“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.