Page 16 of Hex and the Dragon
"I could help everyone," she whispered, her hand tightening on the impossible book. "I could solve every problem, answer every question..."
"At the cost of your soul," Dorian said firmly, and suddenly she felt his hand on her shoulder, warm and real and anchoring her to something beyond the Chronicle's seductive visions. "Ivy, look at me. Really look at me."
She turned from the infinite library to find Dorian's amber eyes blazing with dragon fire and desperate concern. Behind him, she could see the real library, warm and familiar and imperfect in all the ways that made it home.
"This isn't about knowledge," Dorian said intently. "This is about who you choose to be. The Chronicle is offering you perfection, but perfection is static. It doesn't grow, doesn't learn, doesn't discover anything new because it already contains everything."
"But think of what I could accomplish," Ivy protested, though her grip on the impossible book was beginning to loosen.
"Think of what you already accomplish," Dorian countered. "Your curiosity, your dedication, your ability to find connections that no one else sees—that comes from your humanity, from the fact that you don't know everything and still choose to keep searching for answers."
The infinite library began to waver around the edges as Ivy forced herself to focus on Dorian's words rather than the Chronicle's promises.
"Knowledge without struggle has no value," Dorian continued. "Understanding without uncertainty teaches nothing. The Chronicle isn't offering you wisdom—it's offering you the end of growth, the death of discovery."
"But I could help people," Ivy said weakly, the last of her resistance crumbling as she realized the truth in his words.
"You already help people," Dorian said with gentle intensity. "Every translation, every connection you make, every time you choose to keep searching instead of accepting easy answers—that helps all of us become better than we were."
The impossible library dissolved like smoke, leaving them back in the real world with its limitations and uncertainties and beautiful, messy imperfections. Ivy found herself sitting in her favorite chair with tears streaming down her face, Dorian's hands gentle on her shoulders as he anchored her to present reality.
"I almost said yes," she whispered, horrified by how close she'd come to accepting the Chronicle's offer. "I wanted it so badly I could taste it."
"But you didn't," Dorian said firmly. "You chose to come back, chose to remain yourself instead of becoming something else."
"Only because you were here," Ivy admitted. "Only because you reminded me what I'd be giving up."
"Then we'll make sure I'm always here," Dorian said with quiet determination. "Until this is over, until the Chronicle is destroyed, you won't face its temptations alone."
In response to their renewed resistance, the Chronicle's whispers grew colder, more insistent. The fragment was displeased with Ivy's rejection, and she could feel its attentionturning toward other approaches, other vulnerabilities it could exploit.
The real battle was just beginning.
SEVEN
IVY
The autumn equinox was still three days away, but Ivy could feel its approach in the way the Chronicle's whispers grew stronger with each passing hour. The fragment's influence pulsed through Mistwhisper Falls like a heartbeat, synchronizing with celestial forces that made the space itself feel thick with unrealized potential. Even the fog that perpetually clung to the town's edges had taken on an unnatural luminescence, as if lit from within by some alien intelligence.
"Eighty-seven people confirmed lost to the dream state as of this morning," Leo announced from his position at the emergency command center's main table, his voice hoarse from too little sleep and too much crisis management. "That's nearly thirty percent of our population."
"And the rate is accelerating," Aerin added without looking up from her research materials, which now included several ancient texts on celestial magic and its effects on reality-warping entities. "Whatever the Chronicle is planning for the equinox, it's using the approach of that astronomical event to strengthen its hold on people's consciousness."
Ivy felt the truth of that statement in her own mind, where the Chronicle's presence had grown from an ice-cold whisper tosomething closer to a second voice. She'd caught herself having entire conversations with it throughout the morning, discussing magical theory and historical analysis as if it were a trusted colleague rather than a predatory entity trying to consume her consciousness.
"The shadow manifestations are getting bolder too," Cade reported from his position beside the communications equipment, where he'd been coordinating with the few residents still capable of meaningful resistance. "Mrs. Chen saw one walking down Main Street in broad daylight yesterday, and it actually spoke to her. Offered to show her a world where her late husband never died in that car accident."
"Did she accept?" Nico asked with clinical interest, though Ivy could see the concern beneath his scholarly detachment.
"Not yet," Cade said grimly. "But she's been spending more time asleep since then. Lyra's checking on her every few hours to make sure she doesn't slip completely into the dream state."
The Chronicle's satisfaction pulsed through Ivy's consciousness like a satisfied purr. It was pleased with its progress, pleased with how easily the townspeople were succumbing to its perfectly tailored temptations. Each person who chose the beautiful dream over difficult reality made the fragment stronger, more capable of manifesting its influence in the physical world.
"We need to evacuate the most vulnerable residents," Leo said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Get them away from the Chronicle's direct influence before?—"
His words were cut off by a commotion from the town hall's main entrance. Mara Voss burst through the doors with Tilly in her arms, the little girl's eyes wide with terror and her small hands clutching a colorful children's book.
"We have a problem," Mara announced without preamble. "Tilly was reading in the children's section of the library when something... unexpected happened."
