The three of them sat at a table. Their skin was smooth and their hair clean, smooth, oiled. Their gold watches and necklaces perfectly offset their tanned skin. They looked like shiny mannequins, advertising a life of elegance and excess.
"I started in the late aughts and the transformation scene took about 4 months," the woman said as she tugged her dress down to her knees. The glitter would've been blinding if it weren't for her the dull light in her eyes.
The other plasticized woman spoke up, "We all had our own journeys, but the structure of the past 10 weeks was amazing. It was such a cerebral experience." She fanned herself with her hand, acrylic nails raking the air.
The lone man nodded in agreement. I couldn't tell if he was smiling because he was happy or if his face had just been set that way. "The help that master Arjay provided was beyond imagining. It was like having a lifestyle sherpa leading you through the mountainous terrain of all that life had to offer."
I leaned my mind away from them and looked out at the rest of the cafe's tables. The mindless drivel flowing through the lips of the cafe's patrons was nauseatingly dull. It was all at once positive and meaningless. And in the center of it all, Arjay. He kept his hands together as if in eternal prayer and his head slightly bowed.
The goblin's entourage was difficult to stomach. They were lawyers, designers, probably even a writer or two among them. But they, through no fault of their own, found themselves attracted to the orbit of a goblin. To their benefit, he didn't look like a goblin. He appeared to all a very small and humble man. His aged skin spoke of decades (although he was probably hundreds of years old) while the olive complexion hinted at vaguely Asiatic origins.
"Soo, I presume?" he hissed pleasantly. I suppressed the urge to grunt in surprise.
"Yes," and then after a pause I added a "sir."
He laughed and waved at the crowd that had grown silent, "Please. Don't let this get to you. Treat me as you would any other patron, no special treatment. Not unless you want to risk Maria's rage."
I winced at that. Last week after my run-in with the stranger, I slowly and carefully made my way back to the hearthhome. Maria and Hanna were in the middle of a conversation, when I interrupted with my story of the day's events. Hanna's face betrayed her fear while Maria's silence spoke volumes.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Since then, I'd been tasked with working with patrons. Helping them carry books in and out of the library and acting as a sort of guide. I suspected it was more for my benefit than theirs.
"Shall we?" Arjay's voice was chipper and upbeat.
It was Tuesday. On Sunday, I'd been tasked with guiding an older woman through the library to a section housing books on foods from mythology. Monday was a trudge through the upper deck where there were several rooms filled with books on philosophy. And now, today-
"The basement?" I repeated. I'd never seen any stairs or any sign that there was a level beneath the library.
"Oh, yes. Of course," Arjay repeated with a tinge of excitement. "It won't do to dilly-dally. Off we go."
Arjay led the way and I followed him around the back of the Leatherbound. A small impish door stood off to the side.
"There are other ways into the basement level," Arjay spoke. "This one is the quickest." He retrieved a small ornate key and unlocked the door. A resolute click sounded as he opened the door and we made our way in.
It was cold. Unlike the rest of the library, this area was all stonework. And, most importantly, there weren't any books. At least, not yet. We made our way slowly down the steps in silence. The urge to run in fear was there, but there was a curiosity. I'd seen so much that the library had to offer and through the dangers of it all, I was still here.
"Here we are." Arjay slowed and looked up. I followed his gaze to a tall, wooden door with metal hinges and all-manner of latches. The wood was dark and any luster that the metal might've held was worn and corroded by time. The door looked ominous.
"Did Maria tell you what I was doing here today?" the goblin asked.
"I just assumed you were here for some books." Of course, I was starting to realize that wasn't likely to be it.
"Hrm." Arjay placed his palm against his door and pressed. I could see the mechanics of the door as it recognized his touch and reacted to it. The door creaked open slowly and revealed a small room filled to the brim with tools I'd never seen before.
"I think an explanation is in order," the old man said. Yes, please. "The library is a wonderfully magical place, but it has its dangers. I heard you got a taste of that on your first day with a book?"
The demon.
"Yes. If not careful, knowledge within the books can leak out and without a mind to contain it, it becomes a force unto itself. While you were able to contain that one, there are others in the library. And today, you'll be helping me capture and contain them."
I realized the room was arranged much like tools in a garage. Items hung from hooks on walls while tables were carefully laid out with magical items. Everything hummed with the potential for... something.
While I stared, Arjay purposely gathered items for himself. A small bell from the wall, a box from a shelf, a book from the table and a small pouch whose contents I was sure I'd learn later.
"There now, that should be enough." Satisfied with his haul, Arjay turned to me. "Ready?"
And before I could say anything, he deftly took hold of a silver handle on the ground, pulled and the world fell away.