Page 18 of The Alien in the Archive (Galactic Librarians #1)

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I need a distraction.

After what happened last night—and the night before that—my thoughts are a mess, and I don’t trust myself to be alone in the Obscuary with Thorne right now. Not after the kiss. Not after the way he looked at me when he pulled back, like he wanted to stay but couldn’t let himself.

No…we need a minute to cool down.

And I need a minute to figure out how to convince him not to just let himself die.

So, I redirect my energy into something I can control: research.

Thorne said my sex dreams were about me, not him—that I was having fantasies and he was just a casual observer—but I know better. There’s something between us, something undeniable, and if I don’t figure out how to handle it, it’ll consume me. But more than that…

I can’t stop thinking about what he told me—that he’s dying. That his lifespan is finite unless he drinks Elixir. That he’s resigned himself to wasting away in the Obscuary because he won’t let himself take what he needs.

There has to be another way.

Thorne isn’t like anyone else; he’s Borean, a species that kept their secrets close, so much that even the Obscuary barely scratches the surface of their mysteries. If anyone has rituals that could help him, it would be his own people. But I have no idea what those rituals might involve, or if they even exist anymore.

I follow the thread, thinking about it while I’m in the shower, while I’m lying in bed at night, thoughts racing. I’m good at this; I find creative places to seek out new information, it’s what I do. I can figure this out, too.

Then–tucked into a Skoll text that mentions a child born of a Skoll female and a Borean male, I find it: Borean intimacy rituals.

They were a notoriously private species, and they destroyed most of their records and history, but I have to imagine that, when they were still engaging in intimacy, they did it the same way every species in the Pact does: Elixir Ceremonies. It’s the only time that any other species drinks Elixir—or, more accurately, an alchemical concoction that combines Elixir and DNA from those who want to get married.

At least, I think that’s what it means.

Humans aren’t too keen on the whole drinking-your-partner’s-DNA thing, so I’m not in the know.

But lucky for me, I’m friends with someone who knows a hell of a lot about Alpha Worlds genealogy…and I know just where to find her.

The Turitella is the highest point in the Grand Library, a marvel of Merati engineering. Made of coral, gold, and marble, it’s also one of the most beautiful places on M’mir—boasting ten floors of archival material on the Merati royal lines, with a ten-story diving pool at its center. I’ve been wanting to visit, and now is finally the time.

I take the western lift system to the tower—one of the only lifts with railings at its edges. That doesn’t make it any less daunting as the lift rises and rises, passing floor after floor. Unlike my trips to the Obscuary, this lift is filled with scholars of all species, eagerly chatting about their work.

I step off of the lift at the very top, where I follow the other passengers down a coral hallway. Holograms of beautiful ocean vistas line the walls: painted horizons, sea floors, coral reefs, and chasms. I try not to look like a tourist as I walk, but I give up on trying when I enter the main tower.

It’s…absolutely gorgeous.

An enormous skylight caps the tower, painted as if you’re looking up at the surface of the ocean. The holograms from the hallway are everywhere here, projecting colorful fish swimming from place to place. Every accent is plated in gold, the floors made of rich, extravagant marble.

Thalara being a princess suddenly makes sense. Of course this is where a princess would work.

I look around for the information desk, where two immaculately dressed, stunningly beautiful Merati females are standing and working on tablets. One of them glances up and smiles at me when I approach, aquamarine eyes large and bright. “Can I help you?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say, feeling very much out of place. “I’m looking for Thalara Seviris?”

“Ah,” the Merati says. “Yes…I think she’s working in the fourth floor submerged stacks at the moment.”

I stare at her, unable to comprehend what the hell I’m supposed to do with that information. When she doesn’t offer an explanation, I speak up again.

“I can’t breathe underwater,” I say with a sheepish smile.

The Merati females look at each other, then laugh, the sound like bubbles in a pond. “The stacks are divided,” the first one says. “Air-breathers can access one side; Thalara will be on the other. You’ll be able to see each other.”

“Okay.” I nod. “Um…thank you.”

I turn around and spot the stairs right away—which is good, because I don’t get the impression those girls liked me much at all.

I guess this is what it feels like to get bullied by the little mermaid.

A spiral staircase takes me down into the stacks, and I’m once again struck dumb by how gorgeous this place is. The submerged stacks are a column of clear water with their own shelves, Merati swimming between them. I take a moment to look into the stacks, walking down a row of old tomes before gazing past the glass. A Merati male is sorting books just ahead, all eight blue tentacles engaged in sorting through texts engraved on thin tablets of mother-of-pearl. I guess I stare a little too long, because the Merati suddenly looks over at me with a glare.

I get a glimpse into his thoughts: Humans always acting like this is a fucking aquarium.

I raise my hand in an awkward wave. He doesn’t wave back.

I go back to the staircase and descend three more floors, until I find the sign for the section I’m looking for. I stroll down the aisle again, looking into the submerged stacks, and this time I find her.

Thalara is in her mer form, blue-black hair floating in a curtain around her head as her opalescent white tentacles flip through a collection of what appears to be images painted on seaweed. She glances up at me when I approach the glass, and an understanding smile appears on her face. She waves; I wave back. Then she points to the right, and I follow her lead.

A few minutes later, I’m watching her walk out of an airlock, dressed in a pink wrap dress and wringing out her hair. I don’t know what they use to keep the floors dry around here, but the water seems to vanish as soon as it falls. Thalara pads over to me on bare feet.

“Page!” she says. “I didn’t know you were planning a visit today. It’s lovely to see you.”

I’ve never been able to get a read on Thalara in terms of how she feels about me—she’s too shy, and her thoughts normally revolve around her very intense crush on my brother, so I keep out of them—but the warm reception eases my anxieties over being here. “It’s good to see you, too,” I smile.

“So what brings you here?”

We walk down the aisle toward a little table with a port window. “I stumbled on some information about intermarriage on early Earth, and I figured I’d come up here and ask the only expert I know on family lines,” I say. “So…I’m here for research.”

“Ah, right,” she says. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I get a hint of disappointment—and it occurs to me that she really wants to be my friend.

“I should come up more often, though,” I continue. “We should get lunch sometime.”

She smiles. “I would like that!”

When we sit down, I look through the window and see an incredible view of the Nautilum glimmering underneath the sea. Thalara is still gathering herself, now braiding her long hair over her shoulder.

“So how can I help?” she asks. “Are you looking for Skoll or human consorts? I know you mentioned the Lost Expeditions.”

I hesitate, unsure of how much to tell her. Thalara’s been kind, but this isn’t just academic curiosity; I have skin in the game. Still, if I don’t ask the right questions, I might miss something important…and clarity is best with research questions.

“Actually, I’m looking for Boreans,” I blurt out. “Borean Elixir bonding, specifically.”

Her brow furrows, the mood changing right away. I should have known it would, I know my history. The Borean Empire had a tenuous relationship with the Merati for most of its existence. Thalara might personally know people who were affected.

“Well,” she says. “You have to understand that the Boreans usually purged their records.”

“Yeah, I’ve been running into that same problem in the Obscuary,” I say. “Thus, why I’m here.”

She hesitates. “Right. From what little we know, their use of Elixir was…different.”

“How different?”

“They didn’t perform ceremonies the way most species do,” Thalara explains. “Elixir wasn’t a ritual for them; it was a necessity. It sustained them, extended their lifespans, heightened their abilities. There are even rumors they could fly .”

I try to feign amazement at that; I’m not sure if it works. “And Elixir bonding…is it permanent? Or could they do it without being stuck with someone else?”

Thalara cocks her head at me, frowning. “That’s…an interesting question.”

Fuck. I don’t sound very historical, do I?

“I mean…if, theoretically, Boreans had Elixir in their blood, would it have Elixir bonded them to someone who drank that blood? ”

She looks up at the ceiling, reaching up to tap her chin. “You know…that’s never occurred to me before. But...yes, I suppose so? I’m curious what you’re looking at that raises this question.”

I smile. “I’d love to share it with you when I have a better idea, but for now, are there any books you can recommend?”

“Of course,” she says. “If you’d follow me…”

Thalara rises from her seat, and I follow her as she leads me deeper into the stacks. We walk past rows of shelves filled with holographic interfaces and ancient texts, the air humming softly with the sound of Merati tech and murmured conversations.

“I’ll take you to the section on interspecies Elixir practices,” she says. “While the Boreans were notoriously secretive, some of their practices were documented by diplomats and other scholars from other Alpha Worlds species. There might be something useful there.”

“Thanks, Thalara,” I say. “I really appreciate this.”

She glances over her shoulder with a small smile. “Of course. Always happy to help a friend.”

Thalara stops at a corner of the stacks where a glowing panel displays a rotating selection of titles in Merati; my translator takes a moment to interpret the words for me. Thalara taps a few holographic keys, then the display shifts to a list of files with keywords like Elixir Bonding and Psychic Mating Rituals .

“This is where we keep the bulk of our records on Elixir practices,” she explains. “Most of it focuses on the Merati and Skoll, but there are fragments about other species. You might have some luck here.”

I step closer to the display, scrolling through the titles. Some are promising, like Elixir as Ritual: A Comparative Study of Alpha Worlds Practices and Ceremonies of the Hyperborean Empire . I tap on a few, sending them to a nearby reading station.

“Anything catch your eye?” Thalara asks.

“A few things,” I say, trying to keep my voice casual. “But I’m curious, are there any records on Boreans using Elixir outside of bonding ceremonies? Something more…practical?”

“Practical?” she repeats, tilting her head.

“Like…what if someone already had Elixir in their blood?” I ask. “Could that change the way a ceremony works?”

Her silver-blue brows knit together as she considers the question. “Possibly. Elixir amplifies abilities; it’s why it’s so coveted. If someone already had it in their veins, it could make the bond stronger…or more volatile. But I’ve never heard of it being used that way.”

“Interesting,” I murmur, filing that information away. I look up at her, smiling again. “Thanks for this, Thalara. You’ve been really wonderful today.”

She smiles gently. “Take your time with it. And Page…if you ever want to talk, about anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks,” I say again, genuinely touched.

I tap a couple more titles that look promising, and soon enough I’m picking them all up at the holds desk. By the time I leave the Turitella, the sky over Mythara is awash in shades of gold and violet. The books in my bag feel impossibly heavy, their contents a secret I’m not ready to share with anyone—not even Thorne.

But one thing is clear.

I won’t let him waste away in the Obscuary. Not when there’s a chance to save him.

Not when I’m starting to believe there’s something more to his hunger for me.