FOOLS & SAGES I FLYNN CARSEN

A Meeting of Minds

A Meeting of Minds

Heaven only knows where the stories are going to stop...

"Clara Hartley!"

Clara started violently at the sound of her name, looking around her in bewilderment, Flynn doing the same, completely clueless.

"Clara Hartley, get your English ass in here!"

"I think they're talking to you," Flynn said, making the obvious even more obvious, wincing at the sheer volume of the voice.

"You – you wait here," Clara said hastily, sensing a spanner named Charlene in the works, "don't go anywhere until I come back."

Flynn nodded, Clara nodding back, before nervously approaching the interview room, not exactly overjoyed at the prospect of facing Charlene again. She entered an imposing entrance hall that looked like the bastard offspring of Versailles and the set of an Adam Ant music video, only to see Charlene sitting behind a seventeenth century French walnut four column refectory table, her hands folded in front of her, overplucked eyebrows raised questioningly in Clara's direction.

"Hello," Clara said, approaching Charlene like she would a wild animal, "I - I think there's been an error" -

- "Clara Hartley is a seventeen year old schoolgirl," Charlene snapped, glancing down at the sheave of parchment on the table, "yet here you stand before me at the height of your womanhood. What's the story, sweetheart?"

But before Clara could frame a suitable answer, the doors suddenly slammed shut behind her, a breeze shooting through the room, rippling the red velvet curtains and Clara's hair. The chair set out for her span to the other side of the room, finding its final place in front of a wood-panelled wall, the sheave of parchment disappearing in a puff of smoke, making Charlene start violently.

"What the devil..." Charlene breathed, before hastily smoothing down her hair, and surveying Clara over steepled fingers. "Well, it looks like the Library has chosen," she said, looking insulted at the idea, "you're our new Librarian, Clara Hartley."

~*~

"I'm not the Librarian," Clara said, wringing her hands, "I mean, I am a Librarian, or I was, but I'm not the Librarian."

"We only have one Librarian at a time," Charlene said, standing up, "and now that happens to be you."

"You don't understand," Clara snapped, struggling to keep calm, "the Librarian is out there!" She jabbed a manicured finger in the direction of the doors, making Charlene roll her eyes at Clara's histrionics.

"The Librarian is standing right in front of me," Charlene snapped back, snatching up her handbag, "now hop to it, kid - it's been a long day and we have a lot of work to do."

"I want to speak to Judson," Clara demanded, clutching at straws, startling Charlene, "he'll understand even if you don't."

"Will I?" Judson said, walking through a wall.

Heart beating like a bongo drum, Clara just stood there, staring at him, before suddenly launching herself into his arms, throwing her own around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck.

"You know a simple hello would have sufficed," Judson said gently, detaching himself with some difficulty, "I'm not above the humble greeting."

"I'm not the Librarian," Clara said in a rush, her eyes wild, "Flynn Carsen is the Librarian" -

- "I know," Judson said, startling her this time, "but the Library seems to have chosen you."

"It's not time yet!" Clara yelled up at the ceiling. "You're too early! Ten years early to be precise!"