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Brooks croaked, “Yeah, me too,” as she headed toward the temple.
Rosie greeted us with a big yawn at the entrance. I didn’t see Hondo or Ren anywhere.
“Are we supposed to wait for the others?” I asked.
Brooks shrugged and fixed her gaze on the symbols carved into the lintel. “‘The words before all words,’” she read aloud.
Trails of smoke curled from Rosie’s nose as I peered into the shadowy doorway. Garbled whispers floated out on a cold draft.
“What are those voices?” I asked.
“Maybe library ghosts?”
“Maybe we shouldn’t go in,” I said. Rosie whined her agreement. For being such a huge, ferocious hellhound, she sometimes still had a scaredy-cat heart. Like me.
“Ghosts can’t hurt you,” Brooks argued.
“How do you know?”
“I don’t.” Brooks grabbed my arm and pulled me into the whispering darkness.
Dim lights flicked on overhead, casting shadows against the chipped blue stone walls.
The air smelled like old cigars and dark chocolate. Rosie stalked next to me, sniffing and leaving trails of smoke.
The whispers seemed to lessen with each step we took down the winding hall. A minute later, the space opened into a massive tri-level room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves encased in glass.
The domed ceiling reminded me of a church, except this one’s stained-glass windows were melded with shimmering gold. At the center of the room was a 3-D holographic orb, glowing blue as it spun in midair.
“This is amazing!” I walked past rows of roughly hewn wooden tables to get a better look.
“Kinda gives me the creeps.” Brooks rubbed her arms vigorously. “All these books and pages and…” She paused before adding, “Dead writers.”
“Did you have to put it that way?” I asked, still taking it all in. When I’d gone to regular school, the library was always my favorite place. It smelled good and had too many stories to count. But this library blew the doors off anything I’d ever seen. “It feels like a cathedral for books.” My voice echoed across the chamber.
“Or a mausoleum,” Hondo said as he entered from another doorway, a steaming paper cup in one hand and a small book in the other. He was sporting his regular jeans and a SHIHOM tee embroidered with his name: HORRENDOUS HONDO, STAFF.
Ren was right behind him, cupping what smelled like cocoa. “You guys, there’s a hot chocolate machine back there,” she said. “Actually, it’s an anything chocolate machine. You just tell it what you want, and presto”—she snapped her fingers—“it spits it out. And it’s the best-tasting chocolate you’ve ever had. I bet it’s Ixkakaw’s recipe.”
Hondo bit back a laugh. “You can even try one of your own candy bars, Diablo.”
Rosie licked her chops and whined like just the word chocolate made her crave a snake head or two.
Brooks said, “I could use a chocolate iced donut. Zane?”
I nodded as she called Rosie over and headed out of view.
“Dogs can’t have chocolate!” I shouted.
“She’s a hellhound!” Brooks hollered back. “She can have whatever she wants.”
“And check this out.” Ren pointed to the globe, hurrying over to it. She reached out a finger, and the second she touched it, the glowing blue orb zipped away to a corner of the library.
“I said no touching,” a woman’s voice said.
What the…?
Ren said, “Sorry. I forgot. You’re just so cool.”
