The Library (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 1) Casey White (classic books for 13 year olds txt) 📖

in.  The boy’s eyes were starting to well with tears, pools of diamonds that glittered down in the half light.  “It’s okay,” he said, grabbing the dreamer’s hand again.  “We’ll find it.”

“He was there, and I looked away for a second, a-and,” the boy burbled, lifting a hand to wipe at his nose.  “Mommy won’t tell me.  She just says he’s...he’s staying with friends.  But I don’t...I don’t think he’s-”

“Don’t worry,” Owl repeated, clinging to the words and repeating them over and over.  “It’s okay.  I’ll help you look.”

He led the boy from the room, moving on autopilot as they trudged out into the hallway.  Alexandria seemed smaller than usual today, offering them warm, cozy wooden walls rather than the sweeping, grand stone arches she usually preferred.  He giggled quietly, scuffing a boot against the floor.  Because of the dreamer?  Was she trying to comfort him?

Still, the hush filling the air sent a shiver of unease down Owl’s spine.  It was always quiet in the Library - Crow liked it that way - but it’d been more pointed than ever in the two weeks since Indira and Adrian had knocked on their door.

The other guests had heard odd noises, yes.  They’d asked about gusts of wind and the distant sound of glass breaking.  But none had seemed terribly worried, and had shrugged the whole incident off quickly enough.

Crow, however...

Owl made a face, his head hanging a little lower as he pulled the dreamer onward.  Jean had been even quieter than usual.  She’d left him to see to the visitors almost entirely by himself, barricading herself in her quarters for hours at a stretch.  The few times he’d poked his head in, desperate for some sort of contact with his teacher, he’d found her sitting at her desk - her desk that’ been piled high with journals.

She’d waved him off with a smile and a laugh, but something about the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“...Hey,” the dreamer said, his voice wavering.

Owl bit back another groan.  At least with all of their guests depending on him, he didn’t have to worry about getting bored.  “We’re almost there,” he said, quickening his steps.  “Just a little more.  I’m sure of it.”

His eyes lifted, dancing across the elegant wood-paneled walls.  If you have anything to give him, now’s the time.  I don’t know how much longer I can-

Wind rustled through his hair.  A pair of candles flickered from farther down the hallway.

Owl grinned, elation running through him.  The candles framed a door - a goal.  “Come on,” he said, tugging the boy on faster.  “How about in here?  Let’s look.”

The dreamer made a tiny, sad noise, but followed.

Owl burst through the room, his impatience building.  A gallery stood before them, the walls lined with paintings.  Stack after stack of manuals and guides sat in heaps around the edges of the room.

“Ah!” the boy cried.  His fingers slipped free of Owl’s.

Owl slowed, coming to a stop as the dreamer sprang forward, dashing toward one of the paintings.  A dog, he noted, big and black with a tongue that lolled out happily.

In the dim haze of the Library, from a distance, the colors almost seemed to blur together, moving.  He would have sworn he could see the painting move, the dog’s sides lifting and falling as though-

He tore his gaze from the painting as the dreamer exploded into light.  There.  All done.  He still couldn’t quite comprehend how the Library worked, or what exactly the dreamers found in their searches, but...they seemed satisfied.  That was good enough for him.

Lifting his booted feet from the ground, he took a step back.  Another.  The door pressed against his back, giving way as he pushed.

And then Owl was off, hurrying through the hallways with his hands in the largest pocket of his sturdy overcoat.

He’d need to check back with the other guests, first off.  The dreamer had been unexpected, like they always were.  And this one had been more stubborn than the others he’d run across.  Knowing his luck, when he went back to resume helping, the others would have-

The door to the study creaked open under his hands, and he froze.

“I know this isn’t what you planned on,” Crow said.  She stood at the head of the study, straight-backed and collected.  The scholars stood in clusters before her, just a smattering of pairs that watched with rapt attention.  Marv’s mouth hung open in what looked like shock.

“But, rest assured,” Crow said, holding up a hand as one of the men in front took a step forward.  “I have no intentions of taking away your rightfully-granted visit time.  Your library cards will properly reflect your shortened stay within our walls.”

Owl rocked back on his heels, feeling like she’d struck him.  Crow was...sending people home?  But they’d just spoken to Indira and Adrian a few weeks ago.  She’d said-

He blinked.  A few weeks.  And in the meantime...His eyes lidded shut, his mind picturing the clock that hung over the sitting room’s mantle.

The next quarter had been due to end on the morrow - the next stamp-length of visitation.  There’d only been a single scholar leaving, so he hadn’t...

Crow stepped away from the group, leaving their complaints and pleas to fall against the empty air.  He surged forward, but stopped.  Something about her posture, the rigid way she moved...It was as though she was wound up like a spring, poised to burst at any moment.

Something was wrong.

He opened his mouth, ready to call her name and charge after her, but a cry of “Librarian!” from the group brought him around.

The guests turned as one, their eyes glued to him.  A half-dozen pairs of hands waved for his attention, a half-dozen voices cried for his aid.  He smiled sourly, fighting the instinct to run as they bore down on him.

Before they made it that far, though, he glanced to Crow, readying another cry - and stopped.

She’d already reached the door, her steps slow and pained.  As he watched, confused, she pushed