The Library (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 1) by Casey White (ebook reader 8 inch .TXT) 📗

“Daniel’s fever just broke.”

- Chapter Ten -

“It’s okay, sweetie.”

A hand stroked his forehead, slow and soft and tender. The woman smiled down at him, tears gleaming in her butterscotch-brown eyes.

It wasn’t just her, though. Figures bustled this way and that, filling the edges of his vision with dizzying movement. Voices called to each other. Machines beeped. Phones rang.

Daniel sagged against the pillows, completely at a loss. Ice pumped through his veins. Questions swirled in his mind, but one rose to the forefront again and again. Where?

Where was he? Just a moment ago, he’d been in the quiet, and now...now everywhere he turned was chaos and noise, more than he’d heard in his whole life.

Where was the Library? Where had it gone? His eyes burned, his hands clenching around the blankets that wrapped him. It’d always been there, as alive as him or Jean or any of their guests. But now...it was like he’d been scooped away, torn free and set adrift in a strange world.

The hand stroking his forehead stopped, fingertips pressing gently into his skin. “No, no,” he heard the woman croon. “Everything’s fine now, Danny. I’m here. Just...sleep, okay?”

A figure bustled closer, clad in blue, and the woman withdrew - a step, no more. Her eyes stayed glued to him the entire time.

Why? Who was she, and why had she hung from him since the moment he woke up? Daniel stared back, his brow furrowed.

He...knew her. The thought rose in his mind unbidden, but he couldn’t push it away so easily. She knew him, and she was worried about him, and he didn’t know why but he knew her too. How? Who was she?

A man stepped up alongside the woman, his face familiar in the same infuriating way as hers. A smile broke across his face as he glanced to Daniel, filled with relief.

Nothing made sense anymore. Daniel closed his eyes, willing everything to...to stop, and give him a single moment’s rest. His head ached, like someone had hit him with a pole. His skin burned, prickling at the touch of the nurse.

His vision blurred. He tried to fight for a moment, twitching and squirming, but there was no winning.

With the oddly-familiar couple lingering in his sight, Daniel gave up, rolling away and praying things would be normal when he felt like himself again.

* * * * *

Time passed in a blur.

So many rooms, so many doctors. We don’t know what happened to your son, he heard them say. We’re so sorry. We’ll have to run more tests.

Each time, the couple nodded, squeezing Daniel’s hands more tightly.

Son. The word rang in his head, totally and completely wrong. If the doctors were calling him their son, then...then that’d make them his parents.

But that was impossible. He’d never seen them before.

It didn’t matter how hard his mind clawed at the details, trying to force the world to slow down. They slipped by, racing faster and faster as though spiting his efforts. His head cleared with every passing minute. The fog faded, leaving him feeling clearer than he’d ever been before.

There was a window in his room. The sky outside was blue - not a trace of grey fog to blur out the details. Looking out onto the world he’d arrived in, he watched birds flap and circle, entranced.

One floated on black wings, cawing angrily. His breath caught, his chest tightening.

But he couldn’t resist chancing another glance once the crow flapped away.

The first night, after the halls of the hospital went dark and he was finally left to his lonesome, Daniel closed his eyes.

He opened them to familiar rows of bookshelves, leather tomes stretching high to the rafters overhead. For a time, everything seemed normal. He wandered the halls, tending to the Library’s needs as was his duty. He guided Dreamers, his confidence restoring with every day that passed.

Alexandria hadn’t abandoned him. It was still here - he was still here, walking among the texts and wearing his leather overcoat. He hadn’t lost everything.

Each time he went into his quarters, though, a heavy, solid bookshelf standing by the door burned in his vision. He slowed each morning and each night, fresh pain kindling in his heart.

Journals, Jean had said. Relics from the previous Librarians. Including her, he had to assume.

It was too much. The hurt was too fresh. The journals stayed where they lay, untouched and slowly gathering dust.

The respite passed quickly, though. It felt like only a heartbeat had passed when he woke again on the far side.

More rooms. More doctor, but no answers to be had. His outside existence became a whirlwind pressing in around him, with the Library remaining his one, unknown escape.

The clock over the mantle spun. He watched it twirl one lonely evening, the sand pouring out faster than it ever had before. Why? Was it because...because he was alone? Because Jean wasn’t here, and they had no guests?

Alexandria is alive, in her own way. Jean’s voice whispered in his ear. He whipped around, gasping for air.

The sitting room was empty.

She’ll look after you. Her voice continued, unruffled. He could see her smile, see the twinkle in her green eyes. She’s yours, and you’re hers. She’ll always protect you, Daniel.

He stared at the two armchairs, his pulse racing, but no other words came.

Right. He was alone.

It’s just your imagination, he whispered silently to himself. Just a mirage.

But the clock spun, and the days whipped past, and he found himself waking again and again on the other side. The hospital passed in a blur, melding together until finally he found himself wheeled out the front door to where a beat-up sedan waited. As he stood, stumbling away from the wheelchair, he knew it.

For the first time, he was free. The whole world lay open before him. The real world.

All he had to do was take it.

His trips into the Library took on new purpose, a new drive. Out there, he was still...a child, he supposed. Small. Within Alexandria’s