“I am Qether,” I said with a bow, “And this.” I motioned behind me toward the vast collection of tomes and books.

“This is my library,” I finished adjusting my spectacles on my face. The group gathered kowtowed before me. The leader, a woman in her forties, spoke first, “Great Qether. God of Knowledge and Secrets. Keeper and Warden of the Gods’ Library. I beg an audience.”

I scratched my chin. It has been almost a millennium since mortals not acolytes found their way here. Though I suspect one of my acolytes may have had a hand in it. Not even my own siblings know of my hiding place.

“Very well, mortal. What pray tell has brought you hear?” I said gazing down that them.

“Wise master, please a plague ravages our world. Unleashed by your fellow gods. Long have we journey to find you. Our numbers were twenty once. But seven of us stand before you.”

I looked that them. They were indeed seven of them. They were haggard and filthy. I could tell they were hungry. I turned my back on them. “What happens between the mortals and my siblings is none of my concern. No leave me alone with my books.” I began to walk back into my library.

“Wait!” She called out. I stopped. And glanced at them.

“You say it is none of your concern but you sent your acolytes out to collect information and to inviting scholars of note to you. So you care. But if this plague kills us you will no longer be collect secrets. No new knowledge for you to collect and hoard. Above all you will have no new stories.”

I knew that. And I would love to spit in the face of my siblings. “You presume much, mortal. It is true I would be bored if you all died.”

I continued to walk into the library. But I stopped after I passed the threshold. “I will not bring the knowledge you seek to you. Come inside before your stench alerts my siblings.”

“Thank you, wise master,” their leader replied as the group raced inside. Making sure to keep several steps behind me. They gawked and awed over the rows of cases that seemed to stretched high into the sky.

“Divine one,” one of the younger ones, barely older than fourteen.

“Child?” I said we continued.

“We are inside a building right? But how is this so bright?” He asked. I pondered the questions for a moment. It wasn’t that I didn’t know. I was trying to find a way to explain it to him without too much complications.

“I created a sun. And a moon,” I answered back.

“Wow!” He said sounding awed. One of the adults with them quickly tried to silence him. I stopped and looked at a row of books before me.

“Hmmm,” I said as I pulled a book from shelf and turned to the leader. “This book will give you the knowledge you need. But once the plague has been cured. You will return it immediately. If you don’t. I will unleash a plague so virulent that my siblings will not even survive it.”

The leader adverted her gaze as she took the book from my hands, “I thank you wise master.”

“Enough, your stench is starting make my book rot.” I commanded. Before they left my gaze, I blessed them with a far safer journey home. Unknown to them, the book was a copy of the original works I had higher up. Making a new one wasn’t difficult or boring at all. But like I said. I haven’t had visitors that weren’t my own acolytes in a millennium and I am positive I haven’t had returned visitor even longer.

“Ouch!” A voice yelled, and something crashed within the library. “Who put that there?”

Aurora shot from her chair, the back of her legs smacking her wooden seat. Nobody should be in here; the scholars weren't allowed in after nine pm. “Hello?” She called. Maybe it was a professor? No, it sounded too spritely, too alive, to be one of the university teachers. It had to be a scholar. It had to be.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” Aurora stuttered, hating how her voice cracked. “We’re closed. Doors reopened at seven am tomorrow,” She took a tentative step forward, never before wishing for Warden George—her supervisor—to return early from his break. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Another hollow sound echoed through the Libary, and Aurora winced, picturing precious books tumbling to the floor.
Tugging her own book closer, Aurora, with all the grace and silence of an elephant, made her way to the first lot of shelves.

Someone leaned against the side of one of the wooden ladders. A mound of priceless—now reachable—books lay sprawled at his feet; their spines bent, their crisp, wafer-thin pages sacrilegiously crinkled.

He definitely did not look like a scholar. Where scholars of The University wore silk robes, this young man wore red striped trousers with far too many holes to count, a black T-shirt with what appeared to be a kitten on and a canary yellow blazer. His white whip of quiffed hair a shock against the tawny brown of his skin.

“Finally,” The young man groaned, rubbing his eye, “You’re alone. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting? I thought that old coot would never leave. Ah,” He chirped and gestured with his middle finger, for he had not thumb or forefinger, to the green leather book in Aurora’s hand. “you have your weapon, I see,” Aurora quickly pulled the book behind her, shoving it into the waistband of her navy blue uniform trousers.

As a Junor Warder, to touch a book, let alone read it, was forbidden. Only when a book tumbled from its place on the shelf could Aurora handle it, but only to return it to where it belonged. Such occurrence had happened to the book now strapped to her back, The Encyclopedia of Plants And Their Poisonous Attributes. Not her first choice, but when the chance to read one of the wonderous books of the library came to hand, she took it, even if that reading had to be done in secret. Usually, in the ten minutes of alone time she had when Keeper George took his break.

Within her two years of workinh for the Library, Aurora had managed to read all of three books. Scholars came from all around the world for a chance to read, to study, the books. And only the best, most prestigious got in. Aurora had no money, no title, no family, so her only chance to be around the books—to see them—was to guard them. So that was what she did.

“We’re closed,” Aurora repeated, the tremor in her voice betraying the authority she wanted to show. Her ears warmed. Stupid. Warden George would have had this trespasser gone and out the door seconds ago. His metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.

The intruder grinned, dimples digging deep. “I know. You said.” “You need to leave.” He lifted a golden pocket watch from the pocket of his blazer. Flicked open the lid. Raised a white brow, then snapped it shut. “You’re right; we do,”

A glint of silver flashed from behind his back, and something cold clamped around Aurora’s wrist. She recoiled. “What are you doing?” “Insurance.” “Insurance for what?” Aurora tugged at the chain—it glowed orange, then tightened, burning, digging into her skin. “Take this off! Now!” “Ah, alas, I can not. The chain breaks when the task is done.” He lifted his hands in surrender and shrugged. “I’m afraid you’re stuck for now.” Aurora shoved her bound wrist in his face. “Take. It. Off!”

A knot tightened in her chest. Pulling, tugging, tighter and tighter until she couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She couldn't be trapped! She couldn't be locked up. Not again. Never. Black stops blotted her vision Aurora rested against the bookshelf. She took a deep breath, the scent of century-old books, calming, grounding.

“Please,” Aurora begged, “take it off.” “Are you hard of hearing? I just said I couldn't. Complete the task and—” “What task?” The intruder grinned, a wolfish, mischievous smile, and wiggled his eyebrows, seemingly unaware of Aurora panic. “You, my special librarian buddy, have the honour of killing the Emperor.” Aurora swallowed. “The who?” “The Emperor. She’s— Oh, never mind, I’ll tell you later. Now lets... Um... Um...” He looked around. “Shoot,” he mumbled, stepping over the precious pile of books.“Where'd I put it?

Aurora watched in horror as the intruder began moving the books with his shoe, kicking them aside like a beaten football. Just as she was about to do something, preferably kick him in the shin, a low growl echoed from behind. Aurora spun around, staring into the shadows of the library. “What was that?” she whispered. “Oh, dear. It must have followed me through. Right,” the intruder said and clapped. “I’d take that as our cue to skedaddle. It's a good job I found our way out.” “What—! What followed you through? Wait! Where are you taking me? Let go!” “Such a poor baby. I’m taking you home, Aurora. Obviously. Now, hold tight.”

A blue light spurted from one of the open books, dousing the bookshelves, the library in shadow. Lifting a leg, the intruder stepped inside, pulling Aurora down into the cold with him.

“No, I’m not allowing three children to go running wild in my library,” Adnales said, looking between the children in question as he did so.

“Please, Mr Librarian, it’s important!” the tallest girl begged, looking desperate. “We’re trying to save your world here!”

He didn’t doubt that. He knew exactly who these children were, and that just made everything worse.

“Any friend of Ayla Maren is an enemy of mine,” he snapped, trying not to think about what had happened when she lost control in his library. The books had complained for weeks afterward, those that weren’t too wet to talk.

“Okay, but Oscar doesn’t know the Maren girl,” Eliane, the other girl, said quietly. “And I hardly know her well. Besides, I know what I’m doing.”

Adnales doubted that. This girl’s power was fire, and the only flames Adnales liked were those illustrated in or on books. If she was just as useless at controlling her powers as Ayla had been, then the library would never forgive him.

It wasn’t the fact that the book was lying on the floor that got me first.

It annoyed me more that someone had been so careless as to let it fall. It was a very rare copy of ‘The Epic of Ecliades’, with silky velum pages, a gilt-encrusted cover, and painstakingly hand painted plates, which were a delight.

I tutted as I picked it up, the dust displacing from the pages in a cloud, ‘What on earth are you doing down there…!’ I exclaimed.

A wave of mustiness tickled my nostrils. Camphor, geranium, lavender - like a trio of old ladies had suddenly entered the room.

Odd, I thought.

That’s when I saw the feather on the ground. A delicate quill, vibrant blue, picking it up, it felt as soft as velvet and I couldn’t resist brushing it against my cheek.

“You are wondering how that got here?” squeaked a little voice.

The feather dropped to the ground as I turned to see where the voice had come from. The room was empty. I felt a shiver down my spine and a bead of sweat was appearing on my forehead.

I’d heard tales that this library was haunted, but being a firm believer in science, I’d dismissed it as utter poppycock.

Now however, I was starting to have my doubts…

Larry glanced around the room. The library was small—one room—but it was filled with rare and valuable books. The assignment of being warden of the books for the weekend had not been a popular one. Larry had been the only Chronicle employee to put in for it.

There was a certain charm to the old books and perhaps even a slightly musty smell, but Larry didn’t care. As a matter of fact, he sort of liked the smell.

The only problem he’d had was making Balki agree to stay home. They had known each other for more than fifteen years now, but Balki was still as boisterous and curious as ever. Larry knew Balki would want to look through the books, but most of the books couldn’t be touched by hand. Anyone wanting to see a book had to put gloves on.

Larry had brought some of his own books plus a few other things in his briefcase to keep himself occupied, but for now he simply sat at the desk and, for once, relaxed. Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he really had this kind of opportunity. With Balki around first, then getting married, having both sets of couples together, and the kids… never mind the fact that he was terrible at relaxing anyway, he’d never really been able to just sit and reflect.

———

Unfortunately, Larry had dozed off. The room was only lit by two small table lamps. A door opened and a dark figure made its way in. The figure paused briefly, surprised to find Larry there asleep.

The dark figure pulled out a pen flashlight and started looking over the shelves.

A few minutes had passed, when Larry woke up. He wasn’t sure what woke him as he lifted his head, but stopped cold when he saw the dark figure perusing the shelves. His eyes widened and he almost gasped, but managed to catch himself.

Larry needed a plan. He glanced around and his gaze landed on his briefcase. He hoped that would work. He slowly and quietly picked ip the briefcase, then stood and moved up behind the shadowy figure. Larry raised the briefcase and was about to bring it down on the person’s head when they turned to him. Larry froze. His eyes widened like saucers.

The dark figure reached out and pushed Larry back, then chuckled seeing how easy that had been. “Why don’t you just sit back down and let me go about my business and maybe I won’t hurt you.” The voice was deep and gravely.

Larry frowned. He couldn’t let this jerk steal from the library, but he backed off.

“Good decision.” The figure went back to searching the shelves.

Larry needed to do something. The briefcase was still the best idea he had, but he’d been caught once already. He pressed his lips together, upper lip disappearing as usual. He made his decision.

Several minutes passed before the shadowy figure removed a book from a shelf. He tucked it in his black jacket and turned. He saw Larry sitting at the desk and the briefcase on the desk. He smirked at Larry. “Smart guy.” He started for the door.

As soon as the dark figure passed Larry, he was on his feet, briefcase in his hands. He moved behind the figure and swung the briefcase at the same time as the figure turned. The briefcase hit the robber in the face, which unfortunately caused a reflex on the gun he was suddenly holding. Larry had no time to move or even know there was a gun.

The gun went off a split second after the briefcase struck and there were two thumps. Both the robber and Larry were on the floor.

———

The 9-1-1 call had not been easy. His shoulder hurt like hell and he felt dazed. It felt like an eternity before he heard the sirens. He sighed, willing himself to stay conscious just a little while longer.

Two police officers came in and one turned on the overhead lights, causing him to wince. One officer went to him while the other went to the still prone figure.

“Hey, buddy, you okay? Are you the one that called?”

He nodded. It was all he could manage before he passed out.

———

He hated hospitals. More than that, he hated emergency rooms. However, he was dazed and in quite a bit of pain that he didn’t even say a word as the cree worked on him. Heck, he didn’t even know what was wrong.

A nurse gave him an injection and he went out again.

———

“Cousin! Cousin, I know you hear me!”

“Balki, he’s still out.”

“I’ve heard that they can still hear us.”

“Cousin, open up those hazel eyes. We got news you want to hear!”

He couldn’t stand the voices anymore and opened his eyes. He felt a bit lightheaded and sore, but generally okay.

“Larry, are you okay?” Jennifer asked, taking his hand.

“Yeah, I think so. What happened?” Larry said, frowning. He remembered the struggle with the thief, but then nothing.

“You kept that bad man from stealing the most worthless book in the library!” Balki exclaimed.

Larry frowned. That didn’t sound right, but his brain refused to work out what he really meant.

“Priceless, Balki. The most priceless book,” Jennifer explained.

“I said that,” Balki said, confused.

“No, she means priceless as in it’s so value there’s no price tag,” Mary Anne said. She shrugged. “I like watching the antiques show on PBS.”

Larry’s eyes widened. “I saved the book!?”

“Of course you did, do’n be ridiculous! Although you did get your shoulder hurt in the process,” Balki said.

Larry’s eyes widened more, if that was possible. “He shot me!”

“Larry, calm down! Yes, he did, but you’re okay now,” Jennifer said and squeezed his hand.

Larry sighed. “Wow…” He suddenly smiled. “What a great story this will make!”

The others exchanged looks and shrugged. He was right and, in the end, Larry was okay. That was all that mattered.

-End-

The old man wakes at one a.m. His ritual has begone. Leave the bed, brush his teeth, get dressed, and pour a cup of black coffee. He shuffled down the spiral stair case into his library. The young man at the information station was trying to keep his eye open, staring down at the pages of a book. “My is that one that boring?” “Oh, sorry sir. I was just trying to pass the time, as we are open at truly strange times.” “You say strange, I say that my best readers come now. That being said your shift is over, see you later tonight.” The young man gathered his belongings and sleepily walked to the front door, “Sir, by the way, that book isn’t finished is it?” “Is not.” The old man winked, the young man shook his head and left. The old man only had a couple of hours to pull books for his “best readers”. Below the library was an old wet basement. Vines and tree roots exposed for walls. The air was clean and alive. The old man made sure to thank the plants that keep his most prized books in excellent condition. These books were calling to their reader as the time grew closer to three. The old man picked up seven books he had not seen the night before. The binding of these books were different. The wrinkles showed more that age, and the pages had stains of unknown origin. But these books were like nothing the old man had come across in all his years of caring for written works. But he knew his readers would want these. Back up stairs, the first customer of the night had arrived, alerting the old man with the door chime. A beautiful woman dressed in all black. “How are you? Do you need help?” She called to the old man. “Is it that time already? You are always so punctual!” The old man was standing behind the information station with all seven books laid out in front of him. “So many guesses tonight, for your reading club? Many different widths tonight.” “Many new members, also old man… do not let the young man read that book. It has not been finished and I would hate to ruin it for him.” “He always seems to find it, or should I say it finds him?” They both smiled to each other, in an ominous way. Member one had entered the door, the chime causing the woman to turn around and greet them. “Your book is on the end. Do not skip around, read it from cover to cover.” She smiled sweetly. The old man watched as the book at the end floated away to a cozy corner of the library. He always wonder what they looked like to the woman, but he was just the librarian of life and death.

Monogamy is cool, it’s manotany that sucks. So every night I take home the same woman, but some nights we switch it up. Some nights she is my good girl, other nights she’s my slut. Some nights we make love, other nights we straight f**k. Some nights she likes it smooth, other nights she likes it rough. & who better to lick her clit like licorice, bend her over the dresser & bless her bang her back out, until she taps out. Hand full of hair in one hand, hip in the other. Now I got her right where I want her. There is no place for her to run to. She just has to accept the gift that I’m giving her. I’m giving her the ultimate…. Til her vibrator is inadequate. Then I will throw her ass on the mattress. Make her scream, make her cream, I can go for hours, I’m a machine. & I will make you a believer. You about to break the Guinness Book of World Records for the most orgasms ever had in one second. She likes it rough, she wants to know it I can keep up. I tell her it is not in your best interest to talk shit. Because I’m so thick, I hit all four sides like wall to wall carpet. So be careful what you wish for.

I breathed deeply. The evening sun painted the cobblestone sidewalk in gold as I walked towards the old library. It was day one on the job, guarding the books within. I’d never been inside before, but my uncle was apparently certain that I was best suited for the job.

 I pushed the old door open and stepped inside for the first time. The smell of old books and dusty shelves reached my nose, and I squinted at the dim interior as my eyes adjusted.

 The first thing I saw was a sheet of yellowed paper taped to one of the shelves.

 “Dearest Jane,” it read in my uncle’s handwriting, “Please take especially good care of these books, as they are quite rare, and worth a great deal of money. I have to ask you not to open them, for reasons I cannot relay in a note. Just watch the store for tonight, and new instructions will reach you by morning.
                                               Uncle Henry”

   Don’t open the books? Why ever not? I walked to the side of the shelf, tilting my head curiously as I studied the bindings. None of them had titles, only shapes. The first had a dragon on it, while the second had a large oak tree imbedded in gold. I shrugged and went to the bookkeeper’s desk, pulling out a ledger. There was an account of every customer who had come in, with a full description of each.

 There was one about a suspicious-looking man in a black fedora, who Uncle Henry said had a long scar on his face and high cheekbones. His name was recorded as Glitch. I raised my eyebrow at the strange name, but kept reading. The instructions were to look out for him, and though it was highly doubtful that I would see him, I was not to let him look at any of the books if he did happen to come in.

    It was after closing when the bell at the door jangled and I heard a step approaching the counter. I looked up to see a tall man in a black fedora.

 “Hello my dear,” he said pleasantly, tipping his hat to me, “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

  “Certainly,” I replied slowly, aware that this must be the man Uncle Henry warned me about in his ledger.

 “I am looking for a particular book…” he said hesitantly, watching me closely, “one with this symbol on its binding?”

 He showed me a pendant around his neck with a foreign symbol etched into its surface.

 “I’m afraid not,” I said quickly. 

  Too quickly. The stranger raised an eyebrow at me suspiciously.

  “Is that so?” he answered, tilting his head slightly, “I think I’ll just take a look on your shelves here and-”

  “Just a moment,” I interrupted quickly, stepping out from behind the counter, “I just checked all of the books before you came in and I’m positive that we don’t have one with that symbol on it.”

  I looked him squarely in the eye, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell that I hadn’t told him the whole truth. I HAD checked the books before he came in, but there WAS a book with that symbol on it. I remembered it clearly. 

 “Very well,” the man replied with a shrug, though he eyed me critically for a minute or two, “I shall return.”

 With these words he turned on his heel and exited the library as I sighed with relief. I couldn’t control my curiosity, and I hurried over to the bookshelf, searching for the book. There it was, nestled among the others. It was a small book, with a black cover and a red symbol engraved into the binding. The same symbol on the stranger’s pendant. 

 I picked it up slowly, remembering Uncle Henry’s warning. Surely a little peek wouldn’t hurt….. what could happen?

 I slowly opened the cover, and was greeted with a rush of air and the smell of rain. I touched my cheek and felt raindrops hitting it. My eyes widened as I realized that the water was coming from the book in my hands. I flipped to the first page, and saw a blank sheet. In fact, the entire book was blank. Suddenly the lights flickered in the library and the book practically pulled itself from my hands. It clattered to the floor as a gust of wind swirled around me and the familiar building faded from view.

Evelyn,worked for the local library of Silverton Oregon.the library could be described in one word,boring.however Evelyn liked boring she liked simple,because she had the eyes of an artist.to her everything in the library contained hidden beauty,the notches of gothic inspiration in the stair railing to the lampposts scattered around each room like fireflies on a summer evening,to the bookshelves of cherry wood that scent of inspiration leaking from the books,she loved it.sorrowingly this love could never compare to the love of her fantasy based off her many years of reading.As she went about her day assisting visitors,refilling shelfs with books,and stopping every so often to dive her nose into dozens of Jane Austin books.she pondered the thought will I ever find love,perhaps someday,someday,one day however it found her.As she stood at the center desk pondering this thought,a tall blonde man,wearing rounded glasses,a green turtleneck and corduroy pants he made his way to the center desk.her eyes light up brighter then stars.he walked closer.her body felt like she touched a 20 volt battery.he rang the service bell.she tried to say how can I help you but the only word that left her lips was a croak akin to a frogs.he jeered at this.her face immediately turned so bright red,you’d think she was allergic to laughter.she turned away from him and with her back turned asked"how can I help you".he responded with"I’m sorry,I didn’t mean to laugh I just I was nervous talking to you.I was going to ask,Um,where,how do I,where do I put this book back,"she turned around and answered "what book is it" he answered"it’s "Emma" by Jane Austin"she gasped"I love that book,wait you didn’t happen to read pride and prejudice,he responded with only 15 times,she bragged"I personally read it 21 times,"is that true,bet you haven’t read the princess bride 34 times"she responded with "how old are you 17" he coyly answered old enough".he then jots his phone number on a bookmarker and hands it to her,she grabs the phone number with composure,and says “Jane Austin you said should be right this way".she leads him to the proper bookshelf and he returns the book his voice shakily asks"so doing anything this weekend".she responds with "I don’t know depends,you doing anything this weekend".she says flirtatiously.he responds with "i mean I was just gonna finish up a book I was writing" her curiosity is peaked"you write? He responds confidently "yeah my newest book is about this guy that meets this beautiful librarian only I don’t know how the next chapter goes is it a tragedy and she never sees him again,or do they go out to dancing,eat Italian food,and finish the night with reading the talented Mr Ripley only to fall asleep by the fire place" she responds with a bright wide smile that could put the moon to shame"I like the second ending more"."and what’s the name of the wonderful librarian.she responds with "Evelyn". They then part ways as he walks away he looks back at her one more time and her at him,she asks "what’s your name" he yells"nick"! She shushes him and mouths"nice to meet you nick" they turn back to each their separate ways as he exits the library he looks up at the sky and yells "Evelyn what a name"! She sees him from inside shakes her head and looks down at his number on the bookmarker and smiles with a dimple in her cheek"nick".

I am the warden of the Floating Library. An intergalactic archive of encyclopaedia and books donated to the Floating Library so that they can be kept safe from invasion, occupation and general disasters.

Today, is the archival reshuffle. This happens when donated books have become large enough to become a hindrance for visitors to navigate the corridors. So rather have them wander and get lost and disoriented. I send them home regardless of how many light years they have travelled and the library is closed while this reshuffle takes place.

A common occurrence of an archival reshuffle is that the forces, let’s say magnetic forces so that you can understand, are reduced so that the books can swap indexes more easily. This simple decision can make the difference of several days when we use Intelligent Navigational Directory Equilibrium X system (INDEX system for short). The X represents that tenth iteration of the system after many debates and discussion on intergalactic policies for sorting.

And now the books are starting to detach from the shelves and float to their new index positions. Thousands of books of all colours and sizes doing the equivalent of a mass musical chairs. I’ve put on classical music on the speakers as I like to think it makes them feel happy. Happy books means happy visitors and happy visitors means happy stakeholders and happy stakeholders mean happy me.

Suddenly, something quite unexpected happened. The floating library was moving. This is unusual because when the library is the archival reshuffle status, it mustn’t be moved. For this exact reason, that was happening right now. The floating books become disarrayed and the pages begin flicking and books start flying all over the place, hitting walls, hitting me. It’s quite mad really. I struggle to regain balance and make my way to the control reception.

After several failed attempts of entering my very long and secure password and being whacked several times by volumes of the human race. I log in. I check my notifications under travel destinations for the Floating Library and it turns out there was an emergency recall of the library to Sector ICU2. This policy grants any planet to call for the Floating Library to instantly make its way to the planet. And so it seems that this emergency call has really messed things up for me.

I look at the ‘Reason of Emergency’ and the requester had put “Birthday”. I make my way to the toilets and curl up into a ball as I await the nightmare to be over. The flapping and thudding of books continue like a sad and relentless storm.