Chapter Six
Sera found the five-story neoclassical building with its sandstone columns and climbed the granite steps to the Cleveland Public Library. Inside the massive double doors, her footsteps echoed across marble floors. Above her, the Terrestrial Globe light glowed with a simulation of a Da Vinci map, casting the entrance in a quiet, scholarly hush. For one brief moment, the place felt soothing. Safe. She drew in a slow, cleansing breath and approached the librarian’s desk. The woman behind it looked up from her book and raised one eyebrow. Sera cleared her throat. “Can you tell me where I can find information on the...” She lowered her gaze, then looked past the woman toward the stacks. “The supernatural? Rare books, maybe. Old texts on myths and legends.”
For a moment, the librarian only stared at her, startled recognition flickering in her dark eyes. Then she gave a quick shake of her head, as if clearing away a thought, and stood. She came around the counter, small and oddly delicate despite the stern set of her shoulders. Her long blue skirt was stained at the hem, and her blouse pulled tight across a slight paunch. She stopped in front of Sera and sniffed the air.
“Sorry,” the librarian said at last. “Lost in thought. What was it you wanted?” A strange tug moved through Sera, a prickle of déjà vu that made the hairs at her nape rise. She had never met this woman, and yet something about her felt familiar in the way old dreams sometimes did. “I’m searching for ancient texts on legends and mythologies,” Sera said carefully. “Do you have that kind of collection?”
The librarian’s mouth curved into a wan smile. She returned to her perch behind the desk and opened her book again, no longer looking at Sera. “Supernatural section. Sixth floor.” She waved one narrow hand toward the stairwell. “Speak with the reference librarian there if you want access to the collection. Much of it is locked up.”
Sera stood motionless for a beat. Sixth floor? The building directory had listed only five. She mumbled a thank-you and turned toward the stairs. The comfort she had felt at the entrance vanished. She could have taken the elevator, but she wanted the work of climbing. She wanted each step to remind her she still had a body, still had choices, still had strength enough to move under her own power.
As Sera disappeared into the stairwell, the librarian lifted her head and watched her go, studying the movement of her legs, the angle of her shoulders, the way she carried herself. She waited until Sera’s footsteps curved upward and faded. Then she snatched up her cell phone and dialed. “You won’t believe what just walked through our door,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen one before.” She listened, eyes narrowing. “Yes. You’ll know her by her aura. Slightly tainted, but still unmistakable. I sent her to the sixth floor.” The voice on the other end rose sharply. The librarian held the phone away from her ear until the shouting stopped, then tucked it into her pocket and hurried toward the elevator.
On the fifth-floor landing, Sera stopped to catch her breath. When her lungs steadied, she looked up and froze. An open doorway stood before her where no doorway should have been. Beyond it, another flight of stairs climbed into dimness. The map had shown five floors. The librarian had been right. There was a sixth. Sera filled her lungs and started up. At the top, she found neat rows of stacks and no one waiting. No reference librarian. No locked room. Only shelves labeled occult, supernatural, beasts, demons, witchcraft. She moved down the aisle, scanning titles for anything that might help her stop the thing pursuing her. The longer she searched, the more the silence pressed around her. Then one book seemed almost to glow beneath her hand. She pulled it free. Its pages smelled of dust and age as she carried it to a small desk beneath a reading lamp. The book fell open as if it had been waiting. A chapter on supernatural dogs stared up at her. One passage seized her attention: black dogs that presaged disaster or death, though some protected sacred spaces or lost travelers. The Barghest. The Grim. Then she saw the weakness printed below. It could not cross rivers. Sera’s pulse quickened. Was this chance, or mercy? She had not seen a dog. Not yet. But since the fall, she had heard nothing from the realm she had lost. No message. No forgiveness. Wonder rose through her so sharply it hurt. Was this a clue?
Behind her came a soft shuffling, like skirts brushing over old paper. A layered drift of scents reached her first: lavender, plain soap, damp shoes, rose perfume, and something bright beneath them all, almost mineral. Sera turned. A half circle of women stood around her. They did not speak. They only watched. She rose slowly, keeping her hands visible, and quieted her mind the way she did before difficult work. Her fear thinned, replaced by wary curiosity. “Can I help you?”
The women tittered behind their hands. One stepped forward. Her gray hair fell loose down her back, and laugh lines framed the corners of her mouth. Her blue eyes were startlingly intense. “No, no,” she said, touching Sera’s sleeve with a careful hand. “But we might be able to help each other.” Then, as if some silent signal had passed among them, the women turned and glided toward the stairs.
The last woman paused on the top step and looked back. “Keep the book.”
Sera stood rooted in place. “What on heaven and earth...” she whispered. She crept to the stairwell and peered around the corner. The women were gone. When she turned back, shadows had gathered between the shelves. They seemed to loosen from the corners and drift toward her. Clutching the book to her chest, Sera shut the door behind her and hurried down the stairs, desperate for the outside world, for open air, for any lingering trace of sunlight.
TO BE CONTINUED