“I am starting to understand why Noli dislikes translators,” I say. It’s still so strange. So alien. They’re my words, but it’s not my voice.

“Somehow, I don’t think it’s the lack of swearing she objects to,” Zyneth says with a chuckle.

“That is part of it,” I grumble. I vaguely recall something she’d said about the translators before: how they don’t capture the nuance of her words. “I hate being censored.”

Zyneth gives my shoulder a reassuring pat as we weave through the streets. “You heard what Red said. This is only temporary. He should be able to create a more complex charm for you by the end of the week.”

There’s that, at least. And I know I shouldn’t be complaining when Zyneth footed the bill—again. I’m going to owe him a small fortune by the end of this.

After Red’s place, Zyneth grabs a pair of boots for me next. They’re floppy old things, but I need the give in the leather to keep it from inhibiting motion in my ankles and tripping me up. Look at me: Slowly but surely putting on clothes like a real person.

By the time we’re done with the translator, boots, and gathering various food and supplies Zyneth deems necessary, it’s late afternoon. Zyneth finds us an inn and secures a room so he can drop off all his newly purchased items. I’m practically vibrating with impatience when we return to the streets.

“Where is the library?” I ask. It’s about time I got some answers. “How much longer until we can go?”

“Actually,” Zyneth says, gesturing ahead of us as we walk, “that’s why I picked the inn I did. It’s right up ahead.”

“Where?” I ask. “Is it around that building?” The street disappears behind the curve of an enormous domed structure which I pegged to be some sort of religious temple. The white marbled surface is carved with figures and murals that are several stories high, and even as I watch, I swear the stone creatures are slowly moving across the surface. It gives me a sort of Taj Mahal vibe—if the Taj Mahal was as big as the Colosseum and covered in statues of fantasy creatures.

“No.” Zyneth smiles. “It is that building. Welcome to the Athenaeum of Miasmere.”

I gawk as we pass into its shadow. Features I mistook for decorations and arches are actually windows, stories and stories above us. It’s the largest single structure I’ve seen since coming to this world—hell, it might be bigger than anything I’ve seen back on Earth.

A distant din of noise begins to surge as we approach. “What is that sound?” I ask as Zyneth steers us to the front entrance. The entrance archway is two stories tall and half as wide, a constant stream of people pouring in and out.

But Zyneth doesn’t have to answer: as we step through the library’s doors, the roar of people echoes through the stone chambers. There must be a thousand people in here. Floors filled with bookshelves spiral up the walls of the dome, wider across the base and narrower toward the ceiling, allowing a wide shaft of light from the very top of the library to fall all the way to the ground floor. Even so, hundreds of soft lights are strung across the space on white strings, like dewdrops on a spiderweb. In fact, the spider motif continues elsewhere, with dozens of white, cat-sized spiders running along the lines, towing clusters of books behind them to place back on their shelves. People are chatting, laughing, excitedly discussing the contents of tomes and scrolls with their companions—not a single shushing librarian in sight.

“This is not like Earth libraries,” I say.

Zyneth laughs as we strike out across the floor.

Already we’re in a labyrinth of waist-high shelves that span almost the whole room. And calling it a room feels like a disservice when the entire Statue of Liberty could take a nap in here. The ground level is like some strange mix between an art museum and a bazaar; decorative fountains and statues litter the ground floor, interspersed between the shelves, while people seem to be holding loud business meetings in the stacks.

“Where do we even start?” I wonder aloud. To my right is a row of scrolls on a shelf labeled “Agriculture.”

“What you’ll be looking for is on higher floors,” Zyneth said, nodding toward the distant ceiling. “The first floor is public information. Anyone may enter and exit the library and read what they wish at the ground level. Of course, Yedzaquib’s helpers are spelled to prevent any of the texts from being taken from the premise.” He gestures to one of the spiders as it scurries across a nearby shelf. Up close, it appears to be made of stone, just like the marbled library itself, with a spell circle carved in its back and faint lines of magic tracing across its body.

“However,” Zyneth continues, “the library is organized by scarcity of information. While common knowledge can be found down here, the higher you ascend, the rarer the information you will find. At the top is the most valuable knowledge the library contains. And of course, the higher you ascend, the more steep the entry fee.”

Fee? This really isn’t like Earth libraries at all. “I do not have any money,” I say.

“Not to worry,” Zyneth says. “The curator does not deal in coin.”

Somehow, that makes me more worried.

After ten minutes of wading through the crowd, we finally make it over to a ramp along the wall. There’s several different ramps spread throughout the library, and they’re all about as wide as a house, gradually inching their way up around the side of the dome in enormous spirals. More shelves of books, scrolls, and stone tablets run up the ramps. Unlike the front door, this entry point is blocked.

A golden spiderweb is knit across the whole passage, at least a dozen feet high and twice as wide. The space between the strands glow with a film of light, and when I cautiously reach out to touch it, the light gives slightly, as if solid.

One of the library’s artificial spiders quickly skitters from the wall, across the top of the web, and then down to eye level. I take a hasty step back.

Purple runes light up on the back of the spider, which then swirl into the shape of words. “Admission fees required beyond this point.”

I glance questioningly to Zyneth. “How does this work?”

“Let me show you.” He steps up to the web and the spider construct crawls out of his way. Zyneth pauses for a moment, as if thinking, then steps forward. The web ripples like the surface of a lake, but otherwise doesn’t seem to resist his passage. He stops on the other side and turns back. The runes on the spider swirl into a new form: 20.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“The payment is knowledge,” Zyneth explains. “The more rare, the more valuable, and the more valuable, the higher floors you will have access to.”

What the fuck? “It is going to take my memories?”

“No, no,” Zyneth says. “It only makes a copy. You’ve nothing to worry about.”

“Oh yes,” I say. “Do not worry about the mind-reading spider magic, Kanin. It is such a common, normal thing.”

Zyneth snorts. “It really is fairly normal. I submitted information about the Black Spire. A layout of some of the streets. You may decide how much information you wish to submit; sometimes withholding knowledge can be to your benefit if you know you do not need access to top floors, and you plan on returning for a future visit. But in this case, you may want to submit something more rare; information about summoning magic exists on all floors, but the information you’re after is likely to be of the less common variety.”

“Hold on,” I say, still not nearly convinced this thing is as mundane as he claims. “Give me a moment to Check it over myself.”

[Memory Net, created by the curator Yedzaquib,] Echo says. [This field is imbued with a variant of the Mind Read spell.]

I wait for more elaboration, but Echo appears to have finished. What, that’s it?

[Affirmative,] Echo says. [This unit’s spell identification capacity is limited. Spells such as Inspect can provide more insight into the intentions and capabilities of arcana.]

I grumble at that, but I guess I can’t rely on Echo for everything. I’ll keep that Inspect spell in mind for future research. So it really just reads my mind, it doesn’t take any memories from me or anything?

[Affirmative,] Echo says.

Well, that’s something I guess.

What happens to the copy of my memory? I ask.

[The knowledge stored within Yedzaquib’s Athenaeum is gathered from the visiting patrons,] Echo says. [New information deemed worthy enough to be added to the library’s catalogue is copied from the donated memories and later added to the stacks.]

Guess I shouldn’t go thinking about anything I wouldn’t want to be public information, then.

Echo and Zyneth’s explanations are slightly mollifying, but this all still seems pretty fucking weird to me. Then again, I guess I’m a soul stuck in an ink bottle piloting around a glass Ironman suit, so who am I to judge?

“Okay,” I say, hesitantly stepping forward. But what information should I give it? Something about Earth? I bet that’s pretty rare. Unless everyday life stuff is ranked as “common knowledge” even if it is from a different world. What about Echo? That seems to be unique to me, so far as I can tell. And that’s something that’s this-world specific. Alright, I guess it’s worth a shot.

I hold a cautious hand before me, nervously stepping through the web as I think about Echo, her level systems, and ways she catalogs people into certain classes. The light washes over me as I pass through the barrier unhindered, and I don’t feel anything in particular as I pass through.

[Warning,] Echo suddenly pipes up. [You have been subjected to a variant of the Mind Read spell.]

Then, half a second later, she adds, [Spell timed out.]

Creepy. But at least now I know Echo will notify me if anything like that happens again.

I turn back to look as the spider’s runes resolve into my floor access: 33.

“Gods’ grace, Kanin,” Zyneth says. “Thirty-three?!”

“What? Is that bad?” I ask. “How high is that?”

Zyneth shakes his head. “All of them. That’s all the floors.”

“Oh,” I say. “Well that is good, right?”

“I’ve never witnessed anyone gain access above thirty,” Zyneth says. “What in the world did you do?”

“I do not know! I just did what you said!” I cry. “Your instructions were vague!”

“They were highly specific.” Zyneth rubs his head. “What memory did you offer?”

“Echo,” I say. “I thought about her and the stat system I can see.”

Zyneth blinks. “And you didn’t think mentioning an entirely unknown type of magic would be considered rare?”

I strangle the air in front of me before I try to compose myself. “Well I am not exactly an expert on what magic is or is not normal, am I?”

That finally seems to land with him. “Right,” he says. “Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re from… Well, what’s done is done.” Zyneth smooths out the front of his shirt. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

“Is it a problem?” I ask Zyneth as we climb the ramp. “I thought I wanted to get to the higher floors.”

“You do,” Zyneth says. “But if I’m restricted to level twenty, then I can’t accompany you beyond that.”

“I think I can handle reading some books on my own,” I say.

Zyneth frowns. “It will probably be fine. And I do need to begin investigating the task Gillow has given me, anyway. However… Well, the upper floors can be risky. In order to make it to the top floors you must have knowledge on subjects most of the rest of the world does not. That can attract very powerful individuals.”

“Are they dangerous?” I ask, alarmed. Man, this really isn’t anything like Earth libraries.

“Perhaps,” Zyneth says. “Although… I might be feeling overly cautious. The interaction with Gillow this morning still has me on edge.”

I’d nearly forgotten about them. To be honest, Red left me more uneasy than the nereid had. At least they hadn’t been itching to grab my soul and dissect my body.

“I promise not to pick too many fights,” I say, though the translator’s voice doesn’t quite pick up the level of sarcasm I was going for.

Zyneth nods, though his frown tells me he’s still worried. “Just try to keep a low profile while you’re up there. Don’t draw any undue attention to yourself.”

What. “Zyneth.” He glances my way as I gesture to, well, all of myself. “Try not to draw attention?”

That gets a laugh out of him. “I suppose a glass homunculus isn’t the most inconspicuous of forms, is it?”

“You think?”

Zyneth lets out a breath. “You’ll be fine. The curator keeps a tight hand on the library, so there shouldn’t be any trouble. I just don’t like not being there to assist you, should you need it.”

His concern would be touching if it didn’t imply he still sees me as a helpless little test tube.

Okay granted, just getting bumped into is likely to knock me over and cause me to shatter into a million pieces. But if the upper floors are as deserted as he says, it’s the one I’m currently on that I need to worry about.

It takes nearly an hour to weave up the massive incline, which has got to be some kind of fire code violation. Zyneth explains how to use the library and search for subjects as we climb. Similar to how the entry spell worked, it involves thinking about the subject you want to find, touching a web on the end of a bookshelf, and then a string lights up—or doesn’t—to guide you to the most relevant books on that shelf. Which sounds like it requires a lot of trial and error, but the shelves are at least generally sorted by subject. I guess this system doesn’t much care about who the author is.

“So should I focus on summoning magic?” I ask Zyneth. “Or traveling between dimensions? Or both?”

He shrugs. “I truly am not an expert in any of this. The Between is where this all first started. Perhaps that’s the best place to look.”

That sounds reasonable enough to me—and maybe it can shed some light on the nature of the predator while I’m at it. Not that the predator is my top priority anymore, now that it’s contained, but I’m not going to turn my nose up at any new information I might happen to come across.

As with all previous levels, a number on the railing and a gold line of silk across the floor marks the end of the twentieth level. Zyneth stops, a golden web barrier similar to the first floor blocking his path.

“We can start our research on this floor,” Zyneth offers. “There will be plenty of information on Between and different arcana sources on twenty and below.”

He’s just being nervous again. “Somehow, I doubt reality-hopping magic is going to be in the ‘common knowledge’ sections of the library.”

His lips twitch into a brief smile. “Alright, I can take a hint. Good luck up there. Don’t go too far—it will take time just to walk back down. I’ll be waiting on floor twenty until you return.”

“Thank you,” I say, and then pause uncertainly. It’s been so long since I’ve had a body that I’m not sure how to close out this conversation. A hug? A handshake? In the end I awkwardly wave, then turn and step over the line to floor twenty-one.

A rush of excitement fills me as I leave Zyneth behind. Maybe I should feel bad about that. Like Noli, Zyneth has helped me with everything I’ve needed, without question or compensation, since I got here. Even if they’d never accept it, I owe them both a lot.

But this is something I can do. Researching a way to get my body back finally gives me a modicum of autonomy over my circumstances.

And I’m way overdue to take things back into my own hands.