Page 16 of Saving Destiny

“What do you have in mind?” I ask Avery. “Addington is Old English, so we probably have ancestors in the United Kingdom, but I think we’re mutts like any other immigrant family in this country. Ancestry isn’t important to either of us.” I speak for Garrett to minimize his chances of insulting the vampire who’s only trying to help.

“Perhaps meaning should be more important than origin? Wisdom? Strength? Guardian?”

Several books land on the empty table between us, materializing out of thin air. The bindings bear titles likeThe History of SurnamesandWord Origins.Garrett muffles a surprised yelp that I would have loved to hear. I swear the library is looking for chances to rattle the stoic shifter, and I’m here for it.

My brother glares at the books as if they present a monumental task or valiant foe, but I immediately grab the one on top and start skimming. The idea of having knowledge readily available at all times vastly improves my mood. Maybe this fight won’t be as one-sided as I fear; I sometimes forget that we have an extremely powerful ally and efficient tools.

With a sigh that speaks of mortal suffering, Garrett seizes the slimmest text in the pile. I’m certain he’d rather be working out or doing anything else. He’s doing this for me, and I appreciate the step out of his comfort zone. His scowl is dark as he opens the book to the middle. When his eyes land on the page, he scrambles back from the table with a gasp. His chair makes a horrifying screech against the wood floor.

“What in the …?” The shifter gapes at the open book on the table as if it’s a snake poised to bite him.

I cock my head and study him before leaning forward to look at the pages. A perfectly ordinary wall of text greets me; the book doesn’t even have any pictures. I lift an eyebrow and return my gaze to my brother. Did Walthers manage to put a spell on him while they were saving Kodi?

“The letters … the words … they moved! And not in the usual way.” He squints at the book again but doesn’t immediately retake his seat. His eyes glaze over as he reads, and I join him, but the library’s current magic isn’t intended for me because I don’t see what he sees. “They’re moving in a way that makes sense; it’s like they’re rearranging the right way. Or maybe my brain is moving them? I have no idea, but I can read it. I understand it.” He shakes his head as if denying the possibility, but his expression remains bewildered and he keeps babbling.

“It’s not like I’m cured because the first second I look at it, it's the way it’s always been. But the next second, everything moves and I can understand it without needing to strain my brain.” He’s always told me that it takes intense focus for the written word to make sense and the effort isn’t worth it.

“That’s wonderful,” I reply, trying to make myself sound surprised. I’m not because it makes perfect sense that the library is capable of helping her patrons read. I hand one of the unclaimed books to Avery, whose expression is unchanged. The text is old and worn with a bald typeface, but the print turns into braille when Avery opens it. The vampire skims his fingertips across the page with gentle reverence before he smiles at Garrett.

“The library accommodated me before I became a guardian,” he says. “It wasn’t every book then, just the ones I absolutely needed, but that has changed. Yesterday, when I trailed my fingertips along a shelf of books, all of the titles were in braille.” He turns the page with the book displayed. Garrett and I both watch as the text shifts. I find it interesting that I can’t see the magic at work in Garrett’s book, but I can in Avery’s.

“Magic library,” I murmur. Another lingering kernel of misery in my mind and soul pops as I whisper awed words of gratitude. My visions of the future don’t burst with sudden promise, but my companions’ joy and surprise offer me a moment of peace.

“But ….” My brother retakes his seat and picks the book back up. His eyes turn glassy as he devours the words on the pages. I doubt he’ll become a bookworm or a voracious reader, but I imagine I see relief soothing some of the stress from his broad shoulders. When he turns the page, though, he loses his focus on the book. Instead of reading, he’s staring toward our private apartments.

“It doesn’t seem fair,” he mutters quietly.

He doesn’t need to elaborate because I know exactly what he’s thinking. The library can’t mend Zosia’s legs, bring Kodi back to life, cure Avery’s blindness, or make me more … normal. One tutor used the words neurodivergent and atypical, but I despised those labels. Who’s to say what’s typical and what’s not? If neurotypical brains currently control the world, it’s not a point in their favor. Our society and many others are in horrible disrepair. Being neurotypical doesn’t automatically sell itself as a better alternative.

“Manipulating the books under her power is a simple task. As Stephen King said, ‘Books are a uniquely portable magic.'” I grin at Garrett when he rolls his eyes toward me. “If he’s right, and I believe he is, books are already a form of magic. Therefore, the library expends very little energy to help you understand what you read. It’s very different from mending bones or bringing someone back to life, which is always impossible. Besides, as our delegate on the OSC, you’re going to be the face that the library presents to the world. Being able to appear normal offers you an advantage.”

Garrett taps his fingers on the table and scowls. “What is it that you always say about being normal? You have a quote for that, too.”

I grin. The pleasure of irritating my brother makes more of the cloudy darkness fade from my thoughts. “I have more than I can count. Perhaps the ones you’re looking for right now are Zappa’s ‘Without deviance from normality there can be no progress,’ or Jung’s ‘Normality is a fine ideal for those who have no imagination.’” I can spout several more, but they remain unspoken; I might need them sooner rather than later.

“Yes, those work. I’m not sure I want to present normally. No one is truly normal, and there’s a fault in thinking that those with power should be perfect, but maybe it’s time for the abnormal to be represented. Leaders and people in the public eye might hide their imperfections better, but they still have them. Although we refer to the magicless as humans, we’re all humans, and humans aren’t perfect. While I’m grateful for the library’s help, I think my flaws make me better. I think it’s wrong to act like I don’t have them.”

My brother’s words make my chest puff with pride and my grin widen. He looks like a big dumb brute; sometimes, he acts like it, too. I’m currently the only person who knows he’s intelligent and that his heart is as big as his other muscles.

“I understand your worries,” Avery interjects thoughtfully, “but it might have no bearing on your position as an OSC delegate. You said that you haven’t been cured of your learning disability. You’ll still struggle if you receive reading materials when you arrive at a board meeting. It’s within the library’s power to assist you within her walls. She does this without hesitation because she knows how much we’ve struggled in the past and how much we’ll struggle in the future. A little help is a blessing.” Avery’s tone doesn’t sound as condescending or lecturing as his words might, and I’m pleased when my brother doesn’t take offense. Addington taught him to stay on the offense and quash any threats before they start.

Tense silence falls over the table, and I think we’re holding our breaths in anticipation of a goblin’s arrival. They usually pop up whenever we express uncertainty about the library’s intentions. After several minutes, however, nothing happens. The air around us stays still and unstirred.

Their absence bothers me more than I care to admit. I’d grown accustomed to Duggar and Gilly acting as our personal internet search assistants; it’s like asking Siri or Alexa for information and receiving an answer. I trust the goblins more than I trust automated voices, though. Speaking of Siri, Garrett has barely looked at his phone since we arrived; he used to be attached to it.

“Are the goblins on holiday?” Garrett echoes my concern.

“They must be busy.” I force a casual tone and a shrug to hide my worry. “Maybe they just want us to figure things out on our own for once. They did provide us with these.” I lift the book I’m holding, although I’m uncertain whether it was a goblin or the library that supplied us with the stack. If I start to focus on potential problems, my mood will fall again, so I focus on the book. “Let’s find a name.”

Garrett grunts in reply before glancing toward Avery. The vampire is still hovering near the table as if waiting for an invitation. “Sit down already,” my brother huffs, and I bite my lip to contain my laughter. I’m sure the vampire sees his soft heart under his macho façade.

Avery takes the seat next to me, and we each skim a book. They’re more like dictionaries than stories, but I feel compelled to lose myself in them regardless of the format. If I hyperfocus on choosing the perfect name for my half-brother and me, I won’t think about Zosia’s and Kodi’s combined sadness. Words and definitions delay the horrifying, possible futures awaiting us if they can’t resolve their issues.

Chapter 10

Zosia

When I shut my bedroom door behind me, I block my guardians’ emotions. I’ll still be alerted if any of them face imminent danger, but I need to focus on my emotions for once and ignore everyone else’s.

---