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

He would.  Somehow.  Or maybe Alexandria would be nice and just give him a new damn room.  The way things were, the whole place would reek for months of smoke and...whatever it was Lenny had been mixing.

Lenny only grinned, though, his expression too sheepish for Owl to hold any sort of grudge against the man.  “Oops.”

“Oops indeed,” Owl echoed, then chuckled.  “It’ll be fine, Lenny.  Safe travels.”

The guests straightened, recognizing the cue.  Once more, they shared a look - then turned, slipping toward the door.

Owl’s skin prickled as the light rose, enveloping the lot of them.  His hands itched to raise, unbuckling the mask and pulling it free.  He’d be able to breathe again, his thoughts cried.  He’d be able to see everything, no longer limited by lenses and eye-holes.

Not this time.  Not yet.  Owl leaned back, sucking in a lungful of air and holding it.  Finally, when he seemed about to burst, he let it out long and slow.

Now the guests were gone.  Now, he was alone with Alexandria again.

Supposedly.  He’d always trusted that fact, relied on it more than any other.  And now, that fact had been called into question.

Until he knew the truth, there was no way for him to do something like ‘relax’, much less unmask himself.

He whirled around instead, stalking back toward the entryway to the Library.

Now the guests were gone.

And now, he’d get some answers.

- Chapter Fifteen -

Tapestries flitted through the edge of his vision, blowing gently at his passage.  Skylights overhead glimmered down in sheets of hazy golden light.

Owl stalked onward, hardly seeing any of the beauty being foisted upon him.  He padded from aisle to aisle, peering down side hallways and nooks.

“Come on,” he muttered, his frustration building as the minutes changed into hours.  “You’ve got to be somewhere around-”

A stack of scrolls tipped over in front of him, clattering to the tiled floor.  He shied back, narrowly avoiding trampling one.

For a long moment, the only sound in the Library was a steady rustling of paper on paper as they tumbled.

Finally, they came to a stop.  Owl lifted his eyes, glaring from behind his mask.  “Really?” he said.  “Do you have to do that?”

The building groaned in response, its massive, exposed rafters shifting gently.

Owl let out a hiss, nudging the piles of scrolls aside with his foot.  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbled, and eased past.

On and on he walked, picking his way through previously untrod hallways.  He ignored the thrill of fear in his gut, the ripple of unease as the rooms grew tighter, more narrow.  This was the Library, and he was the Librarian.  There was nothing to fear here - as he’d told group after group of visitors.

A chuckle ripped from his throat as he grabbed the next door handle, wrenching it open, and stepped through into a hall so narrowly bounded by bookshelves as to be claustrophobic.  The only things out here to find would be a dreamer - or Leon.  He’d see the dreamer before it saw him.  And if he ran into Leon, well-

The world went dark around him.

Owl froze, grabbing for the shelf alongside him for support.  His breath caught in his throat.  He blinked wildly, grabbing at his mask with his other hand.  Where?  What was it?  Why had he-

A smell wafted through the air, soft and sweet and pungent.  Candlesmoke.  Owl stopped, his fingers still pressed against the lenses of his mask.

“Are you serious?” he said - and snapped his fingers.  Light flared before him with painful brightness.  He winced, holding his hand away, and shaped the fire-orb in his palm to something more manageable.

Bookshelves stood around him, tight-packed and narrow.  He exhaled slowly, relieved.  He wasn’t blind, then.  This wasn’t an attack.

Owl wrinkled his nose, glancing up - and eyed the candles hanging from the rafters.  Smoke poured from their extinguished wicks.

“Are you going to explain why you’re doing this?” he said, spitting the words through clenched teeth as he returned to walking.  “It’s bad enough there’s trespassers here.  I don’t need you trying to get me killed along with the rest of it.  Jesus Christ.”

A window rattled in its frame, somewhere high overhead.  Owl scowled.  “Fine.  Whatever.  Don’t tell me.”

Deep down, he knew he was being absurd.  Alexandria was a building.  A smart building, yes, but one without a mouth.

Not for the first time, he wished there was some way for him to talk to her more directly.  He’d read stories like this before - space travelers on sentient ships, or supernatural beings that inhabited locations.  But in those series, they’d always been given an avatar, or at least an interface to talk through.

If only real life could be so convenient.  Owl sighed, stalking forward, and ground his teeth together.

“Anyone here?” he called, raising his voice.  “Just come on out.  I’m not angry.  Really.”  The words didn’t sound believable even to him.  “Look, we can talk.  Okay?”

The only response was a shrill whistling of wind through the Library’s cracks.  Owl frowned, shaking his head and hurrying toward the next door frame.  “Fine.  I swear to god, Alex, I’ll-”

The only thing waiting on the far side of the door was open air.  Owl’s arms pinwheeled desperately as he struggled, fighting to regain his balance.  It was too late.  Poised halfway over the gap, there was no time left to go back.

He yelped, feeling gravity take over - and tumbled from the ledge.

A terrifying half-second and a four foot fall later, Owl pushed himself to his knees.  Concrete lay cool and unforgiving under his fingers.  He breathed hard, staring down at it and trying to calm the thrumming of his heart.  His hands ached, with his shins not far behind.  If he hadn’t been dressed head to toe in leather, he’d probably have left bloody smears behind.

“This isn’t funny,” he spat, clenching his fists.  His fingertips scraped the concrete.  “If you...”  Thinking the better of it, he stopped, clamping down