The world swam back slowly. Her hearing first.
"If you've killed her, your punishment will be slow." The voice was deep and cultured, careful and clipped, that of a man who'd studied words for a long time.
"Oh, she's fine. She healed herself the moment the javelin hit her."
"Javelin? My standing orders are non-lethal. I need them alive. Especially this one."
Elmira scoffed. "What's so special about her? She's an orphan from a backwater, nothing-plane that barely has any mana."
Her feeling came next. Her whole body was alive with pain, but she couldn't move, couldn't cry out, couldn't react.
"Even if I explained it to you, you wouldn't understand. All you understand is pain and fire."
Elmira made a sound, somewhere between a sneer and a pout. "I thought you liked that about me."
The voices faded away.
Her vision came next. She blinked when she realized she could see beige fabric paneling on the ceiling. One of the panels was of textured glass through which shone a soft white light, filling the room. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes to the hair just above her ears. Her peripheral vision eased into sight and she saw the back of a couch she must be laying on at her right and the top of a bookshelf on her left.
The pain eased, like draining from a bucket with only a pinprick in the bottom. And with it, coherent thought returned. She sat up gingerly, expecting every movement to hurt, but it didn't. She took stock. Her robe had a large charred hole in it, exposing most of her midriff. The skin there was pink and shiny. She sat upon a comfortable, beige-upholstered couch in a small room made of bookshelves.
"Ah, you're awake." It was the careful, cultured voice she'd heard before.
Dor stood and spun about.
A man stood at the entrance to the room, clad in grey slacks and a beige button up shirt with the collar undone and sleeves rolled up. He had a well-groomed beard with a bit of white just below his lip, a pair of academic-looking spectacles, and long brown hair pulled into a ponytail. He held a small stack of clothes and smiled at her innocuously.
"Who are you? Where's Elmira?"
"To answer the second first, Ms. Gulch is off on an assignment. I assure you, you have nothing to fear from her, or anyone else, here. As to the first, my name is Silas Quillon, and I'm the librarian."
His voice put her at ease, but Dor kept her guard up. If he was Elmira's master, she didn't want anything to do with him.
"I see Elmira burned your clothing. I brought you some." He came into the room and set the clothing on a small table by the couch. "The circulation desk is just through there and to your left," he said, gesturing at the entrance. "That's where I'll be when you're ready to talk."
After he left, all Dor could hear was a faint hiss of air.
Dor went to the entrance to the little room. There was no physical door, just way though the bookshelves, either side of which was labeled with a series of numbers. She peeked around the way Mr. Quillon had gestured and found a long, curved hallway of bookshelves filled with books, tagged low on their spines, all neatly shelved. Every once in a while the shelves were broken with another doorway. Several doorways on, the hallway opened into a larger room she could barely make out around the curve of the hallway but most of which was hidden.
Dor turned back to the stack of clothes Mr. Quillon had brought and examined them. A beige button up shirt and matching pleated skirt; a pair of beige, ankle high stockings and slip on shoes; a beige brassier and matching high-cut drawers, much like Kya had worn, but with a stretchy waistband. All the clothes were sized for her. She wondered how Mr. Quillon knew what size clothes to give her. The thought made her skin crawl. She didn't want to put them on, but even more she didn't want to continue wearing the burned robe.
Peeking up and down the hallway again to make sure no one was coming, Dor pulled off the ruined robe, folded it neatly as she could, and pulled on the clothes she'd been provided. They were a perfect fit and comfortable. She picked up the robe and looked again down the curving hallway of bookshelves.
Dor considered fleeing the other way, but she had no idea where she was or how to get anywhere else and felt fairly certain if she tried to planeswalk, she'd end up somewhere else entirely new. Besides, this was an opportunity to find out why Elmira had pursued her. For all she didn't trust him, Mr. Quillon was, so far, much more kind and reasonable than Elmira Gulch. Maybe she could learn something from him.
Steeling herself, Dor walked the way Mr. Quillon had indicated, passing more nooks with identical couches and end tables, until she came into a large, circular room. This room was filled with couches, end tables, desks, and chairs, all neatly arranged, spaciously organized. From the room ran twelve hallways like the one she'd emerged from, equidistant from each other. At the center of the room was a circular desk, hollow in the middle
Mr. Quillon sat at the inside of the desk, a thin tablet propped up in front of him. He looked up as she approached, and smiled benignly.
"Thank you for coming, Dorothy." He stood up and put a black basket with a sort of lining she didn't recognize on the desk. "You may dispose of that unfortunate garment here."
Dor wasn't inclined to keep the robe now it was ruined, but it had been given to her by Minwu, and she didn't like the idea of giving it to Mr. Quillon. Even so, she swallowed her trepidation and threw it away. Mr. Quillon put the wastebasket back under the desk.
"Now. I'm sure you'll have many questions for me."
Dor nodded.
Mr. Quillon gestured behind her as he sat. Dor turned to look and found a chair at a nearby desk. She pulled it up to the circular desk and sat across from him. He steepeld his fingers and looked at her patiently.
Dor cleared her throat. "Why did you send Elmira after me?"
Mr. Quillon frowned, and Dor kept herself from shrinking back.
"Ms. Gulch is new to my organization. I thought I could teach her to control her impulses. I fear I was incorrect. I am sorry for what she did to you. But, to answer your question, I send my agents through the multiverse to find young people whose planeswalker spark is about to ignite. Sometimes my calculations are off and their sparks do not ignite and my agents come back alone. But usually I am correct, the target does spark, and when they end up someplace wildly new and different, they are grateful when my agents find them and explain to them the nature of planeswalking and of the multiverse."
"You sent Elmira to help me?"
"I'm afraid the choice of Ms. Gulch was an error on my part. I assure you, it will not happen again."
Dor nodded. She wasn't sure she believed him, but talking with Mr. Quillon put her at ease. "I have another question."
He nodded. "Of course."
"How do you know my name? How did you find me?"
Mr. Quillon smiled, pride evident. He picked up the tablet propped on his desk, tapped at it, then brushed his finger across it with a dramatic flair. Colored lights sprang from the tablet to the air and Dor reacted by springing to her feet and taking a defensive stance. She needn't have worried. The light formed itself into a three-dimensional map.
"I have created a spell that trawls the multiverse and a second spell that recognizes a lifeform with the spark for planeswalking and a third spell that calculates how likely that person is to have their spark ignite. This is the result."
Dor stared at the slowly rotating map of lights. Most of them were a pale, off white, almost pink, but some pulsed with one color or another. None of it meant anything to her.
"Here, allow me to demonstrate." Mr. Quillon tapped at his tablet and the map shifted, then narrowed upon a single point of light, pulsing yellow, that grew bigger as though rushing toward them. When the sphere of light would have grown too large for the space, it turned translucent, like looking through a window. The image showed them a top-down view of a neighborhood of houses.
Dor felt a faint sense of vertigo.
"Yes, here we are, a version of your world, Earth. There are more versions of Earth than any other plane of existence in all the multiverse. Most of them have some form of supernatural activity: magic, psionics, metahumans or the like. This one is known for its monsters."
The window lowered slowly as Mr. Quillon spoke, focusing on a particular house and its backyard. Soon Dor saw a girl cavorting in the grass, playing some game by herself. Dor wondered if Mr. Quillon had observed her like this. She shivered.
"Even now, the various world governments of this Earth are developing the robots they'll need to battle the monsters. In the meantime my spells have found Marnie Kim, an eleven-year-old girl. She has the spark and lives in a fairly dangerous world."
"Wait," said Dor. "This is a version of Earth? Do I exist on this Earth? Do my parents?"
"Ah. Clever. Very good. Unfortunately, no. This Earth is in the year twenty thirty-five. It could be there was a version of you and your parents and that there are birth records. Some Earths are parallel as opposed to alternate. My guess, though, is there isn't. We can look later if you'd like."
Dor considered. Now she had the potential opportunity, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. What if her parents turned out to be awful people?
"Maybe later." She turned back to the window.
"Very well." Mr. Quillon returned to his explanation. "The closer a person with the potential is to becoming a planeswalker, the further along the spectrum the lights glow: red at unlikely, purple at highly likely. You were blue leaning to purple when I sent Elmira." Mr. Quillon tapped at his tablet and the vision faded.
Dor turned back to Mr. Quillon. "I have one more question. Now I'm here, what do you intend to do with me?"
Mr. Quillon smiled his bland smile. "Well, Dorothy, I suppose that is up to you. Some of the young planeswalkers I assist choose to work with me on some of my acquisition projects."
"Acquisitions?"
"Items. Come. I will show you." He stood and walked to a section of counter that he lifted on cleverly hidden hinges, allowing her to enter the circle. At the center of the circle was a railing and a set of stairs spiraling down.
Mr. Quillon gestured for her to go first and though it made her shiver to have him at her back, she began down the stairs. She found herself in a large, circular room to the match the one above. Instead of couches and desks, there were display cases. She put her hands behind her back carefully, remembering Twilight Sparkle's warning about magical items, and approached one of the display cases.
The case had a thick, wooden base smoothly polished and finely detailed in whorls and patterns. It was topped with a glass cover several inches tall and held together with metal bindings at the corners. Within the case were six brightly colored boxes: from left to right they were blue, pink, red, green, yellow, and black. Upon a velvet cushion within each was a golden coin. Embossed upon each coin was the bust of an animal. Two of them she recognized, the elephant and the great cat. The rest were strange beasts of mythology she'd not read.
"The six power coins," said Mr. Quillon, his voice taking on a professorial tone. "Supposedly destroyed by Rito Revolto in Angel Grove in nineteen ninty-six. The thing about power coins, though, is, given time, they will rebuild themselves. At least, according to some theories."
Dor turned. Mr. Quillon was closer than she'd thought and she took a few steps to the side.
"It seems the theories are correct," said Dor
Mr. Quillon smiled and nodded. "Sometimes." He gestured to his left, at another display case. "You enjoy reading. I'm sure you've heard of Excalibur."
Dor's eyebrows shot up. "The sword of King Arthur?"
"Many think the sword in the stone was Excalibur."
"But that's the one that proved he was king," Dor said. "It was a different sword." She hurried to the display case he'd indicated. Under the glass, upon a bed of samite, lay a long-handled great sword. It was smooth and polished, gleaming in the light of the room.
"Precisely, very good. Though, it should be noted, some versions of the story conflate the two."
"How did you get it?" Dor asked. "You said there are multiple versions of Earth. Does King Arthur exist on one of them? Are there multiple versions of King Arthur?"
Mr. Quillon nodded. "Yes and yes. Very good, Ms. Dorothy. I knew you'd impress me."
Dor blushed, pleased despite herself.
"The multiverse contains every universe. Sometimes that includes multiple multiverses. Sub-multiverses if you like. Some versions of Earth are parallel. That is, they contain largely the same history and the same people. Some versions are alternate, a major event will have come out differently like Napoleon uniting all of Eurasia, or the Nazis winning World War II, or the moon having never been destroyed."
Dor bit her tongue on her questions.
"So some versions, most in fact, have some version of King Arthur. In most versions, Excalibur is returned to the Lady of the Lake upon King Arthur's death. In one of those versions, I convinced that rueful nymph to loan me Excalibur."
"And she let you?"
"I can be extraordinarily convincing." Mr. Quillon gestured at another display case. It was empty. "This is the one I'd meant for Ravenclaw's Diadem."
Dor looked at him, eyes going wide. "Is it silver with a big blue stone?"
"That's the one."
"I've seen it," said Dor. "It was in the Everfree Forest, on Equestria."
"I thought as much."
"How did you know?"
"As I said, your light was blue to purple, which meant I was keeping an eye on you. At the same time, I was researching one of my acquisitions, which is vastly different from how I research potential planeswalkers. For that, I use the Infinite Library. Every story ever written, every story that will be written, every version of every story, can be found, somewhere, in the Infinite Library.
"To give you an example: Mr. Harry Potter. Harry Potter was born on a version of Earth on July 31st, 1980. Soon thereafter he was marked for death by the dark wizard Voldemort. But, when Voldemort tried to kill him, the spell backfired, inadvertently turning baby Potter into a horcrux. A horcrux is much like a lich's phylactery, it holds a piece of a being's soul and so long as that piece of soul is alive, so is the being."
"That sounds dreadful," said Dor.
"Oh, it is. I won't tell you how it ends in case you decide you want to read it. Pertinent to this discussion is the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the founders of Hogwarts School of Wizardry. Voldemort stole the artifact from Hogwarts and turned it into a horcrux. Harry Potter, in his quest to defeat Voldemort, had to find and destroy all the horcruxes. But the diadem was not created to be a horcrux; it had a different intended purpose, granting its wearer enhanced wisdom. As an academic, I, of course, am interested in such an item.
"But I couldn't simply send one of my agents to Hogwarts to take it before Voldemort could turn it into a horcurx. Can you think of why?"
Dor considered. "Well... You learned about the diadem in a book about Mr. Potter. Right?"
Mr. Quillon nodded.
"And in the book, the diadem played an important part. But if you take the diadem before it can become part of the story..." Dor hesitated, uncertain.
"Go on."
"If you take it before it becomes part of the story, maybe it doesn't end up in the story at all and you never read about it. But if you never read about it then you can't acquire it. But if you don't acquire it, then it remains in the story. So..."
Mr. Quillon clapped his hands together happily. "Thus, a paradox. The Infinite Library detests a paradox. One of the fundamental rules of utilizing it is not to disrupt causality. Fortunately there are parallel universes.
"The Harry Potter series was written by J.K. Rowling, and those seven books are considered the Prime Universe of the Wizarding World. The films based on the books are considered Prime Beta. After that are the secondary universes, the video games and stage plays and whatnot. Tertiary universes are those based upon fan works. The closer a fan work is to the Prime Canon, the more stable it is. My aim is to find a universe that's stable, but not too stable. The Infinite Library is much more forgiving of potential paradox in fan fiction.
"It took some doing, but I found a tertiary universe focused on Rowena Ravenclaw, hundreds of years before Harry Potter was to be born, in which her diadem would never be found by Voldemort because the Grey Lady never told him about it. And so, after Ravenclaw's daughter stole and hid the diadem in a hollow tree in an Albanian forest, it's free to be acquired. Thank Dominia for fan fiction."
"So, why didn't you?"
"That's where you come in, Ms. Dorothy. I was keeping an eye on you at the same time I was finding this particular version of that Albanian forest. Then your spark ignited and there was a..." he shrugged with one hand, "A glitch, I suppose. And that portion of the Albanian forest planeshifted into the Everfree Forest for you and Twilight Sparkle to find. I must admit, I was very put out with you, young lady." His tone grew stern as he explained.
Dor felt her backside tingle apprehensively.
Mr. Quillon sighed. "Don't worry. I'm not going to spank you an accident that wasn't your fault. I do, however, to answer your question, have a request."
Dor grit her teeth and nodded. She didn't want to help Mr. Quillon collect magical artifacts, but here, in his library, she didn't feel she was in a position to defy him. Her skin tingled nervously.
"Research Ravenclaw's diadem. Not much is said of it in the books, only what's necessary to the plot. But if you can go to the source and gather as much research about the item as you can, then perhaps I can find another tertiary universe to exploit."
"The source?"
"The Prime Universe of the Wizarding World," Mr. Quillon expounded.
"What about the Infinite Library and paradoxes?"
Mr. Quillon waved his hand dismissively. "You won't need to worry about that. I'll send you to after the Wizarding War. It's a quiet few years by all accounts. There'll be no causality to disrupt. There will, however, be some preparation needed..." He trailed off as his thoughts caught up to him.
Dor waited patiently, but his gaze was fixed somewhere far off.
"Mr. Quillon? Should I... um..."
He frowned at her before putting on his bland smiled. "You'll need a place to stay while I write a suitable letter. Come on, up you get," he gestured at the staircase.
Dor went up the spiral stairs deciding as she went that she would not point out she hadn't agreed to do as he asked. She felt vulnerable here, in his library, in the clothes he had given her. She didn't want to do anything to incite his ire. He hadn't done anything to suggest he might hurt her, but there was that overheard conversation as she'd woken on the couch. She felt he was putting on an act for her.
Mr. Quillon led her down one of the twelve curved hallways off the large circular room, indistinguishable from any of the others as far as she could tell, until they came to a sharp left turn and up another set of stairs.
At the top of the stairs was a common room with a hall leading off from the left. There were three couches, the same she'd seen in every reading nook, and a low, flat table. The walls were all a pale brown, the ceilings the same beige with textured glass panels for light. It was neat and tidy, as though no one had ever used it.
A girl, wearing the same button up shirt as Dor, came into the room from the hall. She froze when she saw them. Her expression, while not exactly fearful, was certainly cautious.
"Ah, Ms. Hook. This is Dorothy. She's our newest member. If I'm not mistaken, room 107 is empty yes?"
Ms. Hook was a tall girl with broad shoulders. She had plain brown hair pulled back in a simple tail and a crooked nose. Though her shirt was the same as Dor's, she wore a pair of loose pants tied close at the ankles. They were dark grey and had likely once been black. She wasn't wearing socks or shoes.
She nodded once. "Aye, sir."
"Ms. Dorothy will be taking it. Show her the way, will you?"
Ms. Hook nodded again. "Aye sir."
"Off you get then, Dorothy. I will send for you when I'm ready."
Mr. Quillon smacked her bottom before turning down the stairs. Dor grunted in quiet surprise. It had been a mild spank, as far as spanks went, yet it made her uneasy, ill almost. If he had spied on her as he had spied on Marnie Kim, perhaps he had seen her spanked at the orphanage.
Ms. Hook smirked. "I'm Jill. So you're the new one, huh?"
Dor nodded.
"The others are all out and about, so introductions will have to be later. Come on then."
She led Dor down the one hallway from the common room. The walls here were also plain and bare, painted the same pale brown. There were doors on either side marked sequentially, odds on the left starting with 101, evens on the right, starting with 102. It wasn't had to find 107.
Jill gestured. "The doors don't lock. Q doesn't like the idea that we might try to lock him out and he has a tendency to come in unannounced. So... there's that I guess." She slapped Dor's shoulder entirely too hard. "Good luck, new girl." Jill ambled back down the hall.
Dor entered 107 and closed the door behind her. She sat in the center of the room, closed her eyes, and pictured the room in her mind. The spellbook appeared in her lap, but she didn't open it. The multiverse warmed in her chest, but she didn't reach for it. She knew Mr. Quillion could find her wherever she might flee.
And that bothered her. He didn't seem dangerous, and he'd apologized for Elmira, but Dor couldn't bring herself to trust him. Something about him felt off. Perhaps it was his smile. Perhaps it was the way he collected items. Perhaps it was the way he collected people. Perhaps it was the way he'd smacked her bottom. It had only stung, but it had an air of familiarity, the way one might pat a dog, or perhaps remind an errant child to behave.
Certainly she didn't trust him the way she'd trusted others on her unexpected journey. Thinking of her friends made her chest pang. Though she'd only barely met her, Dor missed Twilight Sparkle, her kind smile and gentle humor. She missed Jubilee and her pugnacious confidence. She missed Minwu, her warm smiles and stern looks. She missed Li and his quiet companionship. And, perhaps most especially, she missed the Changs, being part of that family, even though it'd only been six days. She missed Kya, having the strength and warmth of her friend beside her.
Only hours ago at most, Dor had spanked her friend, had lain with her loins next to Kya's hot bottom, had held her and breathed in her scent. She had questioned everything she'd learned from the sisters about what was appropriate between girls.
And now she were gone. They were all gone.
Finally, with nothing to do and no one to talk to, Dor slipped off her shoes, pulled back the covers, and lay on the bed. Mindful of Ms. Hook's warning, she didn't undress in case Mr. Quillon decided to call upon her. The soft, white light of the room was pervasive, even after she'd closed her eyes, so Dor put her arm over them to block it out.
When the door slammed open, Dor sprang to her feet, falling into a defensive stance, spellbook open in her mind, yellow, pink, and blue sparks streaking at the interloper
"Fuck!" Elmira staggered back and crashed into the wall opposite the door. Dor stood, ready to hit her again, but Elmira held her hands up, looking this way and that through wide, unseeing eyes. "Stop" she shouted. "I'm here to fetch you for Quillon."
Dor stopped short. What had he been thinking sending Elmira for her? Or maybe Elmira was lying. That seemed likely. Raucous laughter from down the hallway stayed her hand. Elmira slid down the wall to sit, hands still outstretched, eyes still wide and unseeing.
Jill Hook stuck her hands around the doorframe. "Don't shoot. We come in peace."
"What's going on?" said Dor.
"Q is ready for you. He sent us to come get you."
"Yeah," said Elmira, louder than necessary, shaking her head and blinking rapidly. "Yeah, what she said."
Jill grabbed Elmira by a hand. Elmira squeaked as she was pulled to her feet, then stumbled until she could lean into the wall. It was strange seeing Elmira so vulnerable. Dor knew she shouldn't, but she felt mild joy in it.
"All right then," said Dor.
Elmira took a deep breath, shook her head again, then blinked at Dor blearily. "What the fuck was that?"
"You burst into my room unannounced. What did you expect?"
"She has a point," said Jill.
Elmira growled. "I won't forget this, Dorothy."
Dor clung desperately to any bit of confidence she could muster. She tried not to let fear show.
"Let's go, ladies," said Jill. "You lead the way, Elmira. I'll stay between you and your new best friend."
Dor followed Jill down the hall and through the common room to the stairs. It was a short walk down the curved hallway to the large, circular room where Mr. Quillon still sat behind his circular desk.
"Ah, excellent. Dorothy, Elmira, I'm sending you to Hogwarts School of Wizardry, circa twenty oh-one." He held a folded piece of paper out to each of them.
"You're sending us both?" said Dor.
"It's always good to have a backup plan," said Mr. Quillon. "Now, when you arrive at the school, you must immediately find the library and hand this letter to Madam Irma Pince. She will help you in your research of Ravenclaw's Diadem. Do you understand?" He held a folded envelope of beige paper out to both of them.
Elmira sighed. "I hate research projects."
"I'm well aware," said Mr. Quillon. "Your job will be to protect Dorothy."
"Oh, so I'm protecting her now?" said Elmira.
"What do I need protecting from?" Dor asked. She took the letter
Mr. Quillon shrugged. "Hard to say. Hogwarts is secure, but not always safe."
Dor looked at Elmira who sneered at her.
"I've already calibrated the teleporter." Mr. Quillion held a blue box with a silver cover out to Elmira who snatched it up as though worried Dor might try to take it. Elmira turned away from the group and took a few steps away before pressing the button.
A white line of light cut the space before them and rotated slowly to form a door of light. Elmira gestured.
"After you, Dorothy."
Dor took a breath, grit her teeth, and plunged through.