Page 17 of Gifted Destiny

I grin in response. “The library wants to share her secrets with you after your many years of loyalty.” I almost choke on my words when the length of that time span is revealed; it’s nearly three hundred years. Disbelief nearly makes my brain malfunction.

“Sage also suggests that you reconsider the position of academy dean after we’ve thoroughly cleansed the faculty andstudent body. Apocrypha should live up to its legacy instead of continuing to function as a daycare for the next generation of elites.” The words are my own, but the meaning is synonymous.

Tremayne chuckles. “When Addington’s and Walthers’ influence has been banished from Apocrypha, I shall gladly do as she suggests. I look forward to a partnership based on trust and mutual cooperation instead of threats and bribes.”

He refers to the university’s current mode of operations, and I nod with approval and agreement. Sage and he share a similar optimism that we will defeat our enemies. Once we form an honest alliance between the library and the campus, our relationship will provide an example to our region’s supernaturals.

The words ring in the air like a pact already forged, and the mage takes his leave soon after. He promises to return after a private farewell to Ansel that brings tears to the younger shifter’s eyes. The mage might be an honored guest, but Ansel’s transformation is the library’s private business.

Chapter 10

Zosia

After the doors latch behind Tremayne, Duggar appears. I’ve barely seen him in the last few days because he’s been preoccupied with teaching my guardians their duties. Tiny clues offer insight into his frazzled nature. His wings flutter more erratically and twitch even when they’re not in use. His face also appears more drawn, but this observation might be a trick of the fading light.

After several years of closure to the public, today heralded a return to business for the goblins. Their main task is to fetch books that students can’t access and deliver them to the book drop behind the circulation desk. All the while, they remain out of sight. No one but the library’s trusted employees – and now Tremayne – are aware of their existence.

“How are you and the others faring after our grand opening?” I ask the stout goblin.

“We are faring as well as can be expected, young sphinx. The morning’s events are worrisome, but the recommended plan meets our approval. We updated the wards and protection measures while you were talking. Unfortunately, extended closures always place us at a disadvantage. Magic and technology advance while our doors are barred.”

The goblin sits on the edge of an empty table, placing his perspective between the level of mine and the men’s gazes. I appreciate his consideration. It’s tiresome to look upward continuously.

“Our first priority was to increase our security against the personal communication devices that every blasted patron carries. One of the telecommunications companies is owned by supernaturals, and they’ve refined their abilities to bypass our rules. Garrett’s device provided us with a head start, but it still required time and effort. Prioritizing these devices over other spells is the reason why today proved difficult. We were overly concerned with our patrons recording or sharing images of the library and her materials.”

“You hacked my phone?” Garrett’s tone is more surprised than angry. His tension disappeared entirely when Tremayne confirmed my parentage. Although I don’t watch him all of the time, he doesn’t spend much time on his phone. The primary use is streaming music for his workouts.

I honestly don’t understand the overwhelming importance of maintaining the library’s secrecy. Most books can be removed from the library, and the most dangerous texts and relics are inaccessible and hidden. Photos of the floors themselves offer little.

I conclude that the primary security threat might be exposing the employees’ weaknesses, including mine. After being dismissed and ignored for so long, I struggle with my newfound importance. Attacking me is an attack on the library, though. My grandmother’s story makes this abundantly clear.

“Master Ansel.” Duggar bows toward the shifter while I try to ignore the hated word. I’d tried to discourage its use, but old habits are difficult to break. “As the interim protector, you have proven your worth to the library, and she’s honored that you’ve accepted the position as sentinel. Your predecessor is weary andanticipating eternal rest.” The formal words make Ansel’s chest puff with pride despite his exhaustion.

I can’t help but imagine a different past and present. What if Karasi had accepted her position as librarian? What if Agustin didn’t abandon my grandmother? Would Ansel have become one of my mother’s guardians? Could I have played hide and seek among the stacks, surrounded by books?

It’s a fantasy. If my grandmother and mother hadn’t encountered the difficulties they had, Ansel might not have returned to Apocrypha. I wouldn’t exist, or I wouldn’t be the same. My childhood made me into who I am today.

Avery senses my swirling emotions and returns to rest a gentle hand on my shoulder. His touch reminds me that an easier life might not have led me to my guardians. The pain and horror I’ve experienced contrast greatly with the promise of a life with these four men. If I’d grown up sheltered and surrounded by magic, I might not see them as the gift they are. I reach up to clasp my bonded mate’s hand before returning my attention to the present moment.

“I’m ready.” Ansel’s voice rings with finality and determination.

I blink with surprise. It’s not a typical death because he’ll retain a semi-conscious state and his memories for a time. Still, all sensation, desire, and emotional attachment will fade. I find the prospect almost crueler than the eternal rest awaiting the retiring gargoyle. My ideology leads me to believe a void of nothingness will greet me when I die. I’ll welcome it if I have a long life, but neither is certain.

“What’s next?” I ask.

“It’s a simple process.” The library goblin’s tone is more casual than before, and I wonder how many times he’s welcomed a sentinel.

A book appears, ending my meandering thoughts. It’s familiar and nearly as large as the goblin that sits next to it. I assume that the contract book holds every agreement the library has ever entered, but it isn’t designed for inquiries. It only opens to the required page when summoned and disappears when not in use.

“The first step is always the contract,” Duggar replies. “After Ansel signs, we’ll head to the roof. We need to meet with the gargoyle captain and George – the sentinel seeking retirement.”

My lips twist with unexpected amusement. George the Gargoyle; the name is ridiculous, but he was a man before becoming a gargoyle. As for the captain, I believe I’ve looked through his eyes more than once. It will be nice to meet him officially.

“Is it painful?” My mind provides a gruesome image of being suffocated in stone, although it’s probably less cartoonish and more magical.

Duggar seems unwilling to answer at first. “If the transformation isn’t designated as a punishment, Captain Etienne will remove the human’s capacity for physical sensation before the process begins.”

I wince. My feline curiosity earns me answers I’m not sure I want.

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