She was clearly relieved. “Oh, okay, cool. Listen, I think we can smooth things over with the others if we can show that you can be a good sport. You know, let bygones be bygones, that kind of thing?”
I didn’t really think I cared that much what a bunch of adolescent pre-mages thought of me, but I thought it’d probably be best to play along. “Sure, how do we do that?”
“We come up with a nickname for you, you know now that you’re bald. We could call you, um, baldy? Or maybe egghead? That would fit with you being so keen to go to the library and all.”
I kept my face carefully expressionless. “A nickname. Yeah. What a great idea. Or we could, you know, just not do that.”
Mary missed by lack of enthusiasm. “Awesome! I’ll start thinking of some names and then you can pick the one you’d like the best.” She beamed at me. “This is really going to help you
, like, fit in more.” She glanced down at her watch and her faced paled suddenly. “Oh, I’ve got to go. Are you okay from here? Can you make it back to your own room and to the dining hall without any problems?”
“Sure,” I reassured her.
“Okay. Lunch is at 1pm and then you’ve got Illusion, Divination and then dinner at 7pm. The librarian inside who’s called Slim will tell you what to do.” She gave me a big wave and then ran off.
I watched her go and then reached out to touch the wooden dragon just one more time. “Hey little guy,” I whispered to it.
Then I pulled my hand away and opened the door.
An inadvertent gasp left me. I hadn’t expected anythi
ng on this scale, even after seeing the ornate library doors.
The entire room was massive. Vast stained glass windows surrounded two sides, letting in bolts of coloured light that danced over the towering teak bookshelves housing stacks and stacks of books. I took a step forward and looked up in awe. There must have been at least three storeys housed inside that one cavernous space, and every inch was filled with space, light and knowledge. There was a curving wrought iron staircase to the left of the room, leading upwards to a mezzanine level that contained even more stacks. The glorious scent of old ink and vellum wafted towards my nostrils and I inhaled deeply, briefly closing my eyes. Here, more than anywhere else that I’d visited in the academy, I felt at home.
I moved forward to the first row of bookshelves and slowly walked down it, trailing my index finger across the titles, feeling the different textures and raised embossed letters engraved inside. Some of the books appeared old, perhaps by even hundreds of years, whilst others could have been published yesterday. Every so often, a title caught my interest, and I hooked it off the shelf to peer at the cover before sliding it back into its place. There were the inevitable tomes relating to the five disciplines, but also histories, treatises on different denizens of the otherworld, spell guides and instructions…I took in the range incredulously. My thoughts inevitably flickered back to the smouldering remains of the Clava bookshop. Mrs. Alcoon would love it here. I loved it here.
Thinking of my old friend
reminded me of my purpose so, taking in Mary’s words, I reluctantly left the books alone and went in search of Slim, the librarian. I wandered in and out of the aisles, occasionally glancing upwards to admire the windows and the way they distributed the light around the entire floor. It took quite some time to cover the ground floor, by which time I’d determined that it was empty. Finding it hard to believe that there weren’t more students here making use of such a marvellous space and range of books, I headed for the staircase and climbed upwards. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming behind my eyes, but my surroundings allowed me to ignore it as little more than a nuisance. Instead I let myself soak up the view of thousands upon thousands of books that were laid out on the floor that was now below me.
As I’d surmised from my stunned view around as I’d entered, the next floor showcased more shelves and more books. Behind me were a range of several closed doors, no doubt small carrels for private and quiet study.
Ahead of me, the mezzanine seemed to stretch backwards for miles so I headed in that direction, moving deeper in.
“Hello?” I attempted calling out. “Miss Slim?” My voice echoed back towards me, hinting at the absence of any other being. I thought for a moment, the
n called out again, “Mr. Slim?”
Nothing.
I shrugged and kept moving forward. Gender distinctions notwithstanding, Mary had been sure that the librarian would be here, so I probably just had to look a little further. The area I was moving into was considerably less well lighted than everywhere else, probably because the stacks of shelves on this level were so tall that they were starting to block out the sunlight streaming in from the windows. The hackles on my skin were starting raise, for no apparent reason, and I suddenly shivered. Telling myself that it was just the slight drop in temperature now that I was no longer bathed in the warm sun, I continued on to a small door that I noticed at the back of the room. Set into the wall on its own, as it was, I reckoned that this was not just another study carrel, but either a cupboard or a doorway to another part of the vast library. I reached out to twist the doorknob to check when a sharp voice with an oddly Irish sounding lilt from behind interrupted me.
“What the fe
ck do you think you’re doing?”
I blinked and began to turn around. Finally. “I’m looking for…
,” My voice died away as I took in whom I was addressing.
In front of me, hovering in the air at about eye level, was what I could only describe as a chubby purple gargoyle. But this creature was most definitely not made of stone or
affixed to some ancient building. Small wings attached to its back were fluttering in the air. It seemed impossible that they would be capable of supporting the creature’s weight in flight, and yet that’s exactly what was happening. A pair of dark flashing eyes were narrowed at me from under a set of bushy white eyebrows that curled out further than should really be allowed. The creature placed its hands on its hips, creating such a comical image that it was impossible not to suddenly smirk.
“What the feck is so funny?”
I wiped the grin off my face with a struggle. “Er…nothing. Sorry.” I licked my lips and composed myself. “Are you…” I glanced downwards from the creature’s face for a moment, feeling my cheeks warm ever so slightly. Definitely not a Miss Slim, then. “…Mr. Slim?”
The small creature growled at me. “Of fecking course, I am. You’ll be that fecking
hairless trouble-maker then, I suppose? This area is completely out of bounds to you. You are only allowed on the ground floor.” He fixed me with a beady eyed glare as if daring me to argue. “Dean’s orders.”
“I was looking for you,” I hastily protested, most definitely not wanting to create yet another enemy for myself. I may have been somewhat tardy with that wish, however, because Slim wheeled round in the air with a large snort and flapped off back down towards the staircase, clearly expecting me to follow him.
I sighed and followed the little creature as he continued to snort and mutter to himself. I only caught a few snatches of words, but the general gist appeared to be along the lines of ‘why the feck had he been lumbered with educating a great oaf like me’. I supposed that at least I’d finally met someone today, outside of Mary, who wasn’t terrified of getting on my bad side.
When we got back down to the ground floor, he led me to a desk area in one of the corners. There was a pile of about ten books, lying next to a pad and a pencil. Slim jerked his head towards them.
“There are your fecking books. Read them. Here. Then there’s a test.” He brushed some imaginary dust off his shoulder with a clawed hand. “Don’t touch anything else. You are not permitted to take any books out of this room. And don’t fecking bother me.” He sniffed and then fluttered off until I lost him in among some of the stacks.
I turned and looked down at the books, feeling a twist of regret that I apparently wasn’t to be given more freedom to explore the library in more depth. Still, reading a few books had to be easier than
staring at a stone for two hours or trying to summon a sprite. I pulled out the chair and sat heavily down on it, picking up the pencil and running my hand over my naked skull. No problem.
*
Several hours later, my brain was swimming. The language in the books was virtually archaic. Facts and figures merged together into dizzying nonsense, and my head was pounding. I’d been vaguely aware at different points of other people entering and leaving the library, but they’d all given me a wide berth. I supposed that I should be thankful for being able to have uninterrupted peace and quiet in order to study. I pushed the chair back and was about to stand up, when Slim appeared, hovering at my shoulder.
“Are you ready for the fecking test?”
The pain in my head protested and intensified at the idea of having to continue to think and focus, but I nodded dumbly and reached behind my neck to massage it. The little creature remained expressionless, and instead placed a sheet of paper in front of me that he’d magicked from seemingly nowhere. He also picked up the pile of books, raising a single bushy eyebrow at me as he did so. I was vaguely impressed that he managed to balance the pile of books in one hand, and vaguely insulted that he thought that I’d cheat and had to whisk them away from me. I had to try hard not to bite out an annoyed comment and instead tucked the chair back in, curling my ankles around the legs. I rubbed my forehead and began.
All the books had been incredibly dry documents detailing
long histories and laws relating the ridiculously complicated mage society. I now knew more about the state of legal affairs within the wizard system than I’d ever wanted to. Fortunately for myself, I’d had the shifter Way Directives hammered into me from the moment I’d arrived in Cornwall from a young age so I was pretty confident that I could absorb ridiculous rules and regulations without too much bother. The best thing was that there were remarkable similarities between the mages’ system and the shifters’ one. Other than some different terminology relating to specific magic details, the rules could virtually have been written by the same person. Once I started answering the questions, I realised that I was able to block out the pain in my head and fly through the answers.
When I’d finally finished, I put down my pencil and stood up.
Looking around, I could see no sign of the little gargoyle. I was tempted for a moment just to leave my answer sheet where it was and let him pick it up when he deigned to reappear from behind whichever pile of books he happened to be hovering next to at this point in time, but I was cognizant enough to recognise that it was possible that if some other mage like Thomas, who was keen for me to fail, came across it, then it would mysteriously disappear into the ether. There was no other choice but to find Slim and put it into his purple paws in person.
The light in library had a different hue now to when I’d arrived, casting softer dapples across the floor and shelves. The growl in my stomach attested equally to the fact that I’d been here for some time, and I started to wonder what time it was and whether I was too late for lunch. There were a few mage-ly looking figures hovering in between some of the stacks, but I didn’t bother asking them for help in locating Slim. I had a pretty good idea by now how helpful I could expect them to be. I
nstead, I continued to wander up the vast corridor, peeking left and right as I went and breathing in the familiar and comforting smell of old books. My headache had returned with a vengeance now and seemed to be getting worse, throbbing more and more the further into the annals of the library that I went.
I was starting to feel the familiar heat of irritation uncoil itself in my veins when a title crammed tightly onto one of the shelves to the left of me caught my eye. My eyebrows raised in surprise
, and I reached over to pull it out. I’d been right. This edition was older than the one I’d used in John’s office all those months ago but it was definitely the same Fae-Human dictionary that I’d used to break the password and hack into his computer. Almost unconsciously, my fingers turned through the pages until I found the entry for Herensuge – the Basque definition for dragon. My chest tightened when I found it, and again I couldn’t help wondering just how much John had really known about my heritage and why he’d never told me. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. I’d never know the truth so it was pointless wondering. Snapping the dictionary closed, I leaned back to the shelf to attempt to slide it back. It was a tight fit and I was struggling to squeeze it in when someone rudely pushed past me, jolting my body against the rows of books. I inadvertently lost my balance and half tumbled to my knees, cursing. Fucking mages. At least shifters had some semblance of manners. Even Anton wouldn’t have been so crude as to get a kick out of a move like that.
I would have gone after the offending mage, promises to the
Arch-Mage be damned, but the throbbing in my skull had transformed itself into a searing pain that was making it hard to think straight. The idea that maybe I’d incurred some kind of serious injury at some point, and now had a blood clot or brain tumour invading my body flitted through my mind with the unerring whisper of every hypochondriac’s worst nightmare. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I tried to will away the pain then, when that didn’t work, I pushed my palms against the uneven surfaces of the books to try and bring myself back up to my feet. And that was when I felt it.