Standing in front of the librarian with empty hands, looking like a big fat idiot, Rhys stared at her as he pushed his brain to its absolute limits. What should I do? What’s my move, here? Bringing her lots of books didn’t work. I don’t think she’s a chatter. What else? What else do I do with librarians?
As much as he loved libraries, he’d always been intimidated by their guardians, the librarians. First off, they were people, not books. Second off, they always had that chilly do not talk to me, I’m important and busy air around them. And third off, the disappointment they’d shot his way when he returned a book late or folded a corner over to mark his spot made his youthful soul shiver. Librarians were scary. The library was a wonderland but the librarians were the demons who stalked its expanses: intimidating, impressive, and absolutely terrifying to a future basement dweller like young Rhys. They had important things to do, and he was not those important things. Daring to ask for their assistance was akin to requesting the President’s attention on his homework—impossible, laughable, and far below their interest.
But I’m not that kid anymore. I’m an adult. And adults have the right to demand the interest of all kinds of people whose interest they don’t deserve! Forget your social anxiety, Rhys, and channel your inner Karen!
He strode forward and crossed his arms, looking down at her. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I’ve been looking for a particular title on flying artifacts. Can you help me?”
“Certainly. What is its name?” she said, neatly and efficiently turning to her flip cards.
“That is… I don’t remember.”
The icy stare returned. “You don’t remember?”
“No. I don’t recall much about it, but I really need this one particular volume. Er… if it would help, I can show you where in the library I remember seeing it?”
“Was it in the flying artifacts manual section?” she deadpanned.
“You know, believe it or not, I don’t think it was. It, uh, might’ve been about someone’s experiences on a flying artifact? I can only remember where I saw it, but anything else is kind of…” Rhys grimaced.
She gave him a dead stare.
“I’m so sorry. But… please? I’m sure you could help me. You know the whole library, right?” Rhys gave her his best innocent smile, fluttering his eyelashes a little for effect.
The librarian clicked her tongue in annoyance, but nonetheless rose from her desk. She pushed up her glasses and gazed at him with that same old terrifying death glare he recalled all librarians possessing. “So? Where was it?”
“Right over here…” Rhys gestured her into the stacks. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a lithe, furry body slipping toward the vault behind them. Rhys smiled. The heist was a go. Az could chide him for calling it a heist all he wanted, but this was definitely a heist, and he was definitely a vital part of the heisting. For sure.
The librarian followed after him, not noticing the cat slipping toward the vault behind her. Rhys could almost feel the icy aura exuding from her freezing him from behind as he dawdled toward the shelves, moving slower than he had in years as he pinched his chin and squinted, pretending to try to remember where he’d last seen his fictional book. “Was it here…? No, no, I think it was… hmm, that’s not right…”
“You don’t know where this title was? I thought that was all you knew,” she said, with the frustrated air of a hard worker held up by an idiot customer.
Rhys shivered. Ah, I feel so bad! I should stop wasting her time. She’s got important work to do! I need to finish this farce and let her get back to her desk.
Right, yeah! I need to…
Wait, hold on. The heist! I can’t give up so easily. I’m in the middle of an all important heist!
No, she’s busy! I’m being so rude right now. In fact, I can’t believe how rude I’m being by interrupting her important work for something as pathetic as a cat’s small-time burglary! I should tell her what’s happening and let her get back to work. Rhys paused and began to turn, his mouth opening.
Hold on right there! Lifting his hand, Rhys forcibly closed his own traitor mouth. These weren’t his thoughts. These weren’t his desires. Something was influencing him, and he had a feeling that he knew what it was: namely, that icy-cold aura permeating through his body even now. He narrowed his eyes, risking a glance at the librarian. She was so efficient that she had an anti-time-wasting aura? Impressive! Truly impressive! But unfortunately, he was on the side of time wasting today. He couldn’t let her efficiency infect him. Instead, he had to ensure his time-wasting-ness overtook her.
Rhys thought as fast as he could, struggling against his own natural and unnatural desires to get out of this lady’s hair. His own mouth refused to say anything to prolong this situation further, even though he didn’t want to let the woman get back to her desk, where she’d once more guard the vault. If he couldn’t continue lying to her to get her to waste time, what could he do?
Can’t lie… can’t waste time… come on, Rhys! There’s gotta be a way out of this!
Wait, hold on! I can’t lie… but can I speak my truth? He lowered his hand from his mouth, prepared to slam it shut again if he had to.
“Ma’am, what do you think of this library?” he asked successfully. His eyes widened. Yes! I can do this!
“I think quite highly of it. I chose to work here, after all.” She paused, and a second later, she added: “It could be quieter, though.”
“Really? Because in my eyes, it’s perfect.”
“Perfect?” the librarian scoffed.
Rhys turned around. Still walking slowly forward, he nodded. “Indeed. Where I come from, libraries are silent. There’s not a sound to be heard within their vaunted halls. And I couldn’t think of anything sadder.”
“A silent library is sad?”
“Yes. Because a silent library is an unused library. No one enters the halls. No one reads the books within it. All the knowledge accumulated there goes unused. Can you think of a greater tragedy?”
The woman thought for a few seconds. Rhys felt a great sense of accomplishment at making her waste those seconds, and also a great sense of discomfort for the same exact reason.
At last, she scoffed. “Of course I can. There are many great tragedies in this world. However, I concede your point. A library should be quiet, not silent.”
“Precisely! I agree. And I also want to confess—” Rhys pushed his mouth shut again. No I don’t! I don’t want to confess anything, dammit!
“Confess?”
“Confess…” Rhys wracked his brain. He couldn’t lie. What could he confess? All that came to mind was the fake book, and the fact that it didn’t exist, the fact that he was wasting this woman’s all-important, precious time with his fictitious book all for the purpose of helping some cat’s pointless efforts. Argh, dammit! Her aura’s too strong. I can’t think straight!
If he couldn’t think about anything but his fake book… maybe he could use that? Rhys pondered for another moment, then smacked his fist into his open palm. Right! If I phrase it like that, then it’s not a lie! “Confess… that I don’t recall where this volume is.”
He couldn’t recall where it was because it didn’t exist. It was a completely true statement, and it helped her accomplish her goal of getting back to her work at the same time, because it moved the situation forward and helped explain a real, true issue with him finding this books that didn’t exist.
Her eyes narrowed further. Her icy aura spiked from winter to arctic. “You don’t.”
“No.”
“You don’t remember anything about it, nor do you recall where it is, in fact. So this entire exercise is a waste of my time?”
“Er… you could say that,” Rhys admitted honestly. “I’d rather you didn’t, but you could.”
She stared at him for one more moment just to ensure he felt the full weight of her disapproval and disappointment, then turned on her heel and clacked her way back to her desk.
Rhys licked his lips. Hope that was long enough, Az. I couldn’t do any better! She’s simply too powerful!
“Rhys.”
“Yes?” Still a little shaken from his encounter with the librarian, Rhys replied without thinking, turning to face the newcomer. Rather than someone new, however, he found himself face to face with a familiar man who wore the same black-and-white robes he had back when he was the librarian at Rhys’s first sect.
Az lowered his head, nodding just a hair. “An adequate job.”
“Phew. I almost lost it at the end there. You didn’t mention anything about that aura of hers, and I was not prepared.”
Az blinked. “Why not? Someone as efficient as her surely wouldn’t allow inefficiency in those around her, no?”
“That’s…” It was a reasonable argument, yet simultaneously entirely unreasonable, leaving Rhys full of retorts and yet with nothing to say. He pressed his lips together and said nothing.
“Well, I’ve accomplished my goal, so I should help you with yours.” Az lifted his nose and sniffed the air, then pointed straight through the stacks next to him. “Horticulture.”
“Ah…huh? Oh—a prince? Is he trash?”
Az blinked again, slowly this time, and Rhys felt himself condemned as an idiot with every millimeter of the slow motion. “That is your expertise, not mine.”
“Right… yeah. Hey, congrats on the get, Az. And thanks.” With a quick salute, Rhys hurried off in the direction the cat had pointed him. It was time to go meet his (trash) prince. Maybe. Unless he wasn’t trash, and then he’d just keep moving on.
--
Az blinked, watching Rhys’s back recede. He stood there, frozen, watching until Rhys vanished like a cat with its eye on a mouse. Only when Rhys vanished around the corner of the shelves did he move, lowering his head slightly to smile to himself. “You never fail to amuse. I wonder what’s going to unfold next?”
Behind him, the librarian shrieked in horror and dismay. Az glanced over his shoulder, then moved, fluidly vanishing underfoot as he retook his quadrupedal form.