The trapped intruder said something else, but Owl wasn’t listening anymore. He reached for the walls, hands spread wide, and slowly, very slowly, brought them together.
Alexandria creaked, shifting—and started to move. Closer and closer, the walls swept together, turning the room into a hallway, then a crawlspace. The brick cell vanished from sight, somewhere in the middle. Owl winced, but kept going. “You’ll be fine,” he whispered. “You won’t dig yourself out of that. Just sit there and wait for your friends to pull you out of my dream.”
And then the Library was quiet, and there was just a smooth, unmarked wall where the study had been. Owl backed away, breathing a weary sigh.
Lifting his head high, he followed after the two escapees.
- Chapter Thirty-Five -
High over the bookshelves, Owl reclined.
He’d found a decently comfortable seat today, at least, which was probably Alexandria’s doing. The wing he’d taken up roost in was an especially tall study, with cunningly worked shelves looming four stories over the tables and desks below. He’d thanked his lucky stars, nabbed a cushion off one of the chairs at the bottom, and climbed all the way up to perch atop the very highest shelf, leaning against the wall. It wasn’t perfect—if the Booklenders didn’t pass through this wing, he wouldn’t see them—but so far as watchtowers went, this one wasn’t bad.
Time was beginning to blur. The realization had been sobering, when it first passed through his mind. Alex was doing her best for him, marking out the passage of hours in the brightness of the candles around him, but even still...he shook his head. He’d always relied on the central clock in the sitting room to mark out the length of his visits. Now, without it…
It didn’t matter. At this stage, the time he spent inside Alexandria was irrelevant.
He leaned his head back against the brick wall, clasping his hands before him, and sighed. Leon was his last hope. He hadn’t shown up inside Alex again, which...Daniel smiled faintly. That was good. Leon didn’t need to be here for this, for the skirmishes and battles that were starting to stretch out over what had to be weeks. The intruders were incessant. He’d expected them to flee back to the outside world once they’d been pushed back the first time, but they kept regrouping, trying to corner him.
They had to be getting hungry, at least. He doubted very much Alex was feeding them, and while living inside the Library was more like a dream than reality, most people didn’t know that eating was unnecessary. Such habits were hard to break, especially for those who weren’t born to the way things worked among the shelves. And he’d heard them muttering and moaning to each other, the times he’d snuck up on them.
He’d managed to trap one other, aside from the walled-up man he’d left buried in the closed-up wing. Two underlings down. It was a good start, at least.
Just a little longer. The hope burned in his chest, refusing to go out no matter how improbable it was. Just a little longer, and Leon would find help. He’d been looking up mages-for-hire. Somehow, Owl had to believe that he’d gotten a name out. A phone number. He’d find more mages, ones strong enough to help, and he’d come back. He’d-
“Why’s it have to be me?” someone grumbled.
Owl stiffened. A voice—somewhere beneath him. And with Alexandria purged of anyone he’d call an ally, that left the options few and far between as to the speaker.
Slowly, careful to keep anything from dropping, he leaned forward to peer deep into the heart of the study. A figure crept out of the shadows, looking about fearfully. Step by step, they emerged into the candlelight.
Owl lifted himself to a crouch. One of the minions, alone? A smile curled onto his lips. He wouldn’t mind the chance to lock away another of their goons, even if it meant sealing this wing up, too. There were always more wings of the Library to use.
The figure took another step, coming to a stop, and Owl moved.
He threw himself from the shelf with only a twinge of fear for the height, his eyes glued to that lone man. His fingers clenched, squeezing at the air—and he felt it rise beneath him, burgeoning to fill his jacket and push back against his feet.
Down, down, down. His thoughts narrowed, zeroing in on the intruder as the shelves flew past. His feet slammed down-
-And he lunged forward, hands wide. The air before him thickened, starting to solidify.
The man spun, eyes going round, and cursed. He swiped right back, batting the growing crystals from the air with a puff of wind.
Owl cursed, too. This was the problem. Their comfort level with Alexandria’s magic had been growing day by day, which made his job in containing them harder. And-
Still half-twisted, the man grabbed for something beneath his coat. When he yanked it free, he clutched a gun in his hand.
Biting back a gasp, Owl ducked to the side. The report of the man’s pistol echoed through the Library, distorting to little more than an eerie shriek as it rebounded from window to window.
The ground beneath the man’s feet rippled like a piece of fabric, and he went down hard. Owl darted forward, stretching a hand toward the weapon, and breathed a sigh of relief as it flew away from the intruder.
Thanks, he whispered, dragging a foot against the stone floor. Alexandria hadn’t been able to help him much, and he wasn’t sure why. Something about the fact they’d entered through his mind instead of through her doors, or the fact she couldn’t make them leave? She’d intervene if the threat to his safety became too pointed, but seemed hesitant to help otherwise.
A scrap of paper fluttered down before him. Do no harm, he saw penciled on its surface, and rolled his eyes. “I know,” he muttered. “But
