The girls vanished.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lenora’s Light
Something was wrong. Rosa had said it would teleport Lenora and Ada to meet Zenodotus at last. But instead of standing before the dashing and courageous librarian, they were standing in one of the offices Lenora had seen when she’d first arrived. And it was completely empty, with no desk, shelves, or windows. Lenora immediately tried the door.
It was locked.
From behind them came a popping sound, and a cough. The girls whipped around.
A startling sight met them. It was a young girl, younger than Ada even, and she was dressed in a long purple raincoat. In her hand she held a device with a single button, which she was pressing firmly. Lenora’s arms prickled with goose bumps, as had happened with the woman in the red raincoat and the man in the green. She knew it could be no coincidence, but she hadn’t time to think on it further, as the girl crept closer and spoke.
“Little Lenora,” the girl chuckled, in a voice that suggested a much older being. “I sensed some sort of teleportation involving you, and I have interrupted it in order to bring you wonderful news.”
Lenora’s heart began to pound. Whatever this news was, she was certain it was anything but wonderful.
“Now wait just a minute,” announced Ada. “What are you, seven years old? We need to find your parents!”
The girl ignored her, staring directly at Lenora. “The resistance of the Assistant Answerer—that Malachi woman—has been discovered. And so—we ate her. The soul of such a being was most delicious.”
“No,” whispered Lenora in horror. This couldn’t be. Malachi devoured? Then everything was lost.
“Malachi?” said Ada skeptically. “That ten-foot-tall woman? No way you could devour her, whatever that means.”
“No, it’s true,” Lenora continued in a whisper. “I can feel it. She’s gone.”
The girl in the raincoat continued, “And the Director has finally fired the last of the librarians, including you.”
“What?!” shouted Ada. “Daddy wouldn’t fire Lenora!”
The girl ignored her.
Lenora knew it was true. She could feel it. She was no longer a librarian. She had no right to be here any longer.
The girl reached out her hand. “Now, come with me. You must be … escorted … from the premises.”
“Don’t do it!” seethed Ada. “I’ll talk to Daddy. None of this is true!”
Lenora reached out to take the girl’s hand. It was time, she knew, to leave.
“No!” shouted Ada, and swatted the girl’s hand away. The girl dropped the device, which went clattering across the floor, and she leapt after it with a scream, and—
The girl and the office and everything else vanished.
Now Ada and Lenora were no longer standing in an ugly, neon-lit office. Instead, they found themselves in a vast and dimly lit room. The only light came from torches flickering weakly along the walls. The tall double doors behind them were padlocked, and the view down the length of the room was obscured by the darkness and by the many tall columns holding up the ceiling high above. Along the walls were alcoves stuffed with scrolls, and around the floor were scattered many old, dusty objects, like shields and small carved animals and old paintings. The whole place felt like an abandoned museum, but of course Lenora knew it was not abandoned. Someone must be keeping the torches lit.
“What happened back there?” whispered Ada. This felt like a place where one must whisper.
“I don’t know,” said Lenora quietly. “But thank you. I can see now that those were lies. I don’t know why I couldn’t tell at the time.”
Ada nodded. “I’m just glad we’re out of there. That kid gave me the creeps. So where do we go now?”
“Forward,” Lenora whispered. “There’s nowhere else to go.”
The two girls walked, their footsteps echoing around and around. Soon they could make out a little bubble of light at the far end of the room, and as they drew closer they saw a man sitting at a desk piled with papers that seemed dangerously close to several lit candles. He was wearing a blue robe and was slumped forward with his face in his hands. Beside him was an inkpot with a feathery quill dipped inside.
“Zenodotus?” said Lenora cautiously.
The man threw himself back in his chair, wide-eyed with alarm, and the girls recoiled.
“What?” he cried. “How? How did you get in here?” Then he collapsed back in his chair, one hand over his heart.
Lenora looked him over. He had a shock of brown hair that curled into a sharp tip, ancient spectacles on the end of his nose, and, of course, an elaborate mustache that curled at both ends.
“We were transferred here,” Lenora explained, “by an alien archeologist from Zarmina’s World in the Gliese 581 star system.”
“Of course,” mused the man, who seemed to be recovering. “I should have thought of that. But how do you know who I am? And why did you come here?”
Lenora hesitated, looking all around.
“Do not worry,” said Zenodotus. “There are no listening devices here. The Forces of Darkness do not know of this place, and even if they did, they stopped bothering with me some time ago.”
“Malachi told me to find you,” said Lenora. “I don’t know why. But it must have something to do with the Library being taken over by the Forces.”
“Malachi,” sighed Zenodotus. “I told her I did not wish to be found ever again.”
“But why? Don’t you want to help take the Library back?”
“Lenora, the Library is being lost because of me. For thousands of years, the Library has been overseen by the Board, a body of three of the wisest and most honorable of all librarians. The membership changed from time to time, and it was my job to ensure the Board’s sanctity as it changed. But I failed.”
“Something happened?” ventured Lenora.
“Yes. I was not able to see through the deceptions of the newest members. They appeared to me as clever, and cautious, and strong, and I was easily fooled. And so it is I who have brought us nearly to destruction.”
“But how?” asked Lenora. “What changed for you?”
Ada leaned toward Lenora, whispering with the side of her hand covering her mouth. “He said he’s, like, thousands of years old. Maybe he’s, y’know, losing it.”
“Shush!” said Lenora.
Ada shushed.
“I have suffered many defeats, children,” Zenodotus replied, his voice shaking. “Too many to count. I lost at the great Library of Alexandria, and I lost at the House of Wisdom in Baghdad. And so many more—the Library of Banu Ammar, and Madrassah, and the Maya codices, and the libraries of the Kings of Burma…” He faltered, placing his hand over his face. “For a long time I was able to maintain the same spirit Malachi still possesses, a spirit that I see you possess as well. But then the defeats overwhelmed me, and I lost that most precious and wonderful thing. I lost it so gradually I did not realize it was leaving me. And during this time, this distracted and heart-wrenching time, the Board was infiltrated by the Forces, and I did not see it. And thus my defeat was final.”