Work Text:
Moments later, the pair reappeared in what looked to be a study. The walls were sleet grey, with ceiling-to-floor bookshelves lined against two side walls. An impressive black desk stood in the center of the room, an imposing piece of furniture adorned with office supplies and small trinkets. There were signs on the wall- black and white banners with mottos like “Protecting the flame of knowledge” written on them. A fireplace flickered dimly behind the desk. They were in the Library. A small gold plaque gently glinted from the flames behind it.
“Penny Adiyodi...” Quentin squinted to read the inscribed text, “...Head Librarian?” He looked over at his friend with a confused look. “Like of the whole Library?”
“It’s complicated. We’ve been cut off from the Neitherlands branch ever since you killed Everett. I never got a chance to thank you for that, by the way. But no one can travel there anymore. And honestly, there’s been a rift between the two branches for a long time now. Hades and the staff here agreed we needed new blood and new ideas, so they have me steering the ship for the time being. It’s only an interim position until we can get in contact with Zelda.”
Quentin nodded. He, more than some of his other companions, understood the Library. When institutions exist for as long as the Library has, they outgrow labels as simple as good and evil. The Order of the Library is an ancient organization, with its founding dating back to the time of the Old Gods. He also understood that Penny was forging his own path. His time on Earth could be chalked up to a glorified taxi service. He felt queasy, thinking about it. They had treated Penny so awfully, like a sidekick. Quentin saw now his importance, his influence. Even just standing there, the dim light from the fire behind him creating a gentle silhouette, Penny looked powerful. He wanted to apologize- to get on his hands and knees and beg for forgiveness. Even now, after all that Quentin had put him through, Penny was helping him.
Quentin was still standing there in reflection when Penny started getting to work. He clapped twice, and warm overhead lights were activated. “Watch this,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. He went to the bookshelf on the side of the room and pulled down a book labeled “The Art of the Sneak”. A trap door. The bookshelves opened outwards and revealed a small room, which looked to be a workroom. A smaller, more appropriately sized desk sat in the back, with stacks of papers piled on top. There was what looked to be an alchemy table opposite it, in a similar state of messiness. The remnants of wards and old spells were littered along the wall, in all kinds of various materials- blood, chalk, and marker. Fast food wrappers filled the small mesh trash can opposite the desk, spilling out onto the floor. A small cot with stained linens strewn messily on top of it was hidden behind the desk. A few framed photos hung along the walls, with photos of Penny and Kady, Brakebills, and his family (Quentin was guessing from this- he had never actually met or even heard about any of Penny’s family before).
Penny stepped in, making a gesture for Quentin to enter. “This...” he started as he began cleaning up, “is my Batcave. Not only is it physically hidden, but also warded up the ass.” He pointed at the trash can, where the trash disappeared with a snap of his fingers. “I can do all kinds of crazy shit in here, and no one will notice.” Another hand wave, and the unruly stacks of paper on his desk straightened themselves out and filed themselves into various drawers of the desk they sat on. He continued on that way, cleaning up, dusting, and tidying what stayed, until the room looked pristine. Quentin swore he even saw an animated sparkle, like when rooms were cleaned in cartoons.
“Sorry about the mess- I didn’t think anyone would be coming in here anytime soon. Listen, you’ll be safe here for the time being. I don’t really think anyone’s going to come looking for you, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. We aren’t technically supposed to bring anyone back here, but I am the boss now, so who knows.”
Quentin looked around- this would do just fine. But... What was he doing here? When he had briefly met Penny during his first hours in the Underworld, he didn’t get any indication that he was needed for anything. And why hadn’t Penny let him stay then? What was the point of all of this? His head was reeling with all the questions lingering in his head. He had done quests before; he knew that questions get answered with time, but Quentin wasn’t feeling particularly patient.
A heavy ‘thump’ brought Quentin back to the present. Penny had dropped a book onto the floor in front of them. It was impossibly large, bound in dark brown leather, and covered in dust. Matching leather straps held the book shut. It was probably a foot thick and equally as long, with jagged, yellowed pages sticking out from the sides. The title was in a language Quentin didn’t recognize- old Fillorian, maybe, or quite possibly from some other world he hadn’t heard of before. An intense magical energy radiated off it, like the repulsion of two magnetic fields facing north-north. He stumbled back several inches, reeling from its power. The hair on the back of his neck stood, suddenly fearful of whatever Penny had just placed down in front of them.
“What the fuck is going on, Penny? Why am I here? What’s with the hidden room and crazy, cursed book? I need some serious explanation here.”
Penny sighed. “You really don’t get it yet? Man, you really are the Quentin I remember.” He walked to the small desk, sitting behind it in a simple black office chair, sinking into the soft leather padding lining it. “Take a seat. Let me just expound on all this for your sake.” Quentin took another look at the book before walking past it, sitting in a small wooden chair opposite his friend. Penny glanced at the clock before speaking.
“Before I get into all of this... Are you hungry? I’m starving.”
He opened a drawer and conjured the pair a feast. He pulled out a clean white tablecloth from a different drawer and draped it over the tabletop, and crystal chalices filled themselves with lemonade. He cut two sandwiches in half and placed them on their plates, licking a dab of mayonnaise from his finger before motioning for Quentin to take what he wanted.
Quentin didn’t realize how hungry he was until the food was right in front of him. He didn’t suppose dead people needed to eat, and he hadn’t in a long while now, but his stomach grumbled ferociously at the sight of such decadence. He tore into the spread, savoring the delicate layers of flavor packed into the innocent-looking meal. As he chomped down on the soft bread enclosing his sandwich, he tasted everything good in the world: fresh tomato, mozzarella, pesto, arugula; a smattering of roasted red peppers rounded out the strong, savory flavors. A groan escaped him as he ate. Penny placed the second sandwich on his plate as he devoured the first in no time. He ate that one just as quickly, then continued to the sides- he piled his plate high. Quentin ate and ate, his stomach a black hole.
He slumped into his chair afterwards, a satisfied huff escaping his grease-stained lips. He knew he had just eaten like a pig, and absolutely did not care. Penny popped a grape into his mouth, snacking on bits and bobs left on the table, not wishing to eat much after witnessing such unabashed gluttony. Quentin was so thankful he could cry, but that would have made both of them uncomfortable, so he stuck to a grateful nod and full attention as Penny began to speak.
“So I died, right? You remember that part. I signed a contract with the Library, so I was sent straight down here when I died. No Secrets taken to the Grave, no Metro, no closure. I’m as alive as a dead guy can be. I met Hades- cool guy, doesn’t make himself scarce like most Gods. He saw potential in me, and when Everett died, I was the guy in charge. It felt good...” He took a moment to admire the space he had made for himself.
“... and it also meant I got access to stuff I never thought I would. Ancient knowledge. Forbidden books. Intense battle magic. I found something, Quentin.” He nodded towards the book. “I’ve got no idea of how it could have even gotten to the Library. It was hidden underneath the floorboards in Everett’s office. It was highly enchanted, but we were powerful enough to break whatever was keeping it in there. I don’t know what it is, exactly, but I can feel the magic it lets out. We went to its world of origin, but only got a glimpse of it before we were kicked out. But what I saw... We didn’t want to be there any longer than that moment.”
Quentin cocked his head. “We?”
“Oh yeah,” Penny said as he dabbed food remnants off his stubble with the pressed linen napkin sitting on his lap, “There was no way I was going to be able to get to that world alone. There’s another Librarian down here I’ve been working with. She has this super freaky ability, one that I’ve never heard of any other Travelers having. She can sense points of origin when in contact with objects- like an intense GPS. I mean, her power is insane. Hades actually offered her the position of Head Librarian first, but she refused. She’s more of a consultant than an actual Librarian, as she doesn’t actually have a formal contract.” He pointed to one of the pictures hanging on the wall. It showed Penny and a woman, smiling and posing in front of a statue of Hades. Underneath it was a small label which read “Unveiling day 2025!”.
The woman in the photo was unfamiliar to Quentin, and he couldn’t seem to look away. Her beauty was striking. She stood at maybe five feet tall, stout and wide. Soft, loose ginger curls framed her face, falling right above her shoulders. She wore a simple grey turtleneck tucked into a pair of loose grey denim slacks, and a modest pair of leather loafers. A large green necklace hung around her neck, and she wore several silver rings on her fingers, covering small runic tattoos. Dark freckles covered tanned skin, rosy cheeks, and a large, hooked nose. The woman had thin ginger eyebrows along her forehead and large, doe-like green eyes. She smiled widely and sincerely, exposing crooked, slightly yellow teeth and a significant gap between her two front incisors. She posed with one hand cradled behind Penny’s back, and the other was formed into a peace sign.
Penny continued. “She told me to call her Siobhan. I have a feeling that’s not her real name, that it might be something more ancient or otherwise un-sayable, but I don’t pry. When I found the book, she was the only one I trusted to tell, and I’m glad she did. I have no idea what Siobhan’s life was like when she was alive, but she was clearly someone with a lot of power and influence.”
“That book... it’s not really a book. It’s an illusion, hiding under an ancient and powerful spell that none of us has been able to break so far. Our best guess right now is that it contains some kind of magical relic from the Old Gods. It doesn’t seem evil, but nothing from that time was really good, either, so we’re trying to keep this thing pretty need-to-know. You’re the fourth person I’ve told now, other than Siobhan, Hades, and Pearl Sunderland. We actually have been meeting here pretty often, and it was Sunderland’s idea to deal you in on this. Once Siobhan is back, we can give you a more in-depth explanation.”
Penny took a moment to sip on some lemonade, parched from the exposition he was currently rattling off to Quentin.
“So anyway, Siobhan and I decide, why don’t we just see where it’s from? We’re both Travellers, and powerful ones at that; we can handle wherever this thing plops us. That’s the biggest mistake we have ever made.” He gulped, clearly disturbed by this memory.
“We think... we think that we traveled to Tartarus.” Penny shook his head. “It was fucking terrifying, Q. Eldritch. We stood outside of a gate, hundreds of feet tall, made of bone, fleshy sinew, body parts of humans, animals, and creatures I had never seen before. We got a glimpse of a castle far in the distance and creatures beyond the fence. They were ugly creations, mistakes of the Old Gods. We couldn’t have been there for more than a few seconds before we heard screeching from behind us, and we were transported back. I had never felt more real, palpable danger before, and it fucking terrified me. Obviously, we haven’t gone back since.”
Quentin was soaking in the rapid-fire information he was receiving. His face scrunched in thought. “So you don’t know what it is, or where it comes from. What makes you think it’s so important or dangerous that you can’t tell anyone?”
Penny stood up suddenly, rummaging through a filing cabinet (was that always there?) to the left of his desk. He pulled out a slim manila envelope, dropping it on Quentin’s lap. “Read this.”
Quentin picked up the envelope. It had no label and felt light. He carefully opened the flap, sliding out a small stack of papers, maybe 10 pages or so. The cover page was a couple of sentences long, written in plain, clean handwriting. From the desk of Everett Rowe. Confidential information below, not for ANYONE’S eyes but yours. It didn’t state to whom the letter was for.
The second page contained another small, handwritten note:
My dear,
I’ve finally found the answer to all our problems. Everything went to plan- The Couple were far too stupid to notice I snagged this off them. Please, keep it safe. I love you. Keep it safe.
Your Everett.
He flipped to the third page. It was a title page, in the same mysterious language, on the cover of the not-book lying on the workroom floor. He could tell it was a title page due to its formatting: The font was large and stylistic, framed in the center of the page. Illustrations surrounded it, reminiscent of the illuminated manuscripts he was forced to study in Art History, but they were of plants and creatures foreign to Quentin. A small lion sat in the corner of the page, but had a giant hunched back, and wings like that of an insect, and thorny golden vines wrapped themselves around the borders of the page. The next few pages were all the same, but with body text filling the pages. It was neatly written and clearly ancient from the status of the papers, brown and stained from centuries of handling. Quentin flipped to a page near the back, one that had been bookmarked with a neon pink sticky note. It again had the same indecipherable text, but it was accompanied by what looked like... Blueprints? Instructions, maybe? Without the context of the language, it was hard to say.
He parsed through the following pages, making his way to the next bookmarked section, this time marked with an equally neon orange sticky note. It was a few pages of attempted translations and lists of languages, some crossed out, some not.
“This is what we’re focused on right now,” Penny interrupted. “Trying to find the language these pages are written in. Clearly, Everett had some kind of connection to this book, and it’s linked to his attempted journey to Godhood. This and our short travel journey are enough to know it has something to do with Tartarus and the Old Gods. We actually didn’t even find this stuff until we brought Sunderland in, who gave Everett’s old office a good shake-down.” He shook his head in admiration. “Man, that woman is a professional. These were hidden way better than the book, which makes us think the two are related, and these pages must be way more dangerous than whatever that thing is.” He jutted a thumb towards the not-book.
“How long have you guys been working at this?” Quentin asked.
“Pretty much as soon as Everett died. Those few months you spent in your memories were when the real research started. I knew as soon as you arrived down here that we’d need you, but back then our research had just started, and we wanted to give you time to adjust to being, y’know, dead. When Charon told me about what was going on with you, I came up with an excuse to get him out of my hair while I came and got you. Something about his cat getting loose. It was embarrassingly easy to get him to leave.”
Quentin needed time to digest. This was a lot of information. He had just finished getting over his friends and was prepared to be dead, and here he was, snatched up into another adventure. He felt his eyelids get heavy as he continued scanning the papers.
“Maybe we can continue going over this another day. You’ve had a long past few months,” Penny said, noticing the weight Quentin was holding. “You’ll be staying here. It’s safe, and the cot is pretty comfortable. There’s a bathroom in the main office. If you wake up hungry or thirsty, open up the second drawer on the left side of my desk. It knows what you’re craving.”
“I’ll see you in the morning. Get some rest, the real work starts tomorrow.” With that, Penny disappeared. Quentin looked around the now-empty room. What the fuck, he thought as he sauntered over to the small bed, is going on here? He saw a pair of pressed grey pajamas, perfectly folded. He changed slowly, carefully peeling off his layers and setting them in a small hamper that lay opposite the cot. Quentin Coldwater, exhausted from the excitement of new adventures, crawled under the warm covers and drifted quickly into a deep slumber.