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

approach.  The lights flickered on and off, until he carried a lantern everywhere he went.  The hallways stretched out longer and longer, refusing to return him to the Library’s heart.

Finally, he trudged out to the entryway, staring at the grand doors that would on any other visit be letting guests through.  He stood for a long while in that familiar room, swathed away behind his coat and mask.

Maybe he could get out, that way.  Maybe he’d leave like any other scholar, awakening next to...whoever it was.  Someone.  He could remember her smile, and the way she’d felt in his arms, but...the details fled before him.  Someone was waiting for him out there, he knew that much. Maybe he could leap across the Edge and wake up beside her again.

Slowly, with exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders, he let his breath slide out.  He’d be there soon enough.

But not like this.

Turning on his heel, he pushed back through the doors.

His eyes stayed fixed on the ground as he walked on, his hands rising.  The gloves came off with a quick tug, to be dropped in one of his massive pockets.  The buckles holding his mask on were more of a challenge, cold to the touch and bound tight.

He worked them loose, still floating along as though in a trance.  The feeling of the last strap working free sent a fresh shiver of relief through him.

Another door swung open before him, and he stepped through, pulling his mask off in the same motion.

Two chairs sat before the fireplace of the sitting room, right where they’d always been.  Daniel sighed at the sight, his shoulders drooping.  His mask fell to the table.

Daniel dropped into his customary seat, then, pulling the collar of his jacket open.  A frigid breeze blasted through the room, slipping right under the freshly-loosened leather and whipping the fire into a mess of sparks.

“Okay,” he said quietly, leaning forward and trying to ignore the pointed chill washing through the Library.  “Let’s...look.  Let’s just talk, okay?”

It was difficult to tell, but he thought the cold breeze faltered just a little.

Daniel chuckled sourly, lifting his chin and gazing straight into the flames.  “You’re mad at me,” he said.  “I just don’t understand why.”

The wind picked up again, blowing harder.  The chandelier overhead swayed, every scrap of glass in it rattling.

Daniel held a hand up.  The wind stopped.  “I’m not an idiot,” he mumbled.  “This all started...back with that outsider.  It’s about him, isn’t it?”

Somewhere, distantly, a wind chime started singing in the breeze.

Daniel snorted, hanging his head.  “This would be easier if you would just talk to me, you know.” He really needed to devise some sort of AI, craft a way for her to talk more directly.  When no message appeared, he groaned, tearing at his hair.  “Look.  I...All I can see is this.  You don’t like me looking for this Leon guy.  You don’t like me hunting for intruders.  But, they’re not supposed to be here, Alex.  It’s dangerous.  So why-”

A log inside the fire exploded angrily, popping with a burst of moisture.  Sparks cascaded from the fireplace to trail across the tile and carpet.

“Why would you do it?” Daniel said, unfazed.  “Because you did, didn’t you?  You let him in.  That’s why you’re so angry when I...”  He groaned, making a face.  “When I hunted after him.  I mean, yeah, I was a little aggressive, but that’s my job.  It’s why I’m here.”

The wind screamed through the sitting room, ice-cold and sharp enough to cut to the bone.  Daniel jumped, hunching his shoulders against the sudden chill.

A picture frame rattled from the wall alongside the mantle.  He lifted his eyes - and laughed.

The paper contained within the metal-and-glass home was ancient, penned in an elegant script by some long-forgotten Librarian.  The words within remained as stark and vibrant as ever, despite their age.

Allow none within these walls to be harmed.

“Yeah, I get it,” Daniel said, pressing a hand to his face.  “I wasn’t going to hurt Leon, you know.  That’s...that’s not the point.  He seems innocent - but, if he lets slip, if anyone else out there finds out, it could be awful.”  His lips pressed together tightly, his worries mounting.  “And if anyone else comes in, too...I didn’t want to hurt him.  Really.  I was just trying to handle this.”  A crooked grin tugged at his lips, transforming his expression.  “And it would just be the two of us here, you know.  So there’s no harm.”

Again, the mighty timbers of the Library groaned, as though the whole building was settling.  A sigh?  Was it frustrated?  Had he missed something?  The breeze warmed, though, losing the edge of its cold and caressing his face like a hand.  The cushioned chair wrapped around him, hugging him more tightly.

Daniel only shook his head, letting it droop forward.  “Look...I’m sorry, okay?” he whispered.  “I didn’t mean to take a rough hand with him.  I was just worried.  If you really want to let him in...I’ll talk to him, next time.  Really talk.  So...”

He clasped his hands in front of him, wrapped about each other so tightly his knuckles shone white.  “Please let me go,” he whispered.  “I’m tired of fighting.”

The soft scrape of porcelain against wood brought his thoughts screeching to a stop.  His head lifted - and turned.

A mug waited on the table beside him, steaming in the cold air.  With every breath he took, the breeze slowed, then stopped entirely, letting the warmth of the fire begin to suffuse the room again.

Daniel reached out, wrapping his hands about the mug and drawing it in closer.  The smell of hot chocolate filled his senses, filling his world like a liquid hug.  It was as good as the Library could manage for an apology, he knew.  Smiling, he lifted it to his lips.

The rich taste of it lingered on his tongue when he took the first sip, soaking through his mouth and warming him to his core.  But something in