“I’ll help you,” she said, her tone cutting. She dipped a hand into one of the dozens of pockets lining her overcoat. “But know this. You are never welcome in these halls again. You’re unworthy to even carry the memory of Alexandria with you. And so you won’t.”
Adrian flinched, his eyes tightening. “Please, just-”
“Your days as guildmaster are finished,” Crow said, pulling her hand free. A vial gleamed between her fingers. Ignoring Adrian’s spluttering, she forced his head back - and worked the top loose.
His cries quieted as she poured it down his throat.
The act done, she recapped the vial, dropping it back into her pocket. Again, she reached out. “I’ll spare your life, if only so my apprentice doesn’t have to live out his being haunted. Wherever you go, whatever you do, it has nothing to do with the Library anymore.”
He blinked wildly, his eyes going unfocused. “Crow, I-”
“Begone,” she whispered, pressing two fingers to his forehead.
Owl heard Adrian cry out one final, mournful time. Light flared across the entryway.
When he opened his eyes again, the man was gone, with even the stone tiles replaced to their own perfect locations.
Crow was already crossing to Indira, holding out her hand to help the woman up.
“I-I’m sorry,” Indira stammered, rising. Tears poured from her eyes, coursing down her face. “I didn’t- I didn’t know. I never thought he’d-”
“I understand,” Crow said, and the formality had returned to her voice.
“I tried to stop him,” Indira said. “Please. Please know that. I would rather kill him than let him ruin-”
“You meant well,” Crow said, still holding Indira’s hand. Blood dribbled down the booklender’s fingers. “But there shall be no fighting in the Library. No one may die on these grounds. You know that, Indira.”
With a shuddering sob, Indira bowed her head. The black waves of her hair rippled down around her face. “I...yes. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“We’ll move past this,” Crow said quietly. “Like I said. I value the relationship we’ve had thus far. We value it.”
Indira lifted watery eyes to meet Crow’s. “T-Thank you. Really. I’m so sorry. I never-”
“But Adrian is gone, now.” Crow didn’t move, pinning Indira in place. “Congratulations, guildmaster.” Her hand tightened about Indira’s. “I pray that you might learn from your predecessor’s mistakes.”
Owl watched the woman’s face go blank with shock - and then her eyes widened. “I...oh. I...that is...yes. Yes, of course. I’ll work hard to make sure we-”
“Good. Now leave.” Crow dropped Indira’s hand, taking a step back. “You have much work to do, I think.”
Indira stammered out something else, the words completely unintelligible. She backpedaled all the while - and then, as her feet hit the wooden edge of the foyer, she dropped into a bow. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Whirling, she grabbed for the door. White poured in.
And then they were alone again. Owl drooped, caught in place staring at the door. Exhaustion washed over him, rushing in thick and heavy as the tension broke.
Something brushed against his shoulder. He jumped, yelping.
“I’m sorry,” Crow said. Her fingers squeezed his jacket.
He watched as she lifted her other hand, undoing the straps - and pulled her mask free, shaking her hood loose in the same motion.
His hand twitched, itching to reach up and mimic her. But something about her expression...he couldn’t move. There was a weight in her eyes he hadn’t seen before.
In that moment, she looked as resigned as Adrian had.
“W-Why?” Owl stammered, forcing his voice back to something more cheerful. “You were awesome! You were-”
“I couldn’t do it all,” Jean whispered, and that weight pressed down on her voice, too. “Stopping Indira - and stopping Adrian. Protecting you. I...I had to choose.”
Owl glanced back again. That knife still hung where it’d been thrown, sticking from the wall. “That’s okay,” he said. “I...I guess...I...”
His gaze dropped to the stone floor. “Something moved the floor,” he said. “And I fell. If that wasn’t you...then...”
“Alexandria looks after her own,” Jean said, and for the first time, he saw the hint of a smile on her lips. “She’ll protect you. I know she will. But...I’m still sorry. For this.” She lifted a hand, swabbing at her nose. “For everything.”
He laughed then, only a little awkwardly. “It’s...it’s okay.”
Her eyes darkened, twisting with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “No, it’s not.” But she lifted her mask before he could say another word, fixing it back in place. And then she held a hand out for him to take. “Come on. There’s more that’ll need doing today, I think.”
Owl took Crow’s hand. Something still didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t place it. He didn’t know what to say.
And so he stayed silent, and let her lead him back into the Library.
- Chapter Eight -
Owl plastered a smile onto his face, knowing full well the mask would hide the expression. “How about this?”
He squeezed his fingers a little tighter about the hand he held, looking over.
The dreamer was a child no larger than himself, his skin lit from within with blue. The boy glanced to Owl, fear filling his eyes. “But...I don’t know where he went.”
“I know,” Owl said, pulling him forward. “I’ll help you, okay? Maybe there’s an answer somewhere around here.”
Inwardly, his gut churned. This felt...weird. Outwardly, him and the boy looked about the same age. But his movements were clumsy in a way Owl’s weren’t, and getting across even the simplest idea was complicated at best.
They were different. Jean had been right. He was older - but how much so? And why?
When the dreamer didn’t move, Owl reached up, sliding one finger down against the spine of a tome. “How about this one?”
She’d told him the dreamers were exhausting to handle. She’d warned him that they needed help, that they wanted to be guided. That had been putting it lightly.
He’d no sooner pulled the book halfway from the shelf when the boy began shaking his head furiously. “No. Not that one. Something else.”
Something else like what? Owl sighed, but pushed the book back
