by Casey White
“Hey,” he said, forcing himself to sit up a little straighter.
Leon’s finger swiped across the raw flesh as Daniel shifted. “Hey,” Leon snapped. “Don’t-”
“About before.”
Leon jumped, his fingers brushing across the wound again. Daniel held himself steady, refusing to flinch away. Leon licked his lips. “It’s- I don’t know what you’re-”
“Come on,” Daniel said. “You do know.”
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Leon muttered. His head drooped forward, half-hidden behind his shoulders, his face vanishing from sight. “Idiot. I...I never should have-”
“Leon, I-”
“I’m sorry, Owl,” Leon said, his voice tight. The name was like a slap across Daniel’s face, stinging worse than his leg. “I shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable. I apologize. It won’t-”
“I’m glad,” Daniel said. A thin flicker of amusement flashed through him as Leon came screeching to a stop again, his mouth still open. “I was...happy. To know.”
Leon’s hands hovered over Daniel’s leg, coated in blood and salve. His eyes were glued to the wound—until they darted up to meet Daniel’s, then tore away again. “Uh. I mean, you...you were?”
Daniel grinned, nodding toward the still-open case and the bandages within. “H-How long?”
“What?” Leon said, reaching out numbly to grab at the roll. “What do you mean, how-”
“How long did you know? That you felt like this.”
He saw Leon swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing. And then Leon turned back to his leg, starting to unroll the bandage. “Since...I don’t know.” He sighed. “Since that day, I guess. When the Library collapsed. With those two guests. When you made that dome, and we hid under it, and-”
“I remember,” Daniel said. He bit back a yelp as Leon started to wrap the wound, squeezing the still-oozing limb tightly. “Ow,” he settled for, screwing up his face.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Daniel said, balling up his hands against another wave of pain. “Y-You’re not the bastard that shot me. You’re trying to help.”
Leon made a noise that sounded vaguely like an agreement. The study went quiet. Daniel raised his leg another inch, letting Leon wrap the bandages around again.
“Maybe it’s been longer,” Leon mumbled.
Longer, eh? Daniel leaned back against the wall, a smile playing at his lips. “I wondered,” he whispered. “Why you kept coming back. Why you-” He stopped, wincing again, as Leon pulled the wrap snug.
“I mean, you can’t really blame me,” Leon said. Daniel’s heart lifted. He still sounded tense, terrified, but a note of exasperation slipped into his voice. “Alexandria is...the coolest. It’s magic. A magic library with a magic Librarian, that no one else knew about.” His nose wrinkled. “It was just ours. A secret, just for the two of us. And then...The more I visited…”
His eyes lifted, holding Daniel’s gaze for the briefest of moments. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Come on. You can’t tell me you never felt the same way.”
“I’m the Librarian,” Daniel said. He reached across, sliding his fingers across the smooth clay of his mask—the mask he should be wearing. “I couldn’t…” His shoulders slumped. “Even if it was proper, which...it’s not…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t...it’d be impossible to have that sort of relationship. Like this. Like us. So I tried to just ignore it.”
Leon snorted. “Well, that plan worked out well long-term”
Daniel laughed, shaking his head, but his eyes dropped to the floor. “I...I don’t know how it all went so wrong. Maybe if I...If I’d listened to Indira, we could’ve-”
“Hey.” Leon tied one last knot, then sat back on his heels, his expression serious. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know. I know that. But, if I’d-”
“She wanted something you couldn’t give,” Leon said. “And if there’s bad blood between this guild of hers and the Librarians, it’s nothing you did.”
Daniel looked up. Leon smiled back at him, even if the smile was small and thin. “Right?”
“I guess,” Daniel mumbled.
“It sounds like this has all been coming for a long time.” Leon ran a hand through his hair, making a face. “A long time. And you never asked to be Librarian.”
“I suppose,” Daniel echoed. Something flashed through his mind—a park at dusk. An old woman, smiling down at him with exhaustion in every line and wrinkle on her face. A mask, black and feathered, with-
“So come on,” Leon said, cutting his thoughts off neatly. Again, Daniel looked up.
Leon held a hand out toward him, waiting patiently. “I’ve done all I can here, I think,” he said. “So how’s about we get some actual medical training?” His smile went crooked. “I think you’re still bleeding out there, so…”
“Time in Alex works differently,” Daniel mumbled. “We’re good for a while.” But he let Leon take his hand, hauling him unsteadily to his feet. His friend slung his arm over his shoulders, taking the brunt of Daniel’s weight.
“Okay,” Leon said. His voice was still pointedly cheerful, as though they weren’t in the middle of a blood-soaked shitstorm. “Where’s your Alex hiding the textbooks this time?”
“I think,” Daniel began, but paused.
Leon was right. He’d been patched up here, but out in the real world, he was still lying gunshot in the backseat of Maya’s car. There was no way to tell how long Alex would keep them here, considering this was about the most irregular visit he’d ever made.
But…
Hoisted against Leon like this, he could feel the pipe tucked into his jacket, pressing against both of their sides. If what he feared was correct….Daniel shook his head, sublimating the idea. He didn’t know. He didn’t know, and he couldn’t afford to guess. Not when the stakes were this high.
But if he was right, then there might be something more important than Daniel’s gunshot leg.
“Actually,” Daniel rasped, pulling back as Leon started leading them deeper into the Library. “There’s...something I want to look into.”
Leon stopped— and twisted, craning his head around until they were nearly eye to eye. “What? What is it?”
Daniel smiled grimly.
“Come with me.”
- Chapter Eighteen -
With a hollow ache burning through his limbs and the winds shrieking overhead, the Library had never seemed so cold and foreign. Daniel stumbled onward, fighting for control of his ungainly, still-wounded leg.
Through it all, Leon’s arm stayed around his shoulders, steadying him. He wasn’t dragging Daniel around, not anymore, but...he wasn’t about to go far, either. Daniel smiled thinly.
At least something good might come out of this whole mess yet.
Silence filled the hallway around them as they picked their way back out of the wings toward Alexandria’s heart. But even if neither spoke, Daniel saw Leon glance over now and again, and sighed. Right back to sneaking looks, then.
“You can just look,” he said, swallowing a groan. “T-This is...It’s weird for me too.”
“Okay, thank you,” Leon said, breaking into a nervous grin. “I mean, it needed to be said. For you to be, like…without your…” He waved his free hand toward Daniel, his fingers splaying down to include his whole costume.
“I keep feeling like I need to pull my hood up,” Daniel said. “But- I mean, it’s not like I’m worried, exactly.”
“I won’t tell.” This time, Leon’s voice was quieter, more serious, even if it still quivered with excitement. “I’ll never say a word. About any of it. You, and- and your name, and-”
“I know,” Daniel mumbled. “I believe you.” And he found that he did. Leon wasn’t the type of guy to sell him out—not after all this time.
“W-Well,” Leon said. “Good. Just as long as you know.”
Daniel let his eyes drop forward, tracing out the lines between the stones of the floor
as they moved farther toward Alexandria’s heart.
Already, his thoughts were starting to move ahead to what came next. To what he’d have to learn—about healing, but also...about his fears. And if it was true-
He shook his head. Time enough for that when they knew, when he wasn’t worrying himself over what-ifs.
“Didn’t expect the long hair, either” Leon muttered. “Didn’t see you as that type at all.”
Daniel blinked. And then he shot an amused glance over to Leon, who was pointedly looking in the other direction. “Come on,” he said. “It just- It kind of happened, okay? Don’t complain at me.”
“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Leon said with a chuckle. “I’m just saying. Really living up the bookish hipster aesthetic, aren’t you?”
“Stuff it,” Daniel mumbled. His cheeks burned.
Leon snorted—and stepped away from Daniel, toward the door that waited in front of them. It came open at his push, exposing the familiar sight of the sitting room.
On any other day, any other visit, the two chairs sitting in front of the hearth would have relaxed Daniel instantly. This was a comfortable place, the place for him and his guests to unwind, to share stories and let their studies fall away for a few hours.
Now, though, the ache in his chest tightened. He wasn’t here to relax. He was here to do something he really, really shouldn’t.
“Okay,” Leon said. “What are we-”
Daniel lumbered forward, forcing his stiff leg to bend beneath him. The sitting room passed by as he moved, until at last, something else came into view. A door, heavy and set with iron, emblazoned with a tiny white owl at its center.
His hand dropped to the latch. “Sorry, Alex,” he mumbled, squeezing gently. “I didn’t want this.” And then he pulled.
The door resisted, sticking in its frame as though fighting the inevitable. He tugged harder, jerking the latch, and the hinges gave way in a screech of metal.
The door came open.
Daniel stumbled back, wobbling. Leon’s hands grabbed at his shoulders. “Hey,” he heard Leon say. “Take it easy. You shouldn’t-”
“Let’s go,” Daniel said. He pulled himself a little straighter. Forcing himself back into motion, he started forward, and-
“Woah,” Leon said. Daniel froze, glancing over his shoulder. His friend stood back, pale-faced, with his hands upraised. “I-I don’t think I should. That’s- That’s your room, right? The Librarian’s?”
Daniel’s brow furrowed. “Yeah. Why? It’s just-”
“I don’t think I’m supposed to be in there,” Leon mumbled, shaking his head. “It’s- It’s off limits, isn’t it? That’s-”
“I’m saying it’s fine,” Daniel said, giving Leon a look filled with weary exasperation. It was sweet that Leon was so concerned with the rules, but damn it, he hurt. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner they knew, the sooner he could rest. “You’re with me, so don’t worry. It’s fine.”
Daniel took a step into the bedroom, but when Leon followed, it was with visible reluctance. “And has it been fine for anyone else?” he heard Leon mutter.
“No,” Daniel said simply—and reached out, snagging Leon’s hand. “Come on.”
Together, they left the sitting room, entering Owl’s quarters.
On a different day, Daniel might have been embarrassed for Leon to be there in his room. Out of all Alexandria, this was the only place that was his, free from prying eyes. It was his—all of it. The paintings on the walls were ones he’d whiled away quiet evenings crafting. The gardens visible through the window were ones he’d planted with his own hands. In a way, that room was a window right into his own self, and the thought of showing it to someone else, even Leon, made him squirm.
They didn’t have time for him to be anxious about it. Without casting so much as a look to the room around them, Daniel led Leon to the bookshelf-covered side wall of the room. His heart thudded in his chest louder than ever.
Here it was—the forbidden room, the bit that he was very much not supposed to share. In all the years since Alexandria had come into existence, he might be the first person to expose this secret, he realized. The thought wasn’t comforting.
But he had to know, and things had already gone beyond those concerns.
When he teetered to a stop, steadying his leg underneath him, he slid his hand free of Leon’s, laying it flat against the shelf in front of him.
“Books?” Leon said. “I...Are these special, or something? Why couldn’t Alex have just-”
“They’re special,” Daniel said with a tiny, sad smile, letting his eyes linger on the journals. These were emblazoned with a fox drawn in muted oranges and reds. He could almost remember reading them, centuries past, but the Librarian’s name was long gone from his memories. “But we’re not here for them.”
He tensed his fingers, squeezing, and pulled. The shelf shuddered, but held.
Daniel sighed. “Please,” he whispered.
Leon shifted uncomfortably behind him. “Please? What’s, uh. What’s-”
Daniel pulled again, and this time, the shelf moved. He heard Leon gasp, skittering back.
The passage down was right where he remembered, just a narrow set of stairs coiling down with a lantern at the top filling the world with an eerie blue light. He stepped forward, slotting the key into the grate blocking it off. The lock settled home with a clang, and he pushed the metal bars open. “Come on,” he said, more quietly. “We’ve got a bit to go yet.”
“Holy shit.”
Daniel laughed sourly. “I know. Come on.”
He started forward, grabbing at the wall for stability. This was going to be a damn long walk, he realized, when the bandages wrapping his leg meant he couldn’t bend it more than a little. There was no elevator, though. Shy of sitting down on his ass and scooting, there wasn’t an easier way. And...he sighed. He’d have to climb back up, after.
Lovely.
Another screech of metal on metal rang out before he could start his descent. Daniel whirled, spinning in time to see the barred door fly back towards the latch.
“H-Hey!” Leon yelped, thrusting himself forward. The edge of the door slammed into his shoulder, pinning him against the frame, and he hissed in pain. “What the hell? It’s- I can’t-”
“Alex!” Daniel gasped, lurching back. He grabbed at the bars, trying to plant his feet and yank it back open, but it was hard enough to balance. “Stop it!”
The metal bars didn’t budge—but somewhere, deep underneath them, something started to shake.
It grew louder and louder, like an earthquake had somehow struck underneath Alexandria. Dust fell from the rafters. The chandeliers overhead wobbled, their candles starting to flicker and go out. Wind howled through the windows.
“I- I know!” Daniel cried, dropping his forehead to the bars. “Just work with me, okay?”
Leon didn’t say a word. From the wide-eyed set of his expression and the sheen of sweat starting to glisten on his temples, he’d pieced together some of what was happening. Daniel smiled grimly. He’d always been smart.
“I know it’s not what you want,” he hissed through gritted teeth, tightening his hold on the bars. They were still sunk into Leon’s chest, leaving puffed-up sections of fabric and flesh between each slat of the grating. “I know. But- It’s Leon. I need his help. We’re in trouble, Alex.”
He fell quiet then, still tugging at the door—and still, Alexandria didn’t seem to want to let up. Finally, his chin snapped up, and he glared toward the ceiling.
“You put him here,” Daniel spat, his eyes narrowing. “You’re the one who put Leon in the middle of this, Alex. It’s your doing. You don’t get to be angry now, when the shit you pull comes back to bite me. Let me do my job, damn it.”
The rumbling under his feet slowed, diminishing to a low, faint tremble, but the wind howled still.
Daniel smiled faintly, a wry note creeping through his frustrations. “You’re the one who
put him here,” he whispered. “You wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t trust him. Right?”
Especially now that things between him and Leon had...changed, when he was starting to have some sneaking suspicions about Alex’s motives from the start.
Please, he willed, squeezing the bars. Please, Alex. I’m trying. Just-
The hinges gave way as quickly and smoothly as though they’d been greased. Daniel fell backward with a startled yelp, landing on his ass at the head of the stairs. Leon’s cry rang in his ears. A set of hands grabbed him in the next instant.
“You good?” Leon gasped.
Daniel squeezed an eye open, locking gazes with him—and smiled. The doorway behind them hung open, even if the lights in the bedroom beyond were flickering. “Yep,” he whispered. “I’m just fine.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Leon said, still wide-eyed. He stood, though, pulling Daniel to his feet along with him.
Daniel sighed. “It’ll...be easier to show you.” Wincing at the fresh rush of pain that stabbed through his leg, he reached up, taking the lantern from its hook. “We’ll be there soon.”
Leon’s expression crumpled, but he nodded. “Okay,” he mumbled. “If you’re sure.”
He wasn’t. God, he wasn’t sure about any of this. But one shambling step at a time, Daniel crept forward, leading them down the stairs.
His instincts had been correct—every step was agony, and his shattered balance left him dangerously close to tumbling down the spiral staircase. Knowing how far down it went made him far from eager about the idea. But the stairs were too narrow for Leon to help him, either, so he was left stumbling downward, clinging to whatever he could to keep from falling.
Just a little more, he told himself every time they dropped lower. Just another few steps, and we’ll be there. We’re almost there.
He didn’t even believe it himself. It felt like their descent might as well have been eternal—but eventually, they rounded the final loop.
The landing sprawled out before them. And beyond it...Daniel’s mouth went dry.
Bookshelves, stretching out to the extents of the room, each laden with chained-up books. The golden symbols on their spines gleamed, like they were taunting him.