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Chapter Forty-Seven: The Call from the Library
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2026-08-06 00:26:09The phone continued to ring.
No number.
No name.
Only four words.
Silverfang Public Library.
Marcus looked from the screen to me.
"It has to be fake."
"Probably," Inspector Mara Voss replied.
"But answer it anyway."
Marcus handed me the phone.
I let it ring once more before pressing accept.
"This is Adrian Vale."
Silence answered.
Not static.
Not interference.
Just the faint sound of pages turning.
Someone was reading.
I waited.
A woman's calm voice finally spoke.
"Good morning, Chairman."
My grip tightened.
"Who is this?"
"You've never met me."
"Then how do you know who I am?"
"I've been expecting your call for twenty-four years."
The words sent a chill through the room.
Ronan stepped closer so he could hear.
"You called me," I said.
"No."
A soft laugh.
"I simply knew you would answer."
Behind her, another page turned.
Then another.
As though she had never stopped reading.
"What do you want?"
"To keep you alive."
"I've heard that before."
"And yet you're still breathing."
She wasn't wrong.
Every person who had claimed to protect me had also hidden the truth.
I wasn't interested in another guardian.
"I don't trust you."
"I know."
"You expect me to come to the library anyway."
"I do."
"Why?"
Another pause.
"Because Sebastian Vale always finished the books he started."
My heart skipped.
"My father knew you."
"Very well."
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
Her answer came too quickly to be rehearsed, yet too calmly to sound defensive.
"I haven't seen Sebastian in three months."
Three months.
Not yesterday.
Not last week.
Long before Elias Mercer died.
Long before the attack on Silverfang Tower.
That timeline didn't fit anything we'd been told.
Ronan caught it immediately.
"You expected him sooner."
The woman chuckled quietly.
"I was wondering how long it would take one of you."
"One of us?"
"You or Mr. Ashcroft."
She spoke Ronan's name with complete confidence.
"We've never met."
"No."
"But I've shelved enough stories to recognize their protagonists."
Marcus mouthed, What does that even mean?
I ignored him.
"If you know so much..."
I glanced at the legacy box.
"...tell me what Orion is."
The line became silent.
Long enough that I thought she'd disconnected.
When she finally answered, her voice had changed.
Less amused.
More careful.
"Not over the phone."
"So you do know."
"I know what people believe it is."
"And what is that?"
"A file."
My pulse slowed.
"But?"
"It was never a file."
Ronan and I exchanged a glance.
The Orion File.
The code in the pocket watch.
The whispers.
The memories.
Everything pointed toward a document.
Yet this woman was saying we'd misunderstood from the beginning.
"Then what is Orion?" I asked.
"I'm afraid that's a conversation."
She closed the book she had been reading.
"I refuse to have through a telephone."
The line clicked.
I heard the faint creak of an old wooden chair.
Then footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Echoing across what sounded like a vast room.
"The library opens in thirty minutes."
"It was abandoned."
"No."
A smile entered her voice.
"It was forgotten."
The call ended.
No one spoke for several seconds.
Marcus finally exhaled.
"That was..."
"Weird?" Inspector Voss suggested.
"Terrifying."
Ronan leaned against the table.
"She's educated."
"How can you tell?"
"She quoted Sebastian."
He looked at me.
"And she never once tried to convince us she was telling the truth."
I nodded.
She hadn't pleaded.
Threatened.
Or bargained.
She'd simply invited us.
Mr. Rowan's expression remained thoughtful.
"I know who she is."
Everyone turned toward him.
"You do?"
"I've never met her."
"Then how—"
"But Sebastian described her once."
He looked toward the window.
"He said there was one person outside Genesis who knew every secret."
Marcus frowned.
"A scientist?"
"No."
"A politician?"
"No."
Rowan slowly smiled.
"A librarian."
Half an hour later, we stood across the street from the old Silverfang Public Library.
Morning sunlight washed across the weathered stone façade.
Unlike the shining towers surrounding it, the library belonged to another era.
Tall arched windows.
Bronze doors.
Marble columns darkened by time.
A faded inscription stretched above the entrance.
Knowledge Outlives Kings.
No reporters stood outside.
No police tape.
No security guards.
It was as if the city had forgotten the building existed.
Marcus looked uneasy.
"This place gives me bad feelings."
"It should," Rowan replied.
"It remembers things people don't."
Inspector Voss motioned to two officers.
"Secure the perimeter."
They moved into position.
I climbed the worn stone steps first.
The brass handle felt cold beneath my hand.
I pushed.
The door opened without resistance.
Inside...
There was no dust.
No abandoned shelves.
No broken furniture.
The library was immaculate.
Thousands of books lined polished oak shelves.
Sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows.
Fresh flowers stood on the front desk.
And behind that desk...
An elderly woman quietly closed the book she'd been reading.
She looked at me over a pair of round spectacles.
Then smiled gently.
"Welcome home, Adrian."
Before I could answer, she looked past me to Ronan.
Her smile softened.
"And welcome back."
Ronan stopped walking.
His face lost all color.
He stared at the woman as if he'd seen a ghost.
Then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said,
"I know you."
The woman nodded.
"Yes."
A shadow of sadness crossed her face.
"You used to call me Grandmother Ivy."
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