Codex Born

you can do. You’re amazing, but you’re not omnipotent, and you’re not a monster.”

“You haven’t seen everything.” She moistened her lips and moved her hands over the front of her body.

Between one breath and the next, I forgot all about August Harrison or Nymphs of Neptune. Blood pounded hot through my body, as if she had stripped away all traces of civilization, leaving only raw, primitive lust. I wanted to tear her clothes away, to take her right here. My chair clattered backward. I took her by the arms and pressed her against the shelves, hard enough that several books fell around us.

I didn’t care. My pelvis ground against hers as I yanked her shirt roughly over her head and flung it aside. I thrust my hand down the front of her pants, and she writhed with pleasure.

“Stop.” She pushed me away and held me at arm’s length. I tried to twist free, but her grip was unbreakable. Slowly, my arousal faded to more human levels, though my jeans still felt painfully constrictive. From the tightness of her nipples and the quickness of her breath, Lena was having similar struggles. “All right,” she gasped. “Maybe that wasn’t the best demonstration.”

I swallowed and backed away. “What did you do to me?”

“I’m sorry.” She turned away. “I told you once that I could feel lust in others. I never told you I could manipulate that lust.”

“Chapter four,” I whispered. The fourth chapter of Nymphs of Neptune put protagonist John Rule in the middle of a territorial conflict between a river nymph and a dryad. It was yet another layer of the author’s wish fulfillment fantasy, with both nymphs battling first over their borders, then over Rule himself, each stoking his desire until he was little more than an animal. He wound up bedding them both, naturally. “Before you and I got together…” I trailed off, uncertain how to finish the question.

“Never,” Lena said firmly. “Not since before I met Nidhi. Sometimes I have to work to stop myself, but I wouldn’t do that to you, or to her.”

A part of me was angry at the loss of control. Another part wanted desperately for her to do it again.

“Imagine what I could make you do. What I could make men do. Many women as well.” She folded her arms over her breasts. “I used to seduce Frank when I wanted him. Or when I wanted to punish his wife.”

I bit the inside of my lip. The pain helped me to focus.

“I fought her once,” Lena continued. “She couldn’t take it anymore, so she attacked me. I broke her hand.”

“You were protecting yourself,” I said.

“Marion was never a real threat. I hurt her because I wanted to. Because I enjoyed it. I liked fighting for Frank. I liked the power I had over her, and the sound of her crying.” She bent to retrieve her shirt. “The dryads Harrison creates will be worse.”

I nodded and returned to the computer. “Then let’s find a way to stop him.”

According to our system, Robin McKinley’s Beauty was on the reserved shelf. Thankfully, the person who had placed a hold on the book hadn’t yet been by to pick it up.

The Copper River Library might not have Nymphs of Neptune, but the Beast’s magical library in Beauty held a copy of every book ever written. As I reached into the story, I found myself wondering at the implications of such a library. Did the Beast sit around reading fairy-tale retellings? What would he make of modern erotic fiction like 50 Shades of Grey? Had he discovered his own book, and what kind of magical paradox might I create if I used this book to create a new copy of Beauty?

This wasn’t the time for experiments, dammit. I focused on the book I needed, and pulled Nymphs of Neptune through the pages.

“Can you lock it?” Lena asked.

“I don’t know how.” I opened the book and swore. Both times I had read Nymphs of Neptune, it had felt empty: a void whose life was locked away by Gutenberg’s magic. As I skimmed the opening pages now, I could feel the book’s magic waiting just beneath the page. I ran my fingers over the rough, yellowed paper. “They’ve got it.”

“If we call Gutenberg—”

“Do it, but I’m not sure it will work. Bi Wei might be too strong.”

Those words broke something within Lena. She tried not to let it show, but her entire bearing changed. She closed her eyes, and the energy and alertness that always reminded me of a pacing cat drained from her body. When she spoke, her words were listless. “Can you stop them from using it?”

“Maybe.”

While she dialed the phone, I reached into the pages and allowed the icy air of Neptune to flow into the library. If there were a way to fine-tune the flow of this book’s magic, I might never need to pay for air conditioning again.

“Nobody’s answering,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

“Breaking one of the cardinal rules of libriomancy,” I said. “I’m going to deliberately char the everliving hell out of this book.”

I reached deeper until my fingers touched frigid snow.

Lena dialed another number. “Exactly how dangerous is this plan?”

“Calling it a ‘plan’ might be a bit of an overstatement.”

She turned away, and I heard her filling someone in on what was happening. Hopefully Gutenberg could fix this, but I couldn’t afford to concentrate on that conversation.

John Rule had been transported from Earth to the underground world of Neptune. According to the author’s ridiculous pseudoscience, the ice of the frozen surface somehow focused the rays of the sun like a giant magnifying lens, providing light and just enough warmth to the inhabitants below.

I pulled that environment into our world, channeling the book until my breath began to fog and frost crept across the floor.

I heard the characters calling to me. Whispering seductively, giggling as they invited me back to lavish bedchambers furnished in the thick furs of ferocious alien beasts. I heard their grunts and cries as they fought each other for the entertainment of their Neptunian lords. Just as Lena had fought Frank Dearing’s wife.

This was the book that had birthed Lena Greenwood. One of the strongest women I knew, and she had been written as a sexual plaything. I wanted to bring the author back from the grave purely so Lena, Nidhi, and I could take turns punching him in the face. And yet, without his trash, Lena would have never been a part of my life.

“He’s trying, but Bi Wei is holding the book open somehow.” Lena covered the phone. “Isaac, your arm.”

I glanced down. The skin of my wrist and forearm had taken on a faint bluish tinge, and I couldn’t feel anything from the elbow down. I wrenched my hand free of the book. Pain hit a moment later as blood flow returned to my numb fingers. I clamped my jaw to keep from shouting.

Cold continued to flow from the book. “I probably should have done this out back,” I said through clenched teeth.

The voices were growing louder. John Rule shouted defiantly at the Prince of Harku’unn, the northernmost kingdom of Neptune. I tightened my fist, feeling the weight of his stone-bladed sword, and his need to act. I would strike down the tyrant who would torture and enslave the free people of Harku’unn, including the exiled nymph who had saved my life.

“Isaac!”

One of the prince’s dryads stepped closer, her barbarian weapon held in a defensive position. I raised my own sword.

“Oh, hell.” The dryad parried my thrust and stepped inside my guard. Her other hand caught my chin and lifted, twisting my spine and forcing me off balance. She kicked my front leg out from under me before I could recover.

I landed hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. My sword fell, and my shield fluttered to the ground.

I blinked. I was reasonably certain shields weren’t supposed to flutter.