Page 21 of Librarian

Gone is the old-world beauty, replaced with modern utilitarian efficiency. Even the chandeliers dripping with wisplights have been turned into ugly, fluorescent bars hanging from the white drop ceiling.

The doors are missing.

There used to be random doors everywhere. Tiny ones squirrelled away on the shelves. Huge ones that blocked entire aisles. Weirdly shaped ones that didn’t really fit anywhere. Some weren’t even attached to the walls; they simply popped up in the middle of a corridor and forced patrons to walk around them, then disappeared by the next morning. Now the only doors that remain are the ones in the foyer. The lack of other entry points funnels everyone into a dumbfounded crowd that bumbles along what was once Botanical Hall, moving towards the Rotunda. All of them are wearing expressions of stunned disbelief.

We were relying on having hundreds of escape routes if things went wrong. This is an absolute disaster.

North, Jasper, and Lambert are all looking around with the same cold horror on their faces. It’s like the Arcanaeum has had its soul torn out. Like you’ve come home and found someoneelse already living in your gaff, with all your stuff out on the street.

Like the death of a friend.

And I…I did this. I handed myself to Mathias in my desperation, and it led to this.

Feck. This is all my fault.

The realisation is crushing.

Even if Kyrie lives, she’ll never, ever forgive me for this. I wouldn’t deserve it if she did. My eyes burn, and the building blurs for a second before I can blink the tears away.

“This ispreposterous!” Hopkinson’s voice rises over the din, hot with indignation. “I had an agreement with the Librarian. This is where my classes are held three times a week. I demand to speak with her.”

“The Librarian is gone.” The feminine voice that answers him is snooty and condescending. “I’ve been employed by Parriarch Mathias?—”

“Parriarch!” Hopkinson puts both hands on his hips, puffing up like an angry walrus. “He’s a vicegerent!”

The woman continues regardless, “—And Rector Carlton, to direct patrons during this time of transition.”

We can’t enter the Rotunda, it’s too packed, but between the heads of the gathered arcanists, I can see a blonde Carlton woman in her fifties facing down the magister and several other patrons with unveiled contempt.

She’s standing behindKyrith’sdesk.

Only the grand circular piece of furniture is gone too. Polished walnut and green leather have been traded in for more chrome, plastic, and glass. The dozens of tiny drawers are gone in favour of steel filing cabinets.

“Transition?” a student just inside the doorway interrupts. “None of the books are legible!”

Despite his anger, her polished mask is faultless as she replies, “The volumes on the ground and first floor are experiencing some short-term technical issues, but books in the towers are still perfectly functional.”

An older woman nearer the desk huffs impatiently. “Stop playing games, Karoline. Where is the Librarian?”

“The Librarian was a relic and, frankly, beyond ready for retirement.” Karoline’s smile doesn’t dim as she spews more bullshit. “The Parriarch and Rector are well aware of the issues faced during this unprecedented time, and are doing everything they can to smooth the process.”

“But what about my class!” Hopkinson protests.

“I’m afraid all agreements made with the previous Librarian are null and void.” She raises one hand in a shooing motion. “You’ll have to raise a petition with the parriarchs if you want to continue, but between you and me, I don’t see it happening. This space is far too valuable to waste on weak liminals. The Rector hopes to restrict this research space to adepts only in the near future.”

“Weak?!”

“Adepts only!?”

“What are you on?”

“They can’t do that!”

“Jog on!”

“Say that to my face, you stupid slag.”

The objections rise, swelling with anger until Karoline is forced to raise her voice to be heard.