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

other, their heads swiveling back and forth.  “Well, what do you want me to do about it?” he heard one of them whisper.

“I-I don’t know.  But this place is creepy.  Let’s find the guy and get out of here.  Fast.”

Owl’s eyes stayed glued to them.  He raised a hand, fingers clenched.

They’d charged in here, hellbent on beating him into submission.  On taking Alexandria and using her how they pleased.  And now that they were here, in his domain, no one could fault him for wiping them from existence.

“No,” a woman sighed.  “Good try, kid, but it doesn’t work like that.”

Owl spun, eyes going wide.  The study behind him was empty—as he’d expected.

“They’re still guests,” he heard her say, her voice softer.  “Even if they’re unwelcome ones.  They’re still owed…”  She chuckled.  “Our hospitality, I suppose.  See to them, will you?”

A hand dropped to his shoulder, just the faintest hint of pressure—and then it was gone.

Owl stared out into the wings, unable to move.  His chest rose and fell, but his mind raced.

Because he knew that voice, somewhere in the deepest, darkest crevices of his memories.  But...it was impossible.  It couldn’t possibly-

“Come on!” he heard one of the invading pair hiss, and he spun back around.

“Damn it,” he whispered, his eyes prickling.  He’d...He’d figure it out...after.  Once this was all done.  Collecting himself, he lunged out from behind cover toward-

Toward the two figures who were now hurrying down the hall.  He gritted his teeth, holding an image in his mind.  Bars, rising from the floor.  Pinning them in.

The ground beneath the intruders rippled, wobbling ominously.  One stumbled, casting a wide-eyed stare down at it.  “W-What the-”

“It’s him!” the second cried, grabbing hold of his friend and hauling hard.

Bars shot up, but the pair stumbled away.  The cool, smooth metal met only empty air.  Owl cursed under his breath, lurching forward awkwardly.  With his leg heavy and stuff underneath him, he’d never catch them if they ran.

His eyes snapped to the one lagging behind.  “You,” he breathed.  “I can at least get one of you.”

Quick as could be, Owl brought his hands up again, thumb and forefingers pinched.  Fixing his gaze to the empty air before them, he squeezed, ripping his hands apart.

Stones groaned, deafening.  The man out front swore loudly, the words swallowed up by the Library, and leaped over a rapidly-rising, knee-height brick wall.

His friend was just a hair slower—and by the time his feet left the ground, he was left to smack hopelessly into the now waist-high barrier.

Owl didn’t put the opportunity to waste.  Before the intruder could react, he flicked his finger into an untidy box.  The brick wall exploded from either side, careening around the still-prone man with a mind of its own.

And then there was just a brick cube, smack dab in the middle of the shelves, and a distant figure fleeing deeper into the wings.

Someone pounded on the inside of the cube.  “Hey!” Owl heard the intruder cry.  “Hey- Paul! Come back!”

“Stop yelling,” Owl snapped.  “Sit there and think about what you’ve done.”

He stalked forward, his eyes glued to the man bolting deeper into Alexandria, pausing only long enough to kick the newly-created wall.

“Please!” the person inside screamed.  “Y-You can’t do this!  Let me-”

A flicker of light, of motion—that was all.  Owl whirled, bringing his hands up.

The blast of magic that slammed into him was ill-formed, little more than a fuzzy ball of white light.  He shrugged it off, sidestepping.  The windows alongside him glimmered with dancing reflections.

His new captive’s friend.  He stood in the arch of a doorway, his face beet red.  He swung his hands in circles, as though mimicking the wizards he’d seen in movies.  And...Owl groaned.  Absurd though it was, light was starting to flicker around his hands again.

“Stop that,” he snapped, clenching one hand.  The stone beneath the man’s feet warped, grabbing at his ankles.

The intruder only skittered back with a startled cry, throwing his hands toward Owl.  Another burst of light sailed for Owl’s head.  It crackled, curling in on itself with violent energy, a different beast from the fuzzy, incoherent mess of moments before.

This time, Owl was ready, and the glowing orb smacked harmlessly into a plane of solidified light, dissipating like smoke.  But...he eyed the wisps as it faded, frowning.  It was hard to tell, through the filter of magic, but the impact of it had been stronger against his shield.

His opponent was learning.  Just like Leon’s first foray into magic, part of the trick to magic inside Alexandria was belief.  You had to know that your spells would work, that you wouldn’t just stand there like an idiot waving your arms around.  The first time was hard.  After that, though?  When you’d seen what you could do with your own eyes?

This intruder was still a novice—but Owl needed to end this before he could become more than that.

Owl advanced. His numb leg dragged awkwardly behind him, but his eyes fixed on the lonely figure.  One hand raised, he twisted it in a circle, jabbing his fingers at the man.  Water poured from his gloved palm, flying through the air to crash down to the stone.

White sheets of fog poured from the ground where it touched.  Frost glistened from the water’s surface, climbing the walls.  The man’s eyes widened.  Quick as could be, he grabbed the shelf alongside him, hauling himself off the ground.

“Come on,” Owl muttered, stalking closer.  With his other hand, he thrust a finger toward the plush rugs lining the wings.  They shredded, coming apart like tissue paper, and reformed into red-gold ropes.

Caught halfway up a bookshelf, the intruder had nowhere to run.  The ropes lashed around him, twining tighter and tighter.  He fell with a cry that turned to a groan as he slammed into the water-covered ground.  It lapped at him eagerly, freezing to his clothing before he could pull away.

“Okay,” Owl said, grinning in victory.  Again, he traced a square in the air, holding that same image of a brick-lined