Well, let's see if anyone can guess the answer to the last riddle then. :)

In case anyone didn't know: SyFy is showing the entire series 1 of The Librarians, plus all three Librarian films, this Bank Holiday weekend, starting from 11am Saturday morning. I'll be recording and saving the lot!

Thanks again for your continued support, vocal or silent.

Any and all views regarding the most romantic place in Europe belong entirely to the characters, and they all have different ideas on the subject, believe me! None of which necessarily agree with my own. Please do not shout at me if you disagree with him.

Episode 3: For the Book, Chapter 5

Stone and Cassandra stepped out of the door hand in hand, their destination right in front of them. There was still a bit of walking to do, but no maps would be required here: the Eiffel tower climbed high above the Parisian skyline, even if it had not been right down the far end of their street. There was no apology this time, just a sad smile on Stone's face. Cassandra watched him thoughtfully.

"This is one of the places you visited, isn't it," she said, with a nod of realisation. "I remember the postcard."

"Eiffel Tower, Pont Neuf," he said, not looking round. "Anywhere on a postcard that was open at that time. I went back to visit the Louvre later: it wasn't."

Cassandra kept her eyes on him, studying his features in an effort to read his mind. "What's it like? The view?"

"It's beautiful," he murmured, looking down at the street. "Should be even more so in the sun."

"It'll be windy up there," she mused, pulling her jacket closer around her. The sun was warm, but the wind was cold even at ground level. "I know that's no danger to the tower, I mean Eiffel and his engineers factored that in when they built it and anyone can see that the structure is mathematically perfect to withstand the force of even a hurricane..." Cassie broke off at a smile from Jacob. She had been babbling again.

"Don't stop, you're adorable when you geek out about something," he said softly. "It's one of the many things I love about you."

"What if they're not letting anyone up?" Cassandra asked, blushing. "Wind might not affect the tower, but surely it could affect people's balance, and maybe the lift machinery?"

"They'll only close it if the wind poses a serious threat to safety," Stone shook his head, looking up at cotton wool clouds moving across a blue sky. "It ain't that bad."

He looked at his watch and smiled.

"What?" Cassandra's eyes narrowed.

"By the time we get there and find what it is we're looking for, it'll be lunch time," he grinned. "There's a restaurant on the second floor I think it would be appropriate to try out."

"Appropriate?" Cassie looked sideways at him. "Why? What do you know?"

"Oh, you'll find out," Jacob chuckled.

"Don't you dare..."

"That's not why," grinned Stone, shaking his head.

"Okay then," she tightened her grip on his hand for a moment. He looked round and she smiled. "Let's go."

XXXX

"How was Egypt?" Ezekiel's voice broke into Flynn's reverie.

"Hmm?" Flynn looked up, momentarily startled. His eyes rested on the young Librarian, slouched back in a chair that dangled on two legs, while his own sat atop the desk. "Oh, you know: hot and sandy. My good lady wife-to-be will be back in a minute you know, with Jenkins."

Ezekiel dropped his feet to the ground and let the chair fall forward. "Hot and sandy? Is that all you got? Last time we went to Egypt you couldn't stop lecturing everyone on the... Well, on everything, really. Not for days. You're just back and all you've got to say is hot and sandy? Jenkins said you were in the Valley of the Kings!"

"Hmm? Oh, we were," the Librarian nodded. "Explored some tombs, Hatshepsut's temples at Deir el-Bahri and Speos Artemidos. All very interesting."

"Then why're you so quiet?" Ezekiel pressed. "Come on, mate: I've had those places on my to do list since I got here! Spill! What are they like?"

"They are..." Flynn paused, his brows furrowed and eyes downcast. "They're awesome, Ezekiel. You should go visit them yourself sometime."

"What's wrong?" Ezekiel asked, getting up from his distant chair and walking round the desk to a closer one.

"It's nothing," Flynn shook his head. "Just a feeling."

"Of what? You're not getting ill now, are you?"

"No, nothing like that," he replied, sitting up and looking the ex-thief up and down. "Did you ever get the feeling there was something staring you right in the face and you were missing it?"

"Once or twice," the young man shrugged. "It usually led to much running and sirens."

"That's the feeling I've got now," Flynn crossed his arms and leant back. "It's like I have enough pieces of the puzzle to know there's a picture there, but I don't have enough to see what it is yet."

"I know that feeling," Ezekiel nodded, sobering. "Last time I had that feeling there was a murderous ghost girl trying to kill us all and I got stuck in a dollhouse. Stone was the only one who worked it out from the clues the house could give us."

"Hmm, how's he doing? Have you seen him lately?" Flynn's brow furrowed again. His eyes sought out Stone's workspace and grew distant.

Ezekiel pulled a face and shrugged, shaking his head. "Ships that pass in the night, mate."

"Aren't we all, right now," mused Flynn, eyes drifting to his and Eve's desk.

Ezekiel followed his gaze. "Something worrying you about Colonel Baird?"

"I think..." Flynn's brow creased deeper. "It's nothing, Ezekiel. Just some stuff we didn't really get the chance to talk about. Dreams. I'm sure we will."

"You look kinda overly worried for something as simple as talking about hopes and dreams," said Ezekiel. "Just saying."

"It's nothing," Flynn assured him, getting to his feet and putting on his brightest smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some overdue research I really must make a start on."

Ezekiel watched Flynn disappear, bounding out of the office with forced energy. He was still staring at the door when Jenkins wandered back in, looking over his shoulder at the rapidly receding researcher.

"What...?" Jenkins began, looking from the door the Ezekiel.

"Jenkins, if there was something hinkey going on, would you know?" Ezekiel enquired politely.

"Hinkey?" Jenkins raised an astute brow.

"Weird, out of the ordinary, not normal," he expanded.

"We live in a library of magical items that is not entirely situated in the same dimension as the rest of the mortal, human world," Jenkins clarified. "Please define normal."

"If something big was coming," he tried again. "Like Dulaque going after the Loom of Fate, say. Or even bigger. Would you be able to tell?"

"If you mean do I have some sort of magical apocalypse radar, then no. No more than anyone else employed here, anyway," said the old man with a wave of his hand. "I have a little more experience in dealing with such things, but the best magical barometer for anything of that ilk is the Library itself. If it isn't sensing anything, I wouldn't worry. If it is, it'll let us know."

"Like it did with the Loom of Fate?" It was Ezekiel's turn to raise an eyebrow now. "Oh yeah, that was really clear. Dulaque nearly kills us, but hey: we got all the right ingredients to fix it!"

A book hit Ezekiel on the back of his head. "Hey! Invalid here! I'm in recovery!" He looked down at the book. It was the one on Norse mythology he had started reading for lack of anything better to do and the fact that Beowulf had rather got him stuck in that world for the moment. The bookmark was now lying halfway between where he was seated and where he had left it. He pouted. "Hey, I was reading that!"

"A part of my having more experience," breezed Jenkins, "is the fact that I learned long ago: not even the Librarian speaks ill of the Library!"

XXXX

"We should be looking for the last riddle," Cassie giggled. She had been admiring the expansive vista of the city of Paris from the viewing platform of the Eiffel Tower. Then someone had wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck, and been lucky that she knew it was him. Of course after that, she'd been a little, well, distracted. The bird's eye view of France's decadent capital could wait.

"It ain't going anywhere," Jacob murmured in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "We'll have a better shot at finding it once these folks clear out for lunch too."

"You do realise that public displays of affection do not embarrass the French," she smiled, leaning back into him nonetheless. "I mean, they're practically encouraged here!"

"You complainin'," he murmured, working his way down her neck. He reached a familiar spot and smiled as her nails dug into his arms.

"We need to go find that clue and that book," Cassie said quickly, dragging herself away with great mental effort. "And we can have lunch here if you want, but no more stops until we're home, please."

"Just come here a minute," said Jacob, catching her arm and pulling her round to face him. He kissed her soundly on the mouth, one hand in her hair, the other round her waist. The kiss quickly deepened, her arms snaking up his chest and around his neck as she melted into him. When they finally broke apart, both their faces were flushed. "There is no way in this world I was gonna take you to the most romantic place in Europe and not do that," he shrugged.

"You know, if we leave a marker, we could always come back when they're closed," Cassie suggested, more than a little breathless. Since using Flynn's phone to attach a door to Dulaque's mysterious warehouse, the Librarians had tried out leaving other objects in places it was difficult to get a door to link to directly. They'd had some success and various 'markers' were now scattered across some of the more obscure, or more difficult to get into, sites of magical interference.

"You go do that. I'll start looking," breathed Jacob, kissing her cheek then disappearing off to a corner of the platform to begin his search.

Cassie rocked on her heels, already missing his presence. "Focus," she muttered, under her breath, and wandered back over to the lift doors.

Placing a marker could take many forms. If it was unlikely someone would move it, an object could be left that linked to another object remaining in the office. The latter would be used to set the back door. It could be two halves of a photo, one of a pair of earrings, a message written on paper then torn in half. In one case there was a pepper pot hidden in the dry stone wall of a highland cottage, its matching salt cellar now on a shelf overlooking the mezzanine. Most of the time, though, especially once they, or rather Ezekiel - always a lateral thinker - had figured out it worked, they used the method Cassandra used now. Concentrating on framing the doors evenly, she tapped the camera button on her phone and took a photo. Saved to her cloud, with a note attached to identify it, the picture could be retrieved and used any time to return to those exact doors.

She smiled and thought back to Ezekiel's first words on discovering it had worked. "Loopholes are awesome!"

"Cassie!" Stone shouted across. She turned. He was down on one knee, at the point where the tower overlooked the main part of the city, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking intently at the tower metalwork instead. She hurried over.

"Where lovers meet to bind their lives," she quoted, kneeling beside him and photographing the engraved metal. "Of course you'd have to kneel to see it."

"We don't know what it is yet," he reminded her. "What do you see?"

"It's been painted over so often it's hard to see anything," she shrugged. "Maybe Ezekiel can do something with the picture to make it show up." She hesitated and reached out a hand. "Or maybe..."

Stone watched as she closed her eyes and ran her fingers down the metal. "What is it? Morse code again?"

"No," she murmured, concentrating. "It's Braille."

"What does it say?" Stone asked.

"It makes no sense to me. Here," she got to the end of the markings and reached for her notepad. She scribbled down the alien characters and passed him the pad. "What do you read?"

"You are not gonna believe this," he breathed.

"What?" Cassandra's eyes widened.

"A floating city contains the key

Where they will build a shrine to me

Below its masts the book will be

Awaiting warmer climes from thee

Hidden in plain sight for all to see

Librarians: keep it safe for me."

"It says Librarians," she gasped. "Plural! And it rhymes in English!"

"Yeah, and in French for every pair of lines," he added. "But that's not all. You know where this means we're headed?"

Cassandra paused, thought about it, then her eyes widened again. "I have always wanted to go there!"