Chapter 4: Twilight Princess

Mike followed Sofia for nearly half a mile down the phantom streets, his eyes constantly searching the dark corners for any sign of real movement. The shadows that meandered along the buildings were slowly coming into focus and now had dim facial features. Shades of gray had appeared to give further definition to the clothes that the phantoms wore.

“Troubling,” Sofia said, pausing to inspect a young child on the sidewalk. The boy was holding up what could have been a newspaper and shouting silently. “The longer we remain, the more details they have.”

“Which means our new friend is pulling energy from somewhere.” Mike inspected himself and then Sofia. The natural magic that surrounded them both was intact. “It’s not coming from us,” he said. “So I guess that’s a positive.”

“I think that this is a manipulation of the ambient energy of all the books in the room. There is plenty of energy there if you know how to utilize it.” Sofia waved her hand through the child’s head. “Hmm. Slight resistance. My skin now feels tacky. If we wait long enough, these ... beings may gain physical forms. What troubles me the most is the state of our actual bodies. Is this a psychic manifestation? Or perhaps a manipulation of the Dreamscape?”

“It’s not the Dreamscape.” Mike concentrated his will and tried to bend reality. It didn’t budge. “And it’s not any sort of astral plane, either.”

“How can you be sure?”

“The Dreamscape and the astral are related. My mastery of one would translate into at least a minimal ability to manipulate the other.” He held out a hand and summoned a spider made of lightning, which he set on the ground. It ran away from them, perpendicular to the direction they traveled.

“You really have mastery of the Dreamscape?” Sofia studied him. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Well, when you have a succubus as your teacher, you get the accelerated course.” Mike didn’t feel the need to explain that a piece of Lily was always waiting for him there, able to assist his efforts. He also wasn’t going to mention the fact that she often dressed as a hot teacher when she did.

“I see.” Sofia studied the sky. “I suppose a pocket dimension is our most likely culprit. The entity in that journal has woven together this place from the memories of the books at hand. If I had my staff, this would be an easy fix.”

“But you don’t. How did that happen, anyway?”

Sofia shrugged. “When the darkness came, I thought I had grabbed it. It was yet another deception. So what is the purpose of trapping us here, keeping in mind that this was Plan B?”

“Plan B?”

She nodded. “The book wished to remain unnoticed and escape confinement. When that failed, it did this to trap us here. We must assume that escape is the primary agenda.”

“You said the book was a journal, right?” Mike scratched his chin and watched what could have been a dog sprint across the road. “Whose journal was it?”

“An aristocrat from the late 1800s,” she replied. “A man named Allen Moore who lived in Mayfair.”

“So Mr. Moore is our entity?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. The journal itself is unnatural and bound in human remains. So we could be facing Moore, or a protective spirit attached to the book. There was no indication it would be so strong, so I wasn’t worried about it.”

“I see.” They continued walking as the facade came into focus around them. Eventually, the road terminated abruptly; the city transitioned to a small village in the forest. Mike stood on the conversion line and noticed that both buildings and trees had been bifurcated sharply, as if two separate scenes had been jammed together.

“We’re in a different book,” said Sofia. “There were hundreds of them in that room.”

“Which means we could be here a really long time,” Mike replied. He noticed that the trees had far more definition than the buildings had, and the villagers walking through the square appeared as if they had been ripped directly from an old silent film. “I wonder if we need to get to Moore’s journal before we can interact with the entity.”

“That would make sense.” Sofia crossed her arms and squinted at a nearby shadow. It was walking toward them and carrying a basket. She drew her sword from her belt and unfolded it. “Unless the creature is hunting us.”

“Yeah, I absolutely hate thinking that might be the case.” Mike and Sofia stepped aside as the shadow passed between them. When it reached the edge of the scene, the figure vanished instead of continuing onto the cobblestone road of the city. “But I’m not too worried about it.”

“You should be.” Sofia rolled her eye. “We’re dealing with a malevolent entity capable of putting together pocket realities to terrorize us.”

“We have one of those at home,” Mike replied. “We call her Jenny.”

Sofia snorted.

“Also,” Mike added. “If we are dealing with a spirit, I have my ways of handling it.”

“And if it’s a demon?”

Mike shrugged. “I’ve got one of those at home, too.”

“You can’t fuck all your problems away, Caretaker.” Sofia walked toward the middle of the village with her sword held at the ready.

“Hey, it’s gotten me this far in life.” Mike did his best to radiate confidence. If they were dealing with a demon, the best way to lure them out was to present himself as an overconfident target. Now if the entity was a malevolent spirit, he could probably handle it himself without any issue. Even if it was more powerful than he was, Cecilia had his back. He wasn’t sure if their enemy was even aware of the banshee’s presence, but he intended to keep that a secret for now.

They walked through the village and beyond it. The scenery broke again and they were now in a port town, with a massive cargo ship being loaded with boxes. The gray-toned figures moving around ignored both of them, but when one walked through Mike, it felt like he was punched in the gut.

“Oof.” He moved off the path and hunched over, rubbing his stomach. “I don’t like that at all.”

Sofia swung her sword through one of the shadows. It split apart where the blade cut, and the figure continued walking with its upper torso trailing a few inches behind. “What do you make of that?” she asked, then gave her sword a disgusted flick. Black ink spattered on the ground before turning into a mist that chased after the worker.

“Limitation of the reality we’re in,” Mike said. He watched as the torso reattached itself and the dockworker continued doing his job. “These look like recordings, so I’m guessing we’re looking at scenes from the books in the Restricted Section. We’re clearly not meant to interrupt them.” He was about to say something else when his magic twinged. Somewhere far away, his lightning spider had been destroyed. It could only mean one thing.

The entity had found it. He summoned three more of the spiders into his hand and sent them back in the general direction from which they had come. If the entity hunted them all, it meant that it had a way to track them via magic. Otherwise, it had just gotten lucky. Either way, it wasn’t nearby, and didn’t seem to have a way to just appear where they were.

“What was that about?” asked Sofia as she took a step toward Mike. A massive cloud of fog rolled between them, obscuring the cyclops from view. Almost right away, Mike felt the distance between him and the spiders he had just summoned shift dramatically. They were no longer nearby.

“Sofia!” He walked forward through the fog, his hands held out to keep him from walking into something. After several moments, the fog thinned out, revealing that he was no longer in the port town. He now stood in what looked like a monastery, lit from above with torches.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Cecilia, are you still with me?”

“I am,” she whispered in his ear. “I’ve been hiding inside of your body this entire time.”

“Kinky,” Mike replied. Apparently the entity controlling this place had a way to shuffle things up. Did it literally shuffle up the pile of books back in the real world? Or was this some sort of massive, psychic effort? What kind of spirit were they dealing with?

The answers wouldn’t come from standing around. He turned toward the entrance of the monastery and walked toward it. The large door creaked when he pushed it open, revealing a vineyard cloaked in fog. Wandering through the vines was a group of monks, all of them working silently as they checked on their grapes. “Any ideas where Sofia might be?”

He felt a chill crawl up his spine as the banshee floated backward out of his body. A few moments later, Cecilia’s teeth nibbled playfully at his right ear. He turned his head in that direction until she stopped.

“That way,” she said breathily. “Her soul is a distant spark.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I wore my running shoes.” He jogged down the hill toward the vineyard and beyond. With any luck, he would reach Sofia before the entity did.

In the back of his mind, he felt the connection with one of his lightning spiders break.

“Caretaker?” Sofia stepped forward through the fog, the sword clutched tightly in her hand. She turned in place, hoping to see a structure or maybe even some shadow people. Her gut churned as if seasick. “Mike?”

The thick fog lifted. She was in the rolling hills of a countryside, surrounded by tall mountain peaks. Toward the bottom of the hill was a small cottage with smoke coming out of its chimney. A river turned a small water wheel attached to the building.

“Fucking gods damn it all,” she muttered. Sofia had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but figured it was a good idea to check the structure first to make sure Mike wasn’t there.

It took about ten minutes to walk down the hill. Outside of the cottage, a pair of horses munched grain from a trough near the barn. A solitary shadow goat hopped around outside. Sofia glared at it, but it didn’t react to her presence.

“Mike?” She knocked on the door of the cottage, then pushed it open. Crouching to fit through its frame, she stepped into the building. There was food cooking on the stove, but it didn’t have a smell. A man with a long beard sat at the table, an array of leaves spread out before him. He was busy drawing one of the leaves in a journal, most likely the one that had gotten pulled off the shelf.

Sofia stabbed the man through the shoulder, but he didn’t react. Sighing, she yanked the blade free flicked it, which created a makeshift Rorschach test on the ground. This guy clearly wasn’t the entity, so she wasn’t in immediate danger.

Still, she was separated from Mike, and couldn’t help but feel guilty that they were even in this predicament. She was the Head Librarian, and should have been more careful. It wasn’t like this was her first time dealing with a possessed book.

Sighing, she closed her eye and took several deep breaths. She couldn’t help but be reminded of Agatha, one of her predecessors and mentor.

When Sofia had fled into the Library for safety, she became part of a group of survivors who had struggled to reestablish the sacred order of librarians. Agatha had been the Head Librarian then, an old woman with silver hair that was always pulled back into a bun. She was the last true Head Librarian, properly educated by those who came before her.

Agatha had been a capable leader. It was through her wisdom that the survivors were able to prosper. She had organized outings to allow Sofia and a couple of others to age into adulthood, all while maintaining the functions of the Library itself. Still, despite attempted intrusions by several different organizations, it was a threat from within that had finally claimed Agatha’s life.

Sofia tried to shut out the memory of watching the life leech from Agatha’s body by a book that had slammed itself shut on her fingers. They had been moving brand new dangerous texts into one of the Restricted Sections when the attack occurred. The Head Librarian’s final act was to use the power of her staff to seal away the book’s magic, turning both her and the book to stone. To this day, Agatha still stood in one of the restricted rooms, her face twisted up in agony. On that day, Calliope had become the new Head Librarian, but she would only last a decade in the role.

Yelling, Sofia grabbed the table and flipped it, causing the leaves to scatter across the room. They moved as if in slow motion, then reversed course as the overturned table shifted back into position. The man at the table didn’t react, but Sofia hadn’t expected him to. After all, he was just an echo.

She kicked the front door of the cottage, ripping it free of its hinges. Before the door could repair itself, Sofia was back outside. She booted the goat, causing the phantom to soar over the barn. As she stomped away from the cottage, she watched the animal tumble back through the air in an attempt to return to its position.

Before it could land, Sofia booted it again. The goat sailed through the air, distorting wildly as it disappeared from sight. She followed the river, knowing that it was a surefire way to avoid going in circles.

Even though her mood was grim, the walk through the woods was oddly soothing. It lacked the sounds and smells of an actual forest, but the gray-scale aesthetic provided plenty of novelty. When was the last time she had casually gone on a hike?

An hour passed in this manner. The river suddenly changed into wood flooring and the forest became a room. Sofia crouched, her body hunched forward as she pushed open the door. The next room was an old kitchen, and a pair of young men were busy peeling potatoes in the corner. Outside the kitchen, a narrow hallway opened up into the interior of a steepled church. A scattering of worshippers were in the pews, their heads bowed in reverence as a priest spoke silently at the lectern.

Taking a deep breath, Sofia found a spot to sit off to the side of the pew. Her feet were a little sore. While her boots were usually comfortable, she wasn’t used to long walks on uneven terrain. She watched the priest, fascinated by the amount of detail she could now make out on his face.

After sitting through the silent sermon, Sofia stepped out the front door of the church. If she had to guess, she was somewhere in Italy. She stuck to the path this time and the scene ended abruptly. She was on a boat in the ocean. Unwilling to swim through the water below it, she turned around and walked along the edge of the scene until she was able to go around it.

Her stomach rumbled. It had been awhile since breakfast. At least she was sober now, and hangover free. If she had been trying to navigate this place in such a state, it wouldn’t have ended well. If she vomited here, would it inevitably end up in a book?

Roughly four scenes later, she found herself in familiar territory. Even though it had been centuries since she had seen it, the streets of Florence, Italy were always memorable. The scene included the Arno river, which Sofia stopped to visit.

From where she stood on the shore, she could see dozens of fish just beneath the surface of the water. She crouched down and hugged her knees, watching the fish glide beneath the surface of the water. After a minute of this, she found a small tree to recline against and let out a sigh.

“What to do, what to do.” She picked up a nearby rock and skipped it across the water. The stone sent ripples out in every direction, then reversed course shortly before completing its journey and sinking beneath the surface. As the stone shot back toward its origin, Sofia noticed that the water’s hue had shifted from gray to green in places. She stood and watched in amazement as the sky above turned blue, and the air filled with the sound of rushing water. The city of Florence was no longer bathed in shades of gray, its full palette now finally revealed.

The cyclops laughed at the burst of color and pulled off her boots. She waded out into the river, watching with intense interest as the water piled up against her shins in an effort to maintain its flow. After stomping her feet experimentally, she tried to snatch a fish from beneath the water. It squirted free of her hands and moved to resume its original pattern.

A few minutes later, Sofia waded back onto the shore and leaned against the small tree once more. Though she had just been in the water, her feet weren’t actually wet. She slid on her boots and let out a loud sigh. The cyclops was no closer to escaping this place, but her mood had lightened considerably. Seeing Florence as it was perhaps three hundred years ago was a treat in itself, and the river was soothing.

Maybe it would be best if she waited for Mike here. She watched the river flow, her thoughts turning inward once more.

“This way.” Lukios gestured for her to follow, the satyr’s hooves clacking on the cold marble tile. Sofia followed, her arms piled high with scrolls. They entered the Head Librarian’s study. Agatha stood over a wooden table, her fingers splayed out as she studied the manuscript in front of her. The old woman glanced up at them as they entered.

“Put them over there,” she said to Sofia, then shifted her eyes to an empty wooden crate in the corner. The young cyclops obeyed, kneeling down and carefully stacking the wrapped scrolls in the box. She tried to ignore the soft sound of Lukios and Agatha exchanging a kiss. It was an open secret that the satyr and the Head Librarian were a couple, but the two of them attempted to keep things proper while in the company of the other Librarians.

Lukios and Agatha exchanged words in a forgotten language, and then the satyr left. Sofia stood at attention, curious why she had been called in to speak with the woman.

“Has Lukios explained anything to you?” Agatha picked up a silver cup and sipped from it. The elderberry wine briefly stained her lips the color of crimson.

“No, ma’am.”

Agatha nodded her approval, then turned her attention to the book on her table. “We’ve lost two more portals this week,” she said. “Due to the witchcraft trials in England.”

Sofia said nothing. She had learned long ago that Agatha preferred silence as proof of contemplation, though she wasn’t able to divine the parallel that Agatha wanted.

“Chronologically, you are an adult now, Sofia. In your late twenties, if my guess is correct.” Agatha smiled. “You’ve been with us for some time, now.”

“Most of my life,” Sofia replied. Ever since she was a child, actually, but that had been stretched artificially into hundreds of years. “My natural one, that is.”

“And you’ve been of service to us during these years. Naturally, you were our first choice for book retrieval duties once you were old enough. It would give you a chance to age naturally while performing a crucial job.” Agatha licked her wine-stained lips and set the glass down. “The portals are a sign of things to come, I’m afraid.”

Sofia waited. The Head Librarian would spell it out eventually.

“You are our youngest member for a reason,” Agatha continued, then closed the book on the table. “Ever since Merlin closed the veil and the Order took up arms, the world has become a dangerous place for magical beings. We thought this might make it easier to recruit more individuals such as yourself, but mythical beings are naturally leery. Sadly, the Order has also seeded themselves among our candidates. They would so love to take this place and call it their own.”

The cyclops snarled at the mention of the Order, but soon recomposed herself. She fidgeted with the handle of the blade in her belt, taken from a knight who had tried to kill her.

“We are planning on locking this place down in the near future.” Agatha’s face was grim. “Other than a few trusted individuals and organizations, I believe it’s in the Library’s best interests to close our doors to the rest of the world.”

“I see.”

“I don’t think you do.” Agatha grimaced. “This decision will not happen immediately, but in the next decade as we officially sever ties and recoup our property. Once this is done, you will no longer be allowed to leave. This life was thrust upon you, Sofia, and I want to make sure you have a choice in the matter.”

“A choice?” Sofia frowned. “What choice?”

“You are an adult now, and a rather formidable one.” Agatha’s gaze dropped to Sofia’s sword. “We took you in that we might save your life. But now? You can stand on your own two feet.”

“Are you ... throwing me out?”

Agatha shook her head. “Slow your thoughts, child. You are jumping to conclusions. Before we close the Library to the world, you must make an important decision. Will you stay here for the rest of your days as a Librarian? Or should you return to the world of men and find your own place there?”

“I want to stay here,” said Sofia. “Earth has nothing I desire. This place is the only family that I have. The world of men is not mine to walk and has nothing for me.”

The Head Librarian shook her head sadly. “That is something you assume only because you have not yet tried to live in the mortal world. Regardless, there will come a day when I ask you this question again, and I hope you have properly thought about it.”

Sofia snorted. She felt that there really wasn’t anything to think about.

Back in the present, Sofia sighed. She hadn’t thought about that day in a long time, and it was only now that she truly appreciated what Agatha had been trying to convey. Crossing her arms, she scowled at her own feet, hating that younger version of herself who had been unwilling to even consider changing her mind.

Sofia’s magic burst to life, her mind filled with a vision of her immediate future.

{Claw-like fingers grabbed her from behind, their vicious tips sinking through the delicate skin of her neck, spilling her blood across the damp soil. Sofia tumbled forward, grasping at her throat as the river ran red with her blood. The world grew dark as life fled her veins, leaving her gasping on the ground.}

Sofia threw herself forward, rolling into a ball as she brought out her sword. Dark claws sank into the wood of the tree, causing it to splinter. A gnarled figure leaned into view, its mouth twisted into a gruesome grin. When it yanked its claws free of the tree, the wood turned black, leeched of its colors.

“So you finally decided to show yourself.” Sofia raised the blade and waited for the creature to charge.

{It melted into the ground, becoming one with her shadow. Caught off guard, Sofia wasn’t fast enough to react when it burst up from between her legs, lacerating her thighs with razor-sharp fingers. Her femoral artery sprayed blood everywhere, and when she tried to stem the flow, the creature opened its mouth and sank its teeth into her face.}

Sofia stabbed her sword into the ground just as the entity became one with her shadow. It let out a squeal like a pig, then slithered away. This time, she didn’t see where it went. Turning in place, she took a cautionary step toward the river, wondering if the flowing water would prevent the entity’s passage.

{A clawed hand burst out of the soil and grabbed her ankle. When Sofia leaned forward to attack it, another hand shot out from the ground and struck her in the face, blinding her. As she stumbled back, she could feel her flesh being opened in a dozen places as if with razor blades.}

The hand burst out of the ground and grabbed her foot. Sofia leaned forward and severed the second hand at the wrist with her sword. The severed hand flopped around on the soil for several seconds before hopping up onto its fingertips and scurrying away.

“I can do this all day,” she said. “So why don’t we speed things along? I’d be happy to end your miserable existence for you right now.”

The cyclops watched as the entity stepped out from behind a distant tree. The severed hand leapt up and rejoined with the main body. The entity hissed at her like a cat, and then crouched down on all fours and bolted away.

“Fuck,” she muttered as she attempted to jog behind it and keep up. She got winded after half a mile and groaned when she saw the creature scale the side of a building. Keeping up wasn’t going to be an option, not in this terrain.

Grumbling to herself, she watched in curiosity as the colors of Florence began to fade. The city slowly dwindled into shades of gray.

Taking several deep breaths, she continued running. She might not be able to follow the entity itself, but she could sure as heck follow the colors it had left behind.

Mike had never taken the opportunity to learn just how long he could run. It wasn’t like he could get away with joining an official marathon without people noticing his presence. From experience, he did know that he could jog comfortably for over an hour without stopping. His stamina was the result of swapping souls with Zel, which also caused his hair to grow extra fast and thick.

Long before he tired, they ran into their first complication: a series of caverns that reminded him very much of pictures he had seen of the catacombs in France. While Cecilia was capable of tracking Sofia, she was unable to help him navigate through the hallways.

Mike scattered his lightning spiders, hoping they would help him map the tunnels. In the distance, one of the decoys he had sent roaming was snuffed out. The entity was somewhere between him and Sofia. Determined to catch up to Sofia, he was forced to wait until his magic provided him the fastest route to the exit.

One of the spiders started running in circles, the sign that it was now somewhere new. The other spiders migrated in its direction, some of them being forced to turn around and go back. Mike followed the spider and was stumped when he came to a room piled high with bones.

“What the hell?” He held out a hand full of light. “How do we get through here?”

Cecilia appeared and floated up toward the ceiling. She pointed at a narrow gap large enough for Mike to squirm through above the pile of bones.

“Ugh,” he muttered, then climbed onto the bones and pulled himself onto the ledge. The gap was only one foot tall and a couple of feet wide. He couldn’t see the exit, the tunnel was completely dark only a few feet in. “Can you float ahead and make sure I can fit through the other side? I don’t want to crawl backward through this.”

Cecilia kissed him on the cheek and floated forward. Her body gave off plenty of light to see by, up until she disappeared around a corner. When she returned, she gave him a thumbs up. Mike sighed and continued forward. It didn’t matter how many years had passed, crawling through narrow passageways reminded him of his car accident long ago. The smell of phantom smoke tickled his memories, but he kept his mind on the task ahead.

He squirmed through the tunnel until he was in a cavern with a cot crammed into a rocky alcove. At a desk, a person wearing thick robes huddled over a book, writing by candlelight.

“Why couldn’t more of these assholes have written their memoirs somewhere nice?” Mike grumbled as he maneuvered his body to drop down from the gap in the ceiling. He landed in a crouch, then lost his balance and fell on his butt.

“You told me once that you didn’t care where we were, as long as we were together.” Cecilia offered him a hand, which he took. “Also, there was something about my ethereal beauty being the only light you would ever need.”

“What?” Mike stared at the banshee. “I know I can be cheesy, but that sounds a bit much.”

“You were drunk.”

“Oh.” Mike cleared his throat. He didn’t want to hurt Cecilia’s feelings but definitely didn’t remember saying what she claimed. “Um ... yeah, when I was saying those things, I know I meant them on some level, but I, uh...” He noticed that the banshee was smirking. “Are you fucking with me?”

Cecilia nodded, then stuck out her tongue.

He actually laughed, the echo filling the caverns. The tension broke, and he set his spiders on the ground and allowed them to roam. The way out didn’t require any crawling through tunnels, though he did have to turn sideways to squirm through another gap. Cecilia was able to float ahead of him, her skirt occasionally billowing up to reveal the backs of her thighs. When she looked back to check on him, he couldn’t help but notice that she tilted her body forward to give him a better look.

“Things are looking up,” he muttered to himself. Instead of leaving the cave, they ended up stepping right into an old library. Tattered books lined the shelves, and a woman stood in the middle of the room with an alchemy table. She was busy mashing something up with a mortar and pestle. Mike sniffed the air, but it lacked any sort of scent. On the floor, his spider was running in circles, much like a dog with the zoomies. He stuck his foot out, and the magic returned to him, humming with satisfaction.

The library was actually some kind of tower in a castle. Mike and Cecilia got lost trying to navigate the stairs and leave the building. The banshee floated up to the top of a parapet and returned to his side.

“We’re a bit closer,” she said. “It seems like she’s stopped.”

“First rule of being lost,” he said. “Stay where you are until someone can find you.”

“That only works if both parties aren’t lost.” Cecilia put her hands on her hips and grinned. She sashayed her hips and drifted toward him. “She doesn’t know that I’m here or that we’re tracking her.”