Page 17 of Gifted Destiny (Hidden Libraries #3)

Bren

I have promised to forfeit my life in a magically binding oath twice in seven days. This might be considered a disturbing trend, but I don’t regret anything. Both contracts offer me the possibility to stay at the library with Zosia and my fellow guardians.

My brother and I have always been close, but the other two guardians played important roles in my visions as well. They are important to Zosia, but I also enjoy their company – which is rare for me. Kodi’s dry humor is entertaining, and Avery’s single-minded devotion to the library is inspiring. His intelligence offers keen insight into any battle, regardless of his visual differences.

I should be exhausted, but I’m not. My body continues to thrum with the increased adrenaline from my magical outburst. The explosions always culminate in this frenetic energy or a state of lethargy and melancholy.

When Zosia finally relents to Garrett’s requests, I decide to wander among the stacks and peruse helpful books. If I didn’t find my brother’s game so adorable, I’d reveal his subterfuge. While it’s true that he’s always expressed an interest in physical therapy, I’ve never known him to be interested in an injury that isn’t sports-related.

His play-acting is probably an excuse to get to know her without everyone listening in, but I can’t blame him for the minor deception. Our sphinx is remarkably dissimilar from the women in our usual circles. Her lack of interest in his wealth and status probably throws him off, and he probably finds her honesty intimidating or refreshing.

I hope their time together brings them closer. Garrett has an opportunity to begin eroding her insecurities and convince Zosia that she’s not as hideous as she believes. I’m grateful this task doesn’t lie solely upon me because I lack the patience. I just want her to believe me when I tell her she’s beautiful.

While a massage will help her tight muscles and anxiety, the one-on-one time will also provide Zosia with a relaxed impression of my brother. In private, she’ll see that he isn’t really an asshole; his rough exterior hides a gooey interior.

Zosia isn’t the only one with insecurities. Addington was always disappointed in his heir’s appearance. Garrett isn’t considered handsome in the classical sense, and he’s never had the lean build of our father. Before his obsession with weightlifting, he ate for comfort. Cooks and other household staff snuck desserts and processed food to him after a particularly trying day.

Although his workout regime began because of Addington’s fat-shaming, my brother’s motivations swiftly changed. The intense routine offered control and discipline. Since he had little control over the rest of his life, he clung to the new habits with an extreme diligence that bordered on obsession.

The alpha continued to be disappointed. Addington regarded Garrett’s increased musculature as a lewd display of power. Realizing that our father would never be satisfied, my brother ramped up his efforts to spite the narcissistic shifter. Over time, however, Garrett’s reasons became his own. The self-control and image became integral to his identity.

I blink. I don’t know how long I’ve been standing on the fifth-floor landing while my mind wanders, but I reset my focus and begin sprinting up the stairs two at a time. In our previous life, I ran several miles a day. I don’t necessarily like running, but it offered a certain freedom. When I started the habit, I imagined I was running away from Addington and his expectations. Some days, it required substantial effort to run towards home instead of away. I always found a different route for the return because retracing my steps felt like a failure. As an added bonus, people generally don’t speak to runners.

Although I no longer need to escape, the physical effort is a good reminder. Sometimes, I forget that I occupy a fleshy shell because my brain overpowers all else.

My heart rate increases, but I’m not struggling to catch my breath by the time I reach the top of the stairs. I consider doing another lap just for fun but remind myself that I’m here for a reason. If any research on the transference process exists, it will be on these shelves. Zosia’s mental library doesn’t include every title on the tenth floor.

I could live on this level if the others visited occasionally. The whole of the library shivers with magical energy, but this floor vibrates. The protective spells saturate the air with power and create a peculiar resonation, like a tuning fork, as the ambient magic interacts with mine. The result isn’t unpleasant.

“Welcome, young mage.” The tenth floor’s dedicated goblin pops into existence and greets me in a calm voice. His presence nearly sends me hurtling back down the stairs. I hadn’t expected his appearance to be so prompt, and I’d been distracted – like usual.

“Greetings, Fin,” I manage as I regain my balance and slip off my shoes. Meanwhile, my heart pounds against my ribs.

The goblin probably knows the reason I’m here, but he just hovers in midair and stares at me. All of the goblins are aware of what happens in the library, but Fin doesn’t offer information as readily as his wife and … brother-husband? I’m uncertain of the correct term for Gilly’s two mates.

“I seek ways to prevent my imminent death,” I announce cheerfully as I step fully onto the etched planks. The wood hums under my feet.

“I see.” The goblin’s expression turns thoughtful, as if I’ve just presented a complicated riddle. “There are multiple books on each of the library’s floors that would address that topic. However, since you came here, I assume you’re specifically referring to the magical transference process.”

My mind is instantly diverted as I conjure ways to avoid death in every subject – history, science, literature, art ….

A physical shake of my head doesn’t rattle my thoughts into the correct places, but the habit brings me back to the moment. “Correct on both points.”

Fin’s strange eyes reflect the orange and red security runes as he contemplates the tenth floor’s arsenal. He lacks brows, but his forehead crinkles into a similar frown. “We possess books on the transference of magic, but many only offer obscure theories. We don’t have anything that specifically addresses the power of a cosmic mage. Your abilities live in a class of their own, as you’ve been told, and there are no accounts of this power being surrendered willingly. The books that discuss stealing power from objects or people have been sealed for reasons you can probably guess.”

I nod absently, but my mind is stuck on something else he said. “Cosmic mage?”

Fin ignores this particular question, but he’s unwittingly offered another option. The goblins are deep wells of information. This one might know more than a book if I can convince him to reveal his secrets.

I’m debating how to ask when he pirouettes in midair and begins leading me through the maze of shelves. When we turn a corner, I notice the bookcases are arranged differently from our last visit. When all of us came, the shelves formed the same orderly lines as the other floors. This time, we wander a labyrinthine path formed from the varied lengths and heights of the furnishings. The dim lighting and magical symbols enhance the mysterious ambiance.

“You may be leading me somewhere, but the answers might be right here. I think you know more than the vague books you mentioned. My magic isn’t patient and Zosia needs my strength.” I say the words quietly, but the secret will only keep as long as my magic does.

Fin glances back at me but continues to carve a straight path through the maze. His wings maintain a constant speed, and he turns corners without looking. I can’t hold his regard for long.

“This is a problem, isn’t it?” he asks after what seems like a very long time. I feel like we’ve just walked in a circle.

I squint toward him with confusion and try to remember the question I asked. Maybe it was different than I thought? “Of course a magical eruption is an issue. We realized that today. What are you referring to?”

Fin’s unnatural gaze turns away, and I’m again presented with his back, although it’s hidden behind his strange wings. I can’t determine the material that composes them. They appear leafy in color and texture, but they shine like dragonfly wings. Depending on speed, they rustle like a forest canopy or hum like a hummingbird.

“Your magic is an issue, but we’ve already addressed that. It’s why you signed a contract and why you came to me. I refer to the other problem.”

“Other problem?” I parrot.

“Our librarian’s strength,” he says without any detectable emotion. “You are not the only one worried. The trauma she suffered disrupted the flow of her physical and mental reserves. Sphinxes have greater stamina and vigor than most supernaturals. They require it because being a librarian with four guardians and navigating the politics of the supernatural community are exhausting tasks. The fact that she’s alive right now is a testament to her fortitude, but she hasn’t drawn upon her reserves in years. She didn’t need to.”

His words stop my forward motion. It’s the first time anyone, human or otherwise, has indicated that she might not be perfect for her role. “I thought being a librarian was in her blood.”

Fin halts with me, but his wings flutter faster with agitation. “Of course it is. No one alive can do a better job than Zosia Abram.” He pauses to ensure I’m listening before he continues. “I am not saying she isn’t capable, young mage. I am saying that Destiny does not err. There is a reason you are one of her guardians.”

The goblin’s strange eyes seem to pierce my soul. My intuition suggests he’s not instructing me to force the bond like everyone else. “Everything happens for a reason,” I murmur. I believe the Bible is credited for the original, but it, like many other quotes, has become more cliché than wise saying.

Fin spins away from me and zips down the aisle. He turns the corner so rapidly that I run to catch up. My feet slide on the wooden floor, but the planks are smoothly polished. There aren’t any splinters to snag the fabric of my socks.

“We worried Zosia would inherit issues from her mother. Karasi was different from the moment she was born. She didn’t like to read.”

I’ve caught up to the goblin now, and I sense the note of disapproving horror in his tone.

“Atanea was the perfect librarian, just like her mother before her, until Agustin disappeared. A part of her soul faded with him, and she couldn’t find this piece in her child.” Fin’s tone is thoughtful, but it doesn’t lack compassion. I’ve never heard the goblins speak of the guardians outside the archives.

I pounce upon the opportunity to learn more. The guardian’s disappearance haunts Zosia and leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I couldn’t imagine a guardian leaving, although Kodi’s recent departure provides the perfect example. “You must have met Agustin? Why did he leave?”

Fin shrugs, but his speed and direction don’t waver. Like many flying creatures, these muscles are entirely separate. “One day, he was here; the next day, he was gone. He didn’t act differently the day before; we had no warning. Atanea became obsessed over why he left. She lost interest in her duties and spent hours evaluating her memories for evidence. She couldn’t accept that she hadn’t realized he’d intended to betray her.”

The goblin seems to find this a mystery, but I understand. Zosia would do the same if one of us left after several years of happiness.

Fin whirls in midair, forcing me to stumble to a stop. His intent gaze makes me feel like he’s confiding in me. “The library can’t feel him any longer. Technically, his bond hasn’t been broken because we can’t prove his betrayal, but his soul is … absent. It’s different from those who have passed on to death or sentry duty.”

“What?” Kodi yells as he pops into the space beside us. I stumble backward into a sturdy bookcase that doesn’t appear to register my collision. I’d felt the ghost approach, but I’ve become so accustomed to his lurking presence that I’ve stopped paying attention. “Is Zosia’s grandfather still alive then?”

The goblin remains stoic, suggesting that he’s been aware of the ghost’s presence this entire time.

“Should we tell her?” Kodi turns to me when Fin doesn’t answer.

“We can’t exactly lie if she asks us about him.” My response is murmured absently because my mind is considering something other than our mate’s response. “Gone means no sign at all? Not dead or alive in this world?” I pause. “What was Agustin?”

“A vampire.” The goblin still holds my gaze, ignoring Kodi. My question was vague, but he knew precisely what I was asking.

“Don’t tell me that Avery might be related to him.”

I’m tempted to ignore Kodi too, but I answer while my brain processes something more important. “Relatives among vampires are a non-sequitur, Kodi, regardless of Avery’s natural birth. In addition, Avery wouldn’t have been able to mate with Zosia if they had any familial ties.” I hadn’t been the least bit concerned that Addington might have been Zosia’s father, either. Mates are bound by destiny, and destiny is driven to survive; the strength of the next generation keeps destiny relevant.

Fin nods in agreement, but he’s clearly as distracted as I am. While the ghost focuses on Zosia’s mates, the goblin and I contemplate the mystery of the past. We’re still capable of answering, however. “Correct. The vampire and sphinx are clearly mated, and mates don’t form true among relatives of the first or second degree.”

The goblin’s wings fold behind him as he lowers his body to the floor. It’s a rare position for them, and I sink to my knees to join him. I don’t know if he registers the movement because his eyes are glazed in memory. I haven’t heard him stumble into an accent at all today, and I wonder if he realizes he’s lost it.

“No one saw any signs that he was disgruntled. At the time, they’d been mated for about fifty years. Although relationships soften after many years, I’ve never seen it translate into a desire to leave. Happiness and joy evolve into contentment. I’ve seen it happen thousands of times, and nothing about this bond was different. None of Atanea’s guardians were unhappy despite the difficulty with Atanea’s pregnancy.”

Kodi melts into the floor next to me. I hope he’s more adept at memorizing the goblin’s words because Zosia will love hearing them. “I was closer to Agustin than the others, as often occurs with a group of guardians. Vampires sleep as little as goblins. Agustin had a knack for solving riddles, and he uncovered many of the library’s and the universe’s secrets without any help from me. I’ve often wondered if this made him a target, but he was equally safe.”

The goblin’s features are hidden by shadow, but his hat droops strangely. I’ve never seen their hats in any position but pointy and erect. Are they extensions of their bodies somehow? Is the object reacting to his mood? I want to touch it or ask questions, but I clamp my lips shut. The past is more important – for now.

“One winter’s night, I felt a bizarre ripple in reality – as if space-time were being altered. After that singular second in time, we could no longer feel him. Sage, Atanea, the other goblins, and his fellow guardians were similarly bereft.”

Sadness infuses the goblin’s voice, but I’m distracted by his choice of words. They echo repeatedly through my brain … a ripple in reality … space-time? Is he referring to the ones who meddle with time?

“Could he have been tethered?” Kodi asks. Considering his personal experience, it makes sense that he jumps to this conclusion.

Fin shakes his head automatically. “The tether wouldn’t hide him from us. Also, placing a tether on anyone inside these walls would be impossible, and Agustin never set foot outside. Tethers are invasive magic; they cannot combat the power of a contract.”

And yet, he is still gone. Have the so-called time meddlers found a way to circumvent the library’s power? A chill shivers down my spine at the possibility. If this is true, we’re not as safe as we believed ourselves to be.

I want to ask more questions, but Fin’s sudden flapping interrupts me. He rises to the topmost shelf. I lean backward to stare up at him.

“As you requested, young mage, I have led you to the tomes that mention magical transference. I’ve already conveyed my reservations regarding their value. Magic is the result of combining the will, skill, and intention of its user, making the user the most vital element. Instincts are a gift from Destiny, and sullying them with other’s knowledge might actually hinder you.”

My jaw drops open. Although I assumed he knew more than any book, I hadn’t expected to receive such clear instruction. Since he’s still a goblin, though, he ends the conversation with a riddle. “You must retain control while simultaneously surrendering it. Don’t fear for your librarian. The library will protect her.” Fin glances at Kodi. “She can’t do the same for you, ghost. You are the first spirit she’s allowed into her ranks, and there’s too much we don’t know about your physiology or existence.”

The depth of the goblin’s uncertainty is unsettling. The prospect that they knew everything had given me comfort and greater confidence. Lost in these thoughts, I barely notice it when Fin’s wings draw him back into the air. His calm tone draws my attention to the runes’ reflections in his glossy eyes. “There’s no joy in knowing everything, young mage. Once ye know everything, ye might as well be dead.” The brief resurgence of his accent is almost distracting. “Knowing almost everything can also be a curse. The information we crave the most is often that which eludes us.”

The juxtaposition of bittersweet irony and inescapable reality in this nugget of wisdom offers more comfort than it should. Instead of answering, though, I rise to my feet with him.

“The raw power of your cosmic magic will gift the sphinx with energy until you form your bond.” The goblin continues the previous subject as if we hadn’t detoured into philosophy.

I’m surprised the library doesn’t have excess magic, but the years without a librarian must have crippled her. This might be the true reason why Agustin disappeared. Robbing the library of a librarian seems like the coup ‘d’état for our enemies.

“Cosmic?” Kodi blurts. If the ghost were solid, I might hug him. Fin had ignored me earlier when I questioned his use of the word, and I’d nearly forgotten. “Those weird detectives called Bren a weather mage, Tremayne said atmospheric mage, and you say cosmic mage. Which one is he?” The ghost’s monotone gaze evaluates me as if he’ll find a label scribbled somewhere.

“Aye,” Fin replies. His unblinking gaze doesn’t give anything away, but I swear his lips twitch just before he vanishes.

“What in the actual …? Damn goblins,” Kodi mutters. “What’s a cosmic mage?”

“I have no idea,” I reply. I’m not as upset as I might have been because Fin’s wisdom is still with me. If I knew everything, life would be a tedious, purposeless affair. Garrett has always insisted that I’m a genius, but he must think differently now.

Still thrumming with magic, I scan the shelf’s titles. The goblin might think the books are unnecessary, but I welcome the steady reliability of black text on pale parchment. The texts might be a meal, but I can still scrounge for crumbs.

Kodi floats next to me. “If you overwhelm me, will it kill me?” His tone is worried and scared, but pouting is still his primary emotion.

“Something already dead cannot be killed.”

“You know what I mean,” Kodi whines. “Can you erase me? If I depart this plane as a virgin twice, I’m sure it will be some kind of historical record.”

He makes it seem like he’s only interested in sex, but it’s deeper than that. He loves Zosia as much as she loves him. He’s acting like his soul might be eternally scarred if they can’t explore the physical aspect of their love. It’s an adolescent’s mindset, but I don’t know enough about ghosts, spirits, or souls to reassure him.

I turn to face him, armed with one of the many books from the large selection.

“You’re going to hit me with a quote,” he pouts as my mouth opens. He staggers backward with his hands raised as if fending off a physical blow.

I blink. “How did you know?”

“Your face does the same thing that Zosia’s does when she’s about to tell me I’m an idiot.”

The comparison makes me smile. I know the look he refers to, but I define it differently. She’s beautiful when she accesses the library’s information and presents us with knowledge. “I consider that a compliment, and yes, I’m going to give you a quote. If I hold it in, it will hurt me.” The lie is a jest, but the library still flags it as dishonest. I continue, unperturbed. “Walt Whitman wrote, ‘Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.’”

“That one is pretty, but it doesn’t answer my question. They never do, you know.”

I shrug. “That’s not why I recite them.” I open the book I grabbed and start scanning the text, but my eyes blur when I try to concentrate. My magic is humming too loudly for me to pay attention. “It’s not my intention to erase you. Not only would it upset Zosia, but I’ve also grown to like you despite your constant complaining.”

He complains that he doesn’t complain, but I ignore him and flip through the small book again. I only parse a few words, but it doesn’t matter. This particular book might have a title that refers to magical transference, but it’s actually a treatise on banding together for the common good. My lips tilt into a smile.

“Well played,” I murmur aloud. The credit might belong to the goblin, the library, or both, but it doesn’t matter. It only helps me make up my mind. The comment confuses Kodi, but I don’t give him time to question. “Are you ready, ghost?” I close the book and place it back into its original spot.

Kodi’s dark-gray eyebrows nearly reach his light-gray hairline. From the glimpses I’d gathered, he’s actually a redhead. In this form, though, he resembles a moving black-and-white photograph. “Wha- …? Right now?”

Fin believes that intention and attitude influence intention, so I inject my answer with confidence. “Why not? No time like the present. Let’s aim for a small amount and call it a practice run with three goals in mind. One, you’ll be solid enough to wake our lovely librarian. Two, the library can replace any energy she spends tonight. Three, she’ll have another bonded mate.”

Kodi flickers into solidity for a heartbeat. Apparently, he approves. “Is it safe?”

I chuckle. “Practice runs rarely are. But I have control over my magic right now, and it seems good to try when my magic isn’t on the verge.” My admission borders on a lie but still emerges with honesty. The manic energy within me suggests that a discharge will happen sooner rather than later. Trying to control it and transfer it is preferable to another explosion. If I lose control again, a contract won’t save me.

Kodi throws up his hands. “Fine. Let’s do it. What do I need to do?”

“We’ll go to the stairwell that leads to the roof. There aren’t any books to damage if something goes wrong, but it’s still magically protected as part of the library. The rooftop is also protected, but it feels too exposed.” I plan aloud as we walk and thank the stars that Garrett is occupied right now. He would hate this.

Kodi hovers so close that I’m practically giving him a piggyback ride. The static prickle of his magic is similar to my sparks. “You just need to be a sponge and open yourself up to absorb my magic. If you push it away, everything will fail. It will probably feel … strange … at first. Try not to stop me unless you feel like you’re slipping away. You remember what that feels like, right?”

Kodi nods. His expression is dark, but I can’t tell if it’s from the memory of being tethered and drained or if he’s worried. I can’t focus too much on his reaction or I’ll lose faith in myself.

In an effort to convince both of us that we’re on the right track, my lips begin reciting quotes. “‘Analysis kills spontaneity. The grain once ground into flour springs and germinates no more.’”

“Another quote?”

“Of course. Credit is owed to a Swiss philosopher you’ve never heard of. His name is Henri Frederic Amiel. Another of his is – ‘Uncertainty is the refuge for hope.’ He should really be more widely known, especially when considering spontaneous risks.” I might be rambling but I speak the truth. The lesser-known poets and philosophers have provided more guidance than the famous ones.

Kodi doesn’t respond as we enter the dimly lit stairwell together. The click of the door behind us echoes in the stone passage. Magical runes glow inside the lines of mortar and etched on the steel railings. I don’t remember seeing them earlier today when we sought shelter here, and I consider it a signal proclaiming the library’s support.

The stone floor feels cold, and I look down with surprise. I’d left my shoes behind on the tenth floor. Oh well; they’re not necessary for this.

When I turn around, the ghost is only inches from my face. He takes a step back when he realizes this is our destination. I suck in a deep breath, delightfully surprised to inhale Zosia’s feline and human scents from earlier today. My brother’s smell also lingers, but I focus on hers. It reminds me why we’re doing this.

“Are you ready?”

“No?” Kodi’s answer isn’t an answer, but I sense cautious and hopeful excitement alongside his fear. We both need this to work.

“I need a moment to center myself,” I tell him as I close my eyes and recall every morsel of knowledge I possess. I need to focus on modulating the magic flowing through me. I must be a conduit rather than a generator. Magic is infinite and enigmatic, so I search for a reasonable comparison and settle on emotion. When I’m overwhelmed by intense emotions, I choose what to reveal and what to hide. It was a necessary survival skill throughout my childhood. Addington believed suffering qualified as a useful teaching mechanism and hurting me satisfied him. I’d learned how to bury my discomfort and release it slowly and carefully, like holding my breath underwater. I only released enough to ease the pressure.

My eyes pop open. “I know what to do. Remember what I said. Don’t push away the magic unless you feel like it’s causing you to fade. If you deflect my power, it might erupt again. If it does, the BSP will arrest me, and Zosia will never forgive herself.”

Kodi scowls but doesn’t call me out on my manipulative language. The library doesn’t flag them as dishonest, and he understands that she represents our motivation.

“I think you’ll know when you feel full. If I don’t stop on my own, imagine kissing Zosia. It should make you solid enough to punch me. Any physical blow will snap me out of it.”

Kodi nods. “Got it.” His newfound confidence is bolstered either by mine or in anticipation of spending the night in Zosia’s bed. The reason doesn’t matter.

“Good. I need consent.” When his eyebrows scrunch together, I shrug and expound on the impulsive idea. “Just give me permission to imbue you with magic. I feel like it’s important.”

“Okay. I, Kodi the ghost, hereby give Brennan Kennard permission to transfer some magic to – into – me.” He declares it like a medieval herald at a joust.

“And I, Brendan Kennard, give Kodi the ghost permission to accept my magic.” Our dramatic exchange feels like two kids on a playground exchanging a blood oath over a paper cut, but the words still carry importance. After they are spoken, I feel more prepared to begin.

With one last nod toward my partner in crime, I close my eyes and locate my magic. This part isn’t difficult. The bright, swirling nexus of power vibrates at a familiar frequency. Although the bulk of my magic is compressed just below my sternum, it exists throughout my body. An unnamed blood cell, the force hitches a ride through my arteries and veins. As a spare electron, it sparks between the electrical synapses of my nervous system. As a sixth or seventh sense, it provides me with sensory input and output.

When my power overflows, neon-blue sparks fly from my body. Earlier today, when I’d recovered enough awareness to study Zosia as she held me and calmed me, I’d noticed that her reddish-gold hair shimmered with bright blue light. I don’t know whether she’d absorbed the magic or it had simply been a reflection, but I use the color to help me visualize my power.

Intuition cautions me against just pushing , so I create a singular path for the blue current. With great care, I imagine my magic flowing from my chest to my right shoulder and down my right arm. When the river of magic nears my wrist, I open one eye. Kodi’s fingertips are close enough to touch if he were solid.

Infusing my will with intention, I create a picture in my mind’s eye. I see him accept and absorb my power. I see him gain enough solidity to bond with our shared mate. Then, I go a step further and envisage the library absorbing everything that the ghost can’t or doesn’t.

With my desired outcome firmly in place, I cautiously release the last tenuous hold I have over my magic. As I do, I include a silent, pleading prayer. The library is my higher power, as is Destiny. I beg them both for assistance. I ask only that they help me or stop me before I make a mistake that will harm others.