The Last Writer Adriane Leigh (story reading TXT) 📖

pulling at their clothes like skeleton’s fingers.

This window afforded the perfect view to watch over anyone in the garden or at the cliffs beyond.

“Look there, they’re separated and Yara is headed for the dead end with the wild thorn bushes,” Mother hummed with interest.

“They might be in there for hours looking for each other.”

Mother’s tight smile finally turned up into a grin. “Good, let them. What’s the worst that could happen?”

FIVE

Ryn

“The last writer is dead?” I laughed at Thax. “You’re insane. I’m leaving, I’ll leave my fate to the library ghosts.”

Thax caught my wrist before I walked off. “Beware, sometimes the stacks bite.”

“You’re giving me the creeps now.” I wrenched my wrist away.

He laughed. “Search for yourself, she died shortly after she left the program, and right before her book was published.”

“How?”

He shrugged. “The obituary said after a short illness but didn’t give details.”

“Hm.” I held the small cryptography book to my chest and then remembered that I still held the tiny tin lunchbox under my other arm. “Oh, I forgot, this is why I came to find you in the first place. Do you know who Zara is?”

Thax’s gaze shot to the box I held in my hand. “What’s that?”

“I found it buried in the back of my closet with some other kid things.”

He took the box from me, turning it in his hands. “Did you open it?”

“Don’t do it. Something dead is inside. It smells awful.”

He held the tin up to inspect it closely. “How old do you think this is?”

I shrugged. “As old as this book, I guess.”

“It doesn’t look like it’s been used very much.” His thumbs ran over the painted brush strokes of the letter Z. “What if I told you I think I know who Zara is?”

“Who?”

One mischievous eyebrow arched and Thax turned, waving for me to follow him. “Fiction, fiction, here we are.” He turned down a long hall and then left into a short row. “This is what you’re looking for.”

He shoved a hardcover in my hands. “Lilies in the Cellar?”

“The time has come that you read it, then we’ll talk.”

“I thought you said the program is too short for reading and sleeping.”

“For me, maybe.” He smirked. “But you didn’t do your homework.”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake—”

“Not for Heaven’s sake, for the sake of humanity. I know you’ve already read one book tonight and you seem oddly attached to that little crypto book, but do us both a favor and don’t stop reading until you finish Lilies. We’ll have a lot to talk about over breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“I’ll bring the coffee; no way am I trusting the most important meal of the day to whoever runs that kitchen.”

“And what about that?” I nodded at the Zara tin he held in one hand.

“I’ll get rid of it.”

“Well.” I flipped the pages of the crypto book open, the name Nate scrawled in jagged cursive along the top of the title page the only indication of the previous owner. “I guess I have my work cut out for me now. Reading by night and writing all day.”

“Sounds like a good life to me.”

“Really?” I laughed, tucking both books under my arm.

“I’m a loner, words and coffee are all the happiness I can handle.”

“That sounds tragic more than romantic.”

Thax shrugged, turning back to the stacks. “I need to find the local genealogy section. I’ve got two weeks and counting to find out where I came from. Or who.”

With Thax’s last word, the heavy metal stack over his shoulder creaked ominously and then swung loose of its track. It careened wildly, forcing Thax to jump sideways and haul me out of its path.

Energy tingled to life in my nerves, hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention. Thax let go of my shoulders, catching my gaze with his. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I guess the stacks really bite.”

He nodded, fully serious. “You want me to walk you back to your room? The library almost took you out on the first night.”

“No.” I shook my head, cheeks reddening with new embarrassment. “No, I’m fine, just tired.”

He nodded. “Get a little shut-eye in between chapters.” He grinned. “If you can.”

“You really know how to up the creep-factor.”

“Have you read my poetry? I’m as dark as Yara’s black heart.”

I laughed. “Maybe it runs in the family then.”

Thax grinned, blowing me a kiss before he walked backwards into the dim hallway that led him deeper into the stacks. I had no doubt that by morning Thax would report back with a wealth of spooky library treasures, I just hoped he’d find what he was looking for before anything ominous found him.

I turned, crossing the room quickly to make my way back to the stairwell. I gripped the staircase, a chill running through my veins like I’d just been zapped with white-hot electricity.

“Ow,” I hissed, pulling my hand to my chest and climbing the stairs, wondering if the wiring in this basement or any of the library was up to code. I knew electricity could hop from host to host and electromagnetic fields could alter my perception like a bad case of vertigo, but I didn’t think changes as subtle as that could have any bearing on the fact that Thax and I had nearly been decapitated by a rogue swinging library stack.

I hurried up the stairs, curling around to the next stairwell quickly as I ascended from the second to the third floor.

My heart rattled as I tucked the books closer, the sense of not being alone crawling up the back of my spine and settling like a cold ice cube at my neck.

The feeling that someone was watching grew to a fever pitch, adrenaline spiking and making my palms tingle and my eyes sting with water. Hurrying my steps, I swallowed the fear that’d crawled up the back of my throat as I crested the final stairwell and paused at the third-floor landing.

I swallowed again, my throat feeling like it was closing in as I fumbled in the pocket