Page 31 of Gifted Destiny (Hidden Libraries #3)
Zosia
“ H ere goes nothing,” I mutter. The simplicity of summoning one’s ancestors makes me irrationally irritated with the expectations I’ve garnered from movies and books. I don’t have to recite a difficult incantation, sacrifice a small animal, gather rare herbs, or promise my firstborn child …. I’m not complaining, just surprised.
I decide to ask aloud. It feels appropriate, even if I’m not chanting a complex spell. More accurately, they’re a desperate plea from a hopeful child. “Great Sphinx Librarians past, Grandmother Atanea Rae Abram, I beg your counsel.”
As I speak, I place my furry toes on the frame of the photo and focus on the noble face staring up at me. Our similarities are striking; she could easily be me in a hundred years. Bren chose Atanea’s sphinx form, and it’s more fitting than her human face. The sphinx represents an undeniable connection.
Several seconds of silence pass, and I fear the lack of a response signifies failure or rejection. Bren’s words from a day or so ago echo through my mind. Magic requires intention. I repeat the words again, infusing each one with purpose, hope, and the magic that fuels my bond with the library.
This time, the air shifts around us. The fur along my back stands at attention, and my furry tail follows suit until it puffs to twice its size. I don’t think I like it because it makes the appendage more noticeable, and I’ve grown accustomed to ignoring it. My inner knowledge indicates that lions don’t have the same ability, but lions don’t have wings either. Sphinxes are a unique species.
The puffing doesn’t serve a purpose except to amuse Bren. I want to roll my eyes at him, but he’s so cute in his childlike delight. I dread the day Kodi talks the others into pulling a prank on me. I imagine entering a room in feline form and encountering a huge box. Will they wager on whether I can resist climbing into it? I’ll have to prepare a suitable idea for revenge – just in case.
“Granddaughter.”
The word, whisper soft and toneless, startles me. Transparent smoke rises from the photo, reminding me too much of Kodi’s body when he was tethered. My chest clenches at the thought, and I wish I’d told him to join us until I remember the bond. It’s capable of doing more than projecting his boredom to me. Utilizing our link and slightly modifying what I’ve done with Avery, I share my vision with my ghostly mate.
The spirit coalesces slowly, gathering shape until she is a wispy figure sitting before me. As she gathers color from the inanimate objects around us, I list our differences, which are fewer than our similarities. Her eyes are more gold than blue, and her complexion is a shade darker than my bronze tone. Her face is lined and streaks of silver have replaced the gold in her hair. If I look like this in fifty or one hundred years, I won’t be disappointed. Atanea is regal and beautiful.
After I’ve studied her face, I examine the rest. Her musculature is less dense than mine, but her posture is straight. She doesn’t lean to one side because of an injured leg.
“You are brave to summon me, little one.” Her tone is noble and confident now that she’s fully formed. “You’ve displayed great courage during a tumultuous time, and your strength pleases us.”
I’m uncertain whether I hear the judgment in her words or if I’m conditioned by Mary to expect censure. Her comments also create more questions. Does she know what’s happened to me and why?
“I am honored and grateful that you met with me.” These are the only words that come to mind. I force them out before bombarding her with questions.
My emotions roil, but they’re tempered by my men. Garrett is also irritated by the sphinx’s words, Kodi is oblivious, and Avery is calm. Although Bren is difficult to read, his patience equals the vampire’s steadiness.
After a glance around the room and several seconds of silence, the older sphinx sighs. “Forgive me if I sound upset, little one. These tumultuous times are partially my fault. I also need to remind myself that you are not your mother. You look just like her.” Striations of blue overtake the gold in her eyes and reveal her sadness.
“Do you remember your mother? We have little insight into what happens outside these walls.”
“I have no memories of her. I’ve often wondered whether I have purposefully blocked them out or ....”
Atanea shakes her head, and her ears twitch before partially flattening against her head. “Your answer confirms a rumor we’d heard. I’d hoped it wasn’t true, but …. We heard that Karasi died during childbirth or shortly after. We believe that others took you in – members of a secret society that protects the libraries. They should have been more than capable of keeping you safe, however. We’ve heard very little about this failing.”
Kodi’s pain distracts me from the intriguing idea of a secret society. He still worries about his involvement in my capture. I remind him firmly that he was little more than a child and not to blame. I don’t hold him accountable for anything he might have been forced to do. The sharpness of his fear and anger wanes but doesn’t disappear. It’s something we’ll have to resolve later.
“You said that these tumultuous events are partially your fault. How?” Garrett’s question is polite but commanding. He stands with his legs spread apart and his hands clasped behind his back; the posturing makes him appear even larger. I note the second that recognition joins appraisal in her golden-blue eyes. Do my eyes change color as easily?
“I was too harsh with your mother, Granddaughter.” Her gaze returns to me as she answers Garrett’s question. “I was desperate for her to take her place as the next librarian and only succeeded in pushing her away. We knew what was at stake when the power shift occurred in the supernatural community. I knew the danger the library faced when their father became the Alpha.” Her gaze shifts toward the two men on my right, and her ears press flatly against her silver-streaked hair.
“Their presence isn’t simply coincidental or ironic, however. Jonathan Addington wanted your mother so badly that his attention drove her away as surely as my desperation. Still, you chose his sons as your guardians.” She nods toward the men who no longer identify as Addington’s sons before her gaze drifts to Avery. “Destiny might have guided them and you, Granddaughter, but you chose them. They are strong choices.”
I don’t know how to react. The five of us had recognized the strange circumstances connecting us, but we couldn’t alter the past or Destiny. If the outcome is the same, does it matter who – or what – orchestrated it?
“Please call me Zosia. I’m unaccustomed to family names,” I blurt. As usual, my request is abrupt and unfiltered.
Atanea’s lips curl, revealing the points of her sharp teeth. “As you wish, Zosia Aviram Abram. Karasi chose well when she named you. When the library informed us of your biological father’s identity, I wasn’t surprised. Your mother had very few male relationships, and I believe Karasi originally took Ansel as a lover to spite Jonathan. She developed some affection for the weaker shifter over time, however, and allowed your conception because she knew she wouldn’t survive long outside the library.” Atanea’s voice holds infinite sadness, although her expression barely changes.
I marvel at the fact that the dead woman is the only connection between us. My mother might be dead, but she still has a powerful effect on Atanea, the library, and me. Ansel is another who is still affected, too. He hadn’t believed my conception was intentional.
My gaze flickers toward the photo of my mother. The markings on her shoulders appear more visible now that I’ve seen her mother in person. Neither of us has them.
“Why does my mother have those stripes on her shoulders?” The question isn’t important, but I can’t help asking.
Atanea’s gaze follows mine. “She didn’t have the markings when she first shifted. They started on her sixteenth birthday – when she told me she wouldn’t become the next librarian. It wasn’t the first time she’d said it, but until then, her words were always considered a declaration of childish stubbornness. Thereafter, the stripes darkened and grew larger every time she denied her birthright. I told her they were a sign of Destiny’s disapproval, but it didn’t deter her. She wore them with pride.” The affection in the older sphinx’s voice is apparent despite Karasi’s transgressions.
I want to know more about my mother, but we contacted Atanea for a reason. “We have a dilemma and can’t reach Sage or the goblins. Do you know why? How much are you aware of?” I don’t want to explain every detail if it’s unnecessary.
“We know everything Sage knows,” the apparition replies smoothly.
“We?” It’s not the first time she’s used the pronoun. “My understanding is that Sage is a culmination of the librarians … and something more. But aren’t you a singular entity?”
My grandmother’s smile is feral and full of pointy teeth. Although she is dead and four times my age, she’s still formidable. I’m filled with amazed delight when I realize that I probably look the same, even with a crooked leg. It’s satisfying because I’ve appeared weak my entire life.
“I am never alone, child, just like you. I am connected to our ancestors, but my guardians’ spirits joined with mine in death. Except for Agustin ….” Her last few words are almost incoherent through grief, regret, and sorrow. The emotion overwhelms me to the point of tears, and my guardians are similarly affected. The concept that death will not part us is so bizarre that I push it aside to consider when our lives aren’t in imminent danger.
Bren steps up beside me. “Agustin didn’t leave, did he?”
Behind us, Garrett mutters an apology regarding his brother’s bluntness, but Atanea doesn’t seem to hear. Pain and sorrow settle into the lines on her face. It steals her color until she nearly resembles Kodi’s gray tone.
Several seconds pass before my grandmother is able to speak again. “You’re right. We never knew he was here all along, which is why it was easier to draw us from the library. We didn’t until your guardian opened that book. His soul is within, albeit altered. Once we felt his soul, we understood. We believe that my Agustin was trapped in the book by one of Addington’s mage followers, possibly his brother Walthers. The spell was triggered by someone today, perhaps a student, when the BSP detectives distracted the library and the librarian.”
As she speaks, Atanea’s strength returns. “Whoever set the trap didn’t care which one of my guardians they caught. Agustin was the unwitting prey. Likewise, our enemies didn’t care who found the book. Luckily, it was the ghost.”
“Walthers is Addington’s brother?”
“The BSP? Which student triggered the spell?”
“How do we help?”
Avery is the only one of us who remains silent. I’m surprised our target is able to separate and understand the three simultaneous questions. Instead of being taken aback, she appears amused.
“The relation is very secretive, more than I believed if Addington’s sons weren’t aware. I am positive they are brothers, however, although perhaps half-brothers, step-brothers, or by marriage.” Even without the bond, the brothers’ surprise is apparent; they truly had no idea.
“The BSP is not as infallible as it claims, which you have learned yourself. My memories are not as clear as they used to be, but I remember a similar situation when Agustin went missing. A BSP detective drew our attention away from the upper floors. When they arrived yesterday, I suspected nothing good would come from their involvement. However, they possessed a reasonable excuse this time.” The older sphinx’s gold-blue eyes inspect Bren, but he’s lost in his thoughts and staring at nothing. “I can’t say which student it was. The threat to the contract book distracted all of us.”
Atanea pauses before answering the last question, and I brace myself for bad news. “As for how you can help ….” She sighs, her wings drooping. “I am ashamed that I can’t offer precise instructions for nullifying the magic and freeing my guardian’s soul. I can only tell you what I know. Sage has distanced herself from the collective of sphinxes and you. She senses more malevolence within the spelled artifact.”
I have to exercise significant control to compartmentalize the information and not derail our current investigation. I’ve been acting under the assumption that Sage is the collective of sphinxes. I suspected she was more because she existed before the first sphinx’s death, but Atanea’s words suggest she is a wholly separate entity. What is she?
My grandmother’s voice recaptures my attention. “That spell was meant to kill the one who found it. Your ghost guardian’s unique attributes saved you from losing a newly formed bond. If they’d succeeded, you and the library would have been half-defeated. In hindsight, this might be the reason your ghost was lured away and tethered twice; they didn’t want him to find the book. This is a victory, Granddaughter.”
The impact of the name is lost under my best friend’s smug pride when he hears Atanea’s praise. He loves playing the hero.
It makes perfect sense once I quell my discomfort regarding her intimate knowledge of my life. Just how much can she and the others see? I reassure myself that Sage must have rules and ethics regarding the invasion of privacy; she made the bedrooms soundproof, and they are likely secure in other ways. Furthermore, my grandmother probably has the same amount of interest in her granddaughter’s sex life as I do in hers –none.
“Is there no way to destroy the book and free your guardian?” Avery’s question is softened by his empathy and compassion.
My grandmother’s wings droop again. “My limited understanding suggests that you can’t destroy the book or the spell without destroying the soul. My guardian has been lost for many decades, and I must resign myself to the idea that he’ll remain so. We believe that a slim thread of his former soul remains untouched. We fear that this shred prevents Sage from destroying the book because she can’t harm a guardian who hasn’t betrayed her. It’s also possible that this element of purity is also preventing former damage. This trace of his former self must be weary; it will be impossible to preserve.” My grandmother’s tone is resigned, and I imagine she’s been preparing for this eventuality since her death.
“What about the goblins? Are they assisting Sage?” I ask when I realize she hasn’t mentioned them.
“Yes and no,” Atanea replies vaguely. “Their attentions are diverted. The near loss of the contract book has affected them. Sage doesn’t possess a physical form, so the goblins are responsible for guarding the contract book. This text is considered the magni momenti liber. It’s vital to the library and crucial to the goblins’ creation. Without it, they don’t exist. Also, the bookworms have returned.”
Kodi snorts through the mental link. “So, the goblins are having an existential crisis while they fight the bookworms,” he says.
“The timing is circumspect,” Avery murmurs. I believe he’s referring to the bookworms, and he raises a good point. The little demons’ attacks might have been triggered by the false book or the detective.
“The contract book is okay, though?” My question is fearful and cautious. It will be my fault if it’s not. The text is an intrinsic part of the library and so are the goblins. Their existence has been spent alongside my ancestors, and the ones I’ve met are kind and gentle.
“It is unharmed. All of you, including Sage, acted quickly enough to protect it.”
I nod. So, I only have one spell to destroy – one that will probably extinguish my long-lost grandfather’s soul. The poor man has been fighting for the library since his untimely capture. If he has any awareness, I’m certain he misses his mate as profoundly as she misses him.
And … I still lack instructions. Although the summoning has provided information, I don’t feel that much has changed. I will be known throughout history as The Sphinx that Destroyed Gaia’s Western Hidden Library .