“The Library needs a Librarian!” Indira cried, giving that pendant a shake. “You need one now, before all is lost.”
“B-Bitch,” Daniel spat, squirming beneath her. “She has a-”
“A real one,” Indira said, her voice lowering—but filling with intensity. “One who understands the demands that your service requires. One who undertakes them willingly. One who wants to serve you.”
Footsteps. Bare skin against concrete and fabric. Alexandria was moving, Daniel realized, stepping closer.
He heard Indira take a deep breath. “You’ve suffered for almost two decades under the direction of someone who hasn’t embraced these things. Who pushed back against you, against what you really need. There might be another five decades to come. Longer. Is that what you want?”
Daniel’s eyes widened. Still fighting for breath, he crumpled beneath Indira, going quiet.
Because it wasn’t right. He could still remember the frustration in Indira’s voice as she’d proposed her deal. The perfect sadness-tinged horror in Leon’s eyes as he learned the truth of Daniel’s internment. The way he’d had this duty handed down to him wasn’t right.
But was passing it off to Indira any better? Was it even possible?
Her fingers tightened painfully in his hair, and he flinched, biting back a yelp. “I want this,” Indira said, her voice fervent. “I will be your perfect servant. We’ll be partners, just as it was meant to be. I have the knowledge, and the experience, and the will. Leave this boy behind, and we can do anything we set our minds to.”
Alexandria hadn’t spoken. Not a single word, when she’d been perfectly chatty with Madis. Gritting his teeth against the pain and the fire in his scalp, Daniel lifted his head.
Alexandria stared down at him, tight-lipped. Her eyes bored into his—not Indira’s.
His.
He froze. The rest of it faded away—Indira’s continued pleas, the agony in his limbs, the groaning of wood as the Edge inched closer. All that existed was the two of them, and the question that hung unspoken in the air.
What did he want?
Indira’s hand closed in the matted mess that had once been his ponytail, slamming his face back into the concrete. “I’m sorry!” he heard her cry. “I know you don’t want to lose him. But you must let him go, for the good of the world. If you choose to keep your hands clean, then...”
Something glimmered at the edge of Daniel’s vision. A knife. She’d pulled a blade from her pocket, swinging it high over her head in the next breath.
A smile tugged at his lips. For a moment, he could make out a scene, worn-out and faded from the years long gone. Of him, and the guildmaster that’d tried to remove the ‘mistake’ of the new Librarian’s apprentice, and Indira. She’d looked so terrified, then, turning a shard of glass on her own companion in his defense.
Those years had changed so much. They’d changed him—and Indira.
And someone like her couldn’t be allowed to become Librarian.
Daniel surged from the ground, pushing off with all the strength his muscles and magic could muster. Indira shrieked, dragging at his hair and trying to cling to him, but he twisted loose.
Her arm tensed. The knife in her hand wobbled, her fingers clenching about it, and-
One more time.
Getting one foot underneath him, Daniel slammed himself backward into Indira like a battering ram. His head struck something—something that crunched under the impact. The knife clattered to the ground. She stumbled backward, blindly clutching her bleeding, broken nose.
Too late, he realized the mistake she’d made. He leapt toward her, thrusting out a hand for her to grab, but the damage had been done.
The Edge didn’t move, as such. A blurred, foggy tendril just reached out lazily, embracing Indira as she tripped and fell into the void.
And then she was...gone. The clouds puffed once, wiping away the last motes of dust, then continued churning. Daniel stared, unable to tear his eyes from the place where she’d vanished.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered at last, swallowing. “I’m sorry, Indira.”
She’d left him no choice—and it’d been her own mistake that dealt the final blow. He still hadn’t wished it for her.
Closing his eyes, he turned away. He needed to keep moving, before Alexandria disappeared entirely. He needed to find his necklace, and-
His necklace, that Indira had been holding.
Ice flooded his veins. Daniel grabbed at his chest, searching for something he already knew wasn’t there. “Shit,” he gasped. “Oh, shit, Alex. Please. W-What do I do? What should I do now?”
He spun, eyes wide, still clawing at his jacket. “What the hell am I supposed to-”
He stopped.
A woman stood there, between him and Alexandria. Mouse-brown hair hung past her shoulders, framing eyes as green as grass and a face so familiar it ached to the heart of him, only young and filled with life. He’d never seen her before, not like this, as young as he was—only he had, he realized. He’d seen her in distant figures walking the shelves, the shadowy helper protecting him as Alexandria collapsed onto his head. He’d heard her call to him at every turn, right when it mattered the most.
Jean smiled, her eyes sad.
“You,” Daniel whispered, finding his voice. “B-But...Why? How are you-”
“You have to choose,” she said. “The rest….answers always come with time, Daniel. But right now, you have to choose, before the choice is taken away from you forever.”
He shook his head, blinking furiously. His eyes burned. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes,” she said, still smiling faintly. “You do.”
She raised her hand—and there, glittering faintly in the silvery-blue light, hung a necklace. A golden book pendant bounced at its end. His breath hitched. “Impossible,” he whispered. “But it...I saw it…”
Her eyes were fixed to his, sad and shadowed.
“You have to choose.”
- Chapter Thirty-Nine -
Jean.
Here.
In Alexandria. Alive? Or-
“What is this?” Daniel whispered. “What’s going on? Jean...where did you go? I looked for you. For so
