A pair of hands grabbed his wrist, with a jostle that promised the others were right behind him.
“Owl! Boy, you have to help me. I still need to-”
“Oh, lay off, Marv. I just need-”
“Oh, come on! We should-”
Owl rocked, pushed back and forth by their grappling hands, and watched as Crow vanished into the hallway beyond.
* * * * *
“I still don’t understand why we have to go,” one of the scholars muttered under his breath.
Owl laughed awkwardly. Their guests filed down the hallway in a scraggly row, clutching their journals to their chests like a lifeline. Crow had taken up the lead - which left him to follow behind, making sure none of them tried to dart off and hide deeper within Alexandria.
She hadn’t spoken since she’d arrived in the study that morning. She’d only opened the door, bowed low, then...waited. The sight of her standing silhouetted in the lantern-light had been enough to move the guests - by sheer unease, if not actual desire to leave.
And now they all walked toward the exit, step after step.
Indira would be furious, Owl knew. His hands clenched up. He tucked them into his jacket, keeping his head high and his steps even. They’d just worked through the last incident - and Adrian had been worried about exactly this event. How would Crow justify them kicking everyone back out?
She wasn’t slowing down to let him ask, and so he hurried on, still scanning the line of scholars.
A creak echoed back from the front of the line. Owl craned his head, bouncing up to his tiptoes, and saw Crow slip into the entryway.
One after another, they filed in. There were enough of them to fill the room, bunching together in an uncomfortable mass. Crow stood by the exit, her shoulders slumped.
“I’m sorry, again,” she said, turning and raising her voice. “I know this is unplanned.
“If you’re so sorry,” one began, but she turned her black-feather mask toward him with a snap. He shut up.
“Your library cards have already been amended,” Crow continued, still glaring at the man. “Once the doors have reopened, I encourage each of you to return for the remainder of your study.”
Her foot kicked out, impacting the door behind her. It groaned open, filling the room with light, and she stepped out of the entryway.
The visitors stood frozen, pinned in place by the fierce glow. No one seemed willing to take the first step.
Owl shifted from foot to foot, a bead of moisture rolling down the small of his back. Go, he willed, screaming in the silence of his mind. Just go, and-
Crow cleared her throat. Pointedly.
The man out front glowered, muttering something dark and foul under his breath - but took a step forward, trudging into the doorway.
As though spurred by his movement, the others stumbled forward. One after another, they passed through the doorway, blurring out into the blinding light.
Marv lingered, glancing back, and his eyes connected with Owl’s. The man smiled faintly, and inclined his head.
And then he too was gone, and Crow stepped forward.
The door shut behind them, blocking out the light. She dropped her hand into her pocket, pulling out a familiar key from within.
Just like before, the sound of a heavy, final clunk echoed through the chamber.
They were alone. Again.
Owl stood transfixed, lingering by the entrance still. Crow turned, pulling her hood loose from her head and starting to undo the straps holding her mask on. He perked up, leaping to follow her lead. Freedom from the heavy, hot clay? He didn’t need to be told twice.
He worked the mask free, cradling it against his chest with a happy sigh - and stopped.
“There,” Jean said, taking a step forward. “That’s settled. Sorry, kid. I know that wasn’t a pleasant event.”
“Y-Yeah,” he stammered. “Will...Will they...”
Her steps slowed. “Indira won’t be happy,” she said, her voice low. “But there’s no other choice. And I’ll honor their damn stamps. They’ll get their full day here - later.”
“Okay,” Daniel whispered, his eyes still fixed to her. “Should I...I could go back to the wings and continue studying. Or maybe you could show me how to-”
His throat closed around the words as Jean looked toward him, her green eyes tired. “Yeah,” she said, smiling gently. “I’ve got another lesson. Something we need to discuss.” She lifted a hand, running her fingers through her hair as though she could shake the exhaustion loose. “Look after your own duties for a while. When you’ve finished...” Her lips hung open and parted, her eyes unreadable. Finally, she straightened herself, pinning the mask to her waistband. “Come find me, once you’ve seen to everything.”
She didn’t say where, and he didn’t need to ask. She turned without another word, striding off into the Library.
He watched her go, motionless. His eyes stayed glued to her form.
And to the silver that streaked her once-soft brown hair.
* * * * *
The arched walls loomed around him, eerily silent.
Daniel hurried onward, one final book clutched in his hand. Rooms swept past - a cave, filled with scrolls. A tent, with richly painted skins hanging from every available surface. But none of them looked right for the book he held.
He was being stupid. He knew he was being stupid, and yet...he couldn’t quite make himself stop. He’d done as Jean asked. He’d gone back to his normal duties, seeing to Alexandria’s needs as the silence fell heavier and heavier around them.
Through the months of having outsiders crawling all over their library, he’d never have expected to become used to them. He never thought he’d miss the noise, the call of familiar voices. But now, Alexandria just felt...empty.
A feeling made all the worse by Jean’s odd distance, the frailty that seemed to grow within her with every passing second.
And so he’d dragged his feet, carrying the texts to their new homes in ones and twos when he could have carried the stacks aloft with his mind. He’d scoured every last wing for a dreamer, praying
