There were a lot of answers sitting on the tip of Quinn's tongue as she stared at Uncle Hal. She could have answered him honestly. She could have told him they quite literally had no clue how these books had not only gone missing from the Library, but somehow had also been wiped completely from the memory of the Library and anybody who had come into contact with them who actually worked in the Library. But she didn't, because she was too busy pouring every ounce of energy into not gaping at the eight-foot-tall satyr who now stood in front of her desk.

Upon closer inspection, she realized he had flames licking the horns on his head.

Fire.

In a Library.

Was that not dangerous? Couldn't the Library and everything in it be burned to ash in a heartbeat? She was pretty sure his fire was formidable.

I'm not going to burn down, the Library's voice inserted into her mind. I'm not that type of flammable.

Quinn suppressed a laugh, finally freed from the tension she felt when Uncle Hal appeared.

"Let's start from the beginning," Eric said, breaking the silence as he darted in to hover above her desk. "Uncle Hal, this is Quinn, the new Librarian, and Quinn, this is my Uncle Hal, for want of easier pronunciation for you."

Quinn smiled as much as she could around the nerves she still felt building in her gut. She stood up and reached a hand forward to shake.

Hal raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, that's a very earth-human custom. Aren't you somewhat far from home, young lady?" his eyes narrowed as he said the latter and it made her feel like she was being x-rayed.

Quinn balked at the look in his eyes. He wasn't monstrous, that wasn't the right term, but he was regal and powerful and dangerous. She could feel it emanating off him in waves. And yet, the Library's reaction to his presence was almost nonchalant, as if he was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things as far as the Library itself was concerned.

As far as Quinn was concerned, she was having a lot of trouble controlling her bladder.

His eyes raked her up and down, but not in a creepy way. It felt more like he was assessing her capabilities and ended up finding her wanting. He scowled for a second. "How long has the new Librarian been present?"

Eric tsked under his breath. "How long do you think the Library's been operational again? What, two months? Do you think they've changed Librarian's again in the meantime?"

"Do not take that tone with me, Eric," Hal said. But she thought there was more levity in his words although it was difficult to tell.

Quinn could sense the lightening of his mood as his nephew spoke to him with the same lack of deference as he always did. Apparently, it wasn't just the way Eric behaved around her. He behaved around everybody, regardless of status.

The King of Halschius, which came way too close to King of Hell for Quinn's comfort, might rate a little bit more respect than Eric was currently showing. Hal shifted his stance and crossed his arms, looking at Lynx and at Eric, and then pinpointing Aradie with his glare before he spoke. "Why was I not informed that the experiment was taking place? What has the council been doing?"

For several seconds, there was absolute silence in the room. Not even their breathing intruded. Quinn could quite literally hear nothing. It was so overwhelming that it felt suffocating. Just as she was about to speak, a swirl of wind erupted in the middle of the room and left, leaving Milaro standing in its wake.

"About time you showed up," Hal said, his scowl deepening if that was even possible.

Milaro shrugged, his good-natured smile coming to the fore. But there was a tension that remained in his shoulders, and Quinn could see that the smile, for once, didn't reach Milaro's eyes. "I believe you were asking about the experiment," he said, a smile tweaking the corners of his lips. "I came as fast as I could."

It took every ounce of willpower for Quinn not to high five that use of sarcasm.

"You know exactly what I'm asking," Hal said, his voice somehow deepening. It resonated through the floor, through the entire room, but Quinn realized that the Library didn't allow that force to penetrate the outer walls of her office. It was good to know that level of control was possible within the Library.

Again, you could always just ask me.

Quinn didn't dignify that with a response.

"Well, as you can see, it happened." Milaro shrugged. To anyone outside, it might appear that he was being dismissive, but Quinn could tell he was tense. "You were a little busy."

"What do you mean, I was busy?" Hal sounded incensed. Offended even. "You could have summoned one of my aides. I could have helped. You've made her weak."

"She's not weak. We gave her all of the components we discussed initially."

"What? You mean you actually broke down the Seveshall family essence to give her your abilities?" Hal began the statement with an air of flippancy, but grew serious as Milaro's stone face confirmed the sarcasm to be true. "Wow, Milaro, you have grown up."

"Oh, shut up, Hal," Milaro said, and Quinn suppressed a gasp. This was the most heated argument she'd heard Milaro in yet. "You could have stayed around. You were the one who told us to go ahead and form the emergency council and do what we thought needed to be done. You had too much unrest at home."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Hal scowled at him, but as seconds passed and nothing else happened, Quinn realized that he couldn't seem to argue with Milaro, for whatever the Elf King had said obviously hit home. She tried to open her mouth and speak again, but this time Hal cut in again.

"Regardless, you should have informed me." At least now he seemed only disgruntled and not angry.

"We did. Maybe check your messages every now and again," Milaro said, "and to be frank, we didn't know it had succeeded until the Library reopened. So just cool your temper. Everything will be fine."

The tension leaked back out of Hal's shoulders, and he sighed, turning his attention back to Quinn, assessing her yet again. "You did turn out quite well," he said, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "I would have designed you slightly differently."

"Just because y'all decided to give me ABC whatevers doesn't mean I'm not my own person." All this talk about her as if she wasn't there was truly getting old. "Give it a damn rest."

Hal very elegantly raised his right eyebrow. "You have a spine and some fire. You are welcome to visit Halschius whenever you would like. I would give you a tour. I think you'd get on well with some of my children. Not him, though." He pointed at Eric.

"Uncle Hal, give it a rest." the imp said, the hum of his wings edging ever so higher.

"What? You can be cantankerous, annoying, and belligerent." Hal grinned at him and chills ran down Quinn's spine. Those serrated, shark-like teeth were going to give her nightmares.

"All traits I learned from you dear uncle," Eric said, putting his nose up into the air and fluttering his wings even harder than usual.

Instead of scowling, Hal actually laughed, a booming, mirthful sound Quinn was not expecting to come out of an eight-feet-tall, burning-horned satyr.

Quinn sighed and cleared her throat. "As fascinating as this discussion of me is, I want to direct our attention away from me for just a moment. Let's talk about the books I'm sure you're here to berate us about." She was trying to smooth over the fact that she was quite certain Milaro and Hal had a lot to talk about and if she gave them ten minutes now, it would turn into hours, and they would keep arguing. She already existed, so the Library was open. Everybody should be happy.

Quinn, however, felt very tired.

"Yes, the books," he said, as if he'd forgotten, even for a split second, what he'd come here for. "I would love an explanation for how you let the five most important books in my arsenal disappear. You were supposed to be safe, Drevicia."

"Don't use my real name, Hal," the Library intoned, its voice ringing through the entire office.

"Ah, what should I call you then? Library?" He said the last word disdainfully as if it was a lesser thing.

"You know that's what I am now." There was steel in the sound as the Library spoke, and the walls practically shook with the power.

"No, you are s—whatever. Such a stupid charade," Hal muttered under his breath. "One of these days, it's going to come back and bite you, if it hasn't already, by the fact that I can tell just from walking in here that you are broken, almost beyond repair."

The Library gasped. It was a forceful sound, heartbreaking almost, like something shattered around them.

Quinn felt it in her soul.

"You don't know that," the Library spat. Quinn noticed the shadows coalescing into a form as the Library presented an equally tall form in front of the satyr. A tail jutted out from it, elegantly dangling down as it stood on two feet. Quinn could tell the fingernails were elongated into claws. The Library was elegant and beautiful, powerful and somehow completely melancholy.

"Do not name me again. You no longer have permission. You gave that up eons ago." The Library practically spat the words out in a low tone that hummed in time with the Library's usual flow of power.

Quinn could have cut the tension with a spoon, let alone a butter knife. She took a deep breath and tried to play peacemaker again. "Can we redirect the attention to the matter at hand first, and then you can all go to your own room, dig up your past that you still don't want to share with me, and have at it, okay?"

Three heads turned in Quinn's direction. The ones with eyes, Hal and Milaro, blinked. Quinn was fairly sure that if the Library's shadow self had been able to blink at her, it would have too.

"Quinn speaks the truth," the Library said. "You need to help us figure this out. What exactly are they going to use those books for?"

Hal leaned back, studying the shadow in front of him. "You honestly don't remember the discussion we had when I brought those books to you?"

"No. So much of it is gone." Suddenly the Library sounded almost defeated. "You don't understand."

"And you have the nerve to stand in front of me and tell me that you're not broken, and be upset that I pointed it out?" Hal's voice had lost most of its anger. In its place was genuine worry.

"No. But you don't need to remind me of something I'm already painfully aware of."

"And how are you going to rectify it without my help? Why has it taken you so long to fetch me? And you didn't even fetch me. You sent my nephew to inform me." Now Hal sounded wounded by the fact that his... maybe friend hadn't sought out his help.

"Actually," Eric piped up, a mischievous grin on his face, "the Library didn't send me either. I just kind of went, 'I'm going to go tell my uncle that the books are missing.' For shits and giggles."

"Eric, this is grown-up talk and you've already interfered enough," his uncle said before turning back to the Library and Milaro leaving the imp to gape at the back of his head.

Hal's tone was now full of concern, and much less oppressing than when he was angered. "You had to know I can help."

"But you've been so busy, those wars have waged for millennia." Milaro began.

"I always have a war or two or three or seven raging on." Hal shrugged easily. "That's how Halischius works. You know it. I know it. The entire universe knows it."

"Even if this one's been particularly nasty?" The Library asked gently.

"What?" Hal laughed again, but softer this time, perhaps it rated as a chuckle for him. "Because one of my sons is trying to kill me? Again? Do you think that's anything other than commonplace for me?"

"Well," Milaro said, "maybe if one of them actually meant to kill you instead of just whiling away the hours of boredom of eternal life, perhaps."

"Oh, will you shut up? You're worse than your grandfather." But the King of Halschius was smiling.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Milaro said. "We'll discuss this later."

"Everything later. But right now, dear Librarian," Hal turned around, crossing his arms, "to answer your question...If you combine Ririn's Dimensional Distortion Through Sacrificial Means, the Parsneauvian Theory of Spatial Dimension Manipulation, the Crown and Fall of Pocket Dimensions Due to Spatial Interference, Machmüller's Theory of Dimensional Dissolution and Disintegration through Ritual Sacrifice and DeKarlyle's Thesis of Spatial Distortion, you can essentially create or even unmake dimensions regardless of the type of magical input. You could technically even dissolve dimensions despite copious protections that have been put in place. If you tweak it correctly. Technically."

Quinn gasped as the puzzle pieces that were the books all slammed into place in her mind. "Like the pocket dimension the Library sits in?"

"Precisely." Hal agreed. "And I hate to say it, but given the report of the state of the tree you found Machmüller's book in, and how long these books have been outside of the Library for... I think whoever means the Library harm might be close to fully capable of inflicting it."