A Sudden Turn of Events

Photo by Jp Valery on Unsplash

The knock broke the quiet, causing Sardis to flinch and his pen to skip across the page. He scowled at the blots as they vanished. Niall, a brilliantly red and green feathered lizard, was curled in his bed on the desk. He lifted his head and chirped. His wings rustled, as if he was thinking of getting up.

“You can stay here,” Sardis replied, setting the pen aside.

He stood and took a moment to collect himself, brushing a bit of dust off his tunic. Visitors didn’t appear often, after all, and he liked to look at least presentable. Satisfied, he went to answer the door.

A thin young woman in a yellow dress stood on the threshold. A fine netting of topazes was draped over her head. “Um. Hello.”

“Hello.” Sardis tried to smile at her.

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Is-is this Mistress Meryl’s shop?”

Sardis frowned. People either found the Library on purpose or found it by accident. And if they found it by accident, it was because they were running from something. “No. This is not Mistress Meryl’s shop.”

“N-no, I didn’t think so.” She looked over her shoulder. “I don’t know—I just turned a corner—I was in a city. How—”

A suspicion wiggled in a dark corner of Sardis’ mind, sending a chill through him. If she wasn’t running from something, or purposefully searching him out, then that meant someone or something drew her. And only one suspect came to mind.

He said, “If you turn around now—” In the connection between him and Library, Sardis reached out, pulling on the proper cords of energy. “—you will find your way to Meryl’s shop.”

The young woman looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, there stood a dark blue door, though it appeared unattached from any walls or building. However, she didn’t run to it straight away. She hesitated. Turned. Craned her head to look past Sardis, to the mysteries beyond him, curiosity painted across her face.

“Not for you,” Sardis said, slamming the door shut.

His heart pounded against his sternum. Sardis leaned against the door, half-fearing another knock. Moments ticked by, turning slowly into minutes. Niall, head up and alert, watched him.

Finally, Sardis straightened and eased the door open. He peeked outside. The girl and the door were gone.

A long sigh escaped him. He shut the door.

A book fell from a stack on a nearby table, landing in front of him. Sardis slowly bent and picked it up.

Of its own accord, the book opened, pages turning to a section with the heading ON THE ACQUIRING OF AN ASSISTANT. Sardis snapped the book closed.

The Library was fully capable of drawing people to itself. Just as it had surely drawn him once, though he barely remembered that. He set the book on the table.

He returned to his desk, picked up the pen, and went back to writing. Niall settled into his bed, closing his eyes with a small grumble. Quiet settled like snow.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

One of Niall’s eyes opened. With a groan, Sardis dropped the pen. He stared hard at what little had been written. Maybe, if he didn’t answer, they would go away.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Sometimes, the Library communicated with Sardis. It possessed, after all, an intelligence of its own, and a certain amount of will and wisdom. Perhaps a lot of the two. And it seemed that the Library was very bent on foisting an assistant on him.

Bang. Bang. Bang. A muffled voice: “Hello? I’m lost. I can see smoke coming out of the chimney, so I know someone’s there.” The doorknob rattled. More banging.

Niall stared at Sardis, as if to say, “Aren’t you going to get that?”

With a small growl, Sardis got up and went to the door.

This time, a stocky, older man stood there. A grizzled-grey beard hung from a broad face. He wore red flannel and smelled like pipe tobacco.

“Hi there,” said the man. “I was out in my garden and seem to’ve takin’ a turn.” Like the yellow-dress girl, he looked over his shoulder at the forest beyond the clearing and the distinct lack of any footpaths or roads. “I’ve takin’ one hell of a turn.”

Same as before, Sardis pulled on the cords, but it was harder this time. It felt as if the Library was fighting him. But the door appeared all the same.

“If you go through there,” Sardis said, pointing, “you will find home.”

The man grunted. He looked beyond Sardis’s shoulder. “What’s, uh, back there? What kinda place is this?”

“A place not for you.” He slammed the door closed.

The silence that followed rang with disapproval. Displeasure. It felt weighty and altogether too cool.

When Sardis opened the door again, the man was gone. “I’ll be back, Niall.”

Sardis left the cottage, closing the door firmly behind him. He strode toward the woods.

The woods contained the same stoney silence as the Library. This made sense. In a way, the woods were also part of the Library. It was all the same energy and power, what the uneducated would call ‘magic.’

Sardis, Niall, and the other residents existed in a place beyond time, in a nexus of all the multiverses. There was, really, no forest or cottage or sunlight. But God knew they needed these things to be sane, so there was a forest, and a cottage, and sunlight. And hot cocoa, which Sardis was very much craving.

Eventually, he reached a large oak tree, its trunk many feet thick. The roots rose up out of the ground like gnarled fingers spreading outward. Sardis sat on a particularly flat one. A little bench.

He wasn’t there very long before a woman settled onto the wood beside him. She wore pine green and smelled like the air before a rain.

“It’s been a long time,” Drusilla said, “since you’ve visited me. Usually, I visit you.”

“I needed some fresh air.”

“Oh.” She looked out at the woods. “Things are oddly quiet today.”

He stared hard at the ground.

Drusilla didn’t say anything, only waited. She had known him for many centuries. Or, what would be centuries if time actually passed here. At any rate, she knew him enough to know that pushing him for answers would do nothing.

Finally, Sardis said, “I’ve had two visitors today.”

“Two?” Her dark brows rose. “One is enough for comment. Two in a single day is extraordinary.”

He grunted. “I—I think the Library is trying to tell me something.”

She waited, her expression gentle. Sardis so wanted to reach out to take her hand. But he didn’t. He never did. He wasn’t sure why, but in the moments when he could show her affection, the space between them felt leagues larger than it was.

Sardis looked away from her. “I think the Library wants me to have an assistant.”

“Good. I’ve been after you for some time to get one. Remember that day Niall came to get me because you had worked yourself into exhaustion?”

“I remember.”

“That was not the only time.”

“No.”

“What does the Book say? It is not good for man to be alone?”

“That is in reference to marriage.”

“I think it’s in reference to everything. It is not good to be alone. Even hermits need company every now and again.”

“I’m not alone. I can come here to visit you whenever I wish.”

“And do you?”

Sardis glanced at her and away.

Drusilla nudged him with her shoulder. “See. You need someone. To remind you to eat and to rest. To shoulder the burden of your task.”

“But…” He hesitated, misery welling in his chest.

“But what?”

“But what if the Library is trying to replace me? When I first arrived at that door, Bob was working alone. He took me on as his assistant. He said that when it was time for a new Librarian, the Library would draw someone to it. What if that is what is happening?”

“And if it is? You’ve been at this task for a long time. What would be wrong with retirement? I’m certain you wouldn’t be forced to leave.” Worry creased her brow. “You wouldn’t be, would you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

She took his hand in hers. She did her best to thread her five fingers through his six. For a moment, she said nothing, only looked at their joined hands. “Sardis, what would happen if you don’t accept an assistant?”

“I suppose the Library would keep pulling people to it.”

“And you would continue working too hard. You’ve lost weight, you know, these past few weeks.”

His tunics were a little looser than normal. “I’m fine.”

“No.” She raised her head to look at him. “You are not.”

Sardis gazed down at her. He was tired. And his appetite had slacked off. Sitting there, in the leaf-dappled sunlight, it was hard to ignore these truths.

“Drusilla,” he said, “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Maybe you are not ready to leave the Library. Maybe that isn’t what the Library wants. What we do know is that the Library wants you to have a second pair of hands. And I happen to agree.”

He thought about that as he studied the way the light caught reddish highlights in Drusilla’s. Slowly, he curled his fingers to better hold her hand.

They still held hands as they left the forest behind, re-entering the little clearing where the cottage stood. And there was another visitor, trying to peer through a window.

It was a young man, this time. A pack was slung over one shoulder. He wore a broad-brimmed hat and black hair curled around his ears and the back of his neck. His short tunic and loose pants were old, stained, and patched in a few places.

As they drew closer, the man turned around.

“Ho there,” he said. He swept off his hat and bowed slightly. “I seem to have lost my way.”

“You weren’t looking for this place?” asked Drusilla.

He smiled at her. “No, my lady. I’m only a wanderer. But how I wandered out here, I don’t know. These aren’t the woods of my kingdom.”

She smiled at him and tugged Sardis’s hand. Sardis bent his head toward her.

“I like him,” she whispered.

Sardis straightened and looked the young man over. If the stranger was bothered by his obvious inspection, he didn’t show it. And the Library was silent, not giving a single hint as to the young man’s identity. Sardis wasn’t sure if that was for a purpose or if the Library was simply angry with him.

Drusilla said, “This is Sardis. I am Drusilla.”

The man bowed a second time. “I’m called Malo. I hail from the Kingdom of Inlas.”

As if a door opened, information flowed into Sardis’ mind. Inlas was a kingdom of decent size, ruled by a young queen. There was a mix of races and religions in Inlas, though the Faith of the One God dominated. Inlas had known war and famine in recent memory, but ever since the queen came to power, there had been peace and food.

“Pleased to meet you, Malo,” Drusilla said.

Sardis blinked, realizing he had gotten a little lost for a moment. “Yes. Pleased to meet you.” He glanced down at Drusilla, who raised her brows at him. He checked a sigh. “Malo, would you like to come inside? I believe you were brought here for a reason.”

Malo’s face brightened. “Well, now. That is intriguing. Lead the way, good sir.”

Behind Sardis, bird song began again in the forest. A gentle breeze blew, bringing a faint scent of flowers.

As he led the way inside, Sardis thought, Perhaps things will be all right, after all.