Witching Hour in the Citadel

The creaking library doors were the only thing to wake her. Drea had sunk deep into the worn armchair in the stacks. Della had already shook her awake once already and she promised she was making her way to the entrance. Drea stood, and slung her worn messenger bag over her shoulder. She remembered sitting back down to pick up a dropped pen when her favorite Mozart concerto 21 started. She leaned back, got lost in the melody and awoke to the doors closing.

Drea’s feet skidded over steps as she raced down the central staircase and across the marble atrium. Too late! She watched the head librarian carefully maneuver her car into the powder soft snow that was falling from the sky. 

It was a holiday weekend and there were no security guards tonight. They had cut most of the power to the newer part of the building, opting to route power to the older parts to protect the books. She pulled out her phone, 12%. “Shit! I was only suppose to wait out traffic. Look what time it is,” she growled under her breath. She looked around the barren marble atrium and then back up the stairs. “Conservator Della, probably has a charger in her office. I’ve been there once, it couldn’t be that hard to find,” Drea assured herself.

She trudged back up the stairs and headed deeper into the library. Drea knew that if that door was locked, she was screwed. The phones on the first floors were in the locked offices. Her best chance was the Conservator’s office. It was located on the 7th floor, in the restricted section deep within the stacks.

Drea cursed to herself. She never wanted to move halfway across the world, but what choice did she have. Her close knit family, stuck together, no matter what. In a year or so when the world went back to normal and they could be around people without masks on, she could finish her graduate degree and finally move away. For now, she travelled with the family. When her father was transferred to the dry dusty country with an ancient history, she took solace in her favorite haven. Libraries. 

This particular library was housed in an ancient Citadel. She had become familiar with all the staff and almost all the nooks and crannies. The head librarian, the Conservator her official title, had finally started to trust her and was weeks away from letting her have free rein in the restricted section. She could only pray that the Conservator had a reason to come back this weekend.

Shadows followed her as she hurried passed rows of wooden tables topped with green glass lamps. Stacks of books sat at the ends, waiting for librarians to re-shelf. This floor was a study hall of sorts. She looked down at her phone it was going to die before she got to the office. She glanced at the vintage gas lamps on every surface, and thanked the Conservator for her “traditional” tastes.

She stopped short as she felt a deep vibration travel through the Citadel. “Oo gurl! Imagining things tonight,” she said aloud but kept going. She cleared the landing and blew past the middle floors, and raced up the last flight. Her sneakers squeaking as her feet flew up the stairs. They screeched as she skidded to a halt in the middle of the last marble atrium. 

Before her a pillared wall with a closed double doorway. Drea’s shoulders dropped, the doors appeared to be closed and locked. She hung her head and turned to go back down. 

The building shuddered again with another vibration, coming from the room behind her. It almost brought her to her knees, she stumbled and turned back to the doors. The doors were now cracked and a faint humming was coming from the opened doorway. 

A magnetic tug pulled at her, and she drifted towards them. The hum didn’t sound human or mechanical but there was something about it. She squared her shoulders and rounded the desk. She didn’t think twice as she headed into the restricted floor.

On the other side, she raised her phone high, the circle of light only extending a few feet. In the oldest part of the Citadel, the lighting was still gas, and always on. The stacks here staggered and gradually got taller in the center. Drea stayed on the main walkway, winding through the room, following the deep green carpet. The humming growing louder the deeper she got. 

She shook her head and slowed, looking to her right and left, she found the source of the sound. The books where humming. “Wait, what?!” Drea stopped and reached out to the nearest shelf, touching one of the books.

She nearly jumped out of her skin, the world shifted and her body reverberated as though it was a gong. Dragging in several deep breaths, she shook her head and stuck her hand out again but stopped just short of pulling a book off the shelf. 

“No, I need to find a charger, and call Troy, so he can come and get me. If I ever find a way to call out. Why would these librarians keep all the tech in the offices! So picky when it comes to their precious building and books! Well, I get the books part at least. Humph, ok keep going,…no no no dammit don’t go out,” Drea stuttered as her phone died and the flashlight dimmed. “Shit,” she muttered. 

She edged her way to the end of a stack and felt along the top, her fingers brushing the bottom of a brass lamp. “Thank you Della for being so old fashion,” she said and turned back. Any moment she would come upon the doors.

Rounding another corner, a wave of vibration hit her square in the chest hard enough to make her stumble. She dropped the lamp and fell to her knees. The lamp went out, plunging her into darkness. She knew up ahead were the doors but the vibrations were coming from the Conservator’s office. She got to her feet to edge to the door.

Then the books answered.

All around her the books sounded like gongs.

The sounds clanged through her head, again bringing her to her knees. The world around her shifted again but she stumbled towards the doors blindly, hands outreached. The books sounded again, calling to whatever was in the office. Drea stumbled and fell right in front of the doors. 

The world was reduced to darkness and vibrations. Gongs ringing through her head. She raised her hand to the doors but before she touched it, a wave of vibration rumbled out of the office again, strong enough to knock her flat. Everything went black, vibrations pulling her apart and putting her back together in the span of milliseconds. 

Then she was falling.

Drea managed to flip herself over and watched as lights raced up to meet her. Her momentum slowed, and then she crashed landed and blacked out.

Voices around her cursed and groaned as well. “Ladies falling from the sky? What is going on T.S.? You had better explain yourself and get to getting real quick.” She heard somewhere above her right knee. 

Drea cracked her eyes and looked up into a group of men and women, all wearing dark clothing. Not one of them looked alike, nor were the same race, or species. ‘Shit are those pointed ears,’ she thought. Her eyes widened and she glanced around. Only one of them had noticed she had opened her eyes and he watched her from beneath the brim of his hat. His dark clothing gave nothing away, but she marked his details before trying to move. 

That’s when she realized she was laying on top of someone. The group around her discussed moving both of them, until she squeaked at the sight of the crumpled man beneath her. 

“Aye! Now, just who are you and what’s your business here in Imaginary?” Drea looked up sharply and stared for a heartbeat. “What did you say? Where am I?”

“I’ll say it again chit, who are ya? Do you know who you are laying atop? Get your arse up! Ham wake up,” A skinny man to her left chirped. Drea jumped to her feet and backed up into yet another large, very hairy man. The skinny one stooped and leaned close to the prone form.

Drea tried to inch away but the burly hand clamping her shoulder wouldn’t budge. The man with the wide brimmed hat came closer but said nothing. “Uh, T.S. he’s not coming to. I think he might be fading,” the skinny one said. The crumpled body darkened and then winked out. The group gasped, as it was over in seconds. 

The skinny one turned to the hat, “She killed him. You know what this means T.S. you have to answer the code. She takes what’s his and you serve her.” The man they kept calling T.S. turned to her and tipped back his hat. He surveyed her from head to toe and Drea took her first good look at him.

He was tall, over six foot, swarthy olive skin, black hair, and his eyes were pools of darkness, with only the whites to mark them. Familiar, but how? He continued to frown at her and then turned to the others. “I don’t know what or who she is but she doesn’t belong here. Take her to the witch and get some answers. Send her back to wherever she comes from and tell no one. NO ONE, do you understand me?” The hat snarled and glanced around.

The people around her jumped and looked down or away. Drea continued to search his face but he wouldn’t look at her. “Wait! Do I not get a say here? You can’t just man handle me like this! Who are you, and where am I? At least answer my questions,” Drea demanded.

They turned towards her but barely spared her a glance. Another giant men came from behind and they picked her up between them. The hat looked her square in the eye and said, “Do not say a word girl. You are in over your head and a stranger here. You’ve killed a King and ruined any chance we have of restoring Imaginary to its former glory. You are going to Hecate and going back to wherever you came from. Take her, I will catch up,” T.S. growled and turned from her and the men that held her. “But wait! I don’t understand!” Drea struggled to break their hold but couldn’t pull away. 

The giant men turned and started to run. They were fast, inhumanly fast, and the world blurred past her. They made several turns before stopping in front of a tall brownstone looking building. The stoop and the stones of the building appeared black with an oily sheen. 

They hurried her up the stairs and into a dark hallway. Down the length was an open doorway, glowing brightly with shifting light. The giant men, picked her up and stalked down the hallway to the glowing room. 

Inside sat a round covered table and a beautiful young woman, with the eyes of a crone, but the face of a maiden. She was dressed in more scarves than Drea had ever seen, the only visible part of her body, her brown hands and head. Her uncovered hair hung in fat heavy curls down her back, and her violet eyes snapped from face to face before coming to rest on Drea.

All around her sat mirrors and bowls of water on every surface. Brackets hung from every available space on the walls and held torches. Keys hung from the ceiling clinking together on the wind of the newcomers. The giants stepped forward but said nothing. 

They pushed her forward and she stumbled and caught herself on the table. The young old woman stared at her as she rose and straightened. They surveyed each other and Drea started to open her mouth, when alarms clanged through the buildings around them, bouncing off the walls. 

The room went silent and then the young old woman rose and crossed to a window and cracked the shutter. “Hamlet is dead! Our King is no more. His light has been extinguished! Take heed, we could be under attack!”

Hecate turned back and raised as delicate black brow and came to stand in front of Drea. The young woman recoiled as the witched reached out and touched her forehead. “GODSDAMN! She’s HUMAN! John! Charming! Out now, go find T.S. and bring him here. Ok girl, just how did you get here and what do you want?” 

The witch moved around the small table and started to pull bottles off the wall. Not waiting to uncork them, she threw everything into a shallow bowl and kept moving around the room. Drea watched the items in the bowl crumble and the bowl start to smoke. She coughed as the fumes fill the room, she turned back as the witch approached.

“I’m sorry girl, there is no time to explain, but if you have anything to do with the ruckus out there, we have to get you out of here quick like. Ah, T, here you are, close the door,” Hecate glanced at the door as it swung open silently and the man from earlier stepped through. Drea turned and opened her mouth again but he held up his hand.

“You are in danger here. None of this is real and we do not exist. We are characters from literature and you are in the world of imagination. The longer you stay, the more you fade on the other side, so we are sending you back. No argument. I am Tally or T.S., as you may have heard,” the swarthy stranger drawled and smiled tightly at Drea. Her stomach flipped over. She knew that smile, she just wasn’t sure how yet.

“Ok, so send me back. If you won’t tell me exactly what is going on, or hurt me, then get this over with and send me home,” Drea snarled with all the salt she was feeling. Hecate turned back to Tally and shrugged. T.S., blinked at Drea and then nodded at Hecate, “Do it, Tate.”

The witch picked up the bowl and strolled to the nearest full length mirror and threw the bowl at the mirror. Instead of shattering, the bowl went straight through and fell into a void. After a second it lit from the inside and roared with light. Hecate turned to Drea and swept her hand before the mirror.

“Tate, there are folks out front,” a gravely voice rumbled through the door. The witch turned towards the door and looked back. “It will stay open for another ten minutes. I suggest you go through and quickly,” Hecate said, nodded and turned to go. Drea watched her and murmured her thanks. Hecate stopped at the door and turned back, “You are welcome Drea Jackson, it was nice to meet a human like you. I wish we could of talked,” she said and left.

“Now look here girl, forget what you saw here,” T.S. said and turned towards her. Drea started to make her way around the table. Her foot caught and she tripped on a low stool, but he was there before she started to fall. 

Drea gasped as an electrical current passed from him to her. She jerked and fell into T.S. and for a moment they stared. “Hecate said you were human but could it be? I know you, but it isn’t possible,” he whispered and stared down into her eyes. 

Drea, lost in his eyes, couldn’t close her mouth. He smelled like mossy sandalwood and every inch of him was hard. Her nostrils flared again and she leaned closer ever so slightly. “Same, but who are you? Why do you smell so good? Maybe if I just……” Drea leaned in, thinking to just get a little closer and drink him in. 

More shouting outside made them both jump and pull apart. T.S. coughed and turned her towards the mirror. “Just close your eyes and you will be back,” he whispered. Drea tried to turn to look at him one last time but he turned her again. 

He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I do know you, Drea Jackson. You are who gives me life here in Imaginary. You are the reason I don’t fade, and you read my story every year and keep me alive. You also wouldn’t have appeared here to me, if I hadn’t wished for you too.” 

Drea tried to turn again but T.S. pushed her through the mirror and she was falling yet again. 

She jerked awake to a frowning Conservator Della. “Drea! I’ve already woke you up once! Get your things and walk with me. You know we can’t be in the Citadel after a certain time. The witching hour is almost upon us and weird stuff tends to happen. Come come!”

Drea looked from side to side and around the Conservator. She was back. Was that a dream? Where the hell did she go? What in the hell was any of that. Who was T.S., and what did he mean? She was so confused. Della continued to stare at her with her head cocked to the side. 

“Ok, I’m sorry Conservator, I had a really strange dream and I’m not sure I’m actually here,” she murmured. 

“Of course you are here child, this is the land of Imaginary, isn’t it, all libraries are! Now, come on, let’s get our things and head out!” Della chuckled and clapped.

“Wait, what did you just say?”