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

front of him.  It was dangerous.  And if anyone else caught wind, anyone outside-

His limbs snapped back into motion.  Leon was just a forgotten afterthought, a shadowed figure right on the edge of his vision.  Owl dashed forward, gathering his steps.  He could jump the railing, be down in an instant, and-

And then what?

His common sense kicked in right before he could hurl himself from the ledge.  He skidded to a stop, slamming into the wooden railing.

Below, the water fell at last from Alan’s pale, shaking hands to stain the floor tiles.

Don’t panic, Owl whispered to himself.  Don’t freak out.  If you go leaping from the rafters, they’re going to know this is a big deal.  His gloved hands tightened against the wooden rail.

“Owl?” he heard Leon mutter, somewhere in the shelves behind him.  He gave a quick, tiny shake of his head, still staring down at Alan and Dylan.

Play it cool, Daniel.

He glanced back over his shoulder ever so slightly, locking eyes with Leon.  “Wait here,” he whispered.

His friend blinked - then nodded, sliding back into the shadows of the shelves.

Every fiber of his being screamed to hurry down, to race until he hovered right on the edge of falling.  But Owl forced himself to move slowly and deliberately, working his way one step at a time along the railing.

Onto the stairs.

And down onto the landing.  His hands quivered, vibrating with the pent-up energy simmering within him.  He turned, then, letting his palm slide along the bannister.

Alan and his colleague were still transfixed, staring at the shattered porcelain.  But as Owl started forward, he saw Dylan rise, his head swiveling back and forth between the spilled water and his friend.

“Did...Did you...” Dylan said.

“Did you see that?” Alan said, still holding his hand out.

“Jesus.  It’s like you just-”

“I don’t know how I-”

“Is everything all right?” Owl said, sliding his hands into his pockets.

The two turned toward him.  For once, Alan didn’t look so confident.  He licked his lips, still quivering gently.  “L-Librarian.  You’ll never believe what happened.  I-”

“Don’t worry about the plates,” Owl said, stooping low.  He reached out, snagging a still-whole plate from the table, and started picking up one piece of shattered porcelain at a time.  “Alexandria is less than real.  A great deal of what you see around you is simply in your head.”

“B-But, I...I reached out, and-”

“Nothing more,” Owl said, lifting his head and pinning Alan in place with a stare.  “And nothing less.”

Alan fell silent, then, his face ghostly white.  Owl returned to the ruined shards, picking up one after another and setting them onto the plate with a steady, repetitive tink.

It’d be faster if he could use magic.  If he could just wave his hand, and have the dishes reform before their very eyes.  It would take a job that promised to stretch over minutes, and condense it down to seconds.

But if he did that, then his guests would spot him, and their minds would go straight back to magic.  Right now, that was a conclusion he very, very much wanted to avoid.

“Are you two all right?” Owl said, more softly, and sat back on his heels.  The both of them looked ready to keel over.

Alan shook his head.  “I...Librarian, I swear, I held my hand out, and...for a moment, I was sure that-”

To Owl’s horror, the man stretched his hand out, hovering it over the heap of broken shards.  His fingers tensed, like they were gripping the empty air.

He’ll do it again.  The whispers grew louder in the back of his mind, more insistent.  He’s focused, and he’s determined, and he knows.  Don’t let him do it.

A bead of sweat rolled down the back of Owl’s neck, disappearing under the collar of his jacket.  His eyes stayed glued to the shards, holding the image there in his mind.

Alexandria’s magic was all about visualization.  Images. Belief.  If Alan wanted to toy with things inside of the Library, then he’d be doing so with his own mind and thoughts.

Which meant that all Owl had to do was be stronger.

Every angle of the shards stood out in his mind’s eye, cast into perfect relief across the distance.  He bit his lip, fixated.  Don’t move.  Don’t twitch.  How they are is how they stay.  Don’t-

Right on the edge of the pile, a fragment of porcelain fell free, tumbling to the tiles.  Owl twitched, redoubling his mental image.  His lungs burned, straining against the lungful of air he couldn’t bring himself to exhale.

But Alan shifted, the moment past.  He lifted his hand, staring down at his empty palm as though betrayed.  “I don’t...get it,” he said.

“Is something the matter?” Owl said, and even if his pulse still thundered in his ears, he couldn’t keep the satisfied tone from his voice.

“Ah...Librarian,” Alan said, and glanced over at him.  “I just...I could have sworn I-”

“It was insane,” Dylan said, wobbling closer.  “The- The plate fell, and-”

“I see that,” Owl said.

“And then, Alan stuck his hand out, and...”  Dylan shook his head.  “The glass fell, but all the water inside...it was like it all just...hovered.  Like he’d grabbed it in midair, right there in a little ball.”

“Oh, my,” Owl said mildly.

“What’s going on?” Alan said.  A note of suspicion had kindled in his voice, somewhere between his failed magical attempt and Dylan’s explanations.  “What was that?  I-”

“I couldn’t say,” Owl said.  He shrugged, slow and deliberate.  “Perhaps it was a trick of the light.  Or perhaps-”

“It wasn’t a trick,” Alan snapped.  “I know what I saw.  And-”

“Or perhaps,” Owl said, “It was Alexandria trying to aid you.”

The two scholars froze, glancing around furtively.  “Alexandria?” Dylan whispered.

“The Library can intervene, if it so chooses,” Owl said.  Damn it, he didn’t want to be telling them all of this - but Indira already knew that Alexandria had a mind of her own, and in terms of damage control, he’d rather convince the pair it was just the library around them than that they could cast magic with their bare hands.  “Perhaps she