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

“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