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

running out.  No matter how he procrastinated, his mission wouldn’t change.  With a muted groan, he stripped, grabbing for the tried-and-true standbys Alexandria kept waiting in his wardrobe.  “No sense being uncomfortable,” he muttered.

No more wasting time.  No more running.  Daniel stood straight, then, his tee and sweats oddly out of place amidst the fantastical decor.

The shelf waited right where it always had.  Book after book sat coated in dust, evidence of his years of neglect.

“Fine,” he muttered.  “Fine.  So be it.”

Steeling himself, he strode forward - and stopped, one hand outstretched.

Jean’s books sat there on the rack.  But...there were so many of them.  His eyes darted here and there, suddenly realizing he had a bigger issue.  “Where am I supposed to start?” he mumbled, letting his fingertips drag across the bindings.  “Uh...Alex?”

When Alexandria didn’t point out the correct text with a notable sigh, Daniel gritted his teeth.  “Fine,” he muttered.  “This all started with her needing a replacement right?  She needed me?”  His hand snapped to the last book on the rack, all the way at the end.  “This one, then.”

A bead of sweat rolled down his back.  The damn thing was still as wide as a dictionary, with wafer-thin pages.  How she’d managed to write on them, he’d never know.

Maybe she didn’t, his thoughts whispered.  You’re barely keeping a journal yourself.  Maybe the Library is documenting the rest of your life, just like it documented hers.  Maybe all your innermost thoughts are getting scrawled across pages in some book, ready and waiting to be spewed out to whoever comes next.  Maybe-

He made a low, irritated noise, yanking the book free and stalking back toward his bed.  He’d figure it out.  Whatever it was, whatever he needed to do.

The mattress creaked underneath him, giving way far enough to meld him into the warm, blanket-lined depths.  A bit of the anxiety drifted away.  He’d just...he’d read.  That was all.

His pulse hammering in his ears, he pushed himself back against the headboard.  He flipped the cover open, trying to ignore the crow sigils lacing the corner of every page, and...

Stopped.

“That’s...still a lot, isn’t it?” he whispered, starting to flip through the pages.  “This is still going to take me hours.  Days.  Alex, I could be working my way through the full set for weeks.”  He didn’t want her life’s history, he just- he just wanted to know.  He wanted to figure out what the hell was going on. What had happened back then.

Faster and faster he flipped through, finding only delicate, narrow lettering staring back at him.  “You’ve got to give me somewhere to start,” he said.  “A- A chapter heading, or something.  A nice label saying ‘I needed to acquire a kid today’.  Come on, Alex.  Give me something to-”

A page slipped from between his fingers, falling to the back cover.  A ribbon flopped out with it.  Daniel froze.

A black ribbon - narrow, and leading back to the spine.  A bookmark, then.  A placeholder.  And if there was a bookmark, it had to be marking something.

His fingers trembled.  He slipped them between the pages, tugging gently on the smooth silk.  The book bent with it.  The spine cracked with age, popping as tired glue was coaxed into flexing again.

With a final pop, the pages flopped to one side.

Daniel stared down at the journal, tight-lipped.  The rest of the book looked manufactured enough, or at least more...thought out.  He could almost see her sitting over the desk into the dark hours of the night, carefully penning out line after line.

There was no doubt in his mind that the page that lay before him was handwritten.  Or that his predecessor had been...upset.  Words covered the paper, each as looping and elegant as the rest.  And yet...there was a wobble to each flourish, an occasional line that stood out sharp and dark.  The rest was perfect - but this was human.

His heart in his throat, he pushed himself against the headboard, tugging the pages closer.  Biting his lip, he let his eyes drop to the first line.

Daniel

A shiver rolled down his spine.  Daniel.  He...remembered being called that.  It’d been years, but...he could still remember the way that name sounded.  He’d been anything but Daniel since then.  Dan.  Danny.  Owl.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed Daniel.

Daniel,

It’s done, then.  It’s not like I have a lot of time left, not after Adrian came and pulled his nonsense stunt.  The bastard used up most of the magic I had left away.  I knew it immediately.  At least I don’t have to wonder when the end is coming. It cut a few years of wondering down to this.  Silver linings.

Daniel smiled faintly.  Her voice echoed in the back of his head, until he could almost hear her saying the words on the page.  If he closed his eyes, he could still hear the sarcasm dripping from her every word.  He clutched the book, swallowing hard.

There’s a lot more I wanted to teach you.  So much more.  I’m sorry that I won’t get the time.  I hoped to give you as much of my wisdom as I could, before the clock ran out.  But we’re not going to get that time, so I suppose I shouldn’t prattle on about it.

I’m sorry.

Daniel paused a moment, his eyes lingering on those two little words.  He knew what’d happened - but there was a difference between knowing it himself, or being told it by Indira, and hearing it from Crow’s own lips.  Well.  Hands.

I should have acted earlier.  A decade earlier, if we’re being honest.  I was a fool, and I didn’t, and now you’re paying the price for my foolishness.  The letters here plunged in deeper than the rest, until Daniel wondered how she’d managed to keep from tearing through the page.  I told myself I was still young.  There was no need to find an apprentice.  I told myself they were only a risk. A vulnerability.  And so when the time came, I was unprepared.

It