Irish Libraries Novels & Stories

I found her in the library. Not the Blackwood library—the one at Silver Creek Academy, hidden in the basement beneath the gymnasium. It was where the scholarship students studied, far from the polished reading rooms upstairs. The ceiling leaked. The chairs were broken. But no one from Marcus’s world ever came here. Iris was sitting at a table covered in textbooks, her dark hair falling across her face, a pencil tucked behind her ear. She looked up when I entered, and her expression shifted from surprise to concern to anger in the space of a heartbeat.

The moon was the only light, although more lights turned on as I began to wander the aisles. Had my grandda been a big reader? I wondered. One aisle had books that were all written in Irish. I pulled one out, curious, but my Irish was rudimentary at best, and I could hardly read a heavy tome that seemed to be about Ireland’s flora and fauna. Other aisles had books in English, most of which seemed to be nonfiction: natural history of Ireland, Catholic treatises, and a variety of Bibles were all collected together. I did finally find a section of fiction, most of the authors being Irish—James Joyce, Samuel Beckett, Oscar Wilde were all there.

she said aloud. “What is the meaning of that?" Michael asked. "It is the biggest universal research library in Germany and one of Europe's most important universal libraries," Savannah smiled, delighted to pose as a first class tour guide. "Currently, it has over ten million books and ranks among the best research libraries worldwide. It is rich with history and contains one of the most important manuscript collections of the world, the largest collection of incunabula worldwide. In English, it is called the Bavarian State Library. It is where we are going to find answers about James Blackwheel."

More books than existed in all of Evenmoor combined. Then a faint whispering from the shelves hit my ears. That wasn’t normal, but nothing in this world was normal. I swallowed. “Come,” Iris said, already moving deeper into the stacks. “We have work to do.” Fingers knitted together, I forced my feet forward, careful to stay a few paces behind. The library felt sacred. Like I shouldn’t touch anything without permission. Iris paused, and I did as well. My eyes followed her hand as it lifted toward a book and drew it out. She turned to face me with something that might have been a smile—if smiles could look grim.

Irish smiled, admiring the way the glow of the fire made his hair glint. "So...we were talking about?"Ethan asked. "Huh? Yeah you were telling me a story about 'Y' Which has a tail and two branches" Irish said and they both laughed. "I love your collection of books" Irish said glancing round the library. One can spend years in reading all of the books here. "Thank you! But most of the novels here are Spic-fic novels,you might not find them interesting" Ethan said. "Yeah, i saw that when Gabrielle showed me the library" Irish said.

She snaked her hand around Sheila's neck and spoke in an undertone, "This is the moment where you will see your dreams colliding with reality." Sheila curled her lips in a wide grin. The dream she had about the crown came rushing into her head. "Then, what 're we waitin' for? Let's go!" They marched directly to Greenfalls street that led to the library, singing to their favorite tune. The passers-by and the bystanders glanced at the twosome in amusement, and they took pleasure at their pleasant gawks. They stood in front of a large brick wall building with an inscription of Kateworm library. The library was a third illustrious and recognizable library in Wicklow for encompassing historical q

With its winding hallways and tall, secret-filled walls, the Silver Moon packhouse had always seemed like a maze to Iris. There was a feeling of dread in the air tonight. After her escape the previous evening, the brightness of her mark had faded, but the uneasiness that still pervaded her chest had not. She's only a diversion, Damon's words still ringing in her head. Iris found herself prowling the hallways once again, determined to uncover anything to foil Damon's plans. With its dusty volumes of lost history and its secret nooks, the library seemed the most sensible place to look. The door creaked slightly behind her as she stepped inside.

I wasn’t expecting him to call straight away but I’m kind of excited he has. “Hi Jareth, sorry to bother you I didn’t expect you to call me back straight away.” I smile and he grins back at me “It is my pleasure Iris. I had a feeling you might contact me sooner rather than later after all we still have a lot talk about.” He sits grinning like a Cheshire cat and I can’t help but grin back. “So what is it you want to ask or talk to me about?” “Well I have my grandmother’s book, you called it a grimoire? I wondered how to get it open?”

The librarians already knew where she was, and they’d chase until they lost her. Neither one of us had a clue if these librarians were impervious to the liquid fire, but it was worth a try. I felt somewhat bad for setting fire to the underground library, losing knowledge was horrible, but there was always that chance it could be saved. That’s what Iridian is about; chances and odds.

The moment we enter, she shuts the lock, shutting the door with the key. I lean against the door, trying to catch my breath, staring around, I see shelves of books lined up the wall, the high arched window and the soft golden light that dances around the room, plush armchairs spread around an oak table, filled with books, papers and pen. I don’t need to be told that this is a library. “You.” Iris says, looking at me. “Who in the hell are you? And, why did you grab my hand? Why in the hell did you bring me here?”