Page 23 of Killian
“Down to the next level and the central branch.”
“Oh,” said Moira. “There are two levels to the library?”
Cynog laughed. “Two levels. You’re so funny. No, no, there are eight.”
“Are they all the same…” Moira struggled to come up with the appropriate adjective. “Size as this one?”
“This one is the smallest. You can walk across it in only two days. The levels are larger as you go down. Since I’m an acolyte, it’s my job to come up here to check that the shrines are flourishing and water the plants at the gates. When I move up to Collections Analyst, I’ll be able to go all the way down to level three. Only Collections Curators and Branch Librarians can go down to level one,” said Cynog. “They say it’s enormous. It’s the root of everything.”
“Oh,” said Moira. She had no idea how to respond to this information.
In fact, she had no idea how to respond to any of the things she’d witnessed or experienced since waking up. So, while there were some items in the win column, she couldn’t help feeling like maybe whoever had sent them on this adventure had chosen the wrong person. She had freaked out over bugs, a sprite had practically made her cry, and then there was the fact that she had gotten her face stuck as a wolf. She wanted a nap. And lunch. Or dinner. Or whatever meal it was. She wanted a giant steak and then a nap under some blankets where she could curl up next to Killian and block out the world—whichever world this was because it didn’t seem like hers—and have a peaceful few minutes to herself to think about things.
“Here we are!” chirped Cynog, his long hair swinging as he turned back them. He stepped off the trail and gestured to the clearing in front of them. Killian and Moira stepped forward, and Moira pursed her lips, trying to figure out what to say.
“That appears to be a hole in the ground,” said Killian.
“Yes,” said Cynog enthusiastically. She was starting to wonderif he did everything with that much fervor. Moira took another step closer and realized that the area in front of them wasn’t dark earth but was, in fact, just dark. The hole had a hazy, misty quality, but as if the mist was made of black material.
“It smells funny,” said Moira. “It smells like all the smell has been flattened out of it.”
Killian made a surprised noise. “Thatiswhat it’s like. How weird. I was trying to figure out how to describe it.”
“Really?” asked Cynog walking to the edge, apparently having no fear about falling in. “That’s so interesting. I will make a note of that!”
“Well, what does it smell like to you?” asked Killian.
“It smells like the stuff that libraries are made of.”
“And a little like grilling steak,” said Moira.
“Heh.” Killian nodded his agreement.
“Well, this is fascinating,” said Cynog. “I will await your thoughts on the other side with interest.”
“We’re not jumping, are we?” asked Killian.
“Oh, no. Top levels can be a little rough, and you would probably break everything. Maybe that would be fine for you, but I would not like to be dryad jelly. No, level eight is still quite young, so we’ll take a vine.”
He drew out a little flute-like whistle and blew into it. Moira and Killian both clapped their hands over their ears as the whistle note went up into the painful range.
“Oh. Sorry,” said Cynog grimacing. “Can you hear that?”
“Yes!” barked Moira. “And a little warning next time would be nice.”
Cynog looked at the whistle. “It’s a plant whistle. I didn’t think you’d be able to hear it. Sorry.”
Moira might have replied, but a moment later, a vine swung free of the nearest tree, wrapped around her waist, and flung her into the hole. Moira might have screamed. She wasn’t entirelysure.
There was an extended moment of nothing where she couldn’t even smell her own body, and then the vine deposited her, stumbling and breathless, onto some grass. Moments later, Killian and Cynog arrived beside her. She looked back and saw a similar black hole in a cliff face behind them.
“Are you all right?” demanded Killian, his face stern and his eyes sparkling with barely concealed anger. He cupped his hand around her cheek, searching her face for the answer.
“I’m fine,” she said breathlessly. Killian’s touch made her heart pound for an entirely different reason.
“Of course she’s fine!” chirped Cynog. “Just a quick jaunt between levels. Nothing to be concerned about.”
Killian’s response was a rumbling growl that vibrated his chest. She realized that he was displeased with how she had been treated, and that made her feel adored. She leaned to him, pushing her face into his neck, to get a reassuring sniff of him. He matched her gesture and kissed the top of her head, which she thought was just a way to smell her hair.
