Page 70 of Scars Like Wings

I tightened my grip around my thick coat’s collar and scarf as I continued on. The early morning chill of False Fall that refused to end had hit me before I had even left the condo. For the first time in my life, I had slept in a hoodie, sweats, and with my windows closed. I was still freezing in spite of all of that and all the blankets I had on top of me. The warmth from my extra hot shower was just enough to carry me to the slightlyheated station. Now, the chill returned, but the tiny seed of thrill in my belly wasn’t assuaged as I came on the other side of the Commons.

The Archive was unassuming, small, and quaint as I came before it. This close, I could see the ivy snaking its way up the red brick and white stone. The numerous stained glass windows evenly spaced on each side were works of art all their own. The detail on each one were so minute and intricate. It was a wonder that the creator of them was able to use pieces of glass so small. But their colors were in shades that I couldn’t describe with their vibrancy. The only thing better than the details and the color were the scenes they were depicting. Stories of the origins of various supernatural creatures and major events in supernatural history were told on them. The first vampire, the first coven of witches, the first shifter pack, how Atlantis was founded, when fae were discovered, and more were displayed. My personal favorite scene was one of the ones toward the front, showing a group of women with long pointed ears dancing in a meadow of flowers. It was the most colorful of all the windows with the girls having a variety of skin colors and the flowers being a rainbow of color. The result was a kaleidoscope dancing on the sidewalk as the early sun’s rays hit it just so. The sunlight bouncing off the roof’s glass dome and next to all the colors made me feel like I was walking around the inside of a diamond.

Gods, I loved this place. Just seeing the outside of the Archive was enough to brighten my spirits on the days when I was down.

But the real magic was inside.

The glass doors of the entrance slid open on my approach, and I was engulfed in cozy warmth that melted all the cold I was feeling. The smell of books and coffee surrounded me. But all of that wasn’t what took my breath away. No, the same thing that always made me breathless every day I worked did that.

Setting foot into the Archive was like walking out of the wardrobe fromThe Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobeand out to the other side. It was hard to overstate her size inside. The Archive Library was a spacious open circular room, all beautiful dark wooden furniture and faux grass flooring throughout that almost felt like the real thing. Twelve floors with balconies overlooked its center. Bookcases lined the walls from the floor to the ceiling on each level. Elevators on either side of the Archive could take patrons to any of the floors above except for a select few that only management could access. The ceiling overheard was ever-changing every day. Today, it was a sunny blue sky with a bright neon galaxy with clouds of brilliant stars dazzling across it. The scene reminded me of late night neon signs that remained alight even during the day. It was the perfect combination of night and day.

At the center of the Library, a giant tree as tall as a Sequoia stood, reaching beyond the ceiling with branches even disappearing into the galaxy above. The trunk was wider than the General Sherman tree in California. The tree’s roots formed the main circulation desk that encircled her trunk with flourishing flora and fauna. Her roots also formed the eight long, large tables that stretched from the desk to the edges of the Library as well as the smaller tables in between. The long branches of the tree stretched all over the library. Some formed the bookcases all around and the railings of the balconies. Some pushed carts and placed materials back home on the shelves. Books, scripts, pages, scrolls, and other works that were returned, had been placed on hold, or just returning to their shelves flew all around like birds. The magic in the Archive was as palpable as the depth of her history, even though I had been working here for over ten years.

The Archive Library was not only among the oldest libraries in the world, but she was the oldestlivinglibrary in the UnitedStates with some of the oldest materials in existence. Centuries upon centuries ago, women built the Library for women for the sake of preserving works by women, folks of color, members of the LGBTQIA+ community, and other “others.” It was once a sacred place, a shelter, where only women or outcasts could set foot. Witches blessed the walls to ensure their safety and the lasting security of the Archive. They breathed life into the Archive so that even if they weren’t able to protect her, she would always be able to hold her own. Ancient magic flowed through every part of her from her bookcases to her books and even the technology within her. With their powerful spells, runes, and hexes, they gave her an identity, personality, thoughts, intelligence, and desires, so she could always think one step ahead and nurture her patrons with her knowledge. While the Archive had no actual voice, she was able to speak in her own way. Time passed, the Library started to open her doors to others who didn’t need protection from society. When Everlore and Blackbell were built around her, she welcomed the newcomers to learn from her. But somehow, it always felt like the Archive never forgot where she came from and never would.

Gods, she was the epitome of an icon, and I couldn’t be more of a stan if I wanted to be. The Archive Library was my home, always and forever.

“Welcome to the ‘Hive,” a voice muttered behind the circulation desk, and I resisted the urge to shake my head. On top of assuming he was some genius when he read at a fifth-grade reading level at best, Ethan was a lazy asshole. He always found a way to do the bare minimum, which somehow got the job done but also inconvenienced me at the same time.

“Good morning, Ethan! I hope it’s okay I’m here early. I have some research to do.” As I approached the waist-high roots of the circulation desk, just enough of them sank into the floor toallow me behind the desk before returning to where they were before.

“It’s whatever. I was ready to go, anyway.” He sneered my way before setting his phone down to start packing up his things. Ethan was tall and lanky, all limbs with only a little muscle. I think he had put on his resting bitch face so much his face was frozen that way.

“Okaaaay.” I took off my backpack purse from my shoulders before taking off my coat and scarf. I put it over my arm as I waited for him to gather his things. “Did you count the cash in the register? And update the computers?”

“I think I know how to do my job, Byrd.” He rolled his eyes as he stood to leave.

“Cool! See you later! Have a good rest of your day!” I said to his back as he left the building. I shook my head and rolled my shoulders to relieve some of the tension his presence always caused me.

A branch from above stretched down and passed me a large black to-go cup of hot coffee. I took it, looking at it questioningly. Then I noticed Journee’s logo on the sleeve and couldn’t help but smile. I took a sip of it, the taste sweet, toasty, delicious, and homey. It was like I was drinking a baked sweet potato with roasted marshmallows on top. I closed my eyes and hummed with pure bliss. The branch twirled one of my locs, making me giggle before returning to its position above me.

“You looked like you needed that,” Journee called while they wiped the counter of Journee Made Coffee and Bistro. Journee was tall and athletic in build, with dark olive skin. As always, their face was glittery and golden with thick eyeliner behind their long eyelashes and a dark eye and lip that was still somehow vibrant in color. Their long, thick black hair was in a ponytail that trailed down their back but still didn’t hide the sky blue peekaboo color of the lower half of their hair. Theirundercolor matched the blue and white vertical striped button down they wore tucked into their ripped jeans. Journee always had an air of mischief about them, along with an ever-present smile on their face. It’s one of the things that made them fun to be around.

Well, that and the fact that they always knew your bistro order and what you needed at any time.

“This is perfect as always, Jo! Thank you so much!”

Journee waved before going to check on something out of my line of sight behind the circulation desk.

I took another sip of my coffee before I got to work. There was no one in the library this early. Of course, it was also Monday, and our Tuesday mornings just tended to be busier. I checked that Ethan had done his closing duties—shock to no one, he hadn’t. Or he had done just enough for them to be considered done but also enough for them to be done incorrectly. I rolled my eyes, but I made quick work of finishing and correcting his tasks and completing my early morning ones.

I was wiping the last long table with Pledge when my phone buzzed in my back pocket:

QUEENIE ♥?

Good morning, sweetness. How do you feel about surprises? ??

I raised an eyebrow and replied:

ME

I freaking ?love? surprises. What are you planning? Is it big?

The three dots were quick to appear and disappear as a new text popped up:

QUEENIE ♥?

Nice try, but it’s a surprise, you silly goose.