City of Magic (Happily Ever Afterlife Book 1) Read online

  I went back and forth a few times on whether to shower right away or in the morning, but I didn't want to risk being woken up with no warning, still looking like I’d crawled out of a dumpster.

  Having hot water rush over my body was a glorious experience. Thoughts and memories kept trying to creep up on me, reminding me of everything I'd been through, but I pushed them back repeatedly. Absolutely everything was out of my control, and I just needed time to rest and regroup.

  It wasn’t long before I crawled into bed and was fast asleep.

  Waking up, I was immediately assaulted by a rush of memories and confusion. It felt like I'd slept for a long time, which was potentially great news, but if I'd been asleep for well over eight hours, how come no one had come for me yet? I slipped back into my clothes and then took a few minutes in the washroom to freshen up all over again, still not feeling entirely clean.

  Ready as I was ever going to be, I knocked on the door to my own room, hoping someone would answer from the other side.

  Nobody came.

  I was still stuck there, essentially a prisoner. No, literally a prisoner.

  Letting out a low groan of frustration, I walked away from the door, completely out of ideas. No one I’d met the night before had hinted that their plan had simply been to lock me up and throw away the key, but it was hard to feel even a hint of optimism.

  "Urrgghhhh!" Before I knew what I was doing, my feet were carrying me back to the door. I banged my fist against the frame several times, shouting incoherently as frustration poured out of me. It didn’t do much to make me feel better, but at least I was doing something.

  And then someone knocked back. Except, the noise wasn’t coming from the door. I tempered down my outrage, listening. Nothing.

  With a few quick raps of my knuckles, I knocked on the door again. This time, the response came right away. Someone was knocking on a wall of my room.

  The sound came again, and I did my best to follow it to the exact spot where someone was trying to get in touch with me from the other side of the wall. I knocked a few times, trying to tap out a catchy beat. Yes, sometimes my priorities could be off.

  "Hello," a muffled voice came through the wall.

  "Hi," I answered, likely sounding a little overexcited. I wasn't sure how loudly I needed to speak to be heard through drywall.

  "Do you work here? Any chance you could let me out?"

  "No luck. I'm stuck too. Were you brought in yesterday?"

  The voice came through more clearly this time, and there was no question that its owner was a guy, one with a bit of a southern accent. "Yeah, long story but I'm pretty sure I've been trapped in this room for almost a day now. They brought me food a couple times but won’t answer my questions. Or you know, let me go."

  "I know that feeling. I’m Kadie," I volunteered.

  "Devon. And it's nice to meet you because the guy at the other end of my room, Marc, has been a bit of a dick so far. Not exactly helpful, or chatty."

  I groaned loud enough for Devon to hopefully hear me from the other side of the wall. "Don't you hate when your fellow hostages aren't the friendly, chatty types?"

  "You know what, it happens to me all the time. Plus, as a bonus, I’m pretty sure I’m being mocked by all of this taupe wallpaper."

  I chuckled, grateful for the distraction. The fact that I was glad to have someone else stuck with me wouldn’t win me any humanitarian awards any time soon, but I’d take the company all the same.

  I shifted so my back was leaning against the wall, head tilted up slightly to stare at the white ceiling and a generic-looking light fixture, making myself remember where I was. This wasn't the time to get complacent just because I had someone to talk to. I was still a prisoner in some strange building. A fate I was convinced I’d volunteered myself for.

  "Devon. Question: I wish I could say this was the weirdest thing that has crossed my mind recently, but you’re on board with this whole ‘we’re all book characters’ thing, right?"

  "I guess."

  "Any chance you came from some sort of super thriller where you have epic skills that might help us escape?" It was a long shot, but I figured it was at least worth asking. I’d seen some strange things the day before and knew it was entirely possible that I could run into someone with the exact skills I needed and never know it. If he did have some sort of ability and I didn't ask, I'd feel like a moron for a very long time.

  "No luck. I'm just a university student from Texas. How about you?"

  "Yoga instructor from Pennsylvania. I’ve learned pretty quickly that my list of useful skills is too damn short."

  "Well, that's not that helpful. And I don't know about you, but my room doesn’t even have a window I can try to jimmy open."

  "Same here. No windows, just two doors. One to the bathroom, and one I couldn't open if my life depended on it." And for all I knew, it did.

  "What about the other side of your room?" Devon asked. "Try knocking on the wall over there and see if anyone else answers. I mean, we're probably still not going to get a jewel thief, but who knows."

  I briefly remembered my conversation with Eliza the night before and how she'd mentioned that there had only been two other people like me who came in, but I'd been tired enough that I wasn't going to trust my own memory. I went across the room and knocked. Immediately, I felt the difference in the wall, far thicker than the one I shared with Devon. There wasn't another room on the other side.

  "No one there. I think my room might be at the end of the hallway, so there wouldn't be a room there anyway."

  "You don't remember if you're at the end of the hallway?"

  "Hey, it was really late when I came in. And before you go judging me, shouldn't you remember whether you were the second to last room in the hall?"

  "Fair point. I just…"

  "I get it. It's safe to say that yesterday was the strangest day of my life. Or even of my new life, because I can't imagine anything else happening here that would be as bizarre as what I went through yesterday." At least, I hoped not. I couldn't afford to lose anyone else. Hell, I didn't have anyone else to lose. Off the top of my head, I knew a grand total of seven other people's names in the After.

  "Okay, so we’re on our own. But that doesn't mean we just sit around here and wait." Devon's voice came through calm and reassuring. "Is there anything in your room that might be small enough to use to maneuver the lock on our doors open?"

  "Is that something you know how to do?"

  "No, but I've seen it done in the movies a lot. And the way I'm looking at it is a lot of the movies I watched were based on books, and even the ones that weren't, were influenced by them. In the movies, people can pick locks all the time no matter how much actual experience they have. So, if this place is based on stories, then maybe we can pull off a miracle."

  "And then what?"

  "That is a very good question. But let's go one step at a time on this one, shall we?"

  "Fair enough. So, just look around for small things and then go for it?"

  "It's the best plan I’ve got."

  I spent the next few minutes searching every corner of my room for anything that was either small and metal, or something I could break apart to become the same. But honestly, it was more a way to distract myself than anything else. Not only did neither Devon nor I have a chance in hell of picking the lock and escaping, but neither one of us had anywhere to go. Even if we somehow managed to find our way back out of the library, that would put me right back to where I was yesterday. No answers, no friends, no food, and no money beyond what Grayson had handed me, which I wasn’t exactly sure I could keep.

  I didn't really want to go anywhere, but I also didn't want to stay locked up. So, I searched. I searched until I was certain that apart from shattering the mirror in the bathroom to try to use a tiny glass shard, I was completely out of options.

  I was more than ready to admit defeat. And kind of hopeful that Devon would continue to keep me company until
something new happened, just so I wouldn't have to be alone with my thoughts anymore.

  No Darren. No parents. No Harper. Nothing.

  I tapped on the wall in the same spot where Devon and I had been speaking. There was no answer for a few seconds, so I knocked again. I'd been thorough in my search of the sparsely decorated room and couldn't imagine that Devon's hunt would take much longer. I waited for a minute and then knocked again more enthusiastically, sure there was no way he wasn't hearing me. But he still didn't answer.

  I pressed my ear close to the wall and listened for the sound of his voice but only got a gentle hum. It could have been something going on nearby, but I couldn't guarantee it was coming from Devon's room or even this floor. This building was probably ancient, and kind of strange, so I wasn't about to bet anything on what I was seeing or hearing.

  I knocked one last time before flopping backwards onto my bed. He was gone. And I almost had to wonder if I'd imagined him in the first place, desperate not to be alone anymore. My heart felt heavy in my chest, and I was tired all over again like I hadn't just slept for several hours. And really, who could say how long I'd slept? With no windows, I was only going on my own feelings, and with everything I’d been through, those were as upside down as everything else.

  I reached up over my head, intending to grab a pillow and press it over my face so I could scream out my frustrations in false privacy. But as soon as my fingers grasped around a cotton pillowcase, I heard a faint tapping from somewhere nearby.

  I sat up, and right away it was clear that the sound wasn’t coming from where I'd been talking to Devon. It wasn't coming from the wall at all. Someone was knocking at my door, and a second later I heard a lock snapping open.

  They were coming for me, whoever they were. And I had no idea if that was a good thing or not.

  I scrambled up and ran a hand over my hair in the process. At least I'd showered the night before, not that I would consider how I looked even remotely presentable. But it would have to do.

  The door swung open slowly, as though the person opening it was waiting to see if I would react badly. But I stood and waited, not wanting to do anything at all that could make the wrong impression.

  It was Eliza's face I found on the other side of the door, smiling at me. "Good morning," she called into the room, voice teasing. "I hear you were planning a great escape."

  I blushed a little, but before I could answer I caught sight of two figures standing behind Eliza, both taller than she was and unmistakably masculine. Had they sent armed guards to wrestle me into submission?

  While both men behind Eliza were tall, neither one of them wore the white robes she did. Besides their height, they looked almost nothing alike. The taller of the two had short black hair, and dark eyes that glowered at me. To my eye, he was undeniably Asian, but I reminded myself not to make any assumptions. For all I knew, he came from a fantasy world or a human colony on Mars.

  The other guy looked much more approachable, smiling at me already. He had shaggy brown hair and green eyes that seemed to reflect laughter coming from deep within. Everything about him screamed surfer. I’d never seen either one of them before, but there was something oddly familiar about the latter of the two.

  "Devon?" I asked, smiling because I was confident I’d guessed right.

  "Kadie," he answered back, tipping his head slightly as though playing with an imaginary cowboy hat. "It seems as though our plan has worked brilliantly. They've set us free, and without us having to do any work at all." A moment later, he was laughing maniacally, the sound the pinnacle of an evil supervillain laugh.

  Seconds later, both Eliza and I were almost doubled over laughing along with him, though the noises we made sounded at least a little more natural.

  The other guy had taken a step back from Devon, and as I looked up I could have sworn I saw him roll his eyes.

  Note to self: pretty safe bet on which of these guys I don’t want to bother being friends with.

  Once we’d caught our breath, Eliza ushered me out of my room and into the hall.

  "Alright, you all have everything you need?" she asked. "I’m not sure if you’ll be back here again until the end of the day."

  I looked over at Devon who just shrugged. "That would probably be a no," I answered. "But I’ve got everything I own on me right now, so that’s about as good as it’s getting."

  Eliza winced. "Right, sorry. Well, off we go all the same, right?"

  Devon gave a thumbs-up while I shook my head, both amused and perplexed. It was going to be an interesting day, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "On our left, we have the main lobby. The front entry to the Archive is on Cuthbert Street, but there’s a secondary door on the other end of the building as well." Eliza led the three of us past the stairwell overlooking the front of the building where I’d first entered the Archive with Grayson the night before. Our rooms were on the third floor, and a quick look upward promised that we weren’t even halfway up the building.

  The promise of books, books and more books was even more overwhelming in the daylight, and based on how big the Archive looked from outside, it would be all too easy to get lost in the vast labyrinth of shelves this place held.

  "Fantastic," Marc said from somewhere behind me, his voice completely deadpan. "And I’m all for getting a tour of the building rather than being locked up like hostages. But when are we getting out of here?"

  Eliza stopped walking and whirled back toward us in an instant, her eyes locking onto Marc’s as they narrowed. The two of them stared one another down for a few seconds before she finally spoke. "Look, buddy. I told you this when you first got out of your room and nothing has changed since. You’re not a prisoner here…"

  "Then let me go."

  "That’s not my call. People who know far more about what’s going on than I do seem to think it’s particularly important that you stay in the Archive. At least for now. And since, from what I’ve heard, you just about got yourself killed out on your own yesterday, there is no reason you can’t be at least a little more cooperative. Enjoy the tour, we’ll grab some lunch. Make this easier on all of us."

  Marc opened his mouth to argue, but shut it right away.

  I wasn’t even sure what outcome I was rooting for. Grayson had warned me that coming back here with him would have consequences, but there was no longer any question that I didn’t have as much freedom as I had a day ago. Hopefully, the added security would be worth it.

  Eliza nodded, apparently satisfied by Marc's silence. "The councilors are taking the morning to come up with a plan, or at least a plan to help them make a plan. I don't know. You’ll know more about what’s next by this afternoon."

  I was willing to play a game of wait and see, and from Marc’s sullen silence I could guess he was opting to do the same, at least for the time being.

  The quiet that followed us as we passed by the central stairwell and between two long rows of bookshelves was nothing if not awkward. For a full minute, no one said a word and I let my eyes wander to the spines of the books surrounding me. I only caught a few titles here and there, and not one of them I recognized.

  I had never been an especially great reader but had tried to pick up a few titles beyond those I'd been assigned in school. Still, here I felt woefully outmatched. And still, it was fascinating, seeing all these books in one place and realizing that they meant so much more than I'd ever realized. Of course, I hadn't had any chance of taking in just how necessary books were to my existence back in my old life, and now it felt impossible to truly appreciate everything they'd given me.

  "Are the books here organized by genre?" Devon asked, his fingers trailing over several books as he walked, finally breaking the silence. "Is it a Dewey Decimal kind of thing?"

  Eliza chuckled but didn't slow. "Good old Dewey didn't exactly have a system like ours in mind when he started organizing libraries back in the day. He was a lot less concerned with fictio
n than we are, so we had to come up with our own system over the years. We end up adapting it more often than you’d think as the book world evolves out there in the other world."

  "The real world, you mean," Marc said, a hint of scorn in his voice.

  "What is real?" Eliza said, sounding both whimsical and philosophical at once. Her tone remained light, but there was an edge to it, promising that her patience with Marc was already running thin. "I mean, we’re here. This is happening. That’s real enough for me. But overall, there’s not actually a consensus. Some people in the After call the world we were created in the real world, some call it the other world, a lot of us don’t think about it at all."

  All of this was going on as we continued to move through the building, trusting Eliza to take us wherever we were supposed to be, but my attention was only half focused on the conversation going on around me. The rest of my mind kept tugging at threads of ideas forming from what Eliza had told us. Even admitting to myself that I believed I was a book character, or that I had started out that way, didn’t mean I’d even begun to come to terms with what all of that meant for me. For my life, both before and now.

  As I stared at the countless books we passed, I kept getting stuck on the idea that I had come from one of these. Somewhere in this building was the book I’d been formed in. My whole story, cover to cover. And not just mine, everyone I’d ever known.

  I took a few quick steps to catch up with Eliza. "What exactly is your system for placing books in the Archive?" I asked, wanting more of an answer than what Devon had been able to get.

  "Yup. Mostly genre based. Different sections for different kinds of books, but you know there are authors out there who are making it their life’s mission to make things more challenging. You wouldn’t believe some of the random stuff I’ve read…"

  Any other day whatever tangent she was about to fall into would have fascinated me, but for once I felt the need to interrupt her, to stop the flow of information before it began. "So, can people come in here and look up the books they came from?"