If you have a garden and a library,

you have everything you need.

Marcus Tullius Cicero

── •✧• ──

The warm amber lighting and the smell of old books danced over my senses with a strong offering of honeysuckle and patchouli. The latter I could smell as well as taste it in the back of my throat. Someone tripped a ward in the library. Honeysuckle and patchouli were never that strong on any given day. I pushed aside some of the branches covering the door, and entered the ajar door. Inside, the smell of books and leather became muted in the space.

The shelves reached upward toward the ceiling, spiraling like the staircase that was set in the center of the room. Leaving plenty of room to maneuver inside. There were no windows besides the skylight — enchanted orbs of light enhanced the moon and sunlight. A soft glow lit up all around me from strategic locations along the walls. It wasn't just enough illumination to see by, but also provided an ambiance not found outside of this place. The library inside of the tree was meant to be an enchanted forest of bookshelves.

I followed the scent of honeysuckle and patchouli to the middle of the library, at the base of the winding staircase. Seemingly from all directions, my ears pick up echoes of one voice crying out many different things. No words are legible, but the voice carries with it emotions that speak and translate into a feeling. A rock formed in the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong. All the signs were pointing to danger.

I looked up. There dangled a rope of woven vines in the air, stretching upward from the base of the stairs towards the sky. My gaze followed the vine. I could see the stars through the skylight, and the night seeped into the library through a hole. The source of the howling wind was above me. One mystery surrendered, meanwhile, an overwhelming jackpot of questions sparked by sounds remained to be solved.

I stared at the skylight. The howling wind rushed over me. The sound only enhanced the others. In one spot of the skylight, the glimmer of the ward was fainter than the rest. "Must be the point of entry." Something or someone was in here with me. What could be the source of the voice that cried in the distance? Why did it resonate as something or someone in pain?

Now was the time that I wished I had not ventured out of the party alone. The pit in my stomach boiled, and the inquisition in my mind rumbled with the peace that once existed there. "I should have taken a guard. I should have told someone where I'd be."

Into the orb lit span, I gazed. Fleeting from one edge of the library to the next. Then my head snapped in one direction. The feeling of unease increased. I heard a blood-curdling cry from the inner depths of the library. Not an echo this time. It was happening now. I closed my eyes, reached for Glena and for Xavier, one of the two should be able to sense it. If I sent my discomfort out far enough, if I conveyed my current unease — someone should come running. After all, that's what all my security details were trained to pick up on. They should sense my feelings of unease and possible endangerment.

Whether or not it was a good idea, no muscle in me felt like staying put. With a deep breath in, I went towards the cry, ascending down into the archives of ancient texts within the library. A shiver ran across my skin. Goosebumps rose along every inch of flesh. I felt compelled to move forward. Even though I moved onward, my mind was at war with my actions. No wonder there weren't many people who came near these shelves or knew about them. This was the part of the library I knew about but never visited. Ancient texts that were not for my consumption dwelt there. They were filled with spirits and ghosts from the past.

The cries in the darkness echoed through the aisle. The noise and its accompanying pain were more impactful on my nerves the deeper I went. An odd weight rested on my shoulders. As if there were other presence, like eyes upon each bookshelf. Each case of books dripping with a voiceless warning. "I hear you." I said to my surroundings. My spoken words echoed, crisp and sharper in its delivery than its first utterance.

My stomach was doing somersaults. Again, I closed my eyes to focus. Sending my feelings outward, calling out for aid. "Something is not right here." Those words also came back to me. In its echo it was haunting and malicious.

Ascending into the noise cluttered dark was far easier than it ought to be. For whatever reason, my curiosity outweighed fear. The louder the cries got, the scene before me became more in focus. An elf about my age with a slender build was wrapped in an entanglement of vines, branches, and shadows that glimmered gold under the moonlight.

I sent another blast of information to my guards, hoping what I gave would be helpful and speed their efforts in joining me.

I called out, making my presence known as I got closer. "Who are you?" The intruder part of their identity was obvious to me.

"Is that really what you want to know?" Our words echoed and collided with each other. The first high elves enlisted the echo spell in the library to encourage whispering and quiet solitude.

"Yes. Who are you?" In unison with my echo, I repeated myself.

"I could think of five other far more interesting questions and answers than what you are asking." She squirmed under the hold of the vines. It was then I saw the book. In a labored breath, she spoke to me. "I'm Goldie."

The woman who just declared her name, she was pulled closer to the bookcase. Her bare feet braced against the bookcase as she continued to struggle with the security measures sealed around the book. It was then I insisted. "Goldie, release the book."

"No." She grunted as her grip and the branches became tighter. Goldie slid closer to the bookshelf l. So much so she had to bend her legs. "Why would I do that?"

I stepped closer and reached out my hand. "Hand me the book."

"No. You're horrible at problem solving." Goldie looked back at me over her vine covered shoulder.

"Forget it. Get swallowed by the bookshelf. Wait for my guards to arrive and let them snatch it from your hands."

"Those are your only solutions, really? How are you the heir?" She shouted at me and held firm in her position.

It seemed like her resolve cemented the more I asked her to surrender. Even so, I explained my stance. "Cooperation could make being caught have some leniency."

"Oh gosh, I surrender. You've convinced me to surrender." Goldie rolled her eyes as she held the book tight against her chest with her arms wrapped around it.

"What if you stop fighting? Let go. And see what happens." I crossed my arms in my annoyance.

"Really? Surrender to whatever has possessed your bookshelf? That's not better than putting the book back. It's worse." Goldie shouted at me.

"You need to try something." I gestured to her current predicament. The branches, vines and thorns were stronger than her from my perspective.

"Do I? I'm half intrigued with what will happen if I keep fighting. Magic only lasts for so long. Enchantments eventually fade." Goldie braced her legs against the bookcase. "The question, your highness should be asking is will I get free first or will the guards arrive before I do? Any guesses, wagers on your guard's efficiency?"

I took a few steps forward. "I'd let go of the death book, if I were you."

"Is that what this is called?" Goldie jerked her chin to the book in her grasp.

"No. I don't know, I have never seen that book in my life." It was the truth, I had never heard of a book in the library doing what that book was doing to Goldie. There were other security measures I'd heard of but thorns, branches, and vines was not one of them.

"So. You've inadvertently told me you have come alone. Your guards are not within shouting range. And the book I am holding has some value to it. Intrinsic family heirloom? Everything you're saying is telling me I have the advantage, or a good chance of succeeding."

"I...hand me the book." I rushed forward to reach into the tangled web of vines, thorns, and branches. Each retracted from where I touched the book cover. The echoes of the library became a hollow hum. My heart felt like it was beating in my ears.

I recalled lessons learned, the various protocols. Through the point of entry breached in the ward, it would coat the intruder with a toxin. The intruder would be unconscious within two minutes. It was enough time to get in but not to make their way back out. The woman set on holding the book had seconds left or surpassed the allotted time, if I estimated right. But if she was by chance spellbound, that timer had no relevance in the situation. But the spell reacted to her but not in toxin form?

I held on to the book and the noise of her struggle and the echoes of our conversation were muffled. My outstretched hand, the one grasping the book, became numb. The numbness was traveling up my arm, at the same time my reaction to my surroundings slowed. My vision blurred, and someone called to me.

"Princess?" Goldie was shouting again. "Your highness, let go!"

The smell of the wards sang, whiffing through the air at a heavily denoting the breach and the book that was enchanted to stay upon the shelf. There were notes of another in the room's fragrance, wards, and essences of sound. Then I heard and saw nothing more.