Chapter 9
Zosia
A nsel’s decision is firm despite my warnings, which means that the next step is determining parentage. While I might be better off staying ignorant, the unknowing will nag me forever.
A tiny piece of me longs for the boring life I had at the orphanage, but it’s only because I’m exhausted. I’d love to spend three days curled up in bed with a book, but non-stop action and problems have overwhelmed me since I arrived. I’ve dealt with them one at a time, hoping that each resolution will gradually simplify my day-to-day routine.
The gargoyles are fascinating. Whenever I borrow their sight to see the library’s exterior, it’s like looking through a telescope. They seem like tools, but they are capable of some independent thought. Similar to the goblins, they belong to the library and can’t survive beyond her boundaries. As the librarian, I’m now responsible for their well-being. Kodi is still angry on my behalf or wary of Ansel, but we need a new gargoyle to replace one that has requested retirement. The older shifter is the best candidate for many reasons.
Tremayne has proven incredibly helpful already, and we haven’t even addressed the reason he came. I turn my attention toward him after confirming Ansel’s decision. “You have the ability to determine paternity with magic? Although it’s not a necessity, knowing my biological father will be one less question in my mind.”
Tremayne nods, but I sense hesitancy. “I can do so, but ….” He sighs and strokes his beard again. “I feel a need to warn you. Jonathan Addington courted your mother with single-minded determination. She rejected him, but the alpha shifter isn’t known for his honorable behavior.” He glances to either side of me – to Addington’s biological sons.
My mind immediately denies the possibility, and I shake my head violently. My guardians react with simultaneous disgust and refusal. Kodi pretends to gag, but it’s obviously a dramatic representation. Garrett bolts to his feet so quickly that the library swiftly acts to catch the chair he flings away from him. It skids a foot away instead of flying into the air.
“Impossible,” the shifter states firmly. “If Zosia were my biological sister, my beast wouldn’t consider her his mate.” His words emerge as half-speech and half-growl.
The shifter’s fierce reaction startled me, causing me to lean into his brother. Belatedly, I realize he’s shaking. I look for blue sparks, afraid the atmospheric mage’s magic is in danger of exploding. When I hear his mostly silent chuckles, I realize he’s laughing.
“My farseeing ability might be unpredictable and occasionally wrong, but I don’t think it would leave out anything that important.”
I don’t find the possibility amusing, but Bren’s reactions aren’t always what I suspect. Avery’s emotions indicate dismissal, and I wonder which brother he agrees with. I decide to follow his example and refuse it until I know the truth.
“Forgive me. I didn’t realize that your beast marked Zosia as your fated mate. You are correct that he would have realized the familial connection.” Tremayne’s words are contrite after our dramatic reactions. He probably forgot that we’re still young and immature. The possibility of being attracted to one’s sibling – or half-sibling – is unacceptable.
The shifter doesn’t resume his seat, and his vibrating tension indicates that his human side needs confirmation.
“Let’s just do this,” I say quickly. “Actually, wait. Can you tell who it is if it’s not Ansel?”
Tremayne studies me, and I mentally applaud my ability to maintain my calm. This discovery will be a huge revelation, but I’m no longer a child; the knowledge won’t be life-changing. The library and my chosen guardians are my home and family now.
“Not exactly, but I can determine the supernatural type – be it shifter, mage, vampire, or Fae. For a name, I’d need to compare your energy to theirs. A fraction of each supernatural’s energy passes into their offspring, creating a unique signature. Like strands of DNA, each type of supernatural has certain characteristics.”
My boundless curiosity pushes aside my emotions to focus on the facts. “Earlier, you said that you can also measure a supernatural’s strength. Is this the same premise? It might be a rude question, but I want to understand.”
Tremayne’s grin is hidden under his beard, but the smile lines bracketing his eyes convey the emotion. “I am not offended. Shifters are touchier about this particular question because an answer classifies them as predator or prey. Your assumption is correct; an individual’s energy signature provides me with a rudimentary idea of a mage’s strength and affinity. I can evaluate and manipulate magical energy to some degree. It’s a rare aptitude and I’ve never met anyone who has the skill. The children I sired didn’t inherit it either. The ability has offered me a greater insight into magic, and I teach others what I can. I don’t think the skill should be hoarded.”
The old man’s gaze drifts to Kodi. “My affinity might be why I’m so interested in studying your spiritual energy. Your signature shares a foundation with the signatures I study, but there are very distinct differences. In all my years, I’ve never met or heard of a spirit that has managed to retain some semblance of life for so long after death. You are one of a kind, Kodi.”
While my best friend preens at the praise, an abstract idea occurs to me. What if my magic hasn’t been completely dormant these last seven years?
“He’s certainly one of a kind,” Garrett scoffs. The shifter hasn’t retaken his seat, and his gruff tone reminds Tremayne and me that we are getting sidetracked.
Tremayne clears his throat. “Of course. Are you ready, Librarian?”
The emphasis on my title reminds me that I’ve come a long way from the needy orphan I used to be. While this finding is important, it no longer alters the course of my life or defines my identity. I nod and place my trembling hands on my lap.
“Very well,” the mage says as he stands up. I’m going to ask everyone except for you and Ansel to step away from the table. Close proximity causes the energies to intertwine. I’ll also need to separate the bonds you share with your mates.” He squints toward me, but he appears to be looking at my aura. Does Avery see the same thing? I’ll have to ask him later.
“Mates? I’ve only bonded with Avery,” I clarify.
“Your bond with Avery is confirmed and complete,” Tremayne murmurs absently as he crosses his eyes to peer at me. “However, you’ve already begun bonding with the other three. Because you’ve known Kodi all of your life, you have a bond with him as well. This might have been impossible, even for me, if you’d already completed a mate bond with the other three men. Sphinxes are unique in this way.”
The mage’s attention is split between his words and unraveling the energy around me. I’m uncertain that he even realizes he’s speaking.
“Even fated mates don’t merge their magical signatures with the same intensity of a sphinx and her guardians. Your bond is strengthened by the library, and the force it manifests is profound and enduring. This is why the loss of one is so catastrophic.” His gaze intensifies briefly, meeting mine, and I’m reminded of my grandmother’s plight.
“Some researchers insist that the magical signature I speak of is actually the soul. When mates grow so close that their magical energies intertwine, they call it a soul-tie. I don’t use that term because it carries spiritual implications I don’t ascribe to. I admit, however, that the lore surrounding each is similar, regardless of its name.”
I automatically look at the four men I’ve gathered around me. They’ve all complied with Tremayne’s request and moved to hover restlessly near the circulation desk. The mage’s words lend new meaning to the definition of soulmate. Even in my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have imagined meeting these men. Sharing a life, or a soul tie, with them is even more unbelievable.
The distance between us also feels strangely uncomfortable. Stars above! My life has changed suddenly and dramatically.
The mage glances at the gathered men briefly. “I can say that Addington is not your father, Zosia. Garrett and Bren share a visible stamp that you do not.”
“I knew it,” Garrett huffs.
Kodi, always the clown, grins widely and gives me two thumbs up – as if I’d had a say in my parentage.
“I’ve separated everything,” Tremayne announces. “Now, I’ll compare your energy to Ansel's. Close your eyes and relax."
I comply without question, and this is a new experience as well. I wouldn’t have left myself vulnerable outside the library or before I met my guardians. I don’t have to worry about my safety when I’m here with them.
The second my eyelids drift shut, I struggle against a wave of exhaustion. Is Ansel fighting the same urge?
The mage begins to hum; the burring drone sounds simultaneously melodious and atonal. It reminds me of a Gregorian chant … or a tuning fork – especially when my body responds with a subtle vibration. Science insists that my atoms are always vibrating, but this is the first time I’ve encountered any evidence. The sound seems to shake the intended energy free of everything else my body and magic emit. My skin prickles, and the fine hairs all over my body rise in unison.
Just when I think the mage will run out of air, his hum concludes with a grunt of satisfaction. I open my eyes without permission, and his expression reassures me before he speaks.
“Zosia Aviram Abram, you are the daughter of Ansel Horus Briar and Karasi Imala Abram, granddaughter of Atanea Rae Abram, descended from Lama, the very first sphinx.” Tremayne’s booming voice lends importance to the proclamation.
My gaze moves from the mage to the man opposite me. I am more similar to my mother’s photo, which suggests that my sphinx heritage overrides other input.
Ansel studies me in return. Is he looking for a resemblance or seeing my mother? The recounting of his past had been saturated with the pain of lost love. Does he wonder why she left after they’d already conceived? If sphinxes can control their fertility, did she seek to carry on the lineage even though she felt no obligation to the library?
I’ll likely never know what my mother was thinking, and the unattainable knowledge is distressing. Death is so final and dramatically alters the search for answers. Sometimes, we’re only left with more questions. It’s nearly impossible for me to accept.
After several minutes of silence, the shifter sighs heavily. “I am truly sorry, Zosia. Karasi must have known I wasn’t strong enough to protect both of you.” The regret in his apology is apparent, but it doesn’t change anything.
“It is what it is.” My reply is followed by a wince as its callousness echoes in my ears. “What I mean to say is that we can’t change the past. Considering everything I’ve been told, you weren’t the only reason she fled. Her mother had just died, Addington was harassing her, and she feared becoming the librarian. My grandmother’s enemies lured her from safety by threatening her mate, and she must have known a child would create an exploitable weakness.”
I force another shrug. The blame doesn’t lie solely on his shoulders. I couldn’t hope to understand Karasi’s reasoning, but her decision protected me for a short time. I wasn’t captured until I was six or seven. I can’t remember those years, but they might have been the happiest of my life. I’d also shifted during that time because Kodi said I arrived as a sphinx. Wherever I was and whomever I was with doesn’t matter.
“I believe you did your best to protect me after you realized my identity. This is what matters most because it’s what brought me here. And now that we’ve determined the truth, you can become a gargoyle.” The moment feels anticlimactic, but I’m certain this is due to the dramatic movies I’ve watched. It’s my personal Darth Vader moment, but I’m not as whiny as Luke Skywalker was, and I don’t intend to call him Dad. He didn’t raise me; he didn’t even know I existed until I was twelve.
“The transformation will remove your physical pain and exhaustion.” The burden of his guilt will also be taken from him, but I keep this to myself. If I say anymore, I won’t be able to disguise my envy. Because I endure physical pain on a daily basis, I recognize it in others. Would I willingly become a stone statue if it relieved me of my physical pain and guilt? I wouldn’t, I decide quickly. I’d also lose the pleasure I experienced last night in Avery’s arms.
“I’m grateful to finally know the truth. After my transformation, I will relate all of my memories regarding your family. Tremayne will also be a valuable resource and ally. I encourage you to rely upon him.”
I offer the mage my sincere gratitude as I release the brakes on my chair and wheel myself from the table. I hope my voice conveys my appreciation for his assistance. The paternity test was incredibly helpful, but he also provided us with answers regarding the BSP and he originally called Ansel here to help my mother shift. In addition, his connection to my family is less emotional.
“Sage trusts you. She says you can return as often as you wish, and you have permission to explore the tenth floor. Finatan, the guardian goblin of the arcane level, is looking forward to making your acquaintance.” Although the library feeds me the words, I might be as surprised as Tremayne looks.
“Truly?”
The expression on the mage’s ancient face fills me with joy. He resembles a child whose wish has been granted. Very few people earn access to the top floor, but Tremayne deserves it several times over. I suspect Tremayne has done more than I know of, but that is between him and Sage.
I grin in response. “The library wants to share her secrets with you after your many years of loyalty.” I almost choke on my words when the length of that time span is revealed; it’s nearly three hundred years. Disbelief nearly makes my brain malfunction.
“Sage also suggests that you reconsider the position of academy dean after we’ve thoroughly cleansed the faculty and student body. Apocrypha should live up to its legacy instead of continuing to function as a daycare for the next generation of elites.” The words are my own, but the meaning is synonymous.
Tremayne chuckles. “When Addington’s and Walthers’ influence has been banished from Apocrypha, I shall gladly do as she suggests. I look forward to a partnership based on trust and mutual cooperation instead of threats and bribes.”
He refers to the university’s current mode of operations, and I nod with approval and agreement. Sage and he share a similar optimism that we will defeat our enemies. Once we form an honest alliance between the library and the campus, our relationship will provide an example to our region’s supernaturals.
The words ring in the air like a pact already forged, and the mage takes his leave soon after. He promises to return after a private farewell to Ansel that brings tears to the younger shifter’s eyes. The mage might be an honored guest, but Ansel’s transformation is the library’s private business.