indira’s. “Outside. You want me to give up the mask.”
“I don’t see another way,” Indira said. “We’d seek to protect your identity as best we could. We’re not going public. But if we’re to get to the bottom of this, we have to be able to see you. To study Alexandria, and whatever it is that connects the two of you. We’d-”
“I’m sorry.”
Indira blinked, coming to a stop. “What?”
Owl took a deep breath. It sounded...well, as much as he didn’t fancy handing Alexandria over to a stranger, walking away from his legacy, the prospect of a normal life was more tempting than he really wanted to admit. But not if it meant exposing himself. If he agreed, if he took off the mask, somehow he knew it’d only be a matter of time before he woke up with Indira’s hands around his neck.
The fact Indira had played him once already only sealed the deal in his mind.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, clasping his hands like he’d become her mirror image. “That...goes too far. I have a responsibility. A duty. Even if it wasn’t one I chose, I…” He shook his head, smiling ruefully. “I cannot accept such an unpalatable proposal, guildmaster.”
Her face contorted, her brows drawing together. “But- Owl, if you’ll only-”
“I’ll need to put some thought into how guests should be handled moving forward,” Owl said, standing a little straighter. “The past few visits have shown there are some flaws in my screening process.”
“If you’ll only-”
“I’ll contact you again if the services of the guild should be required.” The words turned to ash in his mouth. Maybe it was too strong. Too bold.
But he needed her to know. To recognize how deep the knife her guild had driven into his side went.
She stared at him for a long moment, her dark eyes searching his mask. For a second, he thought she’d start to protest again. To try and convince him.
And then Indira bowed her head, tearing her eyes off him. He sat back on his heels, feeling a nearly-palpable blow as their eye contact broke. “I see,” she said, her voice soft. “I...understand. I hope that you’ll reconsider, Librarian. I believe...this could be something good. For both of us.”
His hands tightened. “Thank you for visiting, guildmaster.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes. Of course.”
Her mouth hung open for a moment, her shoulders raising with the shadow of an indrawn breath. She spun before she could say anything, though, striding toward the exit.
There. Owl exhaled. She was leaving.
Just as quickly, though, Indira twisted back, lowering herself into a polite bow. “I apologize again,” she said, her voice wooden. “For Olivia’s impropriety. And for my...presumptions. Truly, I am sorry.”
Owl allowed himself to nod, just once. Indira raised herself, a bitter smile on her lips. Without another word, she turned back to the door, reaching out her hand.
Light flared through the entryway, bright enough Owl winced. He didn’t blink, though, didn’t turn to leave. Somehow, it didn’t seem right. He couldn’t just walk away, not when her words still rang in his ears. Not when her offer still filled his thoughts.
It was a door he’d...he’d never thought even existed.
Finding out it was forever closed to him in the same breath made discovering it ache even worse.
He stayed there, watching the door she’d vanished through, until the light behind it faded out to nothing.
- Chapter Four -
The door clicked shut behind Owl.
He drifted away from the entryway, his coat billowing behind him gently like a ghost. Alexandria pressed in close around him, her tall shelves and narrow corridors seeming to extend forever. His eyes were downcast, fixed on the floor beneath him as it shifted from rich, plush carpets to cold stone and back to a fur rug.
All the while, his thoughts raced. Indira’s offer was there every time he closed his eyes, her words ringing in his ears. What she said. What she’d promised.
His hands quivered, his fingers trembling. He tucked them into a pocket, refusing to so much as look at them or acknowledge it. It was fine. He was fine. He’d done the best he could.
“See?” he whispered, lifting his chin at last. His eyes fixed on the chandeliers high overhead, hanging from rafters that seemed a mile up. “I didn’t abandon you. I did my duty.”
The words echoed out into the void. His confidence cracked. “Right?”
Without waiting for an answer that’d never come, he took a deep breath and turned back to the path.
It’d be good. He nodded, fixing the thought in his mind. He could take the time for the things that were really important, instead of worrying about Indira’s lackeys flitting about the Library. He could get back to his own research, and decide what he wanted for his own future.
It was good.
Turning a corner into a new wing, Owl froze. Lackeys in the Library—right. For the first time, he remembered that Alexandria wasn’t so abandoned, and he wasn’t alone here. He’d been talking to Leon and the others before Indira had arrived.
Maybe they’d left. It’d been a good while since he was called into the entryway. He shouldn’t get his hopes up.
But up they were. After so many years of solitude in the Library, the idea of being alone shouldn’t bother him so much, damn it. Knowing that didn’t change the fact his heart leapt a little.
Owl lifted his chin, his shoulders straightening a fraction of an inch. “Hey,” he said, his voice vanishing into the endless books that lined the walls. “Are they...are they here still?”
He kept walking, casting a glance to either side. When no door opened, no candle flickered, he sighed. “Alex? Are you-”
A low breeze whistled through the halls, right on the edge of hearing. The screech of tired hinges echoed through the Library.
Owl stopped abruptly, grabbing hold of a door frame. There. The door led to a cloistered hall, its domed top covered in rough-carved symbols and drawings—and at the end, another door swung open.
“Thanks,” he said, starting to grin behind his mask. “Really.” Before Alex could change her mind, he plunged down the hallway toward that point of light.
With every step, a low rumble grew. Voices. His grin widened. The doorway loomed ahead. Raising a hand, he pushed the door aside and strode into the open.
He’d expected to be blinded. Knowing Alexandria and the games she liked to play, he’d expected himself to charge out into brilliant sunlight. Instead, the room beyond was almost...soft. Cozy. It felt like that room and his quarters had been cut from the same cloth, all smooth-planed wood and warm fires. A wooden bar sat along one wall, carved from a dark, soft timber.
A familiar face stood behind it—and another pair sat on a bench in the room’s middle. One lifted his head, his eyes lighting up.
“Hey,” Leon said, planting his hands on the table and leaping upright. “That didn’t take long.”
Owl blinked. It hadn’t? It felt like it’d been a lifetime since he’d walked out. It’d been an eternity in that room with the guildmaster, and a second one as he wandered the halls. “Really?” he said.
Leon pursed his lips, leaning back in his chair. He lifted something—a cup, filled with a brightly-colored liquid. “You get...everything squared away?”
“Want a drink?” Maya said, across the table from Leon. She twisted, gesturing toward James behind the bar. “Hey, James. How about getting the Librarian here-”
“I’m good,” Owl said, waving a hand in front of his face. “You know. The, uh. Mask.�
�
“Oh,” Maya said, and she winced. “Yeah. I suppose that, uh…Yeah.”
“Don’t mind me,” Owl said. “Don’t let me bother you. Just...continue.”
Maya flashed a grin his way, scooting a little farther forward on her seat, and just like that, she was off yelling at James again. Something about a brunch, and something he’d said in front of...someone. Owl hardly heard them. The words were just a blur, lingering at the edges of his senses.
Stepping further into the room, he crossed to the table. The seats on the end were open. He sank into one with a grateful sigh.
A fire burned in a fireplace adjacent to him. He could have sworn it burned a little brighter at his arrival. A smile flashed across his lips. This is nice, he murmured. Thanks. I know...things are a little messy. I don’t really know what we’ll do, just yet. But...somehow, we’ll-
The bench creaked. Owl looked up.
Leon settled into the open space beside him, his cheeks flushed. The heat, or the drink, or the laughter that still burbled around the room. Owl wasn’t quite sure.
“Well?” Leon said.
Owl blinked. “What?”
Pursing his lips, Leon looked askance at him. “Oh, I don’t know. You just ran off for twenty minutes to somewhere, off to meet someone. After telling us a hell of a horror story, I might add.” His teeth flashed white. “Any more fires?”
Owl chuckled. “No. No fires, this time.”
“Well,” Leon said, nudging him with his elbow. “There’s that, at least. See, it could be worse.”
It could. It could always be worse. Owl nodded, staring down at the table. “Yep,” he said softly. “I’ve got nothing to complain about.”
He didn’t. He didn’t. He repeated that in his mind over and over, until it’d been hammered into his very thoughts. Alexandria had been...a gift. A boon. Sure, he’d been ripped free from time and left to drift, and sure, he’d been forced to live a lie to everyone on the outside, but...it’d given him access to anything he wanted. Any knowledge, any dream.
He was fortunate.
“Shit,” Leon said. “That bad, huh?”
Owl glanced his way, finding the man grinning sheepishly back at him. “W-What?” he said. “I just said-”
“That you’ve got nothing to complain about,” Leon said. “I heard you. But damn, you said it with this pathetic-ass voice. What the hell’d you find, after the bells rang?”
Caught in place, Owl stared at him—and then he sighed.
Little by little, low enough that Maya and James wouldn’t be disturbed, he explained. About Indira’s offer. About her promise of help. And about what she’d asked for in return.
By the end of it, Leon’s smile was gone. He looked pale, too, his skin white underneath the brassy waves of his hair. “Well, that’s a bunch of-”
“I know,” Owl mumbled. “That’s...why I told her no.”
“Good.” Leon nodded, his eyes sharp. “Shit, she’d probably just sell you out the first chance she got—or she’d try and manipulate you into helping them again.”
Owl nodded slowly, the motion almost an automatic urge. “Yeah,” he said. “You think so?”
“Are you kidding me?” Leon burst out. “Shit. She’s a snake, that’s all. God, I’ve met exactly her type before. All they think about is themselves.”
“I guess.”
“What, you don’t believe me?”
Owl shook his head, still staring off into empty space. “I- No, it’s not that I don’t believe you. I get it. She’s...I don’t think she’s all that bad, but she’s definitely...self-interested.”
Leon eyed him long and hard. “But.”
“But, I...I don’t know,” Owl mumbled. “I just...I…”
“You liked her offer,” Leon said, going still at last. “You did, didn’t you?”
Owl was grateful for the mask. It kept Leon from seeing the flush spreading across his cheeks. “No. I mean, sometimes, but- It’s complicated.”
A chuckle rippled from Leon’s throat. “What complication? It’s just you and an ancient, magical library-woman, floating through time and space. That’s so simple.”
Owl snorted. “Pretty much. I’ll be fine. I just-”
“Do you hate this that much?” Leon said. Again, his voice had gone hushed. Owl looked up. Leon wasn’t looking at him, anymore. His hands rested on the table before him, clasped around each other with his drink clutched in the middle. “Being the Librarian. Being here. Her.”
Owl swallowed. “That’s a lot of questions.”
A grin flashed across Leon’s face. “Well. Any of it.”
“Not...Not really,” Owl said. “Sometimes. I just...I want to have the choice, you know?” He spread his hands flat across the table, feeling the woodgrain sinking through the leather of his gloves. “I don’t want to get rid of her. I just…” He sighed. “I’d like this to be a bit more of an equal relationship,” he mumbled. “But...I’ll be fine.”
Silence hung over the table, punctuated by the occasional jeer from James and Maya. Owl forced a smile. “Sorry. I don’t- I didn’t mean to make this all about-”
Something brushed against his back. He jumped.
Leon’s arm settled across his shoulders, draped with casual ease. “Jesus, I told you to knock that off,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re pathetic, you know that?”
“Shut the hell up.”
Leon only snorted, his laughter building. “Stop freaking out, and just calm down. We’ll figure it out.”
Owl nodded. It was so damn easy for Leon to say that—he wasn’t the one staring down forever. He hadn’t realized how much that bothered him until he was put face to face with it.
The room was warm, though, with the smell of pine and woodsmoke filling the air. Leon’s leg was pressed against his, burning like a second fire.
“I guess,” he whispered, nodding once more.
Leon’s fingers squeezed against his arm. “So buck the fuck up, little soldier. Stop being a sad sack for ten minutes, and we’ll help you.”
“Oh, go to-”
“James!” Leon cried, turning away from Owl again. “Tell Owl what you were telling me earlier. About-”
“No,” James said, looking up from the drink he was mixing. Already, his face was bright red. “Damn it, Leon, I told you not to-”
“Aw, c’mon,” Leon said, with a distinctly vicious grin. “It was funny.”
James rolled his eyes, fixing him with an exasperated look.
Leon was trying to cheer him up, Owl knew. As were the others, probably. They were trying to distract him. He smiled, and for a moment, the expression was entirely genuine.
Trapped or not, Alexandria or no Alexandria, friends like this were better than he deserved.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and let their conversation engulf him. Just for a while, Indira’s whispers faded to nothing.
* * * * *
Daniel leaned back in his chair, groaning. The screens of his computer glowed against the steadily-darkening room. It’d be night soon. But...he’d been productive.
Here, on his own outside-world PC, he’d finally done it—finally assembled the framework for what might someday become a second Alexandria. Eventually, he might even find a way to access her from out here. Maybe. It...probably wasn’t smart, but he was at least considering it.
Otherwise? He’d at least be able to begin recreating her, given time. And he could use those building blocks to build her, more than just her knowledge. He smiled. What would Alex sound like, if she could choose a voice? If she wasn’t just limited to rattling locked doors and dropping books on his head? He closed his eyes, and for a moment, he heard it again—that voice, that’d spoken to him while the Library burned. Would she choose that, if she could, or something else entirely?
That was a question for the future, though. Daniel nodded, brushing a strand of hair back behind one ear. He’d get there, one step at a time.
He�
�d decided to keep moving forward, and he would.
Something in his chest still twinged, still longed for the thought of just being free to be himself. The rest of him stomped down on that hard and fast. Don’t do that, his thoughts hissed. Don’t whine. Don’t mope. Make the most of it.
So he would. Together with Alexandria. He’d keep moving, until he found his own place. And so…
Reaching out, he took his phone in hand. Painfully slow, he lifted it, turning its screen to face him. It lit up, bright and welcoming.
Daniel sighed. Something about this...it still felt like giving in. Like going right back to the life he’d so-recently abandoned.
But he didn’t have a lot of choice. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of a way to change his situation. Making the most of it was the next best thing. He wouldn’t get outside, and he...he wouldn’t get the friends he’d made. He wouldn’t get Leon. Best he got that through his head now—and that didn’t mean he couldn’t have anything at all.
The messenger app appeared under his thumb. He pulled it up, lips pressed tightly together. A pair of familiar names appeared at the top of the screen.
Lucas, Nate. You guys free tonight? I’m bored.
Moving to hit send, he paused, frowning.
This was fine. He’d make it be fine.
Before he could stop himself or mull it over again, he jabbed the button. The message disappeared into the nether. The phone dropped back to his desk a moment later, landing with a heavy clack.
And Daniel leaned away once more, lacing his fingers behind his head.
It might take a while, but he’d be fine.
- Chapter Five -
Owl stared down at the tiny, faintly-glowing box—the culmination of his efforts for what felt like an eternity. Without guests in the Library, it was harder than ever to track the passage of time. But there it was, smack dab in the middle of the table where it could be the center of attention. For once, it felt good for something besides for him to fill that role.
“So that’s it?” Leon said, leaning in. His brows furrowed, drawing together delicately.