Episode 7: The Worst Version of Himself, Chapter 5
"My Queen, I have a question, if I may," murmured the sibilant susurration of a voice in the crepuscular half-light of the cavern.
The queen turned, and was met with the sinuous undulations of a cobra, winding its way around her supplicant's arm and hand. "Speak your mind."
The entwined arm lowered, passing the creature from one limb to another. "Why here? Surely the other site would be better. More appropriate to our cause?"
"Perhaps," the queen nodded. "But it is not yet ready for our use. It's link to the rainbow is weaker at present. This link is active, to the extent that it has even gained a reputation as being haunted. The local Maltese will not venture into some of its chambers for fear that they will be spirited away to some place. It is precisely this that makes these halls perfect for our current needs. There are fewer and fewer days left before the equinox, the time of change. Our other site will not be ready before then. This is ready now. It may not have the power to initiate my final transformation, but for yours, and for the others, it will suffice."
"And when your transformation takes place?"
"All the others should become solid, like an arch when the keystone is added, and your full power will be released," the queen explained, her regal manner and academic voice stating the desired outcomes as if they were proven facts. "And then," she continued, reaching out to run gentle fingers along the spine of the snake, "then we shall remake the world anew, and we shall rule."
XXXX
In the depths of the castle, standing in what once was the heart of the old dun, Galeas raised a hand and chanted. A shadow deepened in the darkness before him. The power it would take to open a portal such as this would drain him. He knew that. All magic had a cost. Always. None more so than dark magic. This would cost him. Dearly. But he could afford that cost. He had enough magic in him to pay the debt and more. Enough to follow the shadow path. The path shown him. Enough to reach the other end. To reach his goal. And there was no other way to do that. Even knowing where his armour was wouldn't help him. He couldn't open a wormhole there. He had tried. Something was protecting it. Forcing his hand. He had tried other options. All of them. And he knew of more than most. Finally, he had been left with the choice he now made. He knew the dangers. They might harm another, maybe even kill them, but not him. The drain on his life force would be no more than a minor inconvenience. A price that he alone could, and would, pay willingly.
As the blood dripped from his open hand, the dark portal opened. A road lay before him in the blackness, twisting with a soft lustre, like a ribbon of velvet on a sheet of satin. It beckoned him. With bold heart and outstretched hand, he stepped forward, into the shadows.
And the portal closed behind him.
XXXX
Flynn Carsen, Librarian, sat amongst the bookshelves. He should have seen it coming. He really should. Everything had just been going too well. He had the Library back. He had his adventures. His team. His friends. He had Eve. He was married to Eve! He knew they had a future together. A future with a son. He would have a son! He was going to be a father! The thought terrified him and exulted him in equal measure. Everything had been good.
Too good.
And that always meant there was something coming.
And there was.
When he and his wife - he and his wife: he loved that phrase - had returned from their honeymoon, he really hadn't been surprised to find a new world threatening... well, threat on their doorstep. He had taken it in his stride. They had dealt with worse than this. And with his knowledge and Jenkins' knowledge and the others, they would win out in the end.
But Jenkins had deserted them, taking his vast and deep knowledge of the Library, it's contents and their magic with him. Not only that, but now, if Charlene was to be believed - and Flynn couldn't imagine a world where she wasn't - he had effectively turned against them. He had chosen a path that could only lead to bloodshed. That began with it. A path that neither Flynn himself, nor any other Librarian or Guardian, could follow. A path that meant death to all but the undying.
And why?
To take revenge?
Flynn looked down through the balusters of the mezzanine to where his wife - his beloved wife - was terrifying da Vinci into compliance. God, how he loved her. She was his anchor, his home, his heart, his soul. She made him feel complete. Whole, for the first time in his life. Content. What would he do if he lost her? What would he give to punish those who had taken her from him?
What would he sacrifice?
His life?
His soul?
In a heartbeat.
So, yes: he could understand Jenkins' wish for revenge. His desire to rain down justice on those who had denied him the time he had waited so patiently for. The time to say goodbye the way they had always wished. The way they had planned. The way they had promised each other.
He could not understand the blanket refusal of any aid. Neither he nor any of the others had been able to reach the semi-immortal knight. Not even the two he had seemed to care most about. Cassandra had been sent away with a terse rebuttal. Ezekiel had been ignored entirely. Not even the resources of the Library, immeasurable as they were, were enough to tempt him to return. Instead he had turned to other ways. Old ways. Blood magic.
Darkness.
And Flynn had no idea what guiding light might bring him home.
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"I got nothing," Jacob Stone reported, leaning back on the central desk and pressing the heels of his hands into his tired eyes.
Cassandra stepped over to him, took both of his hands in hers and brought them gently to her lips. "We'll find something."
"I think I just did," Jones' voice was muffled by the bookshelves around him. He emerged holding a leather-bound tome, its gold edged pages glinting in the light.
"What've you got?" Eve demanded walking over from Jenkins' desk.
Jones placed the book down on the desk. The words on the pages were framed by curling capitals illuminated in gold leaf and green ink.
"Is that a book of fairy tales?" Stone frowned down at the page over the lucky thief's shoulder. "Last time we dealt with storybook stuff wasn't exactly a walk in the park."
Cassandra stepped daintily over to Ezekiel's other side. "Oh, I don't know. I had fun," she smiled, looking from the colourful page to her parchment pale hand, remembering the first time she had truly felt magic take hold of her.
"Yeah, I remember!" Stone growled, mentally flicking through all the women who had suddenly been falling over themselves to be near her. She hadn't really seemed to mind either. Even after the effects had worn off. "There something you want to tell me?"
Cassie looked round at him, over Ezekiel's head, and smirked, one dainty eyebrow arching playfully. Jacob felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards into a treacherous smile. Cassie's grin broadened. Both eyebrows rose innocently. Jacob threw her a look that said he wasn't falling for that act. He knew better. She bit her lip and looked away, giggling silently.
"Whatever wordless conversations you two are having behind my back," cut in their younger colleague, "can you at least wait until I'm not stuck in the middle of you!"
"It's fine," sighed Eve, a weary half smile teasing up one side of her mouth. "Just tell us what you've found Jones."
Ezekiel ducked away from the two lovers on either side of him and brought the book round to Eve, handing it to her with an indication of where to start reading. Flynn, who had, by this time, descended from the upper floor, wrapped an arm around his wife's waist and read the tale alongside her. Ezekiel rolled his eyes and retreated to the wall.
"It's the story of the Castle of the Golden Sun, by Friedmund von Arnim," explained the youngest member of the group. "It mentions a crystal ball with magical powers. On its own, I know: its hardly anything. But the thing is I saw a crystal ball here once."
"There's one on Jenkins' desk," Cassandra nodded. "He mentioned it once, back when you were ill. Said it was a present from a king."
Ezekiel stood up straight, his arms unfolding instinctively. "In the story, the hero who retrieves the crystal ball becomes a king. He uses the ball's magical powers to transform his brothers back into their human forms, they'd been turned into a whale and an eagle by their mad mother years before, and lift the spell that kept the princess trapped and her true form hidden. If that's the same ball, with the same powers, could it turn Jenkins back into his usual self?"
"What are the chances of that great paperweight being the same magical crystal ball from a fairy tale you just found?" Eve enquired, waving a hand in the direction of the sphere peeping out from behind a box camera on the abandoned desk.
"In this place, my love?" Flynn countered, kissing her temple. "It wouldn't surprise me if Ezekiel had just happened to 'find' that book lying open to a certain page?"
Ezekiel caught the questioning glance thrown his way and tipped his head in acknowledgement. "The Library misses him too."
"But how do we use it?" Cassandra frowned, flicking through the pages of the book that had been passed over to her and Jacob once again. "The brothers, and the princess, they had all been physically, magically changed from one form to another. Jenkins, he hasn't. There's no magic involved here, he's just..."
"He's just grieving," finished Charlene from above. "He's grieving. And for him, the process is going to be far worse than for any of us. We're lucky if we get to spend a single lifetime with those we love. He spent several lifetimes just waiting for the chance to be with her. When we lose someone we love deeply, we all go through the same process. We go through it in different ways, sure, but it's the same stages. I'm not sure which stage he's in right now, but I'm pretty sure anger plays a part. You don't need something magical to turn him back to himself. He's being himself. Himself at his worst, maybe, but still himself. He needs to go through this process and find a way on to the next stage. Find a way out of the head space he's got himself stuck in. That doesn't need magic: that needs you. Us. His friends. Being patient. Being kind. Being supportive. And being strong enough to tell him he's being an ass and stop him doing something that'll eventually get us all killed. Stop looking for ways to change him and start looking for ways to knock him out and get him back here where we can sit him down and do just that!"
Silence.
The Librarians looked down, avoiding each other's gazes. Stone mumbled something under his breath.
"What was that Chuckles?" Charlene called down.
The art historian raised his head, mouth in a fixed rictus grin. "Yes, ma'am."
Charlene nodded. "Good. Because I think I've worked out where he's going."
"What?" Flynn's head spun round to look up at the older woman. "Where? When? How?"
Charlene's lip curled in a wry smirk. "Which one do you want me to answer first?"
"Where is he?" Eve cut in, before her husband could ask something else. "And how do we get there?"
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Galeas tested the strength of the aged timber before him. All around him, creaks and groans played their haunting melody of time forgotten. Dank, salty air filled the cabin with a heavy, dull atmosphere. It was draining his hope. It was draining his life. He knew he was weakening. He could feel it. Centuries of feeling no more of the effects of time than the occasional ache, and the slow drag of time across his outward features. He had searched every other deck. This was the last. He would find it soon. He would have to. He would find it or die trying. And when he found it, when he was reunited with the symbols of his true self. Then he would have his revenge.
XXXX
Cassandra looked up from the book. The others were looking at her expectantly.
"Can you do it?" Jacob asked gently.
"I can try," she shrugged. "It'll take more power than I have, though."
"You have a whole Library here to borrow from, Cassie," he murmured softly. "You can do this."
"Don't we need blood for this?" Eve frowned at Charlene, her hand on her sleeve, ready to roll it up.
"No! No," replied the older woman, "that's the last thing we need! Jenkins, Galeas, whatever, he used it because he had to. He has no fairy blood. He can't access the magic of the castle or it's keepers. We have a Library and its Librarian. We don't need a castle."
"So, what?" Eve demanded. "We just line up Cassandra with our magic wormhole and use her to channel the Library's magic through it?"
"Not exactly," replied Flynn, the hesitation in his voice, and the way none of the others were meeting her gaze, doing nothing to allay Eve's fears.
"What are you doing Librarian?" Mrs Carsen growled, her arms folding into a stern knot.
"Cassandra can see magic and can move it around," Mr Carsen explained, waving his arms in a vague parody of one of Cassandra's synaesthetic moments and ignoring the glares from Cassandra, Jacob and Ezekiel this earned him. "She can channel it and direct it, and, to an ever increasing level, control it. But the level of magic actually in her. The magic she herself has taken in and allowed to become a part of her. That's still far too low for this. I, on the other hand..."
"Have ten years more magic than any of them do," finished his wife, tipping her head in the direction of their three surrogate offspring. "By that logic, surely da Vinci has more magic than any of you. Why isn't he here?"
"Leonardo has been away from magic, and the Library, for a long time," her husband admitted, running a hand through his already dishevelled hair. "Somehow, either because of that or for some other reason, he has less magic... less power... than I do."
"Huh," she pulled a face. "Power. I married the most powerful person in the room. Did not see that one coming."
"Only magically powerful..."
"Uh-huh..."
"And I suppose if knowledge is power..."
"Don't push it..."
"My wife still has the knowledge of how to kick my ass in ten seconds flat."
"Got that one right."
"Always, my love."
"Be careful, Librarian."
"Always, Guardian."
Eve held Flynn's gaze in silence for a long moment, her eyes boring into his soul, searching for anything he might be hiding. She had listened to Charlene's descriptions of the spells Jenkins had used, the side effects they would have. She had listened to the details of the hidden place he was going to. It was another first. This time, the first of its kind to be recorded. It wasn't a lost Mayan city, or some other place, that had been newly discovered. It was a place famous for its disappearance. And now her husband was going to be used to form a solid link with this place so that she and most of the rest of the people she cared about in this world could charge in and rescue the only other person on that list not currently present or trapped in her very own tower. She hadn't heard anything yet that would remove the weight growing in the pit of her stomach. To quote every Star Wars movie ever made: she had a bad feeling about this.
She raised her hands in surrender. She still didn't like it but she was out of arguments and hadn't come up with any better options yet. "So we're going. Then what? We find him, Cassandra knocks him out, we bring him back here, right?"
"Er, you'll have to do the knocking out," Ezekiel winced. "Or, you know, Stone, but since he still pretty much hits like a girl and I don't do punchy..." Three decidedly female glares were levelled at the ex-thief's head. "A little, tiny weak girl, obviously, not an utterly awesome and freakishly scary woman."
"What he means is Cassie has to stay here and keep the door open," Stone filled in the burgeoning silence. "She can't come with."
"So it's just us three?" Eve clarified.
"Four," chipped in Charlene. "I'll be there too."
"Charlene?" Flynn frowned. "You don't go on missions. You've never gone on missions."
"Never's a long time, Flynn," smiled the retired receptionist, straightening her Librarian's cravat. "And I've been around here a lot longer than you have, remember? You didn't think I always did the same job, did you?"
"You...?"
"I wasn't always this old either," she reminded him. "Don't worry: I'm tougher than I look."
"I don't doubt it..." Flynn trailed off.
"So," Cassandra cut in. "Shall we?"
Flynn looked round and down at the delicate, dainty hands the redhead was holding out to him. He nodded, unsure of his voice for the moment, and placed his hands in hers.
The others stepped back as Cassandra and Flynn began chanting the words of the spell. It was the same spell Galeas had used, just without the blood magic, so it would open the door to the same spot that his version had. The price would be smaller, less severe, and would only affect them, but they hadn't bothered to worry the others with those little details. They would only have been a distraction. Flynn's hands tightened on Cassandra's as he felt the power begin to leave him. Magic always has a cost. That ever present warning had always kept him from experimenting too much with the abilities he knew he had gained through the years. Not unless he knew the cost and was willing to pay it. He knew this one. He was willing.
The portal that opened up before Eve and the others was nothing like their friendly little wormhole, stuck behind a door. This portal grew, like a shadow, into a wavering rectangle of velvety darkness. There were no doors involved here. At the edges of her vision, she saw the two men throw a glance at each other. By her side she heard Charlene speak up.
"I'll take Chuckles, you take Houdini," murmured the older woman. "We split into two pairs, we search the place in half the time."
"And if we're too late?"
"We get back here in half the time and start planning our next move sooner."
Eve nodded and locked a hand on Ezekiel's collar. "Jones, you're with me."
And the darkness closed behind them like a vice.
