Alex woke with a headache, which was nothing new. He'd found himself in a similar situation many times—on and off the job—so it didn't alarm him to open his eyes and immediately have to close them against the pounding in his temples.
The alarming part was the face hovering a few inches away.
Years of training and experience kept him still when he wanted to recoil. "You got an ice pack?" he asked in a groggy voice. In his mind's eye, he reformed an image of the face, studying it and trying to match a name to the bright eyes and gray hair. It took longer than he liked for the answer to come, and when it did, he opened his eyes again to take in the rest of his new surroundings. The Curator was bent over him, her head tilted as she examined him, like a bird pondering a strange new bug.
"No ice packs," she said, straightening. "I apologize for the rough treatment, but then, we wouldn't have had to resort to such drastic measures if you'd been truthful about your identity."
"You can hardly fault me for giving a false name when you go by 'Curator'," Alex said.
She smiled. "Touche. Maybe you're not the genius Dr. Stone, but you obviously share some qualities."
Alex met her gaze and examined the room from his peripherals. It looked like a study, with high ceilings and walls lined with paintings. Busts and statues sat on pedestals before the walls, each marked with a neat gold plate displaying the name and artist.
"What is it?" she asked, backing away to give him a better view of the room. "Don't you like my office?"
"Swell," Alex said. It was bigger than any office he'd ever seen—more like an art gallery or a museum.
"They say sarcasm is the basest form of wit," she said. "But I disagree. If the delivery is right, I find it very amusing."
"Why am I here?" Alex asked. He tried to move his hands, but they were bound behind his back. He looked down at the chair he was tied to—wood, smashable, good to know—and felt a solid desk against his hands. No room to back up, then.
"I had to find out who I was dealing with," the Curator said. "And what a story I've uncovered! Triplets? In a world where magical mayhem reigns supreme, do you have any idea how refreshing it is to encounter such a delectably ordinary explanation?"
"I'll try not to take that personally," Alex said.
The Curator's smile never wavered. "Take it however you like. I would love to study the three of you once this is done, but—well, that's not what we're here for, is it? I'm afraid we have more important things to discuss."
Alex waited, again using his peripherals to scan the room. A single ornate door stood in the wall behind the Curator, no doubt locked and full of spells to prevent his escape. "What things?" he asked.
"Well, what am I to do with you?" the Curator said.
"Uh... let me go?"
She gave him an indulging smile. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. I'm just starting to build a reputation, and I can't let it out that I allowed such a trick to go unpunished. After all, look what happened to our friend Mr. Flores."
Alex stilled. "He's in jail in the Philippines."
"He was." The Curator straightened and moved to one of the statues, a bust that he recognized (thanks to Jake) as a marble carving of Bacchus. "And it really wasn't his fault. I let him believe he had stolen the items to establish contact with the Librarians, and he played his part perfectly. But he was convinced he had outsmarted me, and I couldn't have that."
"What did you do to him?" Alex asked.
The Curator rested one hand on the statue's curly hair. "He met with an unfortunate accident. Publicly, of course, so my enemies would know it was me. That's what we'll have to do with you as well. I can't let it get out that you were able to fool me, even briefly."
"How would they find out?" Alex asked. "I don't run in your circles."
"And yet here you are," the Curator said.
Movement over her shoulder drew Alex's eye, but he snapped his attention back to the Curator as soon as he saw what it was. "You can hardly blame me for being here," he said. "You're the one who kidnapped me."
Behind her, Cassie resumed a slow advance toward them. Alex had no idea how she'd escaped the basement, but relief crashed over him at the sight of her. He was too new to the world of magic to feel confident in his ability to handle the Curator on his own. All he had to do now was keep stalling.
The Curator drummed her fingers on the statue's forehead. "I don't blame you. There's something about you that makes me think we could have a lot of fun together. What do you think? The Librarians are so stuffy—all those rules—but with me, you could discover power you've never dreamed of. Riches? Authority? Strength? All yours. I'd even consider sharing the Gifts of the Magi with you when we find them."
"Right," Alex said. "The Gifts of the Magi. You said you wanted them so you could take over the world. How exactly would they help with that?"
He could see Eve now, too, slinking along the back wall toward a display of ancient swords. "You're familiar with the Gifts, aren't you?" the Curator said. When Alex shrugged, she smiled. "The Magi from the East brought them as gifts for the prophesied King of the Jews, back before they understood his kingdom to be a spiritual one. They thought he was destined to overthrow their Roman overlords, and so they brought him practical gifts."
"I'd hardly call incense practical," Alex muttered. Cassie was only ten feet away now, creeping on tiptoes in a way that made him think of a cartoon mouse trying to sneak past a cat.
The Curator flicked a finger at him. "Not for a babe, no. But for a ruler? Did you know frankincense was a priest's incense? Extremely powerful when used in the right spells. It represented the child's embodiment of a deity's powers. Gold represented the worldly riches and power he would seize from the Romans, and the myrrh—this is my favorite—myrrh was used in embalming. It foreshadowed his immortality."
"That's not quite how I remember my Christmas story," Alex said uneasily.
"With all three items," the Curator continued. "Anybody can gain the power of the Magi. Anybody can have the tools they need to topple governments, amass wealth, even live forever. All it would take is a little ambition. A little courage. Think what we could do with that kind of control! Wars? No one would dare challenge us. Peace on Earth at last. Poverty? With the wealth of the King of Kings, we could ensure no child ever goes hungry again. And as immortals, we would have the rest of time to perfect our kingdom. It's tempting, isn't it?"
Alex had seen just how corrupting power could be, and he wasn't interested in testing the Curator's theory on a global scale. But Eve and Cassie hadn't made their move yet, so he shrugged and tried to look like he was considering her offer. "I dunno if I'd want to live forever, but a little more money'd be nice. At least it'd get my landlady off my back."
"You think too small," the Curator said. "Tell me, what do you do for a living, Mr. Walker?"
"I own a gift shop."
She patted the statue's head. "Then you have seen plenty of greed. Rich tourists come stomping through your shop, throwing money about on trinkets they'll forget within the week, while you struggle to pay your rent. And the locals have it even worse. Forced to exploit their own culture to cater to the tourists, all in the name of survival. Wouldn't you like to change that?"
Alex looked away.
"I thought so," the Curator said. "I'm giving you a chance to help the people you love. To help everyone."
He thought about Kai, about the way her mother had taught the old ways to her village, and how so few of those beliefs remained. He thought about Ernesto's family all living together in cramped quarters, about Cory and Rita working in the hotel to serve tourists who didn't even notice them. He thought about the chefs and the artists and the historians he'd met during his time in the Philippines, and he thought about what he could do for them if he had the resources the Curator offered.
And he was tempted.
But he wasn't stupid. Offers like that never came without a price, and he was certain he didn't want to pay hers.
"Alright," Alex said slowly. "What exactly would you need from me?"
"Your allegiance," the Curator answered.
Easy as that. He fought the urge to look over her shoulder, to see what was keeping Eve and Cassie from acting. He was running out of ways to stall. "You know, I think we might—"
The Curator cut him off with a heavy, dramatic sigh. "I really would have enjoyed working with you."
"Hang on," Alex said. "I haven't said no."
But the Curator pressed her finger to his lips and set her other hand on the back of his chair, leaning in until her chest was almost touching his. The smell of ink and damp earth enveloped him as she brushed her lips against his ear.
"Do you really think I don't know when someone's stalling?"
Her fist closed over something on the desk, and she whipped around and hurled it across the room. Cassie screamed and ducked, throwing her arms over her head as a crystal paperweight shattered against the wall behind her.
Eve ripped a sword from the display and held it out like she knew how to use it. "Let him go."
The Curator leveled a disapproving look at her. "I'm not sure I like your tone."
"I'm not going to ask again," Eve said.
Alex flexed his bound wrists, relieved to feel the plastic bite of a zip tie against his skin. He could work with that.
"I'm glad to know you're all as resourceful as your reputations suggest," the Curator said, winking at Alex as she straightened. "I'm not sure how you found your way here, but it certainly makes things more interesting. Was it David? It must have been—my reports say Ms. Cillian is the only one of you bold enough to use magic, and I know for a fact she doesn't have the power to counter my spell. Oh, that's disappointing. I quite liked David."
Eve took a step toward them. "You seem to know an awful lot about us. Enough to use Jake's past against him, to lure us here and trap us with your fancy dimensional spells. I'm impressed."
"What can I say?" the Curator smiled. "I've done my homework."
"You must know just about everything there is to know about the Library," Eve continued. She took another step, her sword held out in challenge. "About the Librarians, our artifacts, our weaknesses. There's only one thing you didn't count on."
"And what's that?" the Curator asked, angling her shoulders to face Eve's threat.
A half-smile touched Eve's lips. "Alex isn't a Librarian."
That was a cue if he'd ever heard one. With a grunt, Alex bent forward and pushed away from the desk, raising his bound hands to shoulder level behind his back. He brought his hands down and kicked out at the Curator at the same time, and felt the zip tie snap over his body as his boot connected with the back of her knee. She collapsed, and Alex shot to his feet in time to see Eve smoothly cross the room and set the point of her sword against the Curator's throat.
"I'm only going to say this once," Eve said, her voice low and calm. "The Librarians are protected. Their families are protected. If you come after them again, I will respond accordingly, and no amount of magical items or interdimensional rifts will stop me."
A shiver worked its way up Alex's spine. He didn't know Eve that well, and on a different day, he might have argued that he didn't need her protection, but it felt good to be included under her shield. Even better, it felt good to know that Jake had someone like Eve Baird watching his back—that he'd surrounded himself with competent people who cared about him, who appreciated him, who were willing to break the rules of physics and threaten mysterious villains for him.
It felt good to know that Jake had more than one family.
Cassie had moved to the door and was running her hands over the frame, shaking her head. "Something's wrong," she called, frowning over her shoulder at Eve. "We should go."
Alex turned back to the desk, pulling open the drawers until he found the packet of zip ties the Curator had used on him. He didn't echo Eve's threats as he pulled the Curator's hands behind her back, guiding her to the chair he'd been sitting on and securing her there. But as he moved past her, he did stop to give her one of his best impersonations of Eliot's scariest glare, eyebrow and all.
Come after me again, it said. I dare you.
The Curator smiled.
Alex tried not to dwell on that as he turned his back on her, and when nothing struck him down as he crossed the room, he chalked it up as a win.
Eve lifted her arm as he approached, tapping her elbow against his before he could ask what she was doing. "Just something I do with Stone," she said, tossing her sword back into the display case and leading the way to their exit. "What's wrong with the door?"
Cassie brushed her fingers over the air in front of her face, like she was writing on an invisible chalkboard. "The dimensions are off again. Shifting. I don't know, I think—"
The floor gave a sudden shudder, and Cassie turned wide eyes on Eve. "We have to go. Now."
"Alex," Eve said, stepping back to give him room to lead. She wanted to watch their back—he got that—but leading the way down a hallway "shifting" between dimensions wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. But what else was he supposed to do? He paused just long enough to give Cassie's arm a grateful squeeze as he passed, meeting her blinding smile with a hesitant one of his own, and then he was jogging down the hallway, and Eve was closing the door behind them, and everything went dark.
"How far is it?" he asked, not bothering to conceal the trepidation in his voice.
"Not far," Eve said. "It only took us—"
The hallway gave another convulsing shake, and whatever she'd been about to say ended in a curse. Alex stumbled, catching himself on the bucking walls, spitting out a curse of his own.
"There!" Cassie gasped. Alex looked up to find an open door at the end of the hall, blocked by a figure Alex didn't recognize. A man, he thought, though the figure was back lit and Alex couldn't make out any distinguishing features.
"Hurry!" the man yelled—definitely a man—as though the heaving floors weren't incentive enough. He ran as quickly as the quaking hall allowed him, hurtling past the man and twisting to make sure Cassie and Eve followed before the man slammed the door closed.
A hand gripped his sleeve, and Alex was moving to swat it off before he realized it belonged to Jake. He didn't ask if Alex was okay, but the way his eyes darted over Alex's face might as well have. They lingered long enough to ensure Alex's health, and then they switched to Cassie and Eve. "Everybody okay?"
Cassie nodded, panting. "What happened? Why was the passage shaking? And what's he doing with you?"
"Saving you," the man said. "You're welcome."
"What happened to the passage?" Eve repeated.
"David might have untethered part of the fort from reality," Jake said. "But he's pretty sure he can fix it."
Alex stared at him. "That's new. Is it as bad as it sounds?"
"It ain't better," Jake mumbled.
"How long will it take to fix?" Eve demanded.
"I don't know if I can fix it," David said, shaking his head as he ran his hand over the closed door. "This ain't an exact science. What I did—opening the door for you—that messed with a dozen different spells anchoring the hallway to the Curator's office. Those spells took weeks to set up, and I just forced my way through them in a couple of minutes."
"What does that mean for the fort?" Jones asked, casting an uncertain look at the ceiling, as though it might collapse on them at any moment.
"It means the same thing I've been saying this whole time," David said. "We should leave."
Alex nodded, his eyes darting from David to Jake to the other Librarians. "Great, let's go. Where's Eliot?"
Jake glanced at Eve, who looked away, and ice shot down Alex's spine. "Where is he?"
"Buying us time," Eve said. Her eyes were dark, her expression closed, but Alex didn't care about that. All he heard was buying in the present tense, and it was enough.
"Where?" he asked.
"It doesn't matter," David said. "Even if you could get him away, he wouldn't be in any condition to—"
Jake reached out and gripped the other man's hand with a grim smile. "Thanks for this," he said quietly. "It's more exciting than bidding on art you never get to own, right?"
"Don't be stupid, Jake. You can't save him."
Jake grinned. He released David's hand and turned to Alex, rolling his shoulders. "Wanna go fight a shadow monster?"
Alex smirked and slapped his hand to Jake's shoulder. "I'd love to."
