Page 32 of Gifted Destiny (Hidden Libraries #3)

Garrett

T he newly forged bond between Zosia and I sends a spike through my chest the second she loses hope. Although I want to mope alongside her, I refuse to admit defeat. I slide into the space that opened between Bren and my mate and place my hand on her back. Mine looks large and blocky compared to Avery’s nearly translucent skin and long, tapered fingers. We couldn’t appear more dissimilar, but we offer the same comfort.

“It’s not hopeless,” I tell my mate in the gentlest voice I can conjure. Gentleness has never been one of my strengths.

Bren joins us, but he feels more aloof and distant without the bond. He brought me to the library and Zosia, he’s been speaking about her for years, and he loved her before we met her. Like the alpha I am, though, I pushed into her bed before him. It’s not something I could ever regret. Still, his absence in our tightly woven circle grows more noticeable with each new event and revelation.

“Of course it isn’t hopeless,” the older sphinx snaps.

I like her. She combines compassion and love with a commanding, no-nonsense attitude. Also, because I’m a shallow creature, I see that Zosia will always be beautiful if she ages half as gracefully as her grandmother did. Atanea’s form is clearly different than Kodi’s is. The ghost gives the impression that he’s a growing, maturing entity, but Atanea’s consciousness is an echo of life. My observations are just that, however; I’m not a ghost expert.

“I wouldn’t have answered your call if I thought it was pointless.” Atanea sighs heavily, her gaze traveling to the photo of herself between the two creatures’ paws. “My guardians and I made peace with Agustin’s absence many years ago. Now, we can honor his sacrifice.”

The older sphinx looks up from the photo and trains her steely gaze on my mate. I’m proud that Zosia doesn’t shrink away from the intensity in her grandmother’s gaze. “As for you, Granddaughter, the rest is not lost. You are powerful, and you have chosen powerful guardians. The only way you will fail is if you try to accomplish this alone.”

Zosia’s feathers ruffle against my leg. She is absorbing her grandmother’s wisdom, but she doesn’t believe it yet.

“Trust in the library, dear one. Epochs of supernaturals, far more than any human alive remembers, have encapsulated their knowledge within these walls. She has never failed our ancestors either. Her silence might be disheartening, but never doubt that she is fighting alongside you. We, the collective of sphinxes and all of our loyal guardians, are positive that she is formulating a plan. As for the spell book? A blast of mage fire from someone bound to the library should strip the text down to its essentials and eliminate the threat.”

I gape at her, and I believe Zosia mimics my expression. Was this conversation necessary if the answer was that simple? My mate reminds me that it isn’t that simple.

“But none of us can produce mage fire,” Zosia protests.

The regal sphinx lifts an eyebrow and the ear matching it twitches in tandem. “There are two mages within this room and all mages can produce a spark of mage fire. The library will increase its destructive ability and help control the blaze.”

“But I can’t … I don’t …,” my brother stutters his argument alongside Zosia’s – although the sphinx’s is less certain. Her range of capabilities is still a mystery.

“If you’ve never done it before, you’ve never tried,” Atanea counters.

Bren’s expression of dubious skepticism causes the old sphinx to huff and shake her wings. She’s less substantial than Kodi, but the motion isn’t entirely non-threatening. “You’ve created lightning. Is it different to fire?”

I fight the urge to snap at the old woman. I’m worried that her forceful nature will remind Bren too much of Addington and make my brother shut down. I’m distracted by the thoughts the woman’s words conjure. Our unwanted sire always focused on my brother’s wild magic, focusing on Bren’s inability to control his destructive tendencies. Did Addington intentionally ignore mage fire because he was worried that my brother might threaten him with them? The flames of magic are a sly weapon, easily controlled and contained.

When Bren doesn’t respond, I glance toward him. His brow is creased with concentration, not distress, and I realize he must be comparing lightning to fire. Are they different? Lightning can cause a fire, but it’s not fire itself … right?

The puzzle makes my head ache, and I’m suddenly grateful that I’m here – in the library instead of attending academic classes like I’d planned. Formal education, reading, and studying have always been my least favorite activities, but I’d chosen to brave them to get revenge. The degree was always a means to an end, but destinations can be reached via different paths. I prefer my current path, even if it is fraught with difficulty.

“And you,” the old woman continues, “are a sphinx.” The look she pins on Zosia is fierce and loving, with each emotion clearly equal. “You didn’t have a proper upbringing, but you are still our granddaughter. Sphinxes can’t be placed into just one of Apocrypha’s fancy houses. We are shifters, yes, but we’re also mages with a touch of Other .”

This isn’t the first time that Zosia has been told she’s also a mage, but it is the first time anyone has alluded to the Other. Her shock ripples through me. I haven’t fully adjusted to the link, and it blows my mind to know that Avery and Kodi feel the same. Despite the strangeness, the experience isn’t alien – sometimes, I believe my soul was created to accommodate the connection. My need for control leads me to deny outside forces like gods, fate, and destiny, but I can’t ignore the odd forces at work in our lives.

My connection to the library isn’t as natural as the mate-bond. Sage is vast and ancient, and she encompasses entire universes inside her. My earlier words to Bren weren’t hyperbole. I feel like an orphan who has been thrust into the center of an immense extended family. Comparing the bond to a family makes Bren’s absence more conspicuous. He’s the only one I considered family before arriving at Apocrypha.

“You think I might be able to make mage fire?” Zosia’s disbelief is apparent in each word she speaks.

“My darling grandchild, you could accomplish so much more than you believe. You were imprisoned, young, and alone for more than a quarter of your life. You didn’t surrender your magic despite frequent, horrible torture. In other words, you refused to betray the library despite not knowing what you were protecting. Most people can’t endure what you did even when they have a clear reason to resist. This is not just about mage fire. I believe you are capable of nearly anything you put your mind to.”

Zo’s emotions waffle between pride, disbelief, and confusion. I have difficulty discerning the reasons because Atanea’s words have reminded me that my father did that to my mate. I’ve hated him for years, but my hostility and anger nearly consume me.

“How do you know what I went through and for how long?”

My mate’s question passes through the veil of red, but my fury continues to simmer inside me. I won’t be satisfied until Addington is no longer a threat to the people I love.

The summoned spirit projects empathy and sadness. “The Library was granted access to your memories when you were being evaluated for the librarian position. She doesn’t relay everything to us, but we were offered glimpses into your past. This is also how I knew who protected you after your mother died. The data gives her insight into your character and begins the integration of your consciousness with ours. The process is similar with your guardians. The library needs to be certain a decision is being made on the guardian’s suitability for the position and not overly affected by lust or expectation. The availability of the contract book is her symbol of approval.”

Atanea’s gaze encapsulates all of us, including Kodi. I belatedly realize that his emotions indicate he’s part of this exchange. Zosia must be broadcasting everything to him, although I’ve never heard of magic doing anything that powerful or fantastical. A summoned spirit is speaking to a ghost through a sphinx – the concept is insane.

“The five of you have withstood more suffering than any one person should endure, but your future can be free of this pain. I cannot deny you a claim to vengeance, but these motives should not adversely affect your end goal.” The older sphinx’s golden eyes, nearly absent of blue, focus upon me, and her admonishment feels like a scolding grandmother’s words. I struggle not to fidget under her regard and am relieved when her attention includes everyone again.

“Together, your group is a powerful force in a crucial moment. You will shape supernatural culture and provide a guiding light for the difficult road ahead. Soon, everyone on Gaia will realize that your world is bigger than everyone has believed.” She pauses deliberately to let our confusion sink in.

I glance at Bren, but he doesn’t appear as baffled as me. Does he know something I don’t? Is there more to our universe or our world than we’ve been told?

Although she paused, the older sphinx doesn’t invite questions. “The Western Library’s influence is equal to the Bureau’s and the shifter’s chosen alpha, although Addington wants everyone to believe he has a higher standing. The alpha before him knew how to play fair. Alongside the other Races, the Library and the BSP are meant to be neutral forces on the OSC. The western world is relying on us to keep the other races in check.” The apparition’s gaze settles on me. “This isn’t what you were told, is it?”

I shake my head but don’t offer more. I’m certain everyone here knows what Addington told me.

“The key point of this lecture is that your youth doesn’t diminish your responsibilities, influence, or power. You are a threat to anyone who seeks to claim power or corrupt the supernatural community. Once you have stripped Addington’s power from him, you can steer the supernatural community in an honorable direction.”

Each word affects us like a physical blow, even Kodi who is downstairs and Bren, who isn’t bonded. Atanea includes him as if he’s already a member of our circle, and I appreciate her consideration. It’s just a matter of time.

Atanea must sense the current of doubt in Zosia at the same time as me because her golden eyes flash and her ears twitch. “Doubt holds no place in this moment, Granddaughter. Faith is a singular force. When you doubt, you steal that force from your mates and yourself. Hubris and humility are good traits, but you mustn’t let the uncertainty linger when you face a critical juncture.”

When Zosia doesn’t reply, Atanea flares her wings. They are huge in the small room and as beautifully shaded as my mate’s. I’m uncertain of her intent, but the display commands our attention. “It’s not in my nature to offer praise, but I’ll make an exception in your cases. Listen closely and permit my words to erase those you have heard your entire lives. Each of you is unique and powerful. Your skills belong to you and have since before you arrived at the library. Avery DuClair, born vampires have all of the advantages of their kind but none of the detriments. There is a reason why your kind never reaches maturity – you are a threat to every vampire that walks this earth. It’s my belief that your blindness has kept you alive. It permits others to underestimate you.”

Avery isn’t surprised by a single word, but I’m more appreciative of him after hearing the blunt words. The older woman’s gaze flickers to me next. “Griffins don’t usually survive outside of their family group – their drift. Hybrids are a special kind of shifter and it’s believed that they can’t mature properly or shift without support from their own kind. You, Garrett Kennard, have proven this theory incorrect. You shifted before your brother was old enough to offer support. You’ve also turned your human form into a weapon. Your body, combined with your shifter’s enhanced senses, is a formidable foe.”

I swallow hard as conflicting emotions vie for attention. I’ve never admitted how difficult my life was before Bren joined me ... I felt so alone. It might be why I cling to him so tightly and will do the same with my found family. They are my drift – griffins or not. As for the sphinx’s other point … Addington always said human forms were weak. I sought to prove him wrong in everything.

“Brennan.” The sphinx says his name thoughtfully, and her head cocks to the side with a flick of her ears. “You continuously defy the odds and impress us. You have two very rare abilities that should have detonated – either internally or externally. Not only have you managed to contain your powers, but you’ve also demonstrated remarkable control. You retain your sanity and you’ve exercised enough control to transfer your power to another entity.” Atanea shakes her head in disbelief. “Thank Destiny that you have escaped your father’s influence. He could have destroyed the universe with your powers. Instead, you will remake it.”

“He’ll what?” Zosia asks the question we all think.

“Shh. I’m not done yet,” her grandmother scolds with a hint of amusement. I recognize the old woman’s tactics. She doesn’t intend to explain her cryptic remarks.

Bren is torn between pride and confusion. Just like me, he didn’t receive enough praise as a child.

Atanea keeps her attention on Zosia, but she’s not ready to speak of my mate just yet. “This brings us to Kodi, who is listening and watching through you. I admit that you are a surprise to all of us, ghost, even Sage. Zosia has become your anchor to this world; she has given your soul a reason to remain in its current cycle. This occurrence isn’t unheard of, but you’ve taken it a step further. You manifested a corporeal form prior to the mage’s assistance. After Brennan’s contribution, you’ve achieved mastery over your physical state. An exploit of this magnitude is not documented in the chronicles of our universe or any others that we can access.”

I only have a second to note the reference to something greater than Gaia before Atanea continues.

“All of you are anomalies, but Kodi is an impossibility that can no longer be called an impossibility because the proof is here. Kodi, you shouldn’t exist. You do, though.” She doesn’t offer any reasons why because I don’t think she knows.

“Last but not least, of course, is my precious granddaughter. I expend energy to manifest in this form and to speak, so don’t ignore what I’m about to say, Zosia Aviram Abram.”

The lines etched into the woman’s face hint at a smile while Zosia shifts her weight nervously. We surround her. Avery and I keep our hands on her back. While Bren isn’t next to her, her tail twines toward him and wraps around his ankle. Kodi is in her mind. You’d think she was getting the worst news of her life, but I understand. When praise is rare, it becomes an expectation rather than an opinion or observation.

“Granddaughter of ours, you have survived unspeakable horrors and reclaimed your destiny despite the enemy’s attempts. A part of you understands that your trauma could have immobilized you. You have not only survived, you have embraced a difficult future. Sphinxes are hybrids too; they have a tendency to turn feral without support. Your temporary amnesia might have protected you while you recovered, but it also gave your mind time to heal.”

Atanea’s intense stare releases Zosia and encompasses all of us again. “Your genetics, your birth families, your adversities … each of you has overcome obstacles and dangers to become what Destiny intends. Your determination to survive has angered your adversary. Addington might have started this endeavor for other reasons, but he’s made it into a personal endeavor. Your strength and perseverance has become a threat.” The sphinx’s gaze glows golden, her bearing regal, and I sense that it isn’t just her speaking. It might be Atanea before us, but her words belong to the sphinxes that came before.

“You may feel alone, perhaps abandoned, but the truth is far removed from this. Powerful entities are monitoring your actions and decisions. Some of these observers have your best interests in mind and some do not. Some may choose to interfere. If they do, you must decide whether the help is worth the cost or if there’s no other path forward.”

“You appear to possess unlimited faith in our abilities to determine the best course of action, even though I feel as if we lack crucial information.” The vampire’s voice is smooth, and I’m surprised he can form coherent words and raise important points.

Because it’s been a lifelong goal of mine, I’m eager to believe that we pose a threat to Addington. What about the rest, though? Who is watching us? Why? What help will they offer and what cost will they demand? Does it have to do with the greater universe Atanea keeps mentioning?

“I apologize for the lack of information.” The ancient sphinx’s eyes fall to the floor again. She appears to wrestle with herself regarding her words. “There are certain matters that I have not been permitted to explain. I am, however, entirely confident in your combined abilities and strength.” Atanea’s head lifts to settle on my brother. “You’ve seen what is at risk, yes?”

Bren’s lips thin, but he nods. The conversation has taken longer than we thought, but he’s been remarkably present the entire time.

“Then you understand what is at stake. If the universe is to be mended, however, I could not ask for better champions. You are all worthy.” Her gaze swings to Zosia. “Don’t fret about the library’s hours. The library has a greater duty to the supernatural world. She chooses to provide study materials to the entitled brats, and the privilege can be revoked.”

The older sphinx’s face softens. “Concentrate on one task at a time, Granddaughter, and don’t fret about Sage or the goblins. They are safe. I represent their faith in you and your guardians. Trust in yourself and each other and you shall always find the right path.” The specter is still speaking when we realize the objects behind her growing more distinct than her form. Then …, she’s gone.

“Wait!” Zosia cries. “We still don’t know what to do.” She finishes her sentence glumly and quietly because her grandmother has already faded. Her emotions aren’t difficult to interpret. For a short time, my mate felt like she had family, one she was born into, and she mourns the loss.

“She’ll always be available,” I offer in the gentlest voice I can manage. “It’s like video-calling the dead.”

Zosia’s lips curve, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She appears preoccupied, and I can’t blame her, but she’s still a sphinx and she’s still Zosia – easily distracted. When Bren retrieves Atanea’s photo and lifts the tattered hem of his t-shirt to wipe the glass, he inadvertently flashes his naked stomach. Desire replaces whatever dilemma my mate had been contemplating. The strength of her need indicates that my brother’s less impressive abs are still good enough for her.

The jealousy that would have overtaken me less than a day ago is absent. It’s not necessary now that we’re marked. The feather is branded into her thick fur above the tip of her right wing in animal form. It’s more obvious than her other marks, but this is vital to shifters. My griffin preens every time I see it. Atanea confirmed my suspicions that my griffin considers Bren family already; he kept me sane. It might be fun to meet another griffin one day, but my drift is here.

Zosia’s desire extinguishes as quickly as it sparked, and I nearly miss everyone leaving because my brain wants to focus on the questions this raises. Is it because she’s overwhelmed with other things? Is it Bren? Or are women just different from men in that way?

My body follows my mate even with my mind on other things. Somehow, I know she wants to be with Kodi, but there’s not a specific emotion indicating her intention. I realize the bond does more than transmit raw emotion in that moment, and the revelation is comforting rather than distressful. It seems like a useful tool in dangerous moments.

When we arrive at the location of the ghost and the book that might have killed any one of us, I’m surprised a smartass remark doesn’t immediately pop out of him.

“Let’s discuss.” Zosia’s words are blunt.

The book appears innocent and unchanged, like it’s not a deadly trap seeking the perfect opportunity to snare us. Zo gathers us at one end of the aisle – in view of the object but not huddled around it.

“Discuss how badass we are? And that we’re basically the chosen ones?”

There it is; the remark is only slightly delayed. I roll my eyes and Zo’s lips twitch into an almost smile. We’ve already grown accustomed to each other’s flaws and quirks, like the fictional families I’ve read about. Our mate seems to share his sarcastic humor, which is good because I’m rarely funny … but I might be more amusing than Avery is.

“I’ve never created mage fire,” Bren says softly.

“Addington didn’t want you to know how powerful you are because he feared you’d turn on him. I bet you can do anything a mage can, Bren, including enchantments and spells.” My voice carries the confidence my brother doesn’t show. We have to do this for each other to counteract our father’s voice in our heads.

“I’m supposed to be a mage as well, too, but I doubt my mage abilities can compare to yours.” Zo nudges my brother’s hip with her shoulder. “We can try together.” Her shy tone doesn’t match the sharp teeth she bares, but she’s perfect. Both she and my brother can appear weak, but they aren’t. He knew they were a perfect match before they met in person, but he forgets this sometimes.

“I’d like that,” Bren replies.

Kodi prepares to comment on their obvious flirting, but Avery interrupts him. I’m grateful to the vampire. Bren and Zo are under enough pressure already.

“One might think that the former librarian offered nothing of consequence, but I disagree. I’ve had many questions since I arrived, and she’s answered most of them.”

I cock an eyebrow, and Zosia’s ear twitches. Like my mate, I thought the sphinx’s advice lacked instruction.

“Like what?” Kodi demands with a hint of arrogant disbelief. He’s so full of himself – even though he’s literally empty and not full of hot air or shit like most boastful know-it-alls. Hmm … maybe I can be funny.

“Ms. Atanea confirmed that the libraries are designated superpowers, for one. I’ve heard of this, but we’ve had little evidence. Once we establish ourselves, we’ll be called upon to assist powerful dignitaries and leaders. Dighit often mentioned that access to the library used to be a sign of prestige and significance.” The vampire’s lips twitch. “Ironically, he deprived himself of his standing in the community when he insulted you.” His satisfied smile as he looks at our mate doesn’t clash with his pompous manner of speech.

The thought is surprising because I barely tolerated the vampire yesterday. My bond with Zosia has resulted in more understanding for Avery and Kodi. I’m now able to tolerate the two very different creatures.

“Gaia’s Western Hidden Library is not just an academic supplement to Apocrypha Academy. As such, we are more substantial than mere employees. No governmental body can replace the library or Zosia. She remains the only sphinx, and we have some immunity as her guardians. In addition to what Ms. Atanea said, I believe that the library might be testing us in some capacity.”

Zosia’s nose crinkles with confusion, and my grimace probably mimics her emotions. “Testing us for what?” I ask.

“Atanea wasn’t the first to mention the greater universe,” Bren mutters. His hand idly strokes Zosia’s back as she leans against him. “And sometimes ….” His words trail away.

“And sometimes?” I prompt when a minute of silence indicates that we’ve lost him.

Bren shakes his head and refocuses his gaze. “Sometimes, my visions show strangeness I can’t explain.”

“And Fin called Bren a cosmic mage – not an atmospheric mage,” Kodi blurts rapidly, excited that he has something to offer.

I grunt. “But what are the cosmos to a goblin?”

“Good point, beastman,” Kodi murmurs. I might have walloped him for the slur if he weren’t staring at me like I’d just spouted the wisest words he’d ever heard … and if I could touch him.

I grunt as Avery’s words sink into my brain. It’s quite possible that he’s wrong, but the gist of his words makes perfect sense.

Zosia’s weight shifts, leaning more heavily against my brother. I worry that he might not be able to support her, but he doesn’t falter. My mate’s earlier fatigue isn’t as apparent, but her posture is noticeably droopy.

“This might be some sort of test,” she concedes, “but it doesn’t make the crisis we face any easier or the stakes any lower. And I’m not a superpower or a superhero. My birth might offer me some distinction, but ….” Zosia’s wings rustle in a feline shrug.

I want to kneel before her and convince her of her power; it has nothing to do with her birthright or her hybrid form. She might not believe she’s important to the world or the universe yet, but I want her to believe she’s important to us.

Atanea made several claims. The one I can’t deny is Zosia’s unwavering strength. I’ve met women who live such comfortably spoiled lives that they think a broken nail causes post-traumatic stress disorder. My mate has endured true horror and unspeakable loss. She is still willing to risk her life to prevent others from the abuse she endured, though. If that doesn’t exemplify the true character of a superhero, they don’t exist.

I don’t deserve her, but I’ll stay by her side as long as she’ll have me. And I will convince her that she is everything we say she is and more. Fuck Addington, and fuck that damn fake book. After everything my mate has been through, she deserves rest and happiness. We all do.