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Chapter
One
I’m not what you’d call comfortable with children. Even rescuing children who are being held captive and tortured…Mother Mercy only sent me once, because I ended up terrifying and traumatizing them, but that was the old me. Now, I’m a respectable, dull, ordinary magical antiquities librarian, not an assassin of the House of Mercy. Babysitting a couple of Elven children for a few hours will be child’s play. Ha. Child’s play. Anna would have laughed. She wouldn’t have remembered five minutes later, but she would have laughed. Socially awkward, that was me. Not that there’s anything very social about me. Awkwardness, however, I have in abundance. I know how to deal with books and monsters. In that order. You care for books, and you kill monsters. Neither one of those were very social pursuits, at least not if you were doing it right.
Crayons didn’t belong on the ancient marble circular desk where it took its eminent position in the center of the antiquities library’s main floor. The colorful wax tubes were wrapped in paper, orange, indigo, and violet that reflected light beneath the elegant, glittering chandeliers. The onyx and quartz crystal quivered and sang the slightest hint of a melody when the doors opened, letting in a gust of chaos from the street outside, chaos in the form of the two children, Sarah and Robert, who shouldn’t ever step foot inside the hallowed halls of Singsong City’s most respectable depository of ancient texts. There was another library to the west, filled with any number of more mundane books, but the two children weren’t here for the books, but for their grandfather, and he’d asked me to watch them. For hours. Three to be exact.
Last week, he’d explained that the children would need to spend the morning in my care. I would have objected, because it wasn’t my job to tend someone else’s children, but I didn’t technically have a library of magic degree, and was hired on as a generic clerk, who could be fired at the slightest whim of Horace, the library’s chairman. It had taken time to earn his trust enough that he let me man the main desk, work in the shelves, take any unexpected requests for rare materials in stride, as well as set the preservation spells on the rarest magic texts themselves. I was completely capable, whether I had my degree or not, but capability didn’t equal getting a regular paycheck.
The crayons sat in a neat row on the desk while the children edged closer. Would it be too ridiculous to start juggling them? How did you entertain children for hours in a place where they weren’t allowed to touch much of anything? I’d gotten the crayons from Anna, my healer friend who had a daughter, after I’d admitted my trouble. Anna’s hobby and her career was solving problems, and the solution to my problem, what to do with an eight-year-old and a ten-year-old elves, was crayons. When I was a child, crayons wouldn’t have kept my attention for five minutes, but maybe elves were more civilized than orphans.
I smoothed the crayons and smiled at the children, trying to keep the panic out of my eyes. They could sense your fear. No, that was monsters, but what was the difference, really?
“Welcome to the Library of Antiquities. I’m Miss Morell, and I will keep you company until your grandfather is available.”
Sarah wrinkled her little nose like she’d smelled something rotten, and looked me up and down. Clearly, my simple black blouse and skirt weren’t up to her fashion standards. She wore pastel pink pants and a cardigan that set off her cream and roses complexion, fair hair in fussy ringlets around her face. Her pointed ears speared through the curls, showing her elvish pedigree almost as clearly as her disdain did.
“You’re not a nanny,” Robert said, his expression flat, disinterested in me and the world in general. “And only babies like to color with crayons. I’ve had five oil painting classes already. They say that I’m a genius when it comes to capturing light and color.”
I stared at him, not sure what to say. He didn’t want to color? What else was I supposed to do with him? If they got into some of the cursed books, or got lost in the back stacks, Horace would definitely fire me, and the children would be hurt as well. I’d prepped another backup solution to keep them occupied, but I’d hoped the crayons would work. Apparently not. Oh well. You had to be able to adapt at a moment’s notice when dealing with monsters. I mean, children.
I gave him my sunniest smile. “I’m so glad to hear that. Crayons are far too tame for those as sophisticated and advanced as the two of you. Why don’t we take a tour of the library, and then you can tell me how you would best like to spend your time?”
I put the crayons on the desk and walked briskly ahead of them. I started by leading them up the main marble stairs between the two statues, one of an angel, the other a demon, both winged and threatening.
I started in my best tour-guide voice, “As I’m sure both of you know, Singsong City was founded in those first days after the great war ended, a statement of what could be accomplished when everyone joined forces for the good of all, both those traditionally allied to the light, like your elves, and those infernal forces of darkness that preferred an alternative to eternal torment, such as goblins. Singsong City was built upon that duality, the undercity growing as rapidly as the upper. This library was built in eighteen seventy-five, and has remained resolute no matter the storm. When those threatened by the duality of the city attacked, first by a coalition of the holy sword and shield, the people of Singsong built the great wall of gold that still stands today, risen from song, magic, and the voices of every person in our city, no matter their race or belief.”
“The sculptures are lopsided,” Robert said, shaking his head sadly. “Anyway, there weren’t any actual angels or demons left on the earth after the war, just descendants. Everyone knows that the coalition of the Holy Sword and Shield had no intention of actually destroying Singsong, they just wanted to liberate the hostages in the upper city and send the other inhabitants packing to other places where they could be more comfortable, integrated with their own kind.”
Sarah made a face at the demon statue. “It’s a stupid story, also boring. How long do we have to be here?”
I held onto my smile and led them up the stairs without responding to either of them. When dealing with monsters, it was best to watch your tongue. When we reached the upper gallery, I looked up at the stained glass dome above the dozens of tables for a moment before glancing around at the few students from the city’s three universities occupying the space. They all had cards of access, and could touch any of the books on this floor as long as they didn’t try to remove them.
I nodded at a few girls who smiled shyly at me, still grateful for my help in retrieving documents on the chimera that had only recently found their way to my library. Their professor loved his mythological creatures and assigned at least one paper on the topic every semester.
“This is the study gallery, where upper-level students come to partake of the wisdom of the ancients.”
Robert sniffed. “It smells dusty.”
“There are millions of books and documents in this library, each carefully catalogued. If you were to wander on this floor unassisted, you would easily be lost for days, weeks perhaps, and then you would have nothing to eat but dust and books.” I gave them both pointed looks before turning and heading down the long aisle between two tall shelves leading to the smaller staircase on the end.
When we reached it, another pair of statues, angel and demon, guarded the way, but their wings were outstretched, so we had to go through single-file.
I took the lead, assuming that they would follow me out of boredom, if nothing else. Oh, the trauma of being forced to walk past ancient books filled with hidden and forgotten gems only waiting to be discovered if you knew how to look.
This set of stairs wound up, higher and higher, finally coming out on the top floor of the library. The small halls led to the right, to the left, and straight ahead.
“This is the top floor, where the books are cursed, forbidden, or damaged and in need of repair.” I nodded straight ahead. “That way leads to the preservation labs, where I and other members of the staff work tirelessly to undo the damage of time and mice, to restore what we can and record what we can’t. It is the most exciting part of the library, a truly noble work that will be appreciated for generations. Would you like to see? It is a rather extensive walk, but is well worth it to see the process of real and genuine preservation.” I made my voice intense and encouraging, but as expected, Sarah curled her lip and Robert sniffed and looked away.
“Preservation? Why would anyone bother to save something so boring? Isn’t there art somewhere? You’d think that a library would have at least some art, even if it’s bad. That would be better than dusty books.” At ten he was already such a great connoisseur. Somehow, I didn’t roll my eyes.
“Anything’s better than dusty books,” Sarah agreed. At least the siblings didn’t fight with each other.
“Very well. I’ll take you down to the east hall, but first, I’d like to point out that towards your right leads to the containment section, where the books are cursed, haunted, or infected with demons that will devour your soul if you so much as touch them.” I shook my finger in front of Robert’s face, then Sarah’s. “You must never go down the right hall, if you value your safety. Promise me.” I waited until Robert sighed heavily.
“We promise. Can we leave now?”
“Very well. To our left is the hall of exchange, where we store books that belong to other libraries, but are being held at the request of a patron. Some have been here for fifty years, just waiting for a patron to claim it.”
