Dread settled into Quinn’s stomach as the massive dragon’s head began to register fully. Not only that, but a small niggling part of her brain worried about the fact that Hal apparently hadn’t been able to sense the dragon and the illusion, either. Add to that the fact that Quinn’s own sensory abilities had been utterly convinced by the massive mountain and the shadows, and Quinn felt entirely uneasy.

  Completely and utterly stumped as to what she could say, how she could answer.

  And totally overwhelmed by the fact that the pressure and power bearing down on her felt like it could squash her like a rather insignificant insect.

  “Are all of you like this?” She found herself murmuring as she looked up into the moo-like eyes.

  The dragon blinked at her, likely not expecting a question as an answer to a question. The eyes narrowed, and she sniffed the air around Quinn again. “I’m not a patient dragon. Answer the question.”

  Quinn gulped. She wasn’t sure if she should be answering the question, trying to play for time, or else attempting to mislead this sister. The Library hadn’t been the most forthcoming on how to deal with this and frankly, Quinn wasn’t entirely sure if they should all run in fear or not. She squared her shoulders and, considering Hal hadn’t even stepped in yet, made what might be a rash decision. “I’m the Librarian.”

  The eyes watching her didn’t relent, and another whoosh of warm breath exited from those nostrils. Probably in irritation.

  “Halithrija!” Drukala practically screeched, making it obvious that she was definitely not a patient dragon. “Stop trying to blend into the background and explain why you woke me up from my damned nap.”

  Hal chuckled and most of the tension leaked out of Quinn’s body. He rolled his shoulders, stepping to stand more in line with Quinn. “It might be better if we were to talk somewhere with more protections.”

  His voice was pitched low and a waver of presence pressed against Quinn’s mind, as if it was asking her to look away, or perhaps more accurately, to hear away. To discourage her from listening to them.

  Drukala glanced back at Quinn. “You still smell like my sibling... don’t think you won’t still have to answer.”

  A soft breeze blew through the camp, shadows pulling in rapidly around the eyes, which shrunk down rapidly until they were just a few inches above Quinn.

  She blinked, watching as a tall and slender woman stood in front of her with round and completely silver eyes all the way through the sclera. Her hair was waist-length, wisps of silver, black, and shades of red scattered through ever so subtly. “If any damage comes to my lair, I will hold you responsible, King of Halschius.”

  Hal just inclined his head as if he’d been expecting that all along.

  Some of the sense of foreboding had disappeared, and Quinn heaved a sigh of relief. Even though something still bothered her at the back of her mind. So much of this seemed too easy, and especially since coming to the Library, Quinn had learned that if something appeared to be too easy, then odds were, they’d overlooked something.

  Drukala reached out a hand and at first Quinn was sure something magical was about to happen, perhaps a spell, a stasis, something toward her... but as the dragon snapped her fingers and the world shifted, Quinn had to admit she didn’t see that coming.

  It only took about half a second, but was enough that when the world came back into focus, Quinn almost lost her footing, sliding down to one knee. She turned, noticing that they were, in fact, in a huge cavern that reminded her of the filtration chamber sans mana and energy. The whole camp set up was still positioned precisely where it had been in relation to them, and if Quinn wasn’t mistaken, no one inside even stirred.

  Drukala’s face was visible in the flickering light of the cave. There were hints of pearlescence in her features, an almost translucent quality. Quinn wonders if the Library looked like that back when it was fully dragon.

  “Of course Drev did.” Drukala peered at Quinn, stepping in closer, entering her personal space. “You are an enigma you would both do well to enlighten me about right now. Five minutes. I’m feeling generous. And don’t worry, your companions won’t wake up. If I need to kill you all, at least I can promise their deaths will be painless.”

  There was no hint of mirth in any of those words, and Quinn found her own irritation beginning to simmer. “You can’t just kill them because you’re in a mood.”

  Drukala raised a very delicate eyebrow. “And why can’t I do that? What, ever so persuasive argument do you possess, that would make me think twice about not punishing someone who. Woke. Me. Up.”

  Quinn at least had the decency to cringe. Her quasi aunt definitely wasn’t wrong per se... But just as the Librarian was about to apologize, Drukala turned to Hal with a frown, effectively ignoring Quinn’s presence.

  “Explain.”

  Hal sighed. “You need to stop being so dramatic.”

  Drukala hissed deep in her throat. “You’re on dangerous ground here, Hal. I like you. I’ve always had a soft spot for your people. But I was sleeping, and I was extremely well hidden. For extremely good reasons. Now tell me why are you here, and how is this thing here...” she gestured vaguely in Quinn’s direction... “attempting to impersonate my damned sibling who cannot, if I may remind you, move like a dragon anymore and thus couldn’t possibly be here to see me. So start talking, old man, before I lose my patience.”

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  Tendrils of smoke curled up all over Drukala’s body, and Quinn felt something primal inside herself creeping forward, like it too wanted to answer the call.

  “Quinn.” Hal said before even deigning Drukala with a response. “Clamp it down. Remember what you learned.” Then he turned back to the dragon, a distinct sneer to his lips. “Use your brain. Just because you woke suddenly doesn’t mean you can threaten me.”

  Quinn’s impressed that his voice didn’t shake. She knew hers would have. Perhaps he was more powerful than she’d realized.

  “Four minutes.” Was the only answer Drukala gave.

  Hal sighed again in a way that reminded Quinn of her dad before he died, when he’d been particularly annoyed at having to explain something simple. “Have you checked to see if you have any messages from while you were sleeping?”

  Drukala seemed taken aback. “Why would...” Then her face underwent a change. She scowls. “You could have opened with that.”

  “Didn’t really give me a chance, did you?”

  “Fine. That’s still not enough. Drev has been trying to wake me for a while. Why wouldn’t you have brought Lynx with you?” She scowled, obviously annoyed that she hadn’t thought to check any possible information she might have had sooner. Then, as soon as her attention changed previously, she redirected it to Quinn again. “Librarian then? Where is Lynx?”

  “He’s...been damaged.” That was all Quinn could think of to say, and then she added hurriedly. “But he’s going to be okay. We’re making sure he heals up.”

  “Now I know you’re lying. Lynx can’t get sick.” Drukala opens her mouth in such a wide smile that it shouldn’t fit on her face. Far too many sharp teeth fit in that overly large smile. “Start talking. Why do you smell like Drev?”

  Quinn glared right back at the dragon. “Because the Library is basically my freaking mother, that’s why.”

  To say Drukala looked shocked would be an understatement. She actually took a step back and shook her head as if clearing out her hearing. “Excuse me? I thought you said you’re my niece...”

  “I did. Sort of. In a weird scientifically and magically genetically engineered way,” Quinn crossed her arms, putting the full display of her complete and utter stubbornness on display.

  Drukala stood there for several seconds, not blinking, not moving. The only thing that separated her from a statue in that moment was the flickering behind her eyes, similar to that which goes behind Lynx’s eyes when he’s in the middle of communicating and synching up to the system and Library servers. Finally, she blinked. “That doesn’t...” then turned to Hal again, her uncertainty obvious.

  “Not a lie. Last ditch effort to bring the Library back from the brink of extinction.”

  “Wait... what? When... how did I miss this? I’ve not even been asleep a millennia!” Drukala’s eyes flickered through several panicked colors.

  Quinn took a step back, just in case. She wasn’t entirely sure how much control a shapeshifting dragon had over their form when they were riled up.

  Hal, on the other hand, moved forward several steps. He took them slowly, cautiously, hands raised in a soothing motion. “Just under five hundred years ago, the Library was attacked and had to enter survival mode.”

  A flicker of worry passed over Drukala’s features. “Why...” she holds up a hand, taking in deep breaths. “That doesn’t make much sense. I know Drev was feeling off, as if something wasn’t quite right. But it’s not like the Library can hibernate right? Not in the proper way a dragon needs to... I thought that’s all it was...”

  “The Library is back now, though. Almost back at full strength, even.” Quinn didn’t quite understand why, but she felt this compulsion, this complete need to help her aunt, to make her feel better.

  Drukala perks up. “Is that why you came to see me? So I could perhaps help get everything back in full working order? Although, if I remember correctly... that’s not exactly something I can help with. The direct transfer of magical energy isn’t exactly how it works. It’s only a small portion of the Library’s intake.” She frowned, clearly confused.

  Hal crossed his arms, a quizzical look on his face. “You were sleeping for less than a millennium then?”

  Drukala was silent for several seconds. “Yes. Far less. About seven hundred and fifty-three years to be precise.”

  “And this security illusion to prevent people from reaching you... was that a failsafe or deliberate?” Hal asked, his voice very soft, gentle, like he’s handling her with kid gloves.

  “Failsafe and partially deliberate. As in, it’ll trigger if someone is trying to reach me. Moreso if they have ill intentions. Had to keep the local folk away from my lair, or else I’d never get sleep.” She glanced up at Hal. “You should at least remember hibernation procedure.”

  “I do, but it’s important to know if we triggered it, or if you triggered it while being awake.”

  “You woke me as soon as you stepped foot on this world. I could smell her...” Drukala turned back to Quinn. “I could smell you. So similar to Drev and yet not. For a few seconds I had hope...” There was a melancholy echo to her words.

  The awkward silence spread. Quinn wasn’t sure how to address it. Even though she didn’t quite understand how the magic behind the Library’s transformation had worked, she did know it was irreversible.

  “Well!” Drukala clapped her hands together. “I do apologize for scaring you, if I did. Truth be told, I hadn’t expected Drev to have a type of offspring.”

  Quinn blushed and Hal cleared his throat. “Is this a regular lair for you?”

  She nodded. “Well, I mean I rotate between about thirty of them. Can’t be too careful, you know. Now... tell me, what brings you here to see your aunt?”

  Quinn grimaces. Because it’s not like it was a social call. “You have a book we need. We were just hoping it was you who borrowed it, and that it wasn’t placed there by someone else.”

  “Well, go on. What book is it? I have several... my Library membership comes with perks like not having to return them as often as everyone else.” She said the last smugly.

  “The Parsneauvian Theory of Spatial Dimension Manipulation,“ Quinn says, without missing a beat.

  Hal interjected smoothly before the dragon could even give a response. “It’s been removed from Library records for some reason and we traced it to you. Please tell me Drav didn’t give it to you.” His tone sounds light, but Quinn feels a shudder run down her spine.

  “What are you talking about?” Drukala asked, her bewilderment obvious. “Of course I have the book.”

  “Why? It’s restricted for a reason.” Hal sounded like he had trouble keeping his temper.

  But now Drukala just looked utterly baffled. “Because Drev asked me too silly.” She laughs.

  Quinn blinks. “What?”

  Drukala’s confusion is practically palpable. “Because the Library asked me to take and keep it safe. Why in the universe would I be interested in Spatial Dimension Manipulation?” Her laugh tinkles like raindrops on glass.

  Quinn wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It meant the Library still had a lot more to remember. And worse, it meant the feeling of foreboding Quinn had been feeling since they stepped foot in this world had nothing to do with Drukala.

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