The Library of the Unwritten - A. J_ Hackwith Page 0,16

that to all the books to avoid their going missing like this?”

“There are limits. It . . . takes a little from the head librarian to administer and maintain a stamp.” Brevity chewed on her lip.

Leto glanced back at the shop window. “What do you think he’s saying? You mentioned something about fixing stuff.”

Brevity started to shrug, but Claire made them both jump by answering. “There’s no fixing that damage.”

“What damage, though?” Leto asked after a moment of surprise. “I mean, he’s handsome. I’ll give him that. But it seems like just a date . . . ?”

Claire didn’t turn her attention away from the couple in the window. She drew in a long breath. “Books don’t appear as normal people to their authors. Characters are made of something more to the one who created them. They’re made of our dreams, our scars, slivers stuck beneath our skin. You’re not meant to meet someone like that. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s talking to the most alive person she’ll ever meet. The kind of alive you don’t find in real life. No one, no great love or her own flesh and blood, will ever come close. She’ll remember that glint in his eyes, the twist of his chin, a casual turn of phrase. She’ll hold it quietly in her mind like a fire. A fire that will consume everything.

“If she’s lucky, she’ll walk away haunted. But if she’s unlucky, she’ll believe it. She won’t write him; she’ll spend her whole life looking for him.” Claire’s knuckles were white on her lap. “If she’s smart, she’ll try to forget. But that brand of memory is always going to be there, seared into a tender curve of her heart, a breath caught in her chest. It kills you eventually.”

Cars rattled past. Brevity’s expression was startlingly serious, wide-eyed, and silent. Leto stammered for a response, but the librarian cut him off with a harsh laugh.

“You surely didn’t think I got duty in the Unwritten Wing by random chance?” Claire’s voice was hollow. She glanced at Leto with a paper-thin smile. “You know how they say ‘Never meet your heroes’? For authors most of all, never meet your heroes. Ruins everything.” She shook her head as she continued to watch the coffee shop.

They fell quiet. Brevity scuffed her toes on the sidewalk, while Leto squinted up at the rooftops, trying not to think about what he didn’t understand.

The sun was setting fast, and the brick face of the buildings began to bleed shadows, clay turning the color of dried blood. The seagulls echoed from the ferry port down the street, and Leto knew the tour boats would be evicting the last of their passengers, while the ferries took on commuters headed home. He did not stop to wonder how he knew this.

“Please stop looking at me like that, Brev,” Claire finally said.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a soap bubble about to pop. I am perfectly capable. It’s just been a long . . . There he is. About time.” The librarian shook off the look her assistant gave her and stood quickly as the hero crossed the street.

They intercepted him at the corner, and the unwritten man held his hands up with a taunting smile. “Easy, warden. I surrender to your tender mercies.” The hero’s tan seemed a bit paler to Leto, and his eyes darker in the fading light.

“Your book, hero.” Claire had shed all sense of wistfulness on the short stride from the bench.

The hero reached into a jean pocket and pulled out what looked at first like a small tourist guide. As his hand withdrew, however, the book expanded and shimmered until he was holding a weathered leather tome of the same style that filled the Unwritten Wing. Claire snatched the book out of his hands and ran a finger over the spine carefully before handing it to Brevity to stow away. “You hid it in the coffee shop.”

“I did.”

“And you made your good-byes to the author?”

“Yes. It was . . . hard. She was upset. Crying.” The hero’s eyes strayed across the street, searching the windowed front with a shadow of pain. “She thinks I broke up with her.”

Claire was unmoved. She pointed down the street as they began walking. Leto and Brevity fell in line behind them. “I hope you were not foolish enough to try to reveal yourself to her.”

“No, of course not. Something more subtle had the same effect.”

Claire stopped so abruptly that Leto nearly ran into her.