Taking Zyneth’s advice—and keeping in mind the earlier warning about dangerous folk maybe hanging around the top floors—I only head up another couple levels before I start poking around the stacks. Already there are significantly less people around. The crowds had begun to thin once we’d made it past floor ten, and they’d gone down to a trickle by floor twenty. Up at my current vantage point, I only notice a dozen other people around, all already sitting at tables, buried in their books. Interestingly, however, there are more homunculi up here than there were in the general sections, the automatons often standing at attention next to their studious summoner, or pulling more scrolls and tablets from the shelves to bring back to their mage. I suppose it makes sense that the people frequenting the higher floors are more likely to be wizards or have the money to lease a homunculus, though seeing them around still creeps me out in a way I can’t quite articulate. On the plus side, it means my presence isn’t unusual. You know, apart from the glass thing.

At Zyneth’s suggestion, I wander over to the nearest shelf and rest my hand against the carving of a web that’s embedded in the wood, thinking about the Between, the void, and null arcana. A light illuminates the design, shining just beneath the grain, but it quickly dims and fades out. I step to the next shelf, repeating the process, and the light glows, slightly brighter this time before fading once more.

Well this is some Hot and Cold crap. Even so, I make my way around the shelves, trailing my hand over the surface of each one I pass. The light gets brighter the further I head up stacks, until finally it doesn’t fade out at all. Instead, one of the zigzagging lines of web lights up, disappearing around the side of the shelf and out of sight. I poke my head around the corner and see the spider silk following a haphazard pattern which ends at a section of books midway down the stack. I follow the thread to the books it’s indicating as the glow slowly fades from the shelf.

The section it’s led me to is about planar dimensions. I instinctively touch my satchel, where I have a similar book stored. Planar Theories, it’s called, with the subtitle As Relevant to Arcana Sources and the Great Ruins. You know, your typical light reading. Then again, I’m probably about to dive into some pretty dense stuff with these books, too.

Unsure where to start, I grab one off the shelf—where it immediately slips from my grasp and falls to the floor, narrowly avoiding shattering my foot. God damn it. I need to do something about this lack of upper body strength. And maybe upgrade to steel-toed shoes.

Peeling some of the void away from my legs and back—and standing as rigidly as possible to avoid falling over—I grab the book with the shadows and order it back up off the floor. The void obliges—fairly easily, in fact. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised the void is stronger than my glass: the predator had been insanely powerful, and this is a piece of that monster. At least it’s working for me, now.

As handy as the void is at picking up books, I won’t be able to walk anywhere while the void is holding them, which means I’ll need to find a different way to ferry items around. Since my satchel is already stuffed full of my own two magic tomes, I set the library book on the shelf and summon my signing glass from beneath my cloak. Quickly working some Chains into the collection of glass, I create a very flimsy glass net which affixes to the side of my satchel. Adding the library book to my bag’s side-cart, I send the void back to my legs and back, then make for the nearest table. This is going to become very tedious.

I go through the books in a sort of a trial-and-error approach—mostly error—skimming the titles and chapters for something that looks relevant. All told, I dig through perhaps a dozen books over the course of the rapidly-expiring afternoon, gathering a smattering of relevant passages.

Magic, one book reads, after I realize I’m in a bit over my head and have to go back to the basics, is a fundamental force of existence, as natural as gravity, electricity, or elementary chemicals. While some may assert the field is inherently spiritual, this text prefers to take a more scientific approach. Magic is of course observable in everyday life, though more importantly the mechanics through which it is able to be manipulated are well known and repeatable, and even quantifiable. Mana, the volume of magic an individual has access to at any given time, is variable depending on species, practice, and natural talent, however it is measurable in all cases. And, like chemicals, magic comes in many forms–qualitatively, we call these different fields arcana.

If mana is the cup which limits how much magic you may stow, then arcana are the different liquids which may fill that cup. Each liquid has a different practical use: You would not use alcohol to put out a fire anymore than you would use water to disinfect a wound. Furthermore, each of these arcana arises from a magical source: the well that is used to fill your cup. Which well you have access to is limited by which arcana you have an affinity for.

A summary of common arcana fields and their corresponding sources are listed below. This list is not comprehensive, and indeed there are numerous, if not infinite, planes from which mana can be pulled from, however what follows are the most oft used arcana sources in present society:

The Gyre: Storm arcana, focusing in water, air, and electricity magics

The Pith: Earth arcana, focusing in fire, stone, and metal magics

The Lull: Life arcana, focusing in nature, healing, and necrotic magics

The Abyss: Ocular arcana, focusing in illusion, light, and shadow magics

The Between: Null arcana, focusing in void, space, and summoning magics

There it is. And that fits what I understand so far about the Between and the nature of the void. All these places–the Abyss, the Gyre, the Between–are actual dimensions that can be traveled to. All sources of different types of magic. And somehow, Noli and I had ended up in the Between.

I guess that makes sense, given the types of magic it enables. But the question is: how can I use that to recover my body from Earth?

I wield null arcana, so if I’m going to learn any new spells, I probably need to start there. And even though my affinity is void (well, and glass, which apparently falls way down into the Earth arcana tree, but that’s not particularly useful in this instance), space and summoning also fall in the same general category, both of which sound promising for World Traveling Magics.

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In fact, that the predator came from Between also might hold some key to how I can access it. If I could learn more about the nature of the predator, maybe it’ll give me some insight on how I can travel through the Between, too.

Heading over to the nearest shelf, I think about the predator as I touch the web. The markings don’t light up. That’s odd—usually they’re at least dim if the knowledge is stored on a shelf further away. Maybe I’m being too specific. Instead, I think more generally about creatures trapped in the Between and how that might happen. Still, though, nothing.

Seeing as I have time to burn, I head up the flights of stairs, trying shelves one at a time. The library grows quiet the higher I climb, and fewer and fewer individuals are around each new floor I ascend. Over floor twenty-eight, I start to draw looks. There’s only one or two people in each of these sections, so any newcomers seem to draw attention—not that my appearance helps. But still, there’s nothing on the predator. Nothing even tangentially related. The shelves don’t show the slightest flicker of light. Something about this makes me uneasy.

Breaching thirty, the webs are still completely unresponsive to anything related to the predator. Something definitely feels strange about this to me now. Seeing as I’ve already come this far, I decide to head all the way to the top. As I circle around the dome, each of the higher levels have become shorter and shorter, and when I finally make it to the top of the library, Floor Thirty-Three is little more than a spacious room with a handful of dusty shelves.

No one else is here. The space feels tense and oppressive. Hastily, I do a lap around the room, trailing my hand over every shelf I pass. But not a single thread lights up. There isn’t one scrap of information on the predator in this entire library. And if this is supposed to be the world’s greatest wealth of knowledge, does that mean no one anywhere has information on it?

Unsettled, I quickly head back down. I try to shake away the disquiet the top floors left me with. It would have been nice to learn more about that creature, but I suppose it’s not my main objective anyway. I should stay focused on learning a way to retrieve my body. That’s why I’m here, after all. Quickly leaving the stifling atmosphere of the upper levels behind, I head back to the low twenties and spend the rest of the day reading books on null arcana and the Between.

I reluctantly leave the library that evening, at Zyneth’s insistence, when he’s ready for dinner. Seems he’s not wild about leaving me here alone overnight, no matter how much more efficient that might be.

By the end of Day One, I’ve absorbed a handful of new spells, including that Inspect spell Echo mentioned.

[Inspect: Used as a skill, it may glean information about a spell’s power, arcana type, and purpose. Additional information may be obtained by activating as a spell.]

[Dowse: A spell which can detect a nearby element or arcana source which the caster has an affinity for.]

[Refraction: A combination of glass and void arcana, this spell incorporates the tertiary abilities of shadow and light to create a low-grade illusory spell which can be used for basic camouflage.]

[Void Whip: A volume of Attuned void may be infused with mana in order to lend power and solidity to the limb.]

Inspect might come in useful at some point: learning more about spells might even help me here in the library. Refraction seemed interesting on the surface, but after I try to activate it, I find I don’t have nearly enough mana for it to cloak my whole body. At most, I’m able to make my hand shimmer and disappear, though the light warps through my hand strangely, making it apparent that something is still there. As the spell says, it’s only basic camouflage at best.

The Void Whip is curious. Seems like a better offensive attack than trying to stab things with my fragile glass fragments, prone to shattering, although doing so would mean repurposing the void that’s currently keeping me upright and walking. I’m also not really planning on getting into any more trouble. Ideally, it’s a spell I’ll never need.

Hah! That’s laughable. Not like trouble doesn’t always seem to find me.

“Anything at all?” Zyneth asks me that night over a bowl of steaming noodles and broth. “Leads, at least?”

The crowd here is nearly as bustling as it was on the first floor of the Athenaeum. We’re only a block or two away from the library, but the busting excitement seems to have bled from one scene to the other. Everyone here is always moving, always talking. It’s a far cry from Noli and Rezira’s quiet hometown of Bluevine. In some ways, Miasmere reminds me of Los Angeles, but the people here are too strange for it to feel familiar.

“I am not sure,” I admit. “The lack of information on the predator was odd. And studying the Between does not seem to be the right answer. I understand more about basic magic now, but nothing that would help me recover my body.” Or find a way home. For some reason, I don’t say that part aloud. “I have mostly been researching void magic and the Between. I think going forward I should focus on other fields of null magic: summoning and space.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Zyneth says, stirring a spoon through the broth thoughtfully. “This was only the first day, afterall. I might have six days to fulfill Gillow’s job, but you’ve all the time in the world to browse the Athenaeum’s stacks. There’s a wealth of knowledge here: You should take your time and learn as much as you’re able.”

An inebriated customer at the next table over is talking loudly and gesturing wildly to his tablemate, consistently knocking into an array of bottles that almost certainly will be sent cascading to the street at any moment. I wonder if I could swipe a couple to Attune later tonight while Zyneth sleeps.

“I know, you are right,” I say, drumming my fingers on the table. Instead of satisfying deep tones, the glass on wood provides a musical tinkling. I stop. “I am just impatient. I want to be moving forward faster.”

“You are already mastering magic at a remarkable rate,” Zyneth says. “You could probably learn dozens of more spells here while you’re at it.”

That sounds overwhelming. But it also might break up the monotony. And I suppose anything that might help me get closer to recovering my body—and prevent me from dying in the meantime—is worth my while.

The drunk man finally overestimates his dexterity. One of the bottles falls over from a slap of his hand, then goes rolling to the edge of the table. Zyneth reaches for it. I cast Void Whip.

The void from my legs and spine jumps into a limb of shadows, snapping out to grab the bottle as it tips off the table. I catch it an inch above Zyneth’s outstretched hand.

He looks up at me, raising an impressed eyebrow. “See? Progress already.”

I set the bottle down on our table then disperse the magic.

[Spell ended. Mana cost: 5,] Echo says.

The shadows had felt almost solid. More real than they ever had before. “It will certainly help with carrying books,” I say.

Zyneth snorts.

“What?” I demand, a little offended. That wasn’t supposed to be a joke.

“I just never pictured you as the bookish type,” Zyneth says. “Yet, here we are.”

Hm. I suppose, neither did I. I hadn’t been much of a reader back on Earth—not apart from reading my scripts. But I guess I hadn’t had an important reason to read before now. My very existence hadn’t depended on it. And you know, reimagining myself as a bookish type doesn’t even feel that strange to me now. Funny how things change. “Here we are,” I agree.

As we leave to retire to our inn for the night, I swipe another two bottles from the drunk man’s table. Can never have too much glass.