Apprentice (Into the After Book 1) Read online

  Apprentice

  Into the After, Book One

  Patricia Thomas

  Copyright © 2017 by Patricia Thomas

  http://lifeintheafter.com/

  All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction.

  Any portion thereof may not be reproduced or use

  in any manner without the express written permission

  of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations

  in a book review.

  Cover design by KatZilla Designs

  Edited by A Fading Street - with assistance from Stephanie Winter

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Apprentice

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Read Chapter One of Into the After right now!

  Welcome to the After.

  Please remain calm.

  The Archive of Ink and Soul

  After the End

  Inner Sanctum (April, 2017)

  Into the After

  Apprentice

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  Chapter 1

  I’d been asleep for five hours, but the moment the train pulled into Hemingway Station, I was wide awake. Not exactly the product of good timing so much as magic, but I would take what I could get.

  When I’d boarded the train from Summerset to embark on the first leg of my trip, I’d been determined to use my distraction-free train time productively and do the things I hadn’t got done at home. But leaving that same home for a new city and a whole new career had been more distracting than I’d expected, and I hadn’t been able to focus on anything at all.

  When I’d left New York for the third and final leg of my trip, all I’d wanted was a good night’s sleep. Before the train had even pulled away from Grand Central, I’d purchased the spelled salve, enchanted so once I rubbed it on my temples, it knocked me out until the moment I reached my destination.

  In the seats around me, a few other people seemed to be coming out of similar extended naps, each looking as disoriented as I felt. But there was no time for sympathetic smiles between fellow passengers because others were already up and out of their seats, getting organized so they could disembark as soon as the doors opened.

  Which meant I was going to have to do the same.

  Not quite ready to stand up, I took a few slow breaths as my new reality sank in. The train was already inside the station, but just outside the concrete walls I could see from my window was the city of Sanctum, capital city of the Western Realms of the After. It was a place I’d heard about for years both because of the wonders it held and the disorganized chaos that seemed to hold the city together. And, now, I was about to be a part of that same system as an apprentice librarian, something that wasn’t supposed to be possible.

  The train doors opened, and immediately the people around me rushed for the doors. I made myself as small as possible so my seatmates could slip out of our area and promised myself that, as soon as they were out of the way, I’d stop procrastinating and get out of my chair. I couldn’t let my nerves overwhelm my excitement.

  This is what I wanted, I reminded myself. Sanctum, becoming a librarian, all it. I gave up everything I’d built for myself since first arriving in the After so I could move here and pledge myself to the Archive of Ink and Soul.

  Now, all that was left was to get up, get my bag, and face my new life head on. I was ready, and every second I sat around in the quickly emptying train was one I didn’t get to spend at my dream job.

  I stood up, grinning at myself and probably looking like a moron, but there was no one around left to see.

  Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I exited onto the platform, the last person in my car, and right away, people getting organized or oriented surrounded me. It was a little after eight at night, but apparently, time of day didn’t matter so much when it came to the central station for the world’s largest city.

  I joined the flow of people heading away from my platform and followed them down the steps that led to the central lobby. I’d read everything about Hemingway Station, including every neighborhood, major landmark, and hidden gem in the city, before I’d arrived.

  As soon as my shoes hit the marble floor of the lobby, I started scanning for the grouping of floating sign-posts that are supposedly easy to find in the middle of the four-story room where I should be meeting the other apprentice librarians who had arrived in the last two-hours as well as our escort to the Archive.

  I found it easier than I’d hoped. Two dozen street signs hovered in the air, ten feet over the tallest person in the room, each one listing off a few different places, with arrows pointing in various directions. There were nearly a hundred people milling about in the space between where I was and where I needed to be, but a few quiet ‘excuse me’s’ and well-placed elbows parted the crowd quickly enough. After dodging around a garbage bin, I almost tripped over the carry-on luggage of a seven-foot-tall man with pointed ears and skin that seemed like tree bark. Thankfully, he didn’t even notice me, and once I regained my balance, I was back on my way.

  As I approached the space underneath the street signs, I quickly made out three others already standing beneath it, huddled in a group, seemingly chatting, but each person was looking uncomfortably around the room, deliberately not making eye contact with the others for too long.

  Even though there was no sign of anyone in the telltale white librarian robes, I felt safe in my assumption that this was the group I was looking for.

  “Hey,” I said, trying to sound confident as I approached. “Are you guys—”

  “Librarians,” the twenty-something guy on my left said before I could finish my sentence, puffing his chest up a little. He stood a little taller than six feet, with brown skin and black hair. His body seemed to be radiating with both pride and excitement, something I wasn’t sure I could fault him for.

  “Great. Me too,” I said before putting my bag down at my feet.

  “I’m Gennie,” the only other girl of the group said, extending her hand toward me.

  I smiled gratefully as I shook it, taking in everything about her without trying to look too intense.

  With warm-toned brown hair and a pale complexion that was nearly opposite my own dark skin, Gennie was undeniably gorgeous. She was what my old next-door neighbor would have described as ‘a girl who enjoys her chocolates’, but despite being several sizes bigger than your typical supermodel, she still could have passed for one.

  Gennie looked several years younger than my twenty-seven-ish, though in the After, looks didn’t count for much. She could have been three hundred for all I could tell. And, while some librarians apparently pledged themselves to the Archive right after graduating college, already sure of their dedication, it was just as likely to see other apprentices my age or older, who had already lived full lives before deciding to dedicate their remaining years to serving the Archive.

  Before any other introductions were possible, a clock above us chimed the hour. Nine p.m.—the exact time to meet with the representative the Archive should hav
e sent to collect us.

  The others, who were all facing me, still making small talk one second, seemed to turn away from me as one in the next. I realized I was holding my breath as I moved to see what they were looking at, and an anxious huff of breath escaped my lips.

  Sure enough, striding toward us, right on time, was a dark-haired man with broad shoulders and dark eyes. He wore the robes I’d been watching for—white with lines of tiny black text covering the fabric, which left the design looking more like gray smudges.

  “Good evening,” the man said as soon as he was within earshot of our group. He looked to be a bit younger than I was, but he spoke with the confidence of someone far wiser. “I’m going to go ahead and assume that the four of you are Vincent Goldin, Tari Maiz, Gennie Flynn, and Fredrick Young.”

  I nodded and stood up a little straighter, my heart already beating wildly in my chest, as the younger guy beside me shoved his hand forward.

  “I’m Vincent, or Vince.”

  The librarian shook Vince’s hand without any real enthusiasm before turning back to the rest of us. “I am Protectorate Avos. I am a member of the Protectorate at the Archive, and it looks like I’ll be your escort this evening. You’re the last group to get into the city, so we should probably get going.”

  Right away, the Protectorate turned his back to lead us out, which forced me to speak up.

  “Wait!” I squeaked out, heat rising to my cheeks as everyone spun to look at me. “I checked my bag. I still need to go get it before we leave.”

  Vince was already looking at me like I was an idiot as I realized that no one else had any luggage bigger than a carry-on.

  But the Archive’s representative offered me a kind smile. “Don’t worry. Your bags will have all been marked when you got on the train, so they’ll be waiting for you in your rooms once we’re done with the welcome festivities tonight.”

  “Oh. Okay. Thanks,” I mumbled, not sure what else to say and mostly hoping to get everyone’s eyes off me.

  Protectorate Avos had already hinted that we were in a hurry, and I had turned myself into the person holding everyone up.

  Thankfully, Protectorate Avos didn’t wait any longer to get back on track, and I had to force myself to keep up as he expertly wove his way back through the crowds in the train station. Catching my eye, Gennie gave me a quick grin right as the five of us stepped out into the chilly evening air, which forced a nervous giggle past my lips. This was really happening!

  A few short buildings in varying styles stood across from the main entrance to the station, and in the light of the streetlamps above us, it was easy to make out the cityscape beyond.

  All at once, the nerves I'd been feeling seemed to disappear. I was in Sanctum, arguably the greatest city in the After. I'd studied it, read about it, even tried to memorize its streets, but being there myself was an entirely new experience. And one I could get used to.

  Protectorate Avos didn't wait for the four of us to gain our bearings and soon turned down a busy street that ran along the north side of the train station. I'd been half expecting a car to be waiting to take us to the Archive, but it looked like we were walking.

  From what I could remember, the Archive itself was close by to Hemingway Station, but it would still be at least a twenty-minute walk, and I found myself wishing I'd thought to wear my coat rather than having shoved it into the bigger of my two suitcases.

  A man bumped my shoulder, not bothering to even mutter an apology before pushing past me on the sidewalk to go in the opposite direction. But I didn't mind in the slightest. Before I’d moved to Summerset, my life in the After had mostly involved living in the Soaring City—which, while not as big as Sanctum, sometimes felt like it held nearly as many people. And I had never minded being in a crowd.

  The publication of hundreds or maybe even thousands of science fiction books created The Soaring City, and it held all the most incredible technology in the After. At least according to the people who lived there, though there were certainly places elsewhere on the mainland that would argue something similar. But, for people like me, people who had come from books set in the future or whose technology was barely even possible, it felt like the closest thing to home.

  But I could see Sanctum becoming my new home quickly. I certainly felt more at ease in the hectic city streets than I ever had in quiet, suburban Summerset. At least, here, people knew to leave their neighbors alone and not to dig too deep into other people's business. In Summerset, I'd always been looking over my shoulder, worrying about who was asking too many questions or getting too curious about what my life had been before.

  I didn't imagine that my paranoia was going to get any more manageable now that I would be working in the Archive, studying among librarians for the next four years, then working there hopefully for the rest of my life, but that was a price I had volunteered to pay.

  It was only once I realized that the Protectorate was holding a door open for the four of us that I slowed down. It was heavy, the color of oak, with a stained-glass window in its top center panel. The Protectorate had also pressed the door up against a brick wall that seemed to belong to somebody's home, though the building's front door was plain to see and not the one I was walking into. As I went through, all I could see was black, but my research had prepared me for what was coming. This was one of Sanctum's many passageways, hidden doorways—or sometimes not so hidden—that could quickly take pedestrians from one section of the city to another. Like magic, because it was magic.

  Even after living in the After for nearly twenty years, I still sometimes found myself caught up in the wonder of magic. Sure, many people would argue that the spacefaring and impossible technology of the universe I'd come from was enough like magic that the distinction didn't count, but in my life before, every impossible thing had some explanation, even if I didn’t understand it. Here, sometimes an explanation of magic was all there was.

  Passing through the other side of the door, just behind Vince, I exited onto yet another sidewalk. We were standing in front of a row of tiny houses that were distinct in their Japanese architecture. In a completely different part of the city. I hadn't thought to account for these passageways when I'd mapped out the walking distance between the train station and the Archive before I’d arrived. But, because none of the books, newspapers, or magazines I had been able to get my hands on had given hints of where most of the city’s passageways were, it's not like planning that ahead of time would have helped me at all. Unfortunately, sometimes, planning could only get you so far. And, while I wasn't a big fan of leaving too much up to chance, there wasn't much more I could do.

  Applying to become a librarian and arranging my move to Sanctum, had taken years of study and preparation. And I knew I was as ready as I could be.

  That was going to have to be enough.

  Then I saw it. Still in the distance, but maybe only a few blocks away. White stone walls, with the occasional brick in a vibrant jewel tone, reached several stories over the houses that stretched out nearby. Each corner of the building had a tower a few stories higher, seemingly stretching up to touch the sky.

  I'd seen pictures, but the reality was so much more than I'd been able to imagine.

  The Archive.

  In my life before, I'd never have been able to believe that a place like this could really exist. A world made up entirely of characters from stories and their children and their children's children. A world shaped by every genre or type of storytelling that had ever made an impact on humanity. And a city at the center of it all, or at least the center of the world I knew. Sanctum was an amalgamation of so many different stories, landscapes, and cultures. And the Archive was its heart, at least in this part of the world.

  And I was looking right at it.

  I had known that it would be beautiful, but just how much it moved me came as a big surprise

  "Tari, right?” Gennie asked, nudging me with her shoulder and drawing my attention back to where I was.


  I nodded.

  "We’ve gotta go," she said, cocking her head toward the guys, who were now nearly half a block ahead of us, though Protectorate Avos had his head turned over his shoulder to make sure we didn't fall too far behind.

  "Got lost in thought for a second there," I explained, forcing my feet to start moving again.

  "I know that feeling. This is all still a little surreal for me. I wasn't sure I'd get in, and now, here I am."

  Gennie and I walked in silence for the next few blocks, taking long strides to catch up with everybody else. My brain couldn't seem to cope with how much closer I was getting to the Archive with every step I took, and I couldn’t make decent conversation at the same time. Conversation could wait. All I wanted was to reach the Archive.

  We turned the corner, and all at once, the building took up my entire field of vision, stretching across several blocks. I had to remind myself to start breathing again.

  Glass doors lined a large section of the front of the Archive, and an entire flight of white stone stairs led up to the entryway from the street. I wanted a second to take it all in, but Protectorate Avos was already climbing the steps, moving at a pace that had to be hard to maintain for a long period. I made myself take another step, climbing the stairs with Gennie, trying to keep my balance as I stared up at the building looming over me in all its glory.

  This was really happening.

  Chapter 2

  I had certainly done my research on the Archive before my arrival in Sanctum.

  The Archive was technically a library, open to the public, but also served as a sanctuary for every book published whose characters simultaneously arrived in the After once their stories ended. There were Archives in the North, South and East as well that functioned in the same way, though the buildings themselves each had a distinct look.

  Each completed story arrives in the basement of the Archive to await sorting and shelving, while its characters wake up elsewhere in the After, in whichever place would feel most like home for them as they reacclimate and start their new lives. From there, they could get jobs, start families, move to a different part of the world entirely... essentially, do whatever they wanted. But their book would always be there, in the Archive, fueling the After itself with new ideas and the power of stories.