Chapter 4

The Haunted Library

~O|*|O~

The library itself was almost like a secret paradise, only there was the possibility of locating it and entering at any time, for anyone. However, most students at Hawkstone High didn't care much for the calming smell of books, or the ordered rows, piled on shelves, of brilliantly illustrated pages. So it may as well have been secret.

Emily's sanctuary.

She smiled to herself, as she passed a shelf of non-fiction books, under the section: History. That one she looked away from immediately. There wasn't much about history that was exciting in her mind. And besides, there were enough deaths in the world at present, she didn't need an entire list of past deaths. She continued tracing the shelves, skimming past books as her eyes glanced over the numbers labelled against their thick spines. 977.8... 977.6... 964.67...

567.9.

She stopped finding herself several shelves further, at a book with a deep green spine. The cover seemed to be intact, unscathed. A new book then. It would explain why she hadn't come across it before. In the Life of A Giant: Sue's Story. Technically, it would have been better placed if a biography, if it weren't made up of mostly accurate theories and facts that mostly focused on tyrannosaurs in general. 'Everything you can learn from a synopsis,' she thought, as she pulled out the book, looking at it.

When she was a child, she loved them. Dinosaurs. The mysterious giants that disappeared so suddenly from Earth, 65 billion years ago, with little to leave behind but fossils. It was all so fascinating. Perhaps it would still excite her, perhaps she would come to find love for them once more. But that life was gone and she no longer was a child.

Gripping the book by the spine, she returned it into the gap in the shelf, before stepping back and sighing.

"All the books in the world, but none will ever possess the information you need."

Emily froze, her already skin going several shades paler. She's heard that voice and that made her very uncomfortable.

"It'll never get you what you wish for most."

As a tremble wormed through her body, she slowly turned around. Though when her gaze settled on the librarian that sat meters behind her, with no one else around, she found herself wondering if perhaps she had gone mad. Or perhaps Jack could manipulate his voice in a way most could only dream of. No, she would have caught sight of him by now.

She rotated in a full circle, scanning past the empty chairs, the stacks of shelves and books, were only a handful of people scurried through, busily searching for books. A few steps forward. A few steps back, but no matter where she went, there was no one to be found; no one who this voice could belong to. She knew everyone here and could remember their voices perfectly clearly. Three girls, none of which has a deep enough voice to match this one. A talkative blond boy, who even know still spoke in a tenor. A mute boy, who she knew couldn't speak, for whatever medical reason, despite hearing perfectly well. Or rather, he could, but all that ever came out was a bundle of sounds and words. And a female librarian who also didn't fit.

Shaking her head, she found herself walking up to one of the tables a few moments later, forcing herself to forget about what she had heard. It was nothing. It had to be. Nonsense. She settled down. The chair itself was metal, with a cushioned seat and back, basic in shape but relatively heavy. It scraped against the carpet as she pulled it in. It was then that it came to her attention that she hadn't taken out a book. Dammit. Glancing down, she was ready to sigh. Instead, her lips parted a little.

A book on Shakespeare's plays lay dead centre of the desk. It hadn't been there before. That desk was empty. Completely.

Her pulse accelerated. The heart rattled in her ribs. Her pupils dilated, nearing the size of the irises. She watched that book cautiously and she could swear it had shifted whenever she blinked.

Or maybe that was maths, messing with her brain cells.

She shook her head, placing it into the palm of her hands. Avoiding the book, her eyes stayed focused on the table. All she was left with was the shadows and the light coming from around her. The sound of the clock ticking away yet again made her nervous. Seconds passed. It had felt so tempting to look at the book again. To check that it was still there. Not having moved.

Except when she looked back at where the book had been...

It was no longer there.

In panic, she had almost flipped over the chair as she tried to escape. Walking as fast as possible, she rushed out the door. A single person looked at her, questioning her actions from behind a set of books. She pushed the doors open, almost slamming them against the walls.

She hadn't noticed the taller figure in front of her, not until she crashed into him. Hard.

Jack had left the school some time ago, busying himself around the North Pole. Not for any particular reason, except to cause a little mischief amongst the elves and pay North a visit.

The wind was particular playful that way, matching Jack's mood. He could swear he could hear it giggle too; it had to have been the wind, for there was no one amongst the Canadian boreal forest that could match its jingly voice. Occasionally, it would slyly skim across the pines, taking Jack with it, leaving him with several pines sticking out of his hoodie. Not that Jack minded. He would repay it with a little bit of frost at the nearest opportunity.

They landed soon enough, having managed to swerve past a maze of ice caves, dropping onto the wooden platform that served as a runway for North's reindeer. Dasher seemed to be content with peacefully trotting about, paying no heed to the two visitors until Jack tumbled to its feet.

"Woah- wind, calm it," he teased, rising onto his legs.

Dasher jerked, tilting his the crown of antlers along with his head.

"Ah, it's okay. Just visiting this time," Jack assured the reindeer. It would not be tricked so easily. Narrowing his eyes, Dasher followed the boy as he walked past the stables, into North's workshop. On any normal day, there was much to fear from the young winter sprite. On a day like this, when Jack appeared positively giddy about something or other, Dasher swore that it would get much worse.