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It smells different down here.
Stale, but free of the male funk. And eerily silent, unlike the rest of the mountain that was full of the sounds of the tribe that lived within it, along with the machinery that modernized it. There was only the slightest buzz of electricity feeding the low lighting.
With a quick glance down each of the rows of shelves, Marli moved on down to the next level, repeating her actions. The stairs ended at the third level, which was also lit.
Drawing a deep breath, the space smelled of ancient books and documents with the slightest of earthy tinges. The scent of male dragon was undetectable here. What was detectable was the scent of female dragon—but not completely dragon. The dragon scent had a different flavor than anything Marli had scented before.
The fine hairs on her nape rose. She wiggled her tingling fingers, claws ready to extend in a blink.
Light illuminated the rear walls and ceiling of the back corner.
Sticking to an outer wall, she crept her way around the perimeter of the archive, ears strained for any sound, eyes sharp for movement.
Breath held, she eased forward to peer around the edge of the last bank of shelves.
She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what she saw.
Shirtless, the librarian stood by a work bench loaded with vials, grinding equipment, bottles of liquids and a bowl of dragon detritus.
A female?
What the fuck is going on?
She appeared to be scrubbing her hands with the shirt she’d been wearing in the elevator. Her breasts were bare.
Marli watched as she withdrew another shirt from a nearby satchel and pulled it over her head. Next she placed a bound book on the table, grabbed a pen from its surface and began writing with quick, urgent movements.
Marli’s brain sped through twists and turns to comprehend what she witnessed. What this meant.
A female, hidden among the males.
They both froze at the sound of Eamerson’s voice. “Hello?”
“Damnation.” The librarian muttered, tapped the pen on the table for a moment, finally slamming the book closed, the pen atop it.
Marli ducked back into the shadows as the librarian spun around, drew a breath, eyes closed as though to calm herself. The peaks of her breasts reduced into her chest so that her shirt lay flat. Her jaw sharped, and shoulders widened. She winced when her hips narrowed. With a huff, the librarian opened his eyes and hurried toward the stairs.
Breath held, heart pounding, processing what she had just observed. They thought they had a shape shifter of some kind. She couldn’t have imagined a kind such as this one. Not really.
Figure it out later, Marli.
As soon as his—her—footsteps sounded up the stairs, Marli lunged forward to peruse the workbench. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she snapped photos of everything. Flipping the book open, she hesitated. “Dragonsdammit!” she hissed between her teeth.
An experiment ledger! Dates, identities, goals.
Should I take it? No, that would tip her off.
Instead, she snapped pictures of the ledger’s entries, working backward several pages, then jumped all the way to the front to work forward. Setting it aside, she investigated the rest of the room, which was full of supplies for a librarian to do their normal job.
Just as a voice echoed down from the upper level, Marli noticed a heavy wooden door at the back of the room. A quick try of the handle confirmed it was locked. The lock itself looked similar to that set in the closet’s mirrored wall, made of brass instead of gold.
Not having seen the tunnel doors for herself, she took pictures and made a mental note to ask Sten about them.
“The archival box I’m looking for should be in the earliest section,” Eamerson explained.
“And you think it’s down here?” the librarian sounded sceptical.
“I stored it down here myself,” Eamerson didn’t hide his annoyance at the challenge. “A correspondence series in aisle three, bay five.”
