“Harmless.”
Leaving my clipboard and pen on the side table with the lamp, I went over to the couch and laid down, lumpy pillow under my head. I was short enough to barely need to bend my legs to fit, and the couch was plenty deep enough for me. Being comfortable made it easy for my eyes to slide shut, my body succumbing to sleep.
***
I woke myself up by falling off the couch.
One half of me, at least. My legs stayed up, while my top half slid down to the floor. I was lucky my nose didn’t hit the ground, especially considering my poor nose had already taken a beating today. I’d avoided looking at it, but it might be bruised or swollen.
Pushing myself up and back onto the couch, I disentangled the soft, thick blanket from my legs and pulled the fabric up around my neck to ward off the chill. Night had fallen, and the library was dark now except for a single lamp turned on beside the door.
Come to think of it, I hadn’t turned the lamp on. And this blanket hadn’t been with me when I fell asleep.
A smile slipped across my face and I glanced up at the hole in the wall, silently thanking him. Nice or not, I wouldn’t be thanking him aloud until I was one hundred per cent certain he was awake.
Stretching out my body, I moved over to the corner I’d been working on. There were probably a hundred more books to go before I’d finished with the area directly beside the lamp. The idea of continuing to work was utterly unappealing, but the sooner I did it, the sooner I would get out of here. With a sigh, I pulled out the next book on the shelf.
And stared at the cover.
A man and woman in rich green Dosyazen period clothing were staring lovingly at each other, with swirling letters for the title. The woman’s dress covered her from chin to ankles, her hands clad in black silk gloves, while the man was wearing a black tunic with fancy green buttons that were common at the time. The front cover was well-worn, creased and peeling in places, and the pages were yellow and curled. Mom had a copy of this exact book. Heck, this exact edition. She’d read it and reread it hundreds of times, calling the historical romance her ultimate comfort read. I’d never been allowed to read the book. She said I could borrow her copy when I was eighteen.
Shortly after I’d turned eighteen, they’d both died, and I’d forgotten all about it.
Her copy was stuffed in a box somewhere, pushed to the back of the storage room at Solstice’s apartment. They’d been dead for ten years, and some boxes I couldn’t bring myself to open and sort through.
“This library is definitely fucking with me,” I whispered to myself.
I went back to sit on the couch with the book, tapping the rune on the lamp beside me. The details were easier to make out, and when I pulled open the front cover, I could read perfectly.
Keep reading, Mary!
I’m so grateful to have you as a fan.
Jeanna Holt
The author’s signature was written in handwriting so artistic I wouldn’t have been able to read her name if it hadn’t been on the front cover. Mary was my mother. I wouldn’t put it past her to have a second copy signed and placed in safekeeping, but I was confused about how Uncle Felix had copies of my childhood memories. The doll. The lamp. Her book. Had he been raiding my storage for years, and I hadn’t known? I wouldn’t know, really, because I’d been avoiding dealing with the items. But I’d been to Solstice’s recently, and the lamp was still there, so the one in this room had to be a replica.
I turned a few more pages to the start of the first chapter and curled into the corner of the couch. This book felt like a clue, and Ihadalways wanted to read it.
Every page drew me in. Romance, intrigue, angst. Forbidden love, because everything was forbidden in the Dosyazen era, of course. The Dosyazen monarchy had been in power four hundred years ago, prior to the civil war that split the kingdom into the two regions we had today: Dosya and Azen. Under the rule, women had all the power but were expected to behave in a certain way, including full coverage clothing and refraining from unnecessary sexual activity. I knew nothing about historical romances, but as far as I could tell, the book was fantastic. It took elements of the time and crafted a story that taught me more than any history text at the Grand Library, though with plenty more risqué scenes than I would ever find among those pages. I’d gotten through half the book before my stomach growled at me, aching with hunger.
I hadn’t eaten since my late breakfast. The idea of rice or pasta didn’t sound appealing, but I’d rather not starve.
Placing the book open and face down on the side table, I searched for something to use as a bookmark. I ripped a strip off the bottom of a blank piece of paper and went to slide it in to save my place, when something fluttered down from between the pages.
A photo.
The aged photo paper landed face up on the ground. I forgot about saving my place, putting the book down. Their faces were staring up at me. Mom and Dad.
Tentatively, I picked up the photo from the ground, careful in case the paper was old and degraded. This picture had to be at least twenty years ago, if not longer. My parents had been forty-eight and fifty when they died, and in this they were grinning at the camera, not a speck of grey in their hair. The quality wasn’t great, physical photos never were, but I couldn’t see any of the wrinkles they’d had when I’d been in high school.
I flipped the photo over, eyebrows crinkling at the handwriting on the other side. Messy words scrawled in nearly illegible handwriting. Neither of my parents had cursive like that, so maybe this had been Uncle Felix’s copy of my mom’s favourite book? It was possible he’d placed the photo of them between the pages for safekeeping.
I’d worked out the cursive writing was my parent’s names when I felt a sharp pinch on the back of my neck. My hand went up to grab at the spot, but everything instantly went fuzzy. I couldn’t force my fingers to function how I wanted them to, or my arm to lift. Pain radiated from the site of the initial pinch, but every other part of my body was numb.
That couldn’t be good.
I didn’t have time to process what had happened before the entire world went black.
