Jenkins, Charlene and Judson stood in the cold, stale-smelling crypt of the Library and looked down at the long, simple coffin constructed of oak. Next to the coffin yawned an open grave. A large slab of marble that perfectly matched the flooring waited nearby to cover the grave. Charlene turned apprehensively to Caretaker.
"Galahad, are you sure this is what you want to do?" she asked, her voice low and anxious. "I'm sure we can think of something less…drastic, if we just took some time and…"
"No," he answered firmly, but not unkindly. "I appreciate your concern, Charlene, but I've been here far too long as it is."
"But you're still recovering," she argued. "You're still weak, you've lost far too much weight! You need to rest, build up your strength, allow yourself to heal completely!"
"If a one hundred and seven year rest doesn't restore me, then nothing will," Jenkins countered gently. He turned to her and laid his bandaged hands on her shoulders.
"I don't belong here, Charlene, you know that. There's already a Jenkins in the Library right now, and if Judson is to be believed—" He shot the Librarian a stern look. "Even that is one Jenkins too many!" He returned his attention to his old friend.
"It's too risky for me to stay any longer, I know too much. Even an accidental slip of the tongue could have dire effects on future events. And since there are no functioning time machines left now, the only way I can travel back to where I belong is by the long route." He felt the Guardian's shoulders drop as she turned her head to take in the coffin again.
"I know, Galahad, I know, but—does it have to be like this?" she said, flicking her hand at the coffin, her lips twisting into a grimace of disgust.
"Yes," he answered. "We can't take the chance of any future Librarians or Guardians—or especially myself—accidentally encountering me, and if I try to hide myself within the Library or in one of the other Annexes until 2019, there will always be a chance of that happening." He let go of her and turned back to regard the coffin.
"This way, I will be completely outside of the Library's sphere of activity. There won't be a risk of my being discovered prematurely." He turned back to Charlene and raised a stubby, regenerating finger in warning.
"Just be certain that you make that entry in the Appointment Book!" he reminded her gravely. "After that, the future will take care of itself." Charlene pressed her lips together and looked as though she was going to say something else, but in the end she remained silent and only nodded her head. Jenkins turned his attention to the quietly waiting Judson.
"Judson," the immortal began with a nod. "If you're ready, I'm ready." The Librarian silently turned and walked to a lampstand nearby to pick up a small bowl of apples. He carried them back to the waiting Jenkins.
"Are you…are you sure this will work?" he asked, looking worriedly up into Jenkins's dark brown eyes. Jenkins peered down at the bowl of fruit and chose one that satisfied him, gripping it carefully with his half-grown fingers.
"It should," he answered lightly, polishing the apple on the coat-sleeve of his Edwardian-style suit. "Being an immortal, I cannot be killed, as you well know. But I can still be affected by certain magics." He held the apple up to look at the sheen of its blood-red skin.
"This should merely put me to sleep until the spell is properly broken," he continued, turning his gaze to the short Librarian. Jenkins automatically held out his right hand.
"Thank you, Judson, for taking care of my Cassandra," he said sincerely as he looked into Judson's eyes. "And thank you for coming to look for me, for bringing me back to the Library." Judson took the outstretched hand and carefully shook it.
"You're welcome, Jenkins," he said. He held onto Jenkins's hand as he gazed solemnly up at the larger man. Judson paused for a moment, then took a breath. "I…I know that we haven't exactly seen...seen eye to eye on most things, Galahad, and…and maybe I should've said something before now, but…" The Librarian paused again, a thoughtful look crossing his sad-looking face.
"Just…in case this scheme of yours doesn't…doesn't work, and...and since I can't say anything to the Jenkins of this time, I want to tell you now that you're...you're an honorable man; you always have been. I've…I've always admired you—y-your courage, your integrity, your loyalty. You…you should've been a Librarian." Judson's eyes dropped a moment before looking up into Jenkins's again.
"I wish you and Cassandra many happy years together." Jenkins, unable to believe his ears, stared down at Judson for a few moments in astonishment. The old Librarian had never before said such things to him. A tiny, shy, but immensely pleased smile came to his lips and lit up his dark eyes, and he began to slowly shake Judson's hand again, more heartily this time.
"Thank you, Ju—. Yehuda," he rumbled warmly with a slight bow, using Judson's true name for the first time in centuries. He let go of Judson's hand and started to turn to Charlene when Judson spoke up again.
"By...by the way: You...you owe me five hundred dollars for the bribe I had to pay in Halifax to...to keep them from embalming you again," he said, his face expressionless. Jenkins lowered his head to peer intently at the shorter man.
"Remind me in a hundred years' time," the Caretaker replied, the barest hint of a smile coming to his lips. "I should have it for you by then." He turned to the waiting Charlene and extended his bandaged hand to her.
"And thank you, too, Charmion, for all of your help as well," he said kindly, also using her true name. "I'm glad that we were able to talk about things, clear the air a bit."
In most of her conversations with Galahad in the past, she had always seen an adoring look in his eyes that could only be described as "mooning", but now that look was completely absent in this future version of the Caretaker, and Charlene was surprised to find that she was now filled with a sense of bittersweetness about that. She smiled and put her hand out to take his.
"You're welcome, Galahad," she said. She dropped her eyes a moment and held onto his hand. Her blue eyes came up and looked straight into his brown ones.
"Galahad, Cassandra told me a little bit about the disagreement you had just before all of this happened," she said solemnly. She sensed his body stiffening and heard his intake of breath. She squeezed his hand to reassure him.
"She is magically gifted, Galahad!" she said urgently. "The Heart of Sorrow—it sensed the magic she possesses, and that's how it was able to influence her so easily. It sensed her magic and it sensed the fact that she was untried and defenseless. It was able to manipulate her with hardly any effort at all." The Guardian felt Jenkins's arm stiffen even more as she continued to hold his hand. The look of guilt and fear in his eyes told her that the immortal already knew what she wanted to tell him—and he wanted nothing to do with it. She said it aloud anyway.
"Galahad, Cassandra has the Old Magic!"
Jenkins opened his mouth to protest, but she didn't let him. "You know it's true, Galahad! And I know that you fear the Old Magic, and for good reason. But...no matter how long you ignore it or how fiercely you deny it, it's not going to just go away! She needs to learn, Galahad, she needs to be taught, for her own protection at the very least! And you have to do that, as painful as it may be for you; you're the only one who can do it!" Jenkins raised his head and sniffed defiantly.
"Who's to say that you and Judson can't do it?" he said, doing his best to sound lackadaisical. Charlene smiled knowingly, sadly.
"Judson and I have pieced things together well enough to figure out that we won't be around by 2019," she said gently. He began to argue with her, but she waved her free hand in dismissal. "We don't matter, Galahad. It's Cassandra that matters now. It's up to you to teach her, you're the only one in the world who can do that in 2019. I know you don't want to, but you must. You have to help Cassandra learn to control the magic she carries, or it will ultimately destroy her. You know it will!" Charlene felt his body begin to relax as he accepted the truth of what she was saying. She squeezed his hand one last time before releasing it.
Jenkins stepped back to regard her for a moment, then he took a deep breath before he laid his hand over his heart and bowed his head in surrender.
"I shall take everything you've said under consideration," he said quietly. Charlene smiled with relief.
"Congratulations on your Sealing," she said, confident now that Galahad would do the right thing. "I'm glad to know that things worked out for you in the end. Or rather that they will work out for you." Jenkins smiled weakly as he took her hand and raised it to kiss the back of it.
"Indeed it has," he said. "It's worked out far better than I ever dared to dream." He then turned back to Judson, pulling himself up straight and adjusting his suit coat as he moved into a more businesslike attitude.
"Now! Where would you prefer me—inside of the coffin or outside?" he asked briskly.
"Inside, if...if you please," said Judson, giving Jenkins a mischievous look. "Charlene and I, we…we aren't as spry as we used to be, and you...you don't appear to have gotten any smaller over the...over the years. I'm not sure we could lift you by ourselves, and it would be rather awkward try…trying to explain to the workmen why we're secretly burying the Caretaker in the basement." Snorting softly at that mental picture, Jenkins stepped obligingly into the coffin and sat down. He looked up at Charlene.
"Don't forget the entry in the Appointment Book!" he reminded her again. "I have no desire to stay cooped up in this thing for all eternity!"
"If you keep hounding me about it, I'll just forget the whole thing and leave you planted there in the ground like...like...a grumpy old tulip bulb!" answered Charlene tartly, but her voice shook faintly with emotion. She waved her hand at him. "Now…just eat the damned apple and get it over with!"
Jenkins smiled grimly as he turned and raised the apple to his lips. After a deep, preparatory breath, he closed his eyes, then took a large bite out of the shining apple. A small dribble of juice ran down his chin, but before he could even raise his other hand to wipe it away, he lost consciousness and fell backwards.
His limp hand released the apple as he slumped, and it fell with a quiet thump onto the floor of the box. Charlene caught him and, together with Judson at the unconscious man's feet, they gently eased him down until he was lying flat on his back inside the wooden coffin. They removed the slippers from his injured feet, then removed all of the bandages from his head, hands and feet so that they could continue to regenerate unhindered over the coming decades while he slept. Charlene had to look away as she removed the bandage covering the ugly hole in Jenkins's face where his nose should've been. She focused her attention on carefully folded Jenkins's long, heavy arms over his stomach. She then kissed the fingers of her hand and touched them to the the Caretaker's cheek in farewell.
"Goodbye, Galahad!" she murmured. She felt Judson lightly place his hand on her back.
"He'll be fine," the Librarian assured her. "This is a good idea he's had. He clearly trusts his Librarians—trusts his wife—to figure things out on their end. We...we have to trust them as well."
Charlene stood up and looked into Judson's eyes, smiled wanly as the Librarian carried a folded sheet of muslin over from the lampstand. They covered Jenkins with the muslin, then Charlene stepped back from the coffin to allow Judson to lift the lid and place it onto the coffin. He picked up the hammer and the handful of nails lying nearby and began nailing the lid down. Charlene flinched with every blow of the hammer.
I hope this works, Galahad, she thought as she watched each nail being driven into the wood. For your sake and for Cassandra's sake and for the Library's sake—I hope this works!