CRACK. Iron met lid. Boards splintered; fangs flew like shattered quills. Another blow then another until the mimic lay in ruin, legs twitching in a slurry of green black sap and half chewed parchment.
Silence rang louder than battle. My violin arm trembled, either from magic exertion or the sight of gore soaking the floor.
Velyan wiped ichor off her cheek. "Everyone breathing?"
Qapla grin was more tusk than smile, but steady. "Breathing. Hungry."
Nox flicked slime from her blade, eyes sweeping the shadows. "You think that was the mother?"
I tightened the satchel at my hip, feeling the weight of the unbroken pod thump my ribs.
"Let's hope," I whispered, "that thing was dangerous."
Qapla was still soaked from the waist down. Had I not healed him in time, he might have been severed in half. Should any of more little creatures been here that could have been much more dangerous.
Qapla pressed a hand to his waist where the teeth punched through, "Well, I can still swing my star. So, I call that good. Thanks Annalise."
Velyan tests the tension on her crossbow string, eyes still sharp as they monitored the room.
"Next time we open furniture," she muttered, "we tap first."
Nox crouched, wiping green ichor from her blade. "Proof of kill comes first," she said, then nodded at the ruin. "Chest leather will do?"
"Leather and those teeth, they were sturdy." Qapla decided. "If the guards want more, they can come get it themselves."
While the two warriors pried the gummy hide away from the splintered boards, Velyan and I returned to the desk. Papers lay everywhere, some crisp as new parchment, others stiff with mold. Scrawled headers danced before my eyes:
Experimental taxonomy… adaptive camouflage, mirror skin reconstruction.
"Mirror skins," I breathed. "That name fits the chest and those book critters."
Velyan stacked pages in a clearer light. "Listen to this. 'Composite units bonded from disparate specimens demonstrated emergent predatory instinct.' Maxim stitched mirror skins together and the pieces… woke up."
She glanced back at the corpse that had swallowed Qapla. "And notice the claws marks on the shelves. Three talons. Our friend here has feet that angle in flat edges. No talons. Those were made by a different creature."
Across the room Qapla and Nox wrestled the last flap of hide from the wooden shell. It was a rough job, but it was pealed free. It had a slick underside veined like a leaf. They bundled it into a torn cloak, then stepped away, wiping hands on spare linen.
"Bagged," Qapla called. "Let us finish scavenging and find Maxim."
Velyan nodded and tugged at the desk drawers. One slid open, stacked with parchment and ink. The next stuck. She wedged a dagger under the lip, muscles bunching. I stood behind her as she carefully focused.
"Careful," I warned, Maxim had passed the message he had trapped some of his more important research.
Before I could speak further wood cracked. The drawer was wrenched free. A brief metallic glint burst out, Velyan ducked as quick as a mouse. Something hot and hard punched into the side of my neck.
Cold fire raced from jaw to fingertips, followed instantly by burning pain and a sudden wet warmth spilling down my collar. The room tilted. I capped a hand to the wound and felt warm blood coursing between my fingers. Velyan spun, eyes huge. "No no no…"
Qapla's boots thundered across the floor. Nox called my name, the sound distorting, as if spoken through water. Velyan tried to apply pressure, as I heard their voices as if down a tunnel.
"Does anyone… healing magic…. Salves…?" It was hard to hear her voice.
The room dimmed. The hearthstone flickered to a far off star. Voices blurred into surf against a distant shore. I felt the violin slip from my grasp and kiss the planks.
"I'm sorry Annalise…" I said. "I couldn't save…"
Then everything went silent, and the library's dark swallowed me whole.
light opens like a door I never knew was there and I am looking through eyes that are not my own.
A woman kneels before me, hair fresh like fresh snow, skin nearly glass but kissed with moonlight, eyes the soft red of library embers. Her face is everything gentle I have ever wished for.
"I love you so much," she whispers. Her voice wavers, yet never cracks. "You are destined for wonders, my brave star. You will dazzle every corner of the world."
My own reply comes high and child soft, spoken through eyes that watch her. "What is happening, Mama? Why are you crying?"
She smooths hair from my forehead. "All the pride in my heart belongs to you. Be strong, little spark, and never forget you carry my song."
A rough hand seizes my shoulder. The light tilts, jeers, recedes. I reach out, fingers questing for hers. "Mama, do not let go!" My scream splinters the radiance. Shadows spill like ink, devouring the shine, swallowing her pale face until only scarlet eyes remain, dimming.
Darkness folded shut.
I gasp awake to cold stone under my back. Torchlight has died, but faint witch glow wraps Nox's hands as she presses them to my throat. Her brows knot with worry; black tendrils of shadow curl from her palms, stitching flesh where pain should be.
"Annalise, breathe," she orders. I obey, and breath surges free, clear, painless. My head feels newly washed, as though I have woken from the sweetest afternoon nap.
Qapla looms behind her, face filled with fear and worry. Velyan stands a bit back, her hands slick with blood. They both are not only focused on me, but they are also glancing at Nox with anxious gazes.
"I am all right," I manage, voice rough silk. I touch my neck; the wound is gone, skin whole.
Nox's tail flicks, tension easing. The shadows around her fingers fade like mist at sunrise. She does not explain, and I choose not to ask, not yet.
Velyan slung her crossbow over one shoulder, looking at me stone faced. "Next time, duck faster."
I pushed myself up on my elbows. "Next time I would prefer not bleeding out at all."
"That part was on you," she replied, thumbing a book she had just pried from the top drawer.
Qapla's tusks upturned into a scowl. "She walked in trusting you, Velyan. I warned everyone about the traps. You knew the danger."
Velyan held the book higher. Patchwork pages of vellum, bark, even hammered copper had been sewn into one thick volume. A crude title sprawled across the front: Maxim's Monster Manuel.
"And it was worth the sting," she said. "Nobody died, and all his research is in here. Monsters galore, of all shapes and sizes, their habits and weaknesses listed." She paged through it.
"I know a lot of people who would pay a lot of money for this information."
"Should we be taking his research notes? Those are his." I said.
"You almost died for it, so might as well." Velyan stated. I couldn't argue with that. But I could not help but feel like she was underplaying the price the group had almost paid in blood rather than gold.
Nox scanned the dark, "We can debate trophies when teeth are not lurking in the stacks. We should leave."
No one disagreed. Qapla hefted the burlap bundle of leathery hide, Velyan tucked the manual under an arm, and Nox helped me steady my steps. We threaded back through twisting aisles, the mirror skin's acrid stink trailing us like a warning flag.
Corridor after corridor bent the wrong way, but Qapla's keen sense of direction kept us from circling forever. At last, we made our way back to the domed room with the pyramid books. Then out the front door.
Outside the library doors we gulped fresh air. Dawn had barely brightened the street, yet the sky felt huge after those book walled tunnels. Qapla locked the door as we all left.