The Librarian: A Remnants of Magic Novel (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 2) Casey White (books for 6 year olds to read themselves TXT) 📖

Already, though, he scanned the rooftop. There wasn’t much to see, just the usual assortment of air conditioning units and pipework—and another ladder set on the side opposite them. He smiled, fixing the sight of it in his mind.

Before the night was out, they’d probably need an escape route like it.

“Sweet,” Olivia muttered. Daniel turned, in time to see her hurry past. Across the roof, the half-wall had collapsed into a knee-height heap of bricks and shattered mortar. “Don’t mind if I do.”

“We’re not trying to break their skulls open,” Daniel said. Another step away from the ladder, and he decided he’d gone quite far enough. Grabbing hold of the thankfully-whole half-wall, he lowered himself to the ground. “We’re just-”

“Trying to make ourselves a distraction,” Olivia said. “Right.” With every word, she loaded bricks into her arms, grunting with exertion. “A-And, we’ll be an even better distraction if we had some bricks.”

“Fine,” Daniel said. “If you insist.”

“Oh, I do.” She straightened, her arms full, and toddled back toward him. “Just...Just wait for one of t-them to start climbing that ladder. I’ll make sure they don’t forget the mistake.”

And then their friends would surge in to close the ranks. Daniel kept the thought inside, where it couldn’t sting quite so much.

The clatter of bricks against concrete screamed out like a shriek through the night. Daniel flinched, shooting a scowl at Olivia, but she’d already settled to the ground beside him. “Don’t worry,” she said with a groan. “I’ve got your back. I know you’re probably missing blondie there, but you don’t have to worry one bit.”

Daniel leaned back, resting his head against the brick wall, and stared out into the night. Olivia’s leg pressed against his, a barrier of heat against the cold.

“Why?” he said at last.

She didn’t pull away, but he felt her sag. “Why what?”

“Why did you come with me?” His fingers dragged across the bandages wrapping his leg, trying in vain to work the knotted muscles loose. “You have to know this isn’t going to work.”

“Ah,” Olivia whispered. “That.”

She fell quiet. The low hum of the air handlers around them rose, filling the night air with softness.

And then she shifted, and he felt her head rest against his shoulder. “Well, why are you? If you know that much.”

“Because this has to end,” Daniel said. He didn’t bother pulling away. Even a few days before, the thought of her sitting here pressed against him would have been infuriating. Repulsive. Now...Now, he was too tired. Too far past such trivial angers. “They’re never going to stop. They’ll keep coming. So I can’t just...I can’t just run away.”

“Yeah.”

“And…” He chuckled sourly. “If it’s going to be a fight, I’d rather their eyes were on me than...than the others.”

“On blondie.”

“Or any of them.” He shook his head, still staring up into the bleak clouds. “They’ll be down there fighting, and I...I can’t even help. This is all I can do.”

“That’s how I feel about it too,” Olivia said. Her side shook with every word, and he felt her shift, pressing closer. “I owe you this much. For starting things. For being…” She drifted to a stop, and turned her face away from him. “If I can help a little, then... maybe the rest is okay, too.”

She was shaking, ever so slightly. Daniel sighed. “Idiot,” he whispered. Slowly, his limbs stiff, he slid his arm around her shoulders to tug her closer.

“Thanks,” Olivia mumbled.

He smiled, but let the quiet stand. Every so often a car would drift past along the distant freeway, breaking the silence with its rumble. And every time he heard their engines, he felt himself stiffen, only relaxing when it passed.

“I really am sorry, you know.”

Daniel lifted his gaze from the patch of concrete in front of them. “What?”

Olivia shifted. Her cheek pressed into his shoulder. “About back then. What happened.”

“Oh.” He stared ahead, his expression wooden. “Don’t lie to me. Not now, after all this.”

“I’m not.”

“Olivia-”

“I wish things had been different,” she whispered. “I wish I hadn’t...that I’d…”

“We’re a bit past that now,” Daniel said.

“I know.” He felt her laugh, even though the sound was inaudible. “And...I wouldn’t have regretted...that. With you. But not like that.” She pressed a hand to her face, shaking her head. “I was such an idiot.”

“Little bit. Yep.”

She kicked his ankle. He chuckled, biting back a wince, and she slowly relaxed.

“I’m not sorry I did it, Owl,” she said, letting her head fall against his shoulder again. “But I’m sorry about the why.”

Daniel just...nodded. Everything else had been said.

He knew she wasn’t lying, not about what mattered. There was no point to that anymore. He still couldn’t quite bring himself to forgive her—but neither could he bring himself to care, with the cold wrapped in tight around them and his terrified pulse racing away the seconds.

They were a long way from that warm, sunny day in Alexandria’s gardens. Maybe it was time they left that behind.

“Daniel,” he whispered. “It’s Daniel.”

Olivia stiffened—and her hand brushed his knee, just for a moment. “Daniel.”

He smiled. There. The cat was finally well-and-truly out of the bag. He found he didn’t mind so much.

Huddled against the night, they waited. Daniel’s eyelids drooped lower.

Somewhere out there, Leon and the others were waiting, too. Sitting together in a car, waiting for the call that trouble had arrived. They’d be warm and mostly-hidden, whispering to each other.

They’d be fine. All of them. All they had to do was stick to the plan.

Something inside Daniel’s gut prickled. A warmth.

No, not a warmth. A warning. It spread through his senses, until his ears strained and the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight on end. Daniel raised himself, easing away from the half-wall around the rooftop.

“Daniel?” Under the blanket of surprise in her voice, he could make out the first whispers of fear.

“Quiet,” he whispered. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted himself far enough to peer over the edge.

Nothing—just darkness and black streets, shadowy buildings with