His hands tightened. “Thank you for visiting, guildmaster.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes. Of course.”
Her mouth hung open for a moment, her shoulders raising with the shadow of an indrawn breath. She spun before she could say anything, though, striding toward the exit.
There. Owl exhaled. She was leaving.
Just as quickly, though, Indira twisted back, lowering herself into a polite bow. “I apologize again,” she said, her voice wooden. “For Olivia’s impropriety. And for my...presumptions. Truly, I am sorry.”
Owl allowed himself to nod, just once. Indira raised herself, a bitter smile on her lips. Without another word, she turned back to the door, reaching out her hand.
Light flared through the entryway, bright enough Owl winced. He didn’t blink, though, didn’t turn to leave. Somehow, it didn’t seem right. He couldn’t just walk away, not when her words still rang in his ears. Not when her offer still filled his thoughts.
It was a door he’d...he’d never thought even existed.
Finding out it was forever closed to him in the same breath made discovering it ache even worse.
He stayed there, watching the door she’d vanished through, until the light behind it faded out to nothing.
- Chapter Four -
The door clicked shut behind Owl.
He drifted away from the entryway, his coat billowing behind him gently like a ghost. Alexandria pressed in close around him, her tall shelves and narrow corridors seeming to extend forever. His eyes were downcast, fixed on the floor beneath him as it shifted from rich, plush carpets to cold stone and back to a fur rug.
All the while, his thoughts raced. Indira’s offer was there every time he closed his eyes, her words ringing in his ears. What she said. What she’d promised.
His hands quivered, his fingers trembling. He tucked them into a pocket, refusing to so much as look at them or acknowledge it. It was fine. He was fine. He’d done the best he could.
“See?” he whispered, lifting his chin at last. His eyes fixed on the chandeliers high overhead, hanging from rafters that seemed a mile up. “I didn’t abandon you. I did my duty.”
The words echoed out into the void. His confidence cracked. “Right?”
Without waiting for an answer that’d never come, he took a deep breath and turned back to the path.
It’d be good. He nodded, fixing the thought in his mind. He could take the time for the things that were really important, instead of worrying about Indira’s lackeys flitting about the Library. He could get back to his own research, and decide what he wanted for his own future.
It was good.
Turning a corner into a new wing, Owl froze. Lackeys in the Library—right. For the first time, he remembered that Alexandria wasn’t so abandoned, and he wasn’t alone here. He’d been talking to Leon and the others before Indira had arrived.
Maybe they’d left. It’d been a good while since he was called into the entryway. He shouldn’t get his hopes up.
But up they were. After so many years of solitude in the Library, the idea of being alone shouldn’t bother him so much, damn it. Knowing that didn’t change the fact his heart leapt a little.
Owl lifted his chin, his shoulders straightening a fraction of an inch. “Hey,” he said, his voice vanishing into the endless books that lined the walls. “Are they...are they here still?”
He kept walking, casting a glance to either side. When no door opened, no candle flickered, he sighed. “Alex? Are you-”
A low breeze whistled through the halls, right on the edge of hearing. The screech of tired hinges echoed through the Library.
Owl stopped abruptly, grabbing hold of a door frame. There. The door led to a cloistered hall, its domed top covered in rough-carved symbols and drawings—and at the end, another door swung open.
“Thanks,” he said, starting to grin behind his mask. “Really.” Before Alex could change her mind, he plunged down the hallway toward that point of light.
With every step, a low rumble grew. Voices. His grin widened. The doorway loomed ahead. Raising a hand, he pushed the door aside and strode into the open.
He’d expected to be blinded. Knowing Alexandria and the games she liked to play, he’d expected himself to charge out into brilliant sunlight. Instead, the room beyond was almost...soft. Cozy. It felt like that room and his quarters had been cut from the same cloth, all smooth-planed wood and warm fires. A wooden bar sat along one wall, carved from a dark, soft timber.
A familiar face stood behind it—and another pair sat on a bench in the room’s middle. One lifted his head, his eyes lighting up.
“Hey,” Leon said, planting his hands on the table and leaping upright. “That didn’t take long.”
Owl blinked. It hadn’t? It felt like it’d been a lifetime since he’d walked out. It’d been an eternity in that room with the guildmaster, and a second one as he wandered the halls. “Really?” he said.
Leon pursed his lips, leaning back in his chair. He lifted something—a cup, filled with a brightly-colored liquid. “You get...everything squared away?”
“Want a drink?” Maya said, across the table from Leon. She twisted, gesturing toward James behind the bar. “Hey, James. How about getting the Librarian here-”
“I’m good,” Owl said, waving a hand in front of his face. “You know. The, uh. Mask.”
“Oh,” Maya said, and she winced. “Yeah. I suppose that, uh…Yeah.”
“Don’t mind me,” Owl said. “Don’t let me bother you. Just...continue.”
Maya flashed a grin his way, scooting a little farther forward on her seat, and just like that, she was off yelling at James again. Something about a brunch, and something he’d said in front of...someone. Owl hardly heard them. The words were just a blur, lingering at the edges of his senses.
Stepping further into the room, he crossed to the table. The seats
