Page 59 of Dragon Compelled
Blossom folds her arms. “Maybe I misjudged him.”
Mag snorts. “Only you would feel like you misjudged a murderer.”
“I don’t think he killed her,” I tell them. “When I told him that I had no idea how to remove a council member, he said that I didn’t understand the depth of my power as head librarian.”
“Did he bother to help you figure it out?” Mag questions.
“Apparently, his manual didn’t come with instructions on that subject.”
“Of course not.” Blossom groans. “Because that would be too easy.”
“The point is, I feel like I’m failing at every turn. Like the library is counting on me to protect it and I’m missing something vital. Something as simple as this history lesson about mages and renewable magic.” I point to the screen. “It feels like the answer is right in front of my nose and I’ve overlooked it.”
“It’s not your fault, Paige. You were thrust into this,” Mag says.
“He’s right.” Blossom crosses her arms. “You weren’t given any instruction on how to run this place. Hell, you weren’t even an official keeper yet.”
“Then why did the library choose me? Why pick someone with no experience to run something that could potentially lead to the end of the world as we know it?”
Blossom shakes her head. “Don’t start with that shit again. You are too burdened by everything you’re facing. If you could focus on one thing right now—one problem—you might be surprised at the solution.”
“So, stop trying to fix everything all at once?” I muse. “That’s easier said than done.”
“It is.” Blossom chuckles. “But if you leave the library’s security to us, as is our job, and focus only on learning how to fill the roll this place has called you to, then maybe more will become clear.”
“You need to cut yourself some slack,” Mag says. “You accidentally freed a dragon then, while you were trying to put him back on your own, discovered a man trying to rain chaos down onto us. Then, you lost the man you considered a father, were thrown into the one and only leadership role in this place, and have been attacked—verbally—by a councilwoman who is now also dead.” He shakes his head. “It’s a lot to happen in the matter of a few weeks.
I know he’s right. But there’s this inkling of awareness at the edge of my consciousness. Like an itch I can’t quite reach. Using my power to bring Hoc out of the book awakened it, and now I can’t put the power back in the box it came in.
Fear and doubt in myself have driven me to shove it down deeper, but maybe that’s the problem. Maybe, me running from my power has led me to ignore the new magic granted to me by the library. Or the magic I’ve been carrying inside me all along.
What if Blossom’s right? What if the two need to, I don’t know, talk to each other?
“Focus on one thing,” I repeat Blossom’s idea and she stops kneading my shoulders to come around and stand in front of me again.
“Yes.”
“We’ll keep the library from burning down around us,” Mag jokes. “You deal with the council, and as soon as they’re gone and that problem is solved, we’ll turn our attention to tracking the bastard and bringing him to justice.”
* * *
Aries is standingat the window of my apartment when I walk in. He barely seems to notice me as he stares out at the world beyond. Without a word, I cross the distance between us and lean into him as he wraps an arm around my shoulders.
Outside on the street below, humans walk happily by, not at all realizing that their potential demise lurks within these walls. There’s a part of me that once longed for that type of naivety. For a fleeting second, I consider a future where the council removes me and I get to, not only leave this place but unlearn everything I know. The idea of having my memories wiped is so tempting in this moment. I could start over.
I could be happy.
Except I wouldn’t be happy, not really, because I wouldn’t know Aries.
I glance up at my dragon king. If I hadn’t met him and all of this had happened, I honestly might be begging the council to steal away my memories. To wipe my knowledge of this place and Hoc’s death. But forgetting the man who brought color into my life, who taught me what it meant to be cherished, is not something I can ever suffer through.
Aries looks down at me and I note the pain in his crystal blue eyes. “What is it?”
“What do you mean?” The pain is gone, a flash of emotion that makes me wonder if I might have imagined it.
“You look upset.”
“There’s a lot going on,” he replies. Something in his tone is off, though.
