Changed by Time ✔

twelve.

Nolan led Wendy to the third podium in the aisle, one of the larger of the four books. He pulled out his notepad as soon as they reached it, flipping to his notes on it.

"I don't this this page was set to be displayed just because it was pretty," Nolan stated, pointing to the book.

The pages that were displayed were written in old English, slightly reminding Wendy of a Shakespearean play. On the right page was a large picture of a young woman wearing a long traveling cloak. She was next some bookshelves with a quill in one hand while her other hand rested on one of the books.

"Basically, this story was written about a young sorceress who was tasked to find a special book that had many spells within it. Because she was so skilled and quick to learn the mystical arts, she was the only one who could learn the spells – let alone find the book that contained them," Nolan explained, reading from his notes. "These pages basically describe when she's escaping the home of her teacher due to some villagers growing angry over a spell that went poorly only days prior."

"What does a quill and a book have to do with that?"

"That's what we're going to find out." Nolan pointed between the two of them.

Wendy tilted her head as she narrowed her eyes. "Are you telling me that we're going to have to go through all of these books to find out some kind of answer to all of this?"

He appeared to think for a moment before nodding. "Yes, that is what I'm telling you."

"Oh my god."

--

"I never thought I'd say this," Wendy began, her face pressed against an open book, "but I'm sick of reading."

She sat across from Nolan, but she wouldn't have known due to the massive stacks of books surrounding the two of them. It practically created a wall between them; she could barely see the top of his head over it.

"Yeah, we've got to find a better way to do this," Nolan said, running a hand through his hair as he stood up. He threw his notepad back into his backpack and looked down at his watch, letting out a groan as he followed with, "We can think on it tonight because it's already half past four. Let's go ahead and put these books away and we can go somewhere to eat."

"I like the way you think, Wilson." Wendy stood up, picking up a stack of books as she began making her rounds to put them away.

As she went down the many aisles, she quickly realized that it was going to take a while. No wonder Nolan had them working on it with half an hour left – it would've taken poor Grady at least double the time to do it on his own. The poor guy was already stuck in an ancient library with masterpieces of books that he can't read – no reason to kick him while he's already down.

Wendy fingered through the book spines, muttering the author's names to herself as she found the original place for the book. She pushed aside one book, barely spotting as a figure seemed to duck down or even dash away from their spot on the other side.

I can't think of anything more cliché, she thought, shaking off the chill that ran up her spine.

She placed the book back and kept going down the aisle. She finally finished with her first stack, wiping her hands on her hoodie as she could see the dust cloud appear around her area and all down the aisle. She looked down the aisle, her eyes watching as the dust danced around her in a way that made her almost like the dust.

She froze as soon as her eyes met the end of the aisle. There she saw another, or the same, figure partially behind one of the shelves. She narrowed her eyes and made her way over, quickening her walk into a run as they moved away again.