Slide sixty-three: “Shadow Resources: Yours to Discover”
Keith’s presentation has been running for three hours. Several shadow creatures outside are pressed against the windows, taking notes. Carl holds up helpful signs: “NEXT SLIDE,” “PAUSE FOR EFFECT.”
“Is it just me or are the shadows more... solid?” I ask Stenrik, who has not moved from his position reinforcing the barriers.
“They’re becoming more corporeal as the barrier thins,” he confirms. “Keith mentioned feeling ‘more substantial than ever.’”
“Keith has never felt more corporeal!” Keith calls out without looking away from his screen. “Keith’s mass has increased by twelve percent!”
I tilt my head, studying Keith. The PowerPoint. The name tag. The entire business seminar aesthetic. “Wait. Corporeal or corporate? Did they—no. That’s ridiculous. Nobody gets that confused.”
Stenrik’s ear twitches. “The Marriott incident of 1994 is not well documented.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I am not discussing this.”
I stand and stretch, my back popping in three places. “Time for a brain break. Come on. We need to talk.”
Stenrik looks relieved to be pulled away from the presentation as we make it back to the reference section. I place the Chronicle on the desk, where it glows faintly. Mister Poofypants the Third drapes himself across it, his bulk covering most of the symbols.
“We should probably discuss the actual ritual,” I say. “You know, the permanent thing that’s going to bind us forever?”
“We should.”
“So. Synchronization. How does that actually work?”
“We must align completely. Breathing, heartbeat, even our magical resonance.” He picks up the Chronicle, displacing the cat, who makes a sound of pure outrage.
“I don’t have magical resonance.”
“You do now. The Chronicle marked you.” He opens the book, and the symbols seem to pulse. “Here. Your name has been added to the registry.”
I lean closer to look. Sure enough, there’s my name in glowing silver script: “Rianne Martinez, Librarian, Unprepared but Willing.”
“Unprepared but willing? That’s what it says?”
“The Chronicle is... honest.”
“The Chronicle is rude.” I grab a pen, ready to edit, and a spark jumps from the page to my finger. “Ow!”
“You should not try to change it.”
“You could have mentioned that before I started it.”
“I assumed it was obvious.”
“Nothing about this is obvious!” I wave my hand, trying to shake off the tingling. “I’m a librarian! The most magical thing I usually deal with is finding where teenagers hid the romance novels!”
“Where do they hide them?”
“Behind the encyclopedias that no one uses anymore.” I sit on the edge of the desk. “So we just... breathe together and save the world?”
“Essentially.” His ear twitches.
“You’re lying again.”
“I am simplifying.”
