Valkyrie of Desire

34. Colors Collide

Hair from skin from muscles from bones

Pulled, peeled, and stripped down to my soul

A jabberwaki consumes flesh

And leaves behind only a ghost

I haunt this spot reliving death

Nothing is what I want the most

—Nameless "Jerry" Faceless

Hildr pounds on the exit. The hardwood door shivers under her fists, but does not open. Her bronze lantern flickers on the floor next to tiny Meepsin, still sleeping. Ruse floats at her shoulder, weaving his webbed fingers as if to music only his frog-like head can hear.

She swipes her hand through the beebo spirit. "Ruse, go through and tell Agro to open this door."

"The sunlight—"

"Won't touch you if you stay in this library's shadow."

Ruse floats to the door and phases his head through.

What if Agro went home early? If she is trapped here overnight will Pam leave too? Hildr chews her lip. Too many things are up in the air. Disappearing now could spoil all the progress she has made today.

The beebo spirit jerks and dissipates, becoming a glowing mist that flows between her legs.

"Ruse, why—"

With a viper's speed, his cloud swirls and flies into her butt.

Hildr hisses as the spirit's clammy form cramps her gut. This is the deal they made. She breathes deep. Her butt is his receptacle. In and out. In and out. Long, deep breaths ease her away from fire-starting frustration.

Crossing her legs on the floor, she turns the lantern down to conserve fuel and rubs her arms. Riverside and street-side, there are no other obvious exits. She scratches the scar on her chin. Perhaps underground through the ruins Ruse mentioned. He said she did not have the strength to get to the golem, but maybe there is a way out that is not blocked. After all the hardships of her prostituted life, she is not above swimming through a sewage drain to survive.

She huffs and gathers up her brownie servant and lantern. The library is big but not designed to be a maze. How hard can finding stairs down be?

The air is clear. Every hall and room is clean. Even the books and scrolls are dust free. Hildr nods. If nothing else, Ruse as a servant will be better than Meepsin at dusting.

She turns only left, weaving in and out of rooms big and small. A few doors stay closed, locked and firm against her strength. Nearing the end of her loop, voices echo.

Men. Many. Metal clinking.

Hildr blows out her lantern and leans against the wall. She is in a side hallway. She backs up, feeling her way into a long room. It is dim, but there is light here, coming from portal-style windows close to the high ceiling.

She jogs to the outer wall and frowns. Even if she piled enough books to climb up there, the windows are only big enough for her head and have thick foggy glass.

Diffused lantern light comes from the doorway, and a chill travels up Hildr's spine. Who are they? She puts the lantern on an empty part of a book shelf and drops to her belly. As is typical with libraries, there is space for larger books to lie flat on the floor. Caution serves wisdom. She holds Meepsin to her side and slides under the shelf, squeezing in like an oversized atlas.

Dust stirs, and she pinches her nose to kill a sneeze. The beebo's wind magic missed a spot.

Light brightens and a man says, "More books in here. Maybe—"