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

Indira’s tug became more insistent still.  She nodded in Owl’s direction as she towed Olivia away.  “Thank you for your time and your understanding, Librarian.”

His mind still flooded with new possibilities and new offers, the notion of ‘words’ was too far away for him to find.  Owl bowed instead, which had the added benefit of not having to actually look at the pair.

He held the pose until the exit door creaked shut, until the brilliant light died away and left him in the dark again.  Then he rose, trudging back toward Alexandria’s entrance.

And he thought.

- Chapter Thirty -

“I can’t go,” the man whispered.  His eyes were narrowed, glowing like orbs of pure light against his translucent skin.  “It’s here somewhere.  I can’t- I won’t rest.  Not until-”

“We’ll find it,” Owl mumbled.  The words came out on automatic, more a force of habit than any intent by him to help.  He reached up for one book after another mechanically pulling them out and passing them in front of his dreamer companion.

Each time, though, the man kept shaking his head.  “No,” he whispered, his voice resonating through the Library.  “No, no, no.  It’s not-”

“Be patient,” Owl said, taking another book in hand.  “I’m here.  I’ll help you.”

They just want company, he heard someone say in his memories - a familiar voice, one that he’d known as well as his own.  They want someone by their side, that’s all.  A bit of comfort.  It’s within our power to provide.

Comfort, she’d told him.  He smiled wistfully behind his mask, handing the latest tome to their guest.  A bit of comfort would be nice, instead of more questions.  Instead of more worries.  Every time he thought he had a handle on things, it all kept crashing down around his-

“Ah,” the dreamer breathed, snatching a book from the end and staring down at the illustration on its cover.  Owl stopped.  The man was smiling by then, relief suffusing every line of his expression.  “Ah.  I remember, now.  How could I forget?”

For a moment, his white-on-white eyes flicked to meet Owl’s.  “Thank you,” he heard the man whisper.  “Thank you, stranger.”

Owl winced, stepping back and turning his face away.  The space between the shelves went white.  About time, his thoughts whispered.  That one was so stubborn.  Is Alexandria trying to drag her chores out?

Before his eyes, the dreamer’s glow settled, becoming more constant.  His work was done.  He exhaled slowly, inclining his head toward their unwitting guest.  “Safe reading,” he murmured.

And then he started to back away, creeping down the aisle until the moment broke.  With a swish of his coat, he set off back towards the Library’s heart.

His work might be done - and yet, his mind stayed every bit as jumbled as before.

Indira.  He frowned, hardly noticing the halls pass by on either side.  She’d come here.  She’d set her own assistant to enter the Library as a guest.  Here.  Olivia.  Right after Alan and Dylan had destroyed an entire section of Alexandria in their magical mishaps.

Was it a trap?  Was she trying to use Olivia to gather information for her?  Or was Indira being honest, and she really did value their partnership that much?  His jaw tightened.  Both choices had consequences, if he should choose poorly.  And he had no idea where to begin.

With every swing of his arms, the fabric and leather tugged at his skin.  The gloves.  His hands were sweating, making the material cling.  His brow furrowed.

Indira’s presence was just an afterthought, when it came down to it, right along with Olivia asking to come.  He’d known she wanted to be a visitor.  She’d been screaming that since the minute she arrived.  Of course Indira would see that as an easy way for her to save face.

It was the rest of what she’d said that caught in his mind, refusing to fade away no matter how he tried.  The things about Crow.  About...About Jean.

And the things about him.

His heart sank when the sitting room came into sight, with his door waiting right in its familiar place.  The Library was empty but for him.  His time was his own.  There was nothing standing in his way but himself.

His own nerves were bound and determined to prove themselves a formidable foe.

One step at a time.  One foot in front of the other.  Owl forced himself to keep moving, lifting each foot and placing it back down with deliberate intention.  He’d been putting things off for long enough.  He’d been putting himself at everyone else’s mercy with his own lack of knowledge.

It’d hurt less when he knew.

Surely.

His hand came to rest on the handle to his quarters, smooth and cold.  He let it linger there, squeezing his fingers more tightly against the metal.  Taking a deep breath, he lifted his head.

And pushed his way in.

His room was just as he’d left it, of course - warm wooden rafters overhead, spread with fairy lights.  A fire burned in the hearth, soft and low but still bright enough to provide a bit of light.  The atmosphere was...cozy.  Cozier than usual, even.  Owl smiled bitterly, swinging his hand back to flip the lock.  With a rattle, it closed.  It was done.  None could enter.

He moved through his routine, each motion slow and practiced.  His fingers slid under the edge of his hood, reaching inward until they met the buckles within.  They fell free with a touch, until the cowl tumbled down to his collar.

The mask came off next, leaving his skin bare to the fresh air.  He set it onto its nightstand rack, well within reach of him should the need arise overnight.

One button at a time, he undid the clasps on his coat, pushing the carved bone and brass through perfectly-shaped slits.  With each one, the pressure around his shoulders eased a little more.

Something very close to regret washed through him as he pulled the coat free, settling it onto its hook.  His time was