Rivers, and fountains, and oceans. A shiver ran down Daniel’s spine.
Water. Rickard was talking about these ley lines as though they were water—and almost unbidden, an image swam up before his eyes, of a woman’s statue, straddling the teardrop-point of a well. He could still remember how deep it was, as though it’d go on forever. He could remember the spiderweb veins and arteries of silver-blue liquid, seeping from her statue deeper into the Library.
He was familiar with this ‘water’.
Daniel hardened his expression, though, refusing to let even an ounce of recognition show on his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know anything about that.”
“Yes, yes,” Rickard said, shrugging him off. “I’m quite sure of that, Librarian.” He made a face. “There must be something else I can call you. All this Librarian, Librarian business. It’s far too stuffy.”
“Owl.”
Rickard wrinkled his nose. “That isn’t much better, I fear. Surely there must be something. You have a name, do you not?”
Daniel shook his head, as best he could with Tonya’s nails jabbed into his scalp. “Not for you.”
He watched, mute, as Rickard sat back again. “Now, really,” Rickard said, more softly. “I think you’ll find that the two of us will be stuck together for quite some time. It will be to everyone’s benefit for us to dispense of this stubbornness.”
Rickard paused, waiting, as though he expected Daniel to capitulate and hand his name over just like that. When he didn’t, Rickard sighed, glancing to Tonya.
That brand tore through his mind again. He yelped, cringing away, but she didn’t let him go.
“It’s all here,” Tonya said through gritted teeth. “I just have to- dig a little. Daniel. He’s- He’s Daniel. And-”
“That’s enough, that’s enough,” Rickard said, right back to waving his hand. “Don’t push yourself, Tonya. Your work will be difficult enough. No need to rush.”
Daniel slumped lower as the pain receded. In an instant, he’d lost even the scrap of secrecy he had. Gone, in the snapping of a telepath’s fingers.
They knew who he was. And now, even if he by some miracle managed to get away...his life as Dan had just been exposed. Could he even go back, if they knew?
“Well,” he heard Rickard say. “Daniel. I was hoping you’d tell me about-”
Tonya gasped, twitching. Her hand jerked against his head.
In the same moment, he heard the others moving, too. Indira, and the others. They were stirring with muted groans, stumbling to their feet.
Rickard spun to face them, his eyes lighting up. “Well? Could you see inside? Tell me about it.”
Indira shook her head, raising a hand to stop him. “We...We were stopped. The doors wouldn’t open.” She glanced to Daniel, expressionless. “The lights inside were dark.”
“Closed,” he rasped, breathing deeply again. “She doesn’t like random visitors. You...You know that.”
“I see,” Rickard mused. “So...this Library will not open unless her Librarian is present.” He pursed his lips, staring at Daniel, then sighed. “I was hoping to avoid this problem. I suspect that our, ah, negotiations will be more difficult, in your domain.”
It was Daniel’s turn to grin, starting to laugh hollowly. “You’re just worried I’m going to kick your ass. Listen to that worry.”
“Nevertheless,” Rickard said, crossing the room again. “Janik! We have need of your services again. And fetch Darin, please?”
Someone called back, their voice muffled—and then the dark-haired man from before emerged. He glanced at Daniel, then back to Rickard. “What do you need?”
“It looks like we need our Librarian friend inside his Library before the doors will unlock,” Rickard said. “Darin should be able to dream-walk us in—so long as Daniel is dreaming.” He nodded once, meaningfully. “If you would?”
“Oh,” the man said, and started fumbling with the pockets on his coat. He had lots of them, Daniel saw. Each of them seemed full to bursting, and he saw what looked like tiny plastic-capped tubes poking from more than a few. “Uh...yeah. I can do that.”
He advanced on Daniel, plucking one loose. Red-black liquid splashed within it.
“He has to be dreaming,” Rickard said from behind the man. “He does not have to be in full control of himself.” A low chuckle rippled across the room. “In fact, if he is not, that would-”
“Got it,” Janik said. A second vial joined the first, and he glanced to Tonya. “Hold him?”
A hand grasped his jaw, another settling in his hair again. Daniel squirmed, but there was no way to resist.
With the vials being liquid-filled, he expected Janik to try and feed them to him—but instead, the mage popped the tops loose, letting a drop of each fall to Daniel’s forehead.
Mulberries—and woodsmoke. Daniel’s eyes unfocused, his shoulders tightening.
“He’s on his way,” Janik said, turning away. Even as he moved, he blurred, his outline dispersing into the haze. “As soon as…”
His words faded, too, as Daniel fell. This time, though, he knew where he was going—Alexandria. He was going home.
And this time, he wouldn’t lose so easily.
- Chapter Thirty-Three -
Daniel’s eyes snapped open.
Just as quickly, he twisted, scrabbling to get upright. The ties about his wrists were gone. The chair was gone. Even the people were gone, leaving him alone amidst the bookshelves of Alexandria.
This time, he wasn’t surprised by the transition back to the Library. Rickard and the others hadn’t been shy about their goals here—they wanted in. If they needed Daniel to be inside Alexandria for them to enter, well, it looked like that was a risk they were willing to take.
Breathing hard, he pulled himself upright. His head pounded, aching, and the ground beneath him seemed to move with every uncertain step he took.
“That man,” he whispered. “Janik.” He’d dripped something onto Daniel, like he was a damn alchemist.
