by Casey White
Closing his eyes, he turned away. He needed to keep moving, before Alexandria disappeared entirely. He needed to find his necklace, and-
His necklace, that Indira had been holding.
Ice flooded his veins. Daniel grabbed at his chest, searching for something he already knew wasn’t there. “Shit,” he gasped. “Oh, shit, Alex. Please. W-What do I do? What should I do now?”
He spun, eyes wide, still clawing at his jacket. “What the hell am I supposed to-”
He stopped.
A woman stood there, between him and Alexandria. Mouse-brown hair hung past her shoulders, framing eyes as green as grass and a face so familiar it ached to the heart of him, only young and filled with life. He’d never seen her before, not like this, as young as he was—only he had, he realized. He’d seen her in distant figures walking the shelves, the shadowy helper protecting him as Alexandria collapsed onto his head. He’d heard her call to him at every turn, right when it mattered the most.
Jean smiled, her eyes sad.
“You,” Daniel whispered, finding his voice. “B-But...Why? How are you-”
“You have to choose,” she said. “The rest….answers always come with time, Daniel. But right now, you have to choose, before the choice is taken away from you forever.”
He shook his head, blinking furiously. His eyes burned. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes,” she said, still smiling faintly. “You do.”
She raised her hand—and there, glittering faintly in the silvery-blue light, hung a necklace. A golden book pendant bounced at its end. His breath hitched. “Impossible,” he whispered. “But it...I saw it…”
Her eyes were fixed to his, sad and shadowed.
“You have to choose.”
- Chapter Thirty-Nine -
Jean.
Here.
In Alexandria. Alive? Or-
“What is this?” Daniel whispered. “What’s going on? Jean...where did you go? I looked for you. For so long, I-
“I know,” Jean said softly. “I’m sorry. For that, and so much else. But-”
The Library groaned, shuddering. The last scraps of wood vanished, disappearing into the fog. All that remained was the concrete beneath them, and the well, and the statue.
Jean didn’t move, even though the Edge was just a few scant feet away. “We don’t have long.”
The necklace dangling from her hand bounced, glittering in the light from the well.
Daniel swallowed, staring at it. “So...I can choose?”
She smiled wryly. “There’s always a choice.”
“To be Librarian.”
“Or to not,” she whispered. “You could say no.”
Life without the Library? Daniel rocked back on his heels, stunned. “Can...Can I? Is that even possible?”
“I don’t know.”
He blinked, looking up. Her eyes were fixed to his, shadowed but steady. “None of this happened how it should,” she said. “I don’t know what would happen if you declined. Maybe…” She sighed. “Maybe you could walk away from all this. Your bond with Alexandria remains...tenuous. Weak enough to break, perhaps.”
Daniel shook his head. Images rose up in his mind, of things he’d read and things he’d heard. “Leon said...What I saw in those books. The mages. Demis. If they lose their magic, they-”
“Die.” On her lips, the word was matter-of-fact, an indisputable truth. “Yes. That could be the outcome here as well.”
“You don’t know?” He tried to keep the plaintive note from his voice, and failed. “You can’t-”
“This has never been done before.” She chuckled softly. “So...no, I don’t know, Daniel. You might die. Alexandria might wither away, ceasing to exist without a Librarian. Or perhaps she’ll return to the world, alone, and find a new host.”
Daniel nodded, chewing on his lip. His mind had stopped dead in its tracks, caught on that moment when she’d said he could choose. To not do this anymore. To leave these halls behind.
He could be free. He could be normal. But if he chose that…
“She might die,” he whispered, lifting his gaze.
Jean stared back at him, her too-young eyes dark. And then she inclined her head.
“B-But,” Daniel said, stumbling closer to her. The fog grew thicker, almost blocking out the light from Alexandria’s well, but the Edge seemed to have stopped. It was waiting, he knew. For him. “But, if Alexandria could die, why? Why would you let me-”
Jean raised her hand. He stopped. The pendant danced at the bottom of its chain, glimmering in the hazy air.
“I put this around your neck once,” she said. Her eyes bored into his, her lips tight. “I won’t do it again.”
There, face to face, it was like that stare of hers was stripping away his defenses, the masks he’d layered on. He swallowed, his throat burning. “Jean, I-”
“Choose.”
Daniel nodded. His eyes prickled. He lifted a hand, rubbing at his face, wiping away the moisture that gathered there.
It was what he’d always wanted. A way out. A way he could live in the same reality as everyone else, not condemned to watch it pass him by, ruined beyond salvaging by the Library’s visits. It was right here, in front of him—and all he’d have to risk was his own safety. Alexandria’s. He’d been prepared to leap at that, just a few years ago. A few months, even.
But now? He took a deep, shuddering breath. His head spun. The possibilities. The futures that could be—or could be lost.
What did he want?
“I hate you,” Daniel whispered, locking gazes with Jean.
She flinched, but didn’t turn or run from that look. Her lips tightened.
He shook his head. The words welled up, screaming in his mind. “I told you before,” he said. A gravestone flashed before his eyes, half-covered in leaves. “I don’t know if you heard me, if you’re in here playing ghost, but-”
“I’m not a ghost,” Jean said, a touch wryly. “Or a dreamer. I’m…” She hesitated, but nodded toward the fog. “Caught. Between. Unable to leave.”
Caught? Daniel’s brows pulled together, but he forced himself to stop. “Whatever. I…” He took a deep breath, straightening. “I can’t forgive you. Ever. What you did to me...you had no right.”
Jean nodded. Her eyes darkened, but that was all. “I know,” she said quietly.
“I had a life. A family. You took all of that away, and made it second fiddle to this...this…” He swept a hand out, yanking it back before the Edge could snap it up. “This sideshow. You ripped out everything that I was, and stuck Alexandria in its place.”
Again, Jean nodded. She didn’t say anything, but he saw her swallow.
“I deserve the right to be mad,” Daniel said. His voice shook. “I deserve the time to be mad about this. As much as I want. This sucks, and you did it to me, knowing damn well I couldn’t fight back. I was a kid, Jean.”
“Daniel, I-”
“But that was a decade and a half ago.”
Jean stopped. Her expression hadn’t changed, but as Daniel watched, a tear fell to her cheek.
He drew in another ragged, shaking breath. “You did this,” he said, more quietly. “I’m still mad about that. But running away now won’t change any of that. And stripping away everything I’ve built for myself since then won’t bring that kid back.”
She hadn’t moved. That same tear carved a path down her cheekbone, infinitely slow.
Her lips twitched, shaping a word she didn’t quite voice.
Choose.
His hand closed around the necklace.
“I’m the Librarian,” Daniel whispered. “I didn’t ask for it, but god damn if I’m going to let you or anyone else take that too.” His lips twitched, struggling into a smile as moisture collected in his eyes. “Alexandria’s mine now. No going back on things.”
Jean giggled, her eyes shining, but those shadows lingered still. Her free hand came up, pressing to her nose. The single tear had fo
und friends. “I...I’m-”
He was still clutching the necklace, as was she. He yanked—and as Jean stumbled forward, yelping, he pulled her into his arms.
Everything came rushing back, then. The crisp, floral scent of her shampoo. The warmth of leather rising from her jacket. The tang of oil and metal, and the ever-present whiff of dust. All of it contained in her arms, right there beside him.
It smelled like home.
“I hate you,” he mumbled, burying his face in her shoulder. “But I still miss you.”
She’d stiffened as he grabbed her, but slowly, her form relaxed. Her arms crept around him, squeezing right back. “You’ve done so well,” she whispered. “I’m proud.”
He laughed, biting back a sob. “I made a mess of everything.”
“Alexandria endures.” He felt her hands tighten against his back. “She will mend. You will fix her. Daniel…”
“Do you have to leave?” he whispered. “I...I’ve got a lot more to say. You gave me a long time to think.”
She laughed—but when she drew back, he let her. Her hand stayed on his arm, holding the two of them together. “I’ll always be here in Alexandria,” she said, smiling faintly. “My death here closed the way out. Remember that—you must leave, before the end comes. And-”
“Always?” he said. His voice shook. “Then you’re...trapped? I...I never wanted you to be-”
“Don’t be sad,” Jean said. “Killing you was my wrongdoing. Staying behind to train you was all I could do to make amends, and I have no regrets.” She reached up, cupping his face between her hands. “And now you’ve gone and grown up.”
“Jean-”
“I’ll always be here,” she whispered. “You’ll never truly be alone. Remember that.” She was still watching him, still smiling, but her skin was paling. Going translucent. In an instant, she was little more than smoke, a mirage. He couldn’t feel the warmth of her hands anymore. “But it’s time, now. You have to go.”
He grabbed it, trying to hold on. “Wait. I’m not-”
She was already gone—but he felt her lips brush his cheek. “Work hard, Librarian,” she murmured.
And then there was only him.
Almost. He lifted his eyes, clutching the necklace more tightly.
Alexandria stared back at him.
“You’ve decided?” she said. She wasn’t blinking, wasn’t moving, but her hair swayed with the slightest currents of the breeze.
Daniel glanced down. The familiar golden book shone up at him, clasped in his palm. And then he nodded.
The chain clinked as he lifted the necklace, settling it back around his neck.
“Yeah,” he said at last, looking back to her. “I have. You’re annoying as hell. But I can’t just leave you, can I?”
She smiled, but her eyes remained deadly serious. “I am not satisfied,” she said.
Daniel blinked. “W-What? Um...Okay, I guess I can give a speech or something, if you’d prefer.”
She didn’t sigh, as such—she just turned her head, looking away, and he got the distinct impression her nostrils flared. “Madis,” she said, enunciating each syllable carefully. “I am not satisfied. He can’t be allowed to run free. Not when I was so close, after so long.” She lifted her hand, letting her gaze fall to it. Blood-red droplets of ink coated her skin, starting to soak in little by little. “I won’t allow it.”
Daniel rocked back on his heels, his eyes going wide. “Uh.”
First Indira, then Jean, and now this. His head spun. “Look, I...I’m not anything special, out there, and he left, right? I don’t know what I can really do.”
Alexandria looked back to him. “You are the Librarian.”
He pressed a hand to the pendant hanging around his neck. The weight of the stylized book pressing into his chest had never been so comforting. “Yeah,” he said, more softly. “But outside of the Library, I’m just-”
“There is no ‘outside’,” Alexandria said. She drew herself up taller, her gaze indignant. “You are the Librarian. You carry me wherever you go, and with me, the gifts I’ve given you.”
This was news to Daniel—but a glimmer of light drew his eyes down to the well, and the water that pooled in its depths.
Water that he could still see churning through the outside-world air.
“You understand.” The voice was smug, satisfied, and Daniel looked back. She was smiling—and as he watched, she extended a hand toward him. “This is what you are. This is what we are. You decided as much, yes?”
He wet his lips, then nodded. “Y-Yes. Only, out there, I’m...trapped, a bit. I don’t see how I can-”
Alexandria made a tiny, irritated noise, jabbing her hand toward him again.
He hesitated a moment. This was stupid. Whatever she was asking for, it was beyond him. He’d still be stuck on some chair, surrounded by people who’d as soon shoot him as let him leave.
“Trust me,” she whispered. He looked up. She was smiling, then, small and faint.
Daniel groaned, rubbing at his face. “Fuck it.”
His palm slapped into hers—and the well erupted.
Daniel had a moment to yell, his words lost to shock, before the waters enveloped him completely.
Her hand stayed around his, though, even as the ground fell away from beneath his feet. Reality was shifting, changing around him. He could hear voices calling, ones that were all too familiar, and not in a good way. Alexandria was kicking him back out into the hornet’s nest.
Before the thought was fully formed, though, her fingers laced with his, squeezing tightly.
He could hear her laughing, low and soft under the roar of the water and their enemies.
“The Librarian never truly leaves his Library.”
Daniel opened his eyes—and the Booklender’s house stretched out before him.
Distantly, his mind whirled, trying to make sense of this. He couldn’t remember waking up—and he’d been drugged, besides—but he was awake, now. He definitely couldn’t remember standing, but he was on his feet. His hands were still bound back, but something surged within him. Something powerful.
Break it, he heard Alexandria whisper. It can’t stand in your way.
All around him, figures were starting to stir as the intruders came awake. Rickard stumbled to his feet, rubbing at his face. Madis was on his knees, his hands flat against the ground, but showed no signs of going farther.
Alexandria’s hand slipped free of his, but he felt her take his shoulders a moment later. Don’t hesitate. Your chance is now, Librarian.
Daniel gritted his teeth, flexing. Blue light flared all around him. His bindings snapped, and he ripped his hands free.
The light didn’t go away, though—and Alexandria’s hold on him only tightened.
Panting, his mind foggy, Daniel watched in shock and horror as water poured across the ground in front of him. Alexandria. Her well. It coursed beneath the figures still struggling to rise, climbing the walls in the blink of an eye. Wherever the ripples touched, they seemed to blot out the world beneath, he realized, superimposing their own. The waters lapping about his ankles rippled, bulging upward.
Shapes erupted from within before he could so much as twitch, glowing as fiercely at the water. Daniel gaped. Alexandria’s hands squeezed tighter about his shoulders.
Bookshelves. They shot skyward, rising almost to the ceiling to fill the building with light. Water dripped from their shelves and off the tops, but the books they held seemed as untouched as ever.
He shuddered as reality twisted, reshaping itself. Hallways stretched. The ceiling rose high overhead. It was as though Alexandria had just grabbed hold of the house they were in, warping and remolding it to her own needs.
Cries rang out around him. The collected Bookbinders and Booklenders stumbled between the shelves, yelling incoherently to each other. Some seemed to be looking for the way out—but others turned to him, raising pistols.
No. His heart raced. He almost took a st
ep back, but those hands on his shoulders pushed back.
Do not run. Do not give in to them now. Rise.
Daniel exhaled. Smoke was starting to fill the room, seeping out from where the spectral shelves were pressed against the walls, the ceiling. His hand came up.
The water moved with him. A silvery arm raised from the depths, swinging wildly.
Images flashed through his mind. Runes, and circles, and strange lines he couldn't quite wrap his mind around. His lips shaped words he’d never heard before.
Under it all, he heard Alexandria’s voice, whispering it along with him. Feeding it into his thoughts.
He hissed something, coming to a stop—and the water filling the room erupted again. Silvery hands surged from the depths, grabbing for anyone within reach. Daniel stared, aghast, as one latched onto the leg of the Bookbinder in front of him.
The man screamed, lurching—and fired.
The bullet never reached Daniel. The air in front of him shimmered, thickening with a thought. He stared, uncomprehending, at the tiny metallic speck hanging in midair.
The man’s screams brought the world screeching back down around him. He looked up. The waters spread across the gunman’s skin, coating him just as easily as they had the walls. With one final shriek, the tide closed over his head.
And then the ocean collapsed on itself, crashing back to the ground. The man was just...gone.
Daniel shivered. The cries around him grew louder. Alex, what-
He’s close. Forward. You must continue. Her voice tightened, ringing in his ears with ruthless intensity. They would have killed you. They still would. Their souls are free here—so do not hesitate to do as you must. Quickly.
He swallowed hard, standing a bit taller. Apparently, the rules inside didn’t matter here, even if Alexandria went on about how he ‘never left’. And… they had been holding him hostage, probing around in his mind. They’d been happy to use him.
He’d do what he had to do.
One way or another, he would get out of here.
Lurching forward, Daniel stumbled toward the nearest aisle between the bookshelves. The room was unrecognizable from how it’d been, the ceiling rising into the high vault Alex favored. He wasn’t even sure it was the same house, anymore.