Chapter Twenty-Two
The trees stopped in a perfect straight line. Even the roots froze in place, unable to squirm past the invisible barrier. The line stretched a hundred feet both ways before making a sharp left on one side, and a sharp right on the other, forming one half of a square clearing.
In the center of the clearing stood a white building, untouched by the forest, barely touched by time. The windows were foggy, the cobblestone path was a little overgrown, all things normal for a slightly neglected public facility.
The building’s name was carved into the stone in big, welcoming letters: Eramthgin Library. The clean, warm atmosphere invited weary travelers to come inside, find a book, and stay a while. Or stay forever.
It was obviously a trap.
“Great idea, Fitz,” I muttered as I paced the boundary.
For once, the trees seemed like the safer option.
To ward off the curse, the library’s defenses would need to be long-lasting and powerful.
They didn’t need to be smart. Could they tell the difference between an intruder and someone seeking shelter?
The changed name also concerned me. Names held meaning, especially when it came to magic. It could be part of the protection spell, a way to hide itself from the curse. Or it could be a side-effect—if the library changed after the curse, the name could have changed with it.
A branch rustled overhead. I jerked my head up, seeking the threat in the canopy, and found a small figure crouched on one of the limbs. “Delilah?”
She craned her neck to peer down at me. “Trey!” Her muscles flexed, preparing to jump.
My eyes widened and I held up my hands to ward her off. “No, don’t—”
She sprang off the branch and landed in my outstretched arms. The sudden weight sent us both crashing to the ground in a pile of awkward limbs. “Next time—” she blew fluffy hair out of her face “—either catch me or get out of my way so I can catch myself.”
I groaned and shoved her off. “I am not carrying you through the woods because you broke your ankle doing something stupid.”
“I’m a cat, I would land on my feet.”
I glared at her.
“Probably.”
A strong hand grabbed my arm, and I looked up at Maximus. “Thanks,” I muttered as he helped me to my feet.
He nodded silently, his eyes scanning me for injuries, then moving on to Delilah. Once he confirmed we’d only sustained a few bruises, he asked, “Has anyone seen Fitz?”
We looked around the trees, waiting for him to pop out and declare himself.
When he didn’t, our gazes slowly turned to the library.
From the beginning, he’d been excited about the Traumstead Library’s collection and history.
What were the chances that, seeing it intact, he hadn’t forged ahead without thought to his own safety?
“Shit. We’re going to have to go in after him, aren’t we?” I muttered.
The silence stretched on for a long time.
Delilah dropped to all fours, below the windows’ line of sight, and scampered forward.
When she reached the doors, she pressed both hands against them and pushed as hard as she could.
Nothing. They didn’t even budge. She switched her grip to the handle and yanked backwards, putting her full weight into it, until she was almost sitting on the ground.
Still hanging onto the handle, she looked over her shoulder at us. “It’s locked.”
Maximus pulled a set of lockpicks from his bag and took Delilah’s place at the door. I hung back a few steps, keeping one eye on the dark forest, the other on the library windows. If anyone moved in either place, we’d need to run.
“I don’t like this,” Delilah muttered, her ears pressing against her head. “How did Fitz get in if the door is locked?”
“Maybe he found a side door.” We exchanged a look, silently agreeing that wasn’t likely.
Maximus made quick work of the locks and pushed both double doors open. He glanced over his shoulder and gestured for us to follow.
I drew one of my swords and held it at my side as I walked forward. Head cocked, I listened for any alarms or screams. All I heard was the wind through the trees and Delilah’s soft steps beside me.
Maximus pried a loose stone from the walkway and used it to prop the door open, then followed us inside.
“Excuse me.” The sweet, patient voice drew everyone’s attention to the long desk on the right side of the lobby. A young woman stood behind it, giving us a close-lipped smile. “I’m afraid the library is closed. You’ll have to return during operating hours.”
“We’re looking for our friend,” I explained, stepping forward to put some distance between myself and the others.
Her smile widened as if the power of her politeness alone would convince us to leave. “As I said, the library is closed. The only ones here are me and the books.”
Since no one should have been hanging around a library in a cursed forest, her assurances fell flat. With a tight smile, I insisted, “We’d appreciate the chance to look around and confirm for ourselves.”
The strain on her patience finally split her lips, exposing a hint of sharp teeth, before she recovered herself and continued speaking in a proper customer service voice. “I can’t allow patrons to wander the library after hours. You’ll simply have to return when the library opens.”
“When does it open?” Maximus asked.
“We’re open from sun-up to sun-down every day.”
The sun didn’t rise or set in Grimnight. Either the library continued to operate on its old schedule, regardless of whether we could see the sun, or it was always closed.
Trying to reason with her wouldn’t save Fitz.
A black bead of sweat dripped down the librarian’s brow and she swiftly wiped it away. “You need to leave.”
“Fine,” I said, sheathing my sword. “We’ll leave.”
Delilah opened her mouth to argue, but I looped my arm through hers and dragged her out the door. After a few steps, she fixed her gait to match mine and we walked out together, Maximus close on our heels.
The door closed gently behind us. The stone Maximus had used as a doorstop lazily rolled a few inches away before stopping near our feet.
“Why’d we leave?” Delilah demanded. “We never found Fitz!”
“Did you really want to fight a ghost librarian?” I asked. “We’ll find another way in.”
When we walked around the right side of the building, we found a door marked “Staff Only.” In place of a handle, there was an intricate sigil, a magical ward to keep out trespassers.
Maximus traced the looping lines of the sigil with a fingertip. At his touch, they shimmered faintly before fading into the wood.
“It’ll take hours to guess the correct pattern,” I said.
Maximus sighed and flattened his hand over the ward. “Next time.” Then he stepped back, allowing me to take his place.
I thrust my iron sword into the wood, disrupting the magic and the delicate craftsmanship.
The sigil sparked and trembled, protesting the sudden invasion.
The blade vibrated with enough energy to numb my arm.
I gritted my teeth and grabbed the hilt with my other hand, slowly twisting the sword like a key in a lock.
The magic snapped as the ward disappeared, and the door reluctantly creaked open.
It stopped a few inches in as it caught on something. Maximus and I pushed together to shove it open past the blockage. It scraped against the floor until the pressure suddenly released, and we tumbled into the room. An overturned box lay in our path, files spilling onto the floor.
I bent down and gathered them into a pile, scanning each one to figure out the best organization system.
Maximus silently held out his hand and I passed my pile to him while I gathered up another stack. He righted the box and sorted through the remaining contents, ensuring each file went back in its proper place.
“What are you doing?” Delilah’s whispered hiss snapped me out of my task-driven daze.
I dropped the papers, allowing them to scatter in every direction. Maximus exclaimed in distress and tried to fix the mess, but I kicked the box out of his reach.
He blinked and shook his head, pressing one hand to his forehead.
“A spell,” I explained. “It probably triggered because we broke in rather than deactivating the ward. Anyone caught in the spell would be occupied filing until someone could investigate the break-in.”
The office didn’t look enchanted or haunted.
One side of the wall was lined with filing cabinets, the other lined with shelves.
Tiny labels marked each section in neat, precise handwriting.
Other boxes littered the floor, like someone had abandoned a reorganization project halfway through.
I pushed them out of my way with my foot, carving a path toward the door on the far end of the room.
Beyond the field of paper were several desks separated by short walls. Each desk was scattered with half-finished projects and piles of books. Like the employees would return any minute from a break or a staff meeting. Had others stayed behind to guard the library?
We instinctively softened our steps as we walked past the desks, afraid of summoning their ghostly occupants.
The door on the end was closed but not locked. I turned the handle and opened it an inch, peeking into the library. From here, I could see the other side of the information desk, a ledger of some sort, and a cart of books.
But no librarian.
Something tickled the back of my neck, and I brushed it off.
A sharp sting spread through my fingertips, and I hissed in a breath as I looked down at my hand.
A thin line of blood slowly welled to the surface on the pads of my middle and ring finger.
Bleeding around magic was never smart—you had no idea what it might feed.
I stuck both fingers in my mouth and swiftly cleaned the blood with my tongue as I searched the floor for what had injured me.
A small card lay faceup near my foot. The same neat handwriting that had labeled the files covered the card.
133.43 SCAn1
Magic – Curses
An Analysis of Generational Curses and Their Effects on Inheritance / Mikel Schulz. 2nd. Ed. Spellwork Press
324p. : 22cm
1. Magic – Curses
2. Government – Inheritance
I gestured for Delilah and Maximus to look at the card, then pointed toward the shelves.
Between us and the shelves was the large, open area of the library’s lobby. For a few minutes, we could hunch down behind the information desk, hiding from the librarian’s line of sight. After that, we’d be exposed, so we’d have to work quickly.
I went first, keeping an eye out for signs of Fitz.
Halfway across the room, the weight of a watchful gaze settled on me. I froze, only moving my head to search the room. No one in front of me. No one to the right or left. Only Delilah and Maximus behind me.
Slowly, I tilted my head back to gaze up at the mural on the ceiling.
A painted woman stared back at me. Most of the lines and colors were faded with age, making the few that weren’t stand out in stark contrast. Lips as red as blood tightened in a suppressed smile.
Eyes the color of midnight creased at the corners.
She barely held back her laughter, like our sneaking around amused her.
Better amusement than anger. We won’t hurt the library, I silently promised. We’re just looking for our friend.
She didn’t respond. Her expression remained the same.
I stared up at her until Delilah nudged my shoulder, gesturing for me to continue.
We arrived at the bookshelves without the librarian catching us.
On the end of each shelf was a set of numbers. I remembered the numbers at the top of the dropped card and scanned the signs of the right self. The aisle itself was empty, but even from a distance, I could see the gaps of missing books.
Fitz had come and gone, probably taking a whole stack of books with him. But where was he now? Had the librarian let him leave after assisting him?
If so, I would feel like a jackass, sneaking around and messing up her files.
The light scrape of something sliding against wood drew my attention to another shelf. I looked over my shoulder to find Maximus with a stack of books in his arms. He’s choosing now of all stupid times to research our problem?
As I watched, he took a book from his stack, searched the shelves, and placed it between two others.
Rolling my eyes, I gestured for Delilah to go knock him out of the spell again.
She crept up behind him, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and yanked him down to her level. The books fell from his arms, scattering everywhere with thumps and ruffled pages.
Before the last page settled, the librarian appeared in front of Delilah. Her strained smile had finally snapped and broken into a feral snarl. “The library is closed.”
Since we’d already been caught, I abandoned any attempts at stealth and broke into a run. The librarian shouted behind me, but I ignored her, head swiveling as I searched every aisle. Eventually, the bookshelves fell away, replaced by long tables.
And sitting at the first one, hunched over, surrounded by dozens of books, was Fitz.