“Most of them will not be there, which will be to our advantage. When we get there, you are going to give them this.”
Dorian reaches into his bag and hands Zachary a book, a different book. Thick and blue and familiar with a drawing embossed in gold on the cover. A bust of Ares.
Zachary turns the book to read the spine even though he knows what it will say. The Age of Fable, or Beauties of Mythology. The library sticker on the spine has been peeled off.
“You took this from the library,” Zachary says, the statement sounding more painfully obvious once he speaks it aloud. “You were there.”
“Correct, ten points to Ravenclaw. Though it wasn’t very clever of you to gather up all those books only to leave them unsupervised because you wanted a muffin.”
“It was a quality muffin,” Zachary defensively snaps in response and to his surprise Dorian laughs, a pleasant, low laugh that makes him feel a little less cold.
“A quality muffin is just a cupcake without frosting,” Dorian remarks before he continues. “You are going to bring this book to them.”
“Won’t they know this isn’t the book they want?” Zachary opens the back cover and finds its barcode is missing as well, the initials JSK written on the paper where it had been.
“The people who have been following you would,” Dorian says. “But they’ve been distracted. Those they left to babysit their collection will be the low-ranking sort, not high enough to be privy to details about which book it is exactly that anyone is looking for. You will give them this one, you will retrieve another for me, and I will give this back to you.”
He holds up Sweet Sorrows again and Zachary thinks a second too late that he could grab it and run. His hands are too cold to take out of his pockets. This man, whatever his actual name is, could probably outrun him, too.
“Does all this book-juggling serve a purpose?” Zachary asks.
Dorian slides Sweet Sorrows back into his coat.
“You help me with this book-juggling, as you call it, and I will get you there.”
Zachary doesn’t need him to clarify where “there” is but he also doesn’t know what to say. A blinking neon light catches the snow in the gutter in front of them, shifting it from grey to red to grey again.
&nbs
p; “It’s real,” Zachary says, not quite a question.
“Of course it’s real,” Dorian says. “You know that. You feel it down to your toes or you wouldn’t be here.”
“Is it—” Zachary starts but then he cannot finish the question. Is it the way it is in the book? He aches to know but he also suspects real places are never properly captured in words. There is always more.
“You will not get there without my help,” Dorian continues as they pause at a red-handed crosswalk despite the lack of traffic. “Not unless you have an arrangement with Mirabel that I am unaware of.”
“Who’s Mirabel?” Zachary asks as they begin to walk again.
Dorian stops in the middle of the street and turns to Zachary and stares at him, a questioning stare topped by skeptical eyebrows.
“What?” Zachary asks after the pause goes on long enough to make him uncomfortable, glancing both ways for taxis.
“You don’t…” Dorian starts but then stops again. The skeptical eyebrows lower into an expression that looks more like concern but then he turns and keeps walking. “We don’t have time for this, we’re almost there. I’m going to need you to listen very carefully and follow instructions.”
“No improvising?” Zachary asks, a little more sharply than he intended to.
“Not unless you have no other options. No lending pens to anyone, either, if you were wondering about the tracking device. You are going to tell whoever answers the door that you have a drop-off for the archive. Show them the book but do not let it out of your hands. If they do not allow you entry immediately say that Alex sent you.”
“Who’s Alex?”
“Not a who, Alex is a code. You are going to wear this and make certain that they see it but do not draw attention to it, it’s an older style than they wear currently but it’s the best I could do.”
Dorian hands him a piece of metal on a long chain. A silver sword.
“You will be led through a hall and up a flight of stairs to another hall with several locked doors. A room will be unlocked for you. At approximately this time the doorbell will ring. Your escort will need to attend to it. Assure your escort that you can handle the book drop yourself and you will see yourself out the back, this is customary and will not seem odd. Your escort will depart.”
“How can you be sure?” Zachary asks, pulling the chain over his head as they make another turn. The streets around them are more residential, dotted with trees and occasional corner stores and restaurants.