The Librarian: A Remnants of Magic Novel (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 2) by Casey White (reading list txt) 📗

a grip on things.  Now, with this...even that last grasp on stability was fracturing, falling away.  And he didn’t know what to do.  What he could do.

Something splashed against his forehead.  The world blurred again, fading to black.  He sagged, not bothering to fight it.

Whatever you’re going to do, Leon, hurry up.

- Chapter Thirty-Seven -

Reality snapped back into place like a rubber band slapping him in the face.

Daniel groaned, grimacing, and curled in on himself.  His head ached, and that prickling across his skin had gotten worse.  It was starting to sting, like fingernails across a bad sunburn, and given what he knew about the magical artifacts of the world, none of that seemed like a good thing.

But he was back in Alexandria—and so was Madis.  He didn’t have time to curl into a ball, feeling sorry for himself.

Lifting himself on his arms, he looked around groggily.

And stopped.

“Alex?” Daniel whispered.  His lips were parted, his mouth hanging open just a little.

Because Alexandria had changed.

He sat sprawled in the middle of a study, the bookshelves rising high around him—but where once they’d been filled with books, now they were empty.  Even the structure itself seemed less grand, more bare wood and less tapestries.  Smaller.  Sadder.  Dust covered every surface, as though not a soul had been there in ages.  As though it’d been an eternity since she’d been read.

“What’s wrong?” Daniel said, staggering to his feet.  He wobbled, teetering ominously, but straightened.  “Alex, what happened?  Where’d the books go?”

“There must always be a Librarian,” a woman said quietly.  “You know this.  And right now, she’s...confused.”

Daniel glanced over.  He could see her—damn it, he knew she was there—but the instant his eyes settled onto her form, she vanished into black mists.

His hand rose, pressing to his chest.  He’d been in his uniform, the last time he came here.  Now, he was dressed as plainly as he was outside, just a tee and bloodstained jeans.  Somewhere in the taking of him, even his jacket must have been lost.

And there was nothing around his neck.

“Come on,” he whispered, focusing.  “I know you’re there.  Come on.”

Nothing.  No chain appearing under his fingers, no pendant dangling along his sternum.  The necklace was gone.

“Okay,” he whispered, his unease growing by the second.  “So...is this what it’s like inside the Library when it’s closed?  Is this-”

A voice called from somewhere nearby.  Daniel froze.

Nothing.  Just...more quiet.  But he’d heard it.  If Madis was in here, then Daniel needed to hurry up and stop him.  With how much he’d seemed to know about Alexandria, there was no telling the destruction he could cause.

He hurried forward, his eyes on the bare-bones archway ahead—but something flickered at the edge of his vision.  He slowed, glancing to the side, where a tall, wide window sat waiting.

Outside was just...nothing.  Dead grass and the flat terrain of the practice grounds.  Beyond that, the world faded out to blurry nothingness where-

Daniel blinked—and gaped, his blood chilling.

It looked like the Edge was moving.  Like it was drawing closer.  But surely that was impossible.  The Edge just was.  It was a constant, the boundary of Alexandria’s domain and-

A bush vanished into the fog, a puff of leaves billowing away on the wind before they, too, were swallowed up.

“No,” Daniel said, stumbling away from the window.  “Alex?  What’s happening?  What should I-”

Another call from beyond the room—this time, accompanied by a laugh.  Daniel glanced toward the sound, then back to the still-approaching Edge.

“Hold on,” he whispered.  “I’ll figure something out.”

Spinning away, he bolted for the archway.

Fighting to keep from stumbling, he followed the Library where it led him.  What he saw shook him all the way to his core.  The halls were bare.  The studies seemed to grow smaller, dingier with every iteration, until he passed through one that might as well have been an empty warehouse, all bare concrete and metal racks.

The sound of voices led him on, farther than a voice had any right to carry, until at last, he opened a door and saw three figures striding down the hallway farther ahead.

“And you’re sure this is the right way?” Indira.  She sounded unsure—and when Daniel peered across the distance, she clung to Madis’s side, looking around with dismay.  “I do not understand what you’re hoping to find.”

“It’s quite simple,” Madis said with a dramatic sigh, sweeping a hand out to gesture at the Library around them.  “This place is alive, in a way.  Everything living has a core, does it not?  A heart.  A wellspring.”

“Then you think-”

“What’s that?” Rickard said, twisting back around.

Too late.  Daniel had already lunged from the shadows, all his fear and anger focused into a single, red-hot point.  One hand thrust forward, like he was plunging a knife into the trio.  The wind rose to gale strength, coursing across the distance to slam into them.

He’d drive them apart, and then pin them, and-

Madis turned.  His hand came up, his lips pulling down into a frown.

The winds slammed back into him, reversing course in the blink of an eye.  He fought for control, his legs tensed.  Hold them.  The floorboards around the trio splintered, shaping into a jagged ridge.  Higher.  Wooden bars shot toward the ceiling.

Rickard stiffened, starting to come to the ready, but Madis brought his hand across sharply, like a blade.  The bars sheared off in an instant, flying back across the distance like missiles.

Still buffeted by the winds, Daniel could only gape.  A beam caught him about the middle in the next instant, hitting like a truck.  He crashed backward, hitting the wall hard, and crumpled to the ground.

“I did wonder when you would show your face,” he heard Madis say.  The words had that odd, canned sound again.  Every breath hurt.  Moving hurt.  “Do not trouble yourself.  You will not be able to stop us, regardless.”

Daniel wheezed, clutching his ribs, and tried to stand.  His legs were like noodles beneath him, unwilling to listen.

Madis had already turned away when he looked up again, striding off down the hall