A storm. His thoughts ran circles as he pushed them deeper into Alexandria, struggling to find...something. An answer. An explanation. Some way for him to categorize the chaos. He’d called it a hurricane, before, and that seemed as accurate as anything. A storm. Of magic?
The words seemed to fit. They seemed right, as though he’d heard them before. Owl clenched his teeth, dashing down another aisle. Once they got to the main hallway, they’d-
He skidded around the end of the bookshelf, and lurched to a stop.
There was no hallway. No grand, towering passage of stone and glass, ready to lead him back into Alexandria’s heart. An archway waited in the wall alongside him, warm and inviting even in the maelstrom - but its wooden-timber opening gave way to a multi-level study lined with warm furs and massive, haphazardly-stacked books.
Not the way back.
“Shit,” Owl breathed.
“What?” Olivia said, her voice a single step removed from a shriek. “W-What do you mean, shit? Where’s the-”
“The path isn’t here,” Owl said. His heart hammered in his chest. “So...just...”
“What do we do? Why isn’t it-”
“Just let me think,” he said, grabbing her hand again and squeezing. The back of his mind was still in chaos from her and...from what she’d hoped to do, but he couldn’t help but offer that tiny bit of comfort. “We...We can...”
Alexandria wasn’t changing to suit them anymore. She wasn’t responding to their need. Which - near as he could guess, anyhow - meant that Alexandria was not here. She wasn’t watching, or if she was, she couldn’t change herself for them.
They were on their own.
He turned his face toward the door, square to the ever-rushing currents of air. “We’ll go back on foot.”
Olivia’s hands tightened about his arm. “Is that even possible?”
“Of course it is.” He hoped it was. They’d come this far by winding through Alexandria’s maze of studies and shelves. There’d be a way back - or a way to the source of that horrible storm, more importantly.
Hopefully he’d find a passage back to the sitting room before it got that far.
Hopefully the sitting room was still safe for her and-
“Will,” Owl gasped, stiffening. “He might still be out here. He might be-”
“He’s back in the study,” Olivia said, raising her voice over the ever-increasing din. “Go!”
“But he could have gone out. He might’ve-”
“He’s there, okay?” Her hand braced off his shoulder, pushing hard. “Just trust me. Go!”
She knew? How could she know? Owl took an unsteady step forward, still unsure, but groaned. Even if Will was still out here, there was no way for them to find him. Not until Alexandria calmed down and started listening to him again.
He broke into a shambling run, unsteady at first but picking up speed. Olivia hovered at his side, her breath ragged in his ears.
One way or another, he’d make sure both of them came out the far side safe.
Somehow.
“This way,” he called, pushing harder. The shelves towered on either side of them, rising to a roof of exposed timbers. It was tall, yes, but the room itself was short enough he could already see the opening to another passage on the far side. A cave entrance, rough-hewn and coated with markings painted in a thick, vibrant pigment.
The temperature dropped as soon as they crossed the threshold - as did the wind, slowing to a distant roar. He seized the sudden silence left by its absence, dashing past pile after pile of scrolls.
The hallways wouldn’t work. He had to find his own way. Since he already knew the direction, all he had to do was keep moving that way and-
With a shriek of stone shifting against stone, the cave shuddered around them - and a section of it chipped away entirely. Olivia’s scream disappeared into the howling wind, suddenly back stronger than ever. Her hand batted at his arm. He grabbed her hand again, locking his grip about her wrist. “Don’t stop!” he roared.
It probably didn’t need to be said again - and yet, he’d seen the blue flames lapping at the ceiling, melting away the stone like it was no more solid than foam. Rivulets of blue poured from the destroyed sections, splattering into the air to whisk off into the wind.
His eyes snapped to the blue - to the liquid that glowed from within. Just like...He swallowed, still charging onward.
Just like magic. Like Alexandria’s magic. Whatever this storm was, it was tearing her apart in its drive for-
“Down!” Olivia shrieked, and her arm became an iron bar slamming his shoulder groundward. He tumbled, bent double at the waist while his feet struggled to keep up.
Something flew over his head. The scrolls - and books. Lots of books. They shot away faster than his eyes could follow, inches from his head.
The hand that’d dragged him down a few moments before shoved him back into motion. “Go! Go, Owl, before-”
“I know,” he said, forcing himself to a run again. Just a few more steps. A few more, and-
The cavemouth disappeared from around them with a brilliant surge of light. Owl bolted out into the next chamber - a library wing as traditional as any he’d seen, with a high ceiling and one wall covered by the intricate pipes of an organ.
His eyes lingered on the shelves of books, though, sudden trepidation lacing his steps. The magic back there...it’d torn a hole in the wall, in the ceiling. To get at the books. That itself opened the door to a whole host of questions. Not least of which was “How many books to the head does it take to kill a Librarian and his guest?”
“Hurry,” he gasped instead, clutching at her wrist and towing her faster. “Hurry, hurry.”
Left. Back in the courtyard, the magical storm had been kitty-corner to him. They’d already crossed a substantial portion of the Library to make it this far,
