Bayou Fairy Tale (26 page)

“Mmm-yeah. The Skinners are gone.” Taylor nodded, then drew his brows together. “Are you really okay?”

“Fine,” Corentin lied without thinking about it. “Ray had some enchantment going. I thought my brain was going to leak out my ears.” He chuckled weakly, then coughed.

“If Ringo hadn’t summoned that bubble, I would have been done for.” Taylor laughed. “Now that would have sucked, right?”

Corentin hissed a laugh, then coughed wetly again.

“Sorry to interrupt the loving reunion, but we have work to do,” the woman said over them.

Corentin tightened his grip on Taylor and glared at the slender blonde woman. She wiped the muck off her sword-length meat cleaver. With a flick of her fingers, she let her peculiar blade dissolve into red heart-shaped motes of light.

Taylor rested his hands on Corentin’s shoulders. “She saved us. She’s here to help.”

“Who?” Corentin asked as his head became a dull ache.

“You may call me Aliss Magnus, Mr. Devereaux,” she said as she adjusted her red leather gloves. “Princess Hatfield and I have met. You are of particular interest to us.”

“Us?” Corentin shook his head. He glanced to Taylor, and Taylor smiled in a slight, unsure way.

“It’s okay,” Taylor whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Corentin said as he tried to stand. His leg gave out, and he crashed back to the roof. Upon closer observation, Ray had driven one of his hair locks right through his thigh. He slapped his hands to the open wound and tried to control the bleeding. Corentin kept his focus on the moment at hand. He squinted through the pain back at the red-clad woman. “As I was saying, who are you again?”

She curtseyed. “Aliss Magnus, and we are the Library.”

Corentin shook his head. “The what?”

Taylor patted his back. “It’s a long story.”

May 8

Tulane University, New Orleans

A BROAD-CHESTED
behemoth of a man shoved the unconscious Ray into the trunk of Aliss’s Hummer. His walnut-sized knuckles, tattooed with HOLD FAST, gave Taylor pause as he stood aside, shivering from the last moment of adrenaline tapering off.

“Is he going to be okay?” Taylor asked, and the giant looked upon him like a speck of dirt. Taylor clenched his fist, wishing his lance was there.

Ringo sat on Taylor’s shoulder and shushed him. “I don’t think asking questions is going to work here.”

“Princess Valentine?” Aliss asked as the giant slammed the trunk shut. She slipped forward, heading for the front passenger side. “Princess Valentine will know what it is to live with his mistakes,” she assured them. Only it didn’t sound terribly assuring to Taylor.

In contrast to the giant’s immense size, a tall slim man helped Corentin into the backseat. Corentin eased back, rear first, and babied his leg as he pulled it in. The man headed to the back passenger side and eased in next to Corentin, his aviator shades too dark to get a look at his face.

Taylor winced. “When’s Honeysuckle getting here?” he whispered.

“Soon, I hope,” Ringo said. “She’ll know where to find us.”

“Pixie magic works in strange ways,” Taylor said as the giant ushered them into the backseat next to Corentin.

The giant revved the engine, and the Hummer took off down the snowy debris-ridden streets.

“What happened to the Skinners?” Corentin asked. “They’re out there.”

Aliss carefully brushed her blonde bangs aside as she watched herself in the window visor mirror. “They’re gone. Vanished into the night as if something called them away. Princess Valentine was merely a middle man—a handler, if you will.”

“Are you going to hurt Ray?” Taylor asked, glancing at Corentin.

Gritting his teeth, Corentin kept pressure on the hole in his leg.

“Mr. Devereaux,” Aliss said. “Do you want us to hurt him?”

Taylor gawked at Corentin as his brows slammed low and he rumbled in a snarl.

“I want him to live.” Corentin grimaced through the pain.

Relief cooled Taylor’s raw nerves that Corentin still took the high road when faced with temptation.

“I want him to live with the pain of what he’s done.” The blood seeped through Corentin’s fingers. “I want him to have a clear and excruciating understanding of what happens when he throws in his lot with a Stepmother and the Skinners.”

“Corentin…,” Taylor whispered and shook his head. “You can’t.”

“What?” Corentin snapped in response. “Judge him? Because he’s a princess?”

“Very well,” Aliss said with a nod. “Your wish is granted Mr. Devereaux.”

“Hold on,” Taylor said. “What’s going on? Where are you taking us?”

Aliss sat back in the passenger seat and relaxed. “Between the stacks, Princess Hatfield. You can take comfort in knowing you two are safe for now.”

Between the stacks? Taylor rested his hand on Corentin’s blood-slicked one. They nodded to each other in understanding—
all will be well, but be prepared when it isn’t
.

TAYLOR KEPT
watch out the window as the Hummer drove over the downed frozen oak branches as they navigated the ruins of Tulane University campus. Corentin hissed a sharp gasp with each bump in the road.

“He needs help,” Taylor urged Aliss.

Aliss didn’t seem at all flustered. “He’s a Cronespawn. They can survive far worse things. As long as he doesn’t channel his dark magic, he’ll be fine. Isn’t that right, Mr. Devereaux?”

“She has a point,” Corentin said as he took slow, even breaths. “You know what happened the last time.”

Taylor watched out the window, and again the Hummer rocked as the giant drove over another collection of branches. “I remember,” Taylor said, lost in thought. “You were fresh out of borrowed time, if I recall.”

Ringo put his small hands to the window and whistled. His breath fogged on the glass. “Well. When you guys said you were the Library, I wasn’t—y’know—expecting
a library
.”

Corentin leaned into Taylor, and Taylor likewise leaned toward the window. The Howard-Tilton Library loomed over them like a pale prison. The tall, narrow windows looked more like strategic battlements instead of a place of arts and literature. Taylor clenched his stomach, expecting a hail of flaming arrows.

“Hiding in plain sight, you could say,” Aliss said, popping the door as the Hummer coasted to a stop. Her booted feet crunched in the snow, and she called into the vehicle, “Jax, Beane, send for Gabrielle immediately.”

The two men nodded. Together, they and Aliss pulled small children’s books from their pockets: Aliss, a copy of
Through the Looking-Glass
, and Jax and Beane shared a copy of
Jack and the Beanstalk
.

Aliss ran her fingers over the lettering, and the words danced off the page in long, lazy swirls.

Taylor, Corentin, and Ringo glanced at one another. Ringo shrugged.

In a blink of iridescence, the Hummer and all of the passengers appeared in a torchlit temple. Ringo scratched his head, and Taylor helped Corentin out of the Hummer. They stood for a long moment, befuddled by it all. The golden columns had been carved with long lines of literature, and the arched ceilings had been decorated with sweet cherubs and creatures of myth—unicorns, chimeras, and centaurs, all frolicking peacefully in the frescoes.

“It’s a parking garage?” Taylor asked, not sure of himself.

Rows and rows of various cars and motorcycles lined the temple.

Aliss pulled off her gloves and draped them over one arm. “We need one, of course.”

“Of course,” Corentin said and arched a brow at Taylor.

“Just when it couldn’t get any weirder…,” Ringo whispered under his breath.

“Shut it,” Corentin said.

“There’s much more to see,” Aliss said as she led them on.

Taylor braced Corentin as they navigated the long fortress halls. Butterflies and sprites zipped to and fro on their own tasks for something Taylor couldn’t piece together.

Corentin caught his foot on a brick and stumbled in Taylor’s grasp. Taylor staggered with the shift in weight. “Sorry.” Corentin winced. The blood soaked into his jeans and left a squiggling trail down his foot.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Taylor said in his ear. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“He’s fine.” Aliss spoke up in an authoritative tone.

Taylor scowled when she didn’t spare them a glance or slow her pace. “Yeah.” Taylor adjusted his grip on Corentin. “We got that part. But I’m sure he’s not made of twenty gallons of blood.”

“Cronespawn are amazing creatures with what they can endure,” Aliss said.

“He’s not some creature,” Taylor grumbled.

Corentin didn’t answer. The lack of defending himself worried Taylor.

He caught Corentin’s gaze wandering around the long hall. He was hunting for escape routes, and Taylor gave his hand a reassuring squeeze that he understood.

“Ringo told me the Library doesn’t exist,” he said to Aliss.

She didn’t break her stride. “We don’t.”

“So, where are we?” Corentin spoke up.

Golden bricks shined with a kaleidoscope of pastel colors. Taylor looked up at the single trail of glowing orbs that lit the way with soft apricot lighting. Butterflies fluttered about, perching in the brick joints and then fluttering off again.

“This?” Aliss pulled open intimidating ivy-covered doors. Light flooded around them, and Taylor shivered at the familiar warmth on his frozen bones. She beckoned them forward through the doors. “Welcome to Idea.”

Taylor ducked his head, shielding his eyes from the light as they crossed the threshold. He blinked, and in careful amounts, let his eyes adjust to brightness.

“Taylor, look….” Ringo’s voice was filled with awe.

“That’s different.” Corentin coughed.

Taylor raised his head and gasped.

A vast sunny valley lay out before them. Lush green grasses rolled in the gentle summer breeze. A crystalline blue lake rippled as a sprinkling of flower petals dappled the surface. Butterflies in colors not known to mundanes flittered about without a care or worry for the snowy ruin just outside.

“How far does it go?” Taylor asked.

“How far do you want it to go?” Aliss asked with a slight smile. “Idea currently stretches for twenty miles, because we all agreed we should be conservative for now.”

“We?” Corentin asked. “Who’s we?”

“All of the Library Council,” Aliss said, then glanced at Corentin’s leg. “We should get that looked at.”

“You don’t say.” Corentin flattened his brows.

“Follow me.” She stepped out onto a cobblestone path that rolled out under her feet like fabric.

Together, they followed it through the peaceful valley.

“So what is the Library and who are the Library Council?” Taylor would have his answers, and he forced his frustration not to get the best of him. Aliss had rescued them this time, so perhaps she was on their side after all. When Taylor had met her, she had seemed almost eager for Taylor to sacrifice himself for Corentin.

“The Library is a safe haven for Storytellers. We protect them as they write our destinies. We offer them the seclusion they need to concentrate their efforts. They make up the Library Council, and they created Idea,” Aliss said as she led the way by the lakeside.

Ringo thumbed his chin in contemplation and nodded. “Seems legit.”

“Ringo…,” Taylor warned, and he shrugged in return.

Corentin blinked at Ringo. “I have to say, I agree with him.”

“But you’re not a Storyteller, right?” Taylor asked, adjusting his grip on Corentin.

Aliss waved her hand over the grass, and an opulent chaise lounge bloomed from the earth. “Rest him here.”

Corentin took the lead, and under his own power, lay back on the green velvet cushions. He gritted his teeth from the pain, and Taylor crouched at his side, but he waved Taylor off. “I’m fine… I’m fine….”

Taylor turned back to Aliss. “If you’re not a Storyteller, then what do you do?”

“The rest of the Library are guardians of the Storytellers. We keep them balanced and monitor their tales. We watch over all Enchants and restore the balance by making a few
edits
, as they say.”

“I assume that means not with a red pen on paper,” Ringo said.

“You kill anyone who upsets the balance,” Taylor accused.

“Kill?” Aliss seemed bewildered by the idea. “Don’t be so simple, Princess Hatfield. We are an organization that defends the Storytellers and keeps the peace of our world. Our enforcement tactics have indeed changed with the time, but that is by no means wrong. The Storytellers must be protected at all costs.”

“But what do you want with us?” Taylor asked. A hazy black trail drifted overhead, pulsing, twirling, zigzagging through the imaginary sky. “What’s that?”

The haze dropped like a scoop of flour between those gathered. Ashen trails puffed around them, and Taylor hid his eyes from the grit. From the blackness, a girl took shape, and the tendrils of ash became her long, tattered coat. She had her attention on Aliss, but Taylor and Corentin hadn’t forgotten her face.

“
You
,” Corentin growled.

The girl startled and retreated behind Aliss. Her sunken eyes rimmed in smudges of kohl emphasized her skittish expression.

“Gabrielle?” Aliss asked and rested her hand on the girl’s narrow shoulder. “She’s one of us.”

“She attacked Corentin two days ago!” Taylor snapped.

Gabrielle shook her head violently and her sloppy bun bounced.

“She was only scared,” Aliss said. “It was all in defense.” She nodded to Corentin. “And she can heal you.”

Gabrielle kept her distance, hunched behind Aliss. She gawked openly at Corentin, but he wasn’t having it.

“She’s Cronespawn, isn’t she?” Corentin asked, then gasped from the pain.

“How do you know?” Taylor asked.

“He just does,” Aliss said with a smile. “You do recognize one another in close proximity. Interesting.” Gabrielle looked up to Aliss, like a child looking for approval. Aliss nodded and gestured to Corentin. “Go on.”

She slipped forward, moving like smoke toward Corentin. He jerked away from her, and she recoiled timidly. “I can… help…,” she said in English, but her voice heavily accented with Curse Word. “Help?” She waited for recognition.