The Library (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 1) by Casey White (surface ebook reader .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Casey White
Read book online «The Library (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 1) by Casey White (surface ebook reader .TXT) 📕». Author - Casey White
Nothing was left between Owl and the dreamer. Not anymore.
The poor thing stood hunched over, its head buried in its hands. Its fingers were splayed, quivering with tension. Owl flinched. So it was moving - it wasn’t-
The dreamer’s head snapped up.
Owl yelped, the sound disappearing into the din as the wind returned in full. His coat billowed out behind him. His hood flapped, tearing at its straps for a perilous moment before ripping free of his mask entirely. He’d pulled his black hair up into a short, messy bun that morning - that, too, vanished as the tie gave way to the wind’s call.
But the thing was looking at him, glaring with a face that was all blinding light and searing heat. In an instant, the moment passed - and the dreamer shuffled forward again, screaming wordlessly. The wind howled in response.
Do something. Owl’s hands shook. He didn’t try to pull his hood up, to tame the unruly mess of hair that flapped about his face. The heat pouring off the dreamer warmed the leather of his coat, rising with ominous intensity. Be careful, but you have to-
“Hey!” Owl screamed, taking another step forward. And then another. The leather of his gloves was long-past ‘warm’. “Hey! Come here, I’ll-”
The wind swirled, changing directions in a heartbeat. Owl tripped, overbalancing, and caught himself with a curse before he could tumble down. Falling would be very, very bad, his thoughts shrieked.
His head snapped back up, though, returning his gaze to the dreamer. The dreamers wanted guidance. This one had been without it for...for too long. A fresh wave of shame roiled through him. But he was here now, and he could give guidance, so long as-
“Hey! You!” Owl bellowed, forcing himself closer and closer. If the dreamers had names, that would make things easier. “Wait! I can help! I can- I can try!”
Something screeched overhead, something loud and angry that set his nerves to screaming along with it. His eyes darted up.
A section of the roof tumbled, ripping free of its joists and falling into open air. In his adrenaline-filled mind, the debris almost seemed to float, light as a feather as it descended. He knew it was anything but.
Owl leapt to the side with a gasp, thrusting out hard. Gold glimmered between his fingers.
The chunk of roof bounced off the barrier, landing with a crash.
Breathing hard, Owl looked back. The dreamer walked on - and with every second he delayed, it felt like the whispers filling the storm grew louder and louder.
“Hey!” Owl screamed, his throat aching with the effort of it. “Mister Dreamer! Wait! Just-”
The dreamer didn’t turn. It didn’t react at all - it just kept shambling away, still holding its head. The air around it seethed with heat. The glow underneath its skin grew brighter and brighter, until Owl could hardly look at the damn thing.
No matter what he tried, he wasn’t going to get its attention. He knew that, then. The dreamer was too far gone to respond to calls or yells. But if he didn’t do that then what? What would he-
Owl stepped closer again. And froze.
The wet squelch of his footstep still rang in his ears. Slowly, his mind a hazy blur of fog and fear, he looked down.
The glowing blue waters dripping down the walls had gathered, welling up. Puddles surrounded him and the dreamer both - puddles that grew deeper by the second.
Magic. Magic from Alexandria. He stared, motionless, pinned in place as his thoughts raced.
Alexandria was too occupied with the dreamer’s magical storm to help him. Too hurt. Too weak.
The dreamer was desperately searching for answers - answers in Alexandria’s books. In her magic.
Maybe there was another option.
Steeling himself and praying that he was right, Owl stretched his fingers toward the magical waters below. His breath caught, freezing in his chest.
He was sure of it. Alexandria was a magical creation. This storm - whatever it was - was tearing her apart in the dreamer’s need for answers. And wherever it touched, this water was all that remained.
Like Alexandria’s blood. If she was magic, it was too. It was a part of her. And if Alexandria had knowledge-
“Come on,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes to slits. “Please. Please, just-”
The waters around him shimmered, quivering. His fingers tightened. And then - there. A droplet rose out of the depths, then another. A stream of silvery, faintly-glowing liquid drifted toward his hands. It pooled into an orb, seething and pulsating with the ever-blowing wind.
Owl clenched his jaw, a vein in his head starting to throb. There. Magic. He had Alexandria’s magic. Her knowledge, if he was putting together the pieces correctly. A little slice of her. And now, all he had to do was-
Turning his eyes back to the dreamer, he took a shuddering step forward. The ball floated before him, growing larger by the second.
Another book slammed into the small of his back. Owl lurched, stifling a cry. What about the books? his thoughts screamed. Pages filled the air around the chamber, swirling on the gale-force winds. That was knowledge too. Maybe he could merge it with the magic?
Stumbling forward again, he narrowed his eyes. In that instant, the ball of magic-laced water was the center of the Library. The center of the world. It was everything.
The air around them stilled, pregnant with a tension that was entirely new. And then the crackling of paper filled the air, rising over even the whispers of the ghostly figures hiding within the storm. Pages shot out of the clouds, plunging into his steadily-growing orb of Alexandria’s water. Owl grinned reflexively, his head pounding. There. The mixture is ready. So then, if I-
The dreamer jerked away as the orb of water brushed against its arm. Owl clamped down tighter, quelling the ripples that threatened to unbalance his creation. You want knowledge, don’t you? You want answers?
He couldn’t continue forward - not when the leather of his gloves was starting to smoke and his
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