Chapter 5 #2
With this breakdown, Magdalene should be able to infer that The Gilded Chronicles was to be stored in Division III, Aisle VII, Section II, two shelves from the floor, and sixteen places to the right.
The reason the book number didn’t end with two or sixteen instead was because more complicated systems were harder to crack, and there were too many books for such small values.
Magdalene had already moved her chair closer, slipped her reading glasses on, and leaned in close. “So what do you do with all of this?”
“The numbers and their corresponding titles must be learned. It will take time—I had two years to memorize them completely. For now, I’ll write each one out, but I need you to retrieve the books as I list them. We’ll keep them in order back here, so it’s easier when we reorganize the shelves.”
“Reorganize?”
Winter sighed. “That’s how this is going to work. We’re hiding the books in plain sight. The way they’re placed now leaves them vulnerable.”
“And you want me to retrieve them?”
“Yes.” Winter began writing out a few titles and gave Magdalene a list of ten to start with. “Here, take this.”
She scoffed. “The books are organized by genre and author, not title. This will take me forever.”
Winter shooed her away. “You’ll be fine. I have lists to write.” She cracked her knuckles and continued to jot down all the books that belonged in Division I, Aisle I, Section I.
Magdalene wiped her sweating brow. “That’s all the books for Section I,” she panted.
Winter slid the first page of what was already a thirty-three-page document around. “Please order them by this column,” she said, pointing to the numbers. “That’s how they’ll be placed back on the shelves.”
Magdalene let out a low sigh. “I’m not getting paid extra for this. You do realize that, right?”
“I’m not even getting paid at all—I don’t think. Who’s in charge around here?”
“Caldwell, of course.”
“He’s alive?”
“No, his daughter. Sir Caldwell died many years ago.”
“I see.” Winter nodded in feigned understanding, she knew nothing about the owner or his daughter. “She works here?”
“No, there’s just me. Five days a week. We’re closed on Mondays and Fridays, but I’ve been letting the wolves in and out for overnights.”
Just her?
This place was 300,000 square feet. “Can we contact Caldwell’s daughter? Maybe she can help us reorganize.”
Magdalene barked a laugh.
“What?”
“She lives in the other realm, of course.”
Winter glanced up to the skylight, wondering if it would come crashing down. “Then why are the books in this realm?”
“Oh Winter, I don’t mean this to be rude, but do you know anything about these archives?”
Winter gripped her seat, eyeing Magdalene.
“I know these books require protection. I know I’m supposed to help with that.
I know it takes magical beings to defend this place properly.
I know that as it stands right now, the archives are in grave danger.
So tell me, what else is there to possibly know? ”
Magdalene sat down and grabbed a quill. She found an unused piece of parchment, drew two circles, and connected them by a single line.
“This library exists in two places at once. The queen might be looking for a book to help her get back to the Immortal Realm, but what she doesn’t seem to know is that this library is already there.
” She pointed back and forth between both circles. “Well, it’s here and there.”
Magdalene was starting to sound like Kaden.
The numbers and book titles on the parchment in front of Winter began to blur.
Did an orb just rattle on the far shelf?
Was that a faint glow inside it? No. No.
Winter wasn’t thinking or hearing properly.
Two weeks of crying in a luxury steam shower was not enough time to prepare herself for whatever she’d just heard.
Magdalene went on without being asked. “When the Immortal Realm was forged, most of the mage artifacts, including tomes and everything you see here, went along with it.” She pointed to the maps and orbs. “I was born in the other realm—it’s where I got this job twenty-something years ago.”
Winter’s eyebrows were about to hit the glass ceiling. “How old are you?”
“Forty-two.”
“And you’ve worked here for how long?”
“Since I was eighteen. I was in a work-and-board program at the time. Eventually, I was placed in the town library. That’s when I met a very grumpy librarian named Sir Caldwell. But he wasn’t so bad, at least, once you got to know him. When I earned his trust, he took me underground—well, here.”
Winter looked up again, craning her neck to see the unseen. “How …”
“Caldwell was a master mage,” she added, drawing an arrow to the line that connected the two circles.
“He created a magical bridge between realms to share the information. He used his own power to forge it, ultimately depleting himself. It was a sacrifice for the sake of knowledge, his daughter says. To outsiders, he was an angry old man, but he dedicated his life to preserving magic in all forms. And that’s why I’ve never left and never plan to. ”
Winter’s jaw was sitting on the floor. She wasn’t sure why she was being told all of this. There had to be a secrecy oath set in place? Would Magdalene self-destruct? Winter leaned away, waiting with bated breath.
There was no explosion.
Magdalene went on. “And now that he’s gone, his daughter oversees the library in the Immortal Realm.
” She scanned the paneled walls, and the built-in shelving.
“Up until her father died, she’d been taking care of this one.
I’m just glad there’s more than one of us in the future because I have no idea how she managed alone. ”
Winter was dumbstruck. She’d already dropped the quill, leaving splotches of ink all over the titles meant for Division II.
After she swallowed the information Magdalene had tossed down her throat like a shot of hot whiskey, she choked out, “Then I guess we’ll ask the shifters for help with reorganizing. ”