Chapter 10
Zosia
A fter the doors latch behind Tremayne, Duggar appears. I’ve barely seen him in the last few days because he’s been preoccupied with teaching my guardians their duties. Tiny clues offer insight into his frazzled nature. His wings flutter more erratically and twitch even when they’re not in use. His face also appears more drawn, but this observation might be a trick of the fading light.
After several years of closure to the public, today heralded a return to business for the goblins. Their main task is to fetch books that students can’t access and deliver them to the book drop behind the circulation desk. All the while, they remain out of sight. No one but the library’s trusted employees – and now Tremayne – are aware of their existence.
“How are you and the others faring after our grand opening?” I ask the stout goblin.
“We are faring as well as can be expected, young sphinx. The morning’s events are worrisome, but the recommended plan meets our approval. We updated the wards and protection measures while you were talking. Unfortunately, extended closures always place us at a disadvantage. Magic and technology advance while our doors are barred.”
The goblin sits on the edge of an empty table, placing his perspective between the level of mine and the men’s gazes. I appreciate his consideration. It’s tiresome to look upward continuously.
“Our first priority was to increase our security against the personal communication devices that every blasted patron carries. One of the telecommunications companies is owned by supernaturals, and they’ve refined their abilities to bypass our rules. Garrett’s device provided us with a head start, but it still required time and effort. Prioritizing these devices over other spells is the reason why today proved difficult. We were overly concerned with our patrons recording or sharing images of the library and her materials.”
“You hacked my phone?” Garrett’s tone is more surprised than angry. His tension disappeared entirely when Tremayne confirmed my parentage. Although I don’t watch him all of the time, he doesn’t spend much time on his phone. The primary use is streaming music for his workouts.
I honestly don’t understand the overwhelming importance of maintaining the library’s secrecy. Most books can be removed from the library, and the most dangerous texts and relics are inaccessible and hidden. Photos of the floors themselves offer little.
I conclude that the primary security threat might be exposing the employees’ weaknesses, including mine. After being dismissed and ignored for so long, I struggle with my newfound importance. Attacking me is an attack on the library, though. My grandmother’s story makes this abundantly clear.
“Master Ansel.” Duggar bows toward the shifter while I try to ignore the hated word. I’d tried to discourage its use, but old habits are difficult to break. “As the interim protector, you have proven your worth to the library, and she’s honored that you’ve accepted the position as sentinel. Your predecessor is weary and anticipating eternal rest.” The formal words make Ansel’s chest puff with pride despite his exhaustion.
I can’t help but imagine a different past and present. What if Karasi had accepted her position as librarian? What if Agustin didn’t abandon my grandmother? Would Ansel have become one of my mother’s guardians? Could I have played hide and seek among the stacks, surrounded by books?
It’s a fantasy. If my grandmother and mother hadn’t encountered the difficulties they had, Ansel might not have returned to Apocrypha. I wouldn’t exist, or I wouldn’t be the same. My childhood made me into who I am today.
Avery senses my swirling emotions and returns to rest a gentle hand on my shoulder. His touch reminds me that an easier life might not have led me to my guardians. The pain and horror I’ve experienced contrast greatly with the promise of a life with these four men. If I’d grown up sheltered and surrounded by magic, I might not see them as the gift they are. I reach up to clasp my bonded mate’s hand before returning my attention to the present moment.
“I’m ready.” Ansel’s voice rings with finality and determination.
I blink with surprise. It’s not a typical death because he’ll retain a semi-conscious state and his memories for a time. Still, all sensation, desire, and emotional attachment will fade. I find the prospect almost crueler than the eternal rest awaiting the retiring gargoyle. My ideology leads me to believe a void of nothingness will greet me when I die. I’ll welcome it if I have a long life, but neither is certain.
“What’s next?” I ask.
“It’s a simple process.” The library goblin’s tone is more casual than before, and I wonder how many times he’s welcomed a sentinel.
A book appears, ending my meandering thoughts. It’s familiar and nearly as large as the goblin that sits next to it. I assume that the contract book holds every agreement the library has ever entered, but it isn’t designed for inquiries. It only opens to the required page when summoned and disappears when not in use.
“The first step is always the contract,” Duggar replies. “After Ansel signs, we’ll head to the roof. We need to meet with the gargoyle captain and George – the sentinel seeking retirement.”
My lips twist with unexpected amusement. George the Gargoyle; the name is ridiculous, but he was a man before becoming a gargoyle. As for the captain, I believe I’ve looked through his eyes more than once. It will be nice to meet him officially.
“Is it painful?” My mind provides a gruesome image of being suffocated in stone, although it’s probably less cartoonish and more magical.
Duggar seems unwilling to answer at first. “If the transformation isn’t designated as a punishment, Captain Etienne will remove the human’s capacity for physical sensation before the process begins.”
I wince. My feline curiosity earns me answers I’m not sure I want.
“Is this one a punishment?” Kodi asks. His tone and Ansel’s face are both unreadable. My best friend might blame Ansel for abandoning me, but the shifter doesn’t deserve torture. If Duggar says yes, I doubt I’ll be able to watch.
“Ansel Briar’s transformation is not a punishment,” the goblin states in a clear voice. My shoulders sag with relief.
“Are these punishments frequent?” Garrett asks. It’s impossible to forget my guardians’ presence, but they’ve been mostly silent since Tremayne announced my parentage.
Kodi bounces around now that we’ve moved away from our discussion at the table, his body fading in and out of my vision. Avery lingers behind me like an ever-present shadow while Garrett leans against the circulation desk.
Bren appears preoccupied, but I know he’s half-listening while he flips through a book left behind by a student. When he turns the page, I see the title – Sacred Geometry . While it’s not a book I’d willingly select, I know its exact location in our vast collection. Being a magical librarian offers strange benefits.
Duggar frowns. Since he has no eyebrows and his facial features are crude, the expression is solely communicated by his lips. “Rarely. Even after turning, a human retains an echo of their past self. We only accept trustworthy candidates.”
“In other words,” Garrett drawls, “punishment is just a threat.”
Duggar’s lack of an answer confirms the shifter’s observation. It’s a good threat, I concede, but I’m secretly glad it doesn’t happen.
Ansel’s chair creaks as he leans forward to read the contract. His eyes barely skim the text before he retrieves the special pen. The block of text is compact and similar to all other contracts – unintelligible to everyone but the signee. The shifter signs his name with a flourish, and the blood he uses is dark and glistening. Except for Kodi, my guardians and I had signed in a similar fashion. The ghost’s name had been recorded in the gray shades of his incorporeal form.
The second after Ansel dots the i in his last name, my skin prickles with awareness. The sensation might belong more to the library than me, but the distinction lessens every day. Another soul joins our retinue.
Duggar closes the book, and it disappears. Fin, the goblin in charge of the arcane level, told us that powerful relics are split. Half presides here while the other half disappears somewhere else. Is the contract book one of these? It’s a vital library tool, and the promises written within carry immeasurable power.
Kodi streaks past me with a taunt. “Last one up is a rotten egg!”
I glare at the nine flights of stairs and contemplate shifting. Before I can decide, Garrett appears and effortlessly drags me into his arms. I clutch his thick arms and squeal in alarm.
“You can ask for permission before you start hauling me around like a sack of potatoes.” My grumble of protest lacks any heat. The shock of his surprise ambush bothers me, but I don’t mind being in his warm, solid arms. His absurd size and strength make me feel small instead of heavy or cumbersome.
“Would you have asked me?” the shifter asks in a quiet voice intended for the two of us. Even though we’re surrounded by supernaturals, though, only one reacts. Avery’s lips twitch with amusement, but he doesn’t say anything as he offers Ansel a ride in the rarely used elevator. The shifter refuses. I imagine he’s savoring his last moments as a human – even if they are shadowed with pain.
Bren appears lost in thought as he skips up the stairs two at a time. He also has a contract to sign after we’ve completed Ansel’s transformation. Is he regretting our planned course of action? Mentally, I argue with myself about discussing him behind his back – quite literally. I don’t realize I’m gnawing on my bottom lip until a glance at Garrett reveals him transfixed by my mouth. The heated interest in his regard summons an answering flood of desire, but I resolutely push it away. The timing is all wrong.
“Do you think Bren is okay with our idea?” I whisper to my handsome human chariot.
Garrett reluctantly removes his gaze from my lips and exhales loudly. The scent of fresh blueberries remains on his breath. “Bren won’t lie to make others feel better. He’s brutally honest. It’s caused issues in the past, of course, but it reassures me that he’s telling the truth.” The shifter’s chest vibrates against my side as he speaks. It’s a relaxing sensation, especially in my weariness.
“He might have reservations or worries,” Garrett continues, “but he’s probably weighed the pros and cons of every scenario already. I know this is difficult to believe, but Bren has planned his life around the library since his first vision. He’s over twenty now, so that’s nearly his entire life. If the wild magic threatens his position here, he’ll do what it takes to correct it. He also wasn’t lying about the atmospheric magic being a nuisance. It’s always caused him more trouble than good.”
Garrett’s dark gaze meets mine again. “I’ll talk to him privately, though, and I’ll tell you if he has reservations.”
It might be the most I’ve ever heard the shifter speak. If I want our partnership to work, I need to stop second-guessing my guardians’ motives and decisions. Additionally, the library didn’t flag either brother’s words as dishonest.
I admit that I’m also scared the idea won’t work. What if something goes wrong and someone gets hurt? Addington attempted something similar, which makes me uneasy, and we don’t possess step-by-step instructions.
I force myself to take a deep breath. Having faith might be the hardest lesson to learn in this new life.