And, she realized, few of the people were human. A hundred 
different forms wandered the shelves, some that wouldn’t come to 
her knees, some so large their heads rose above the stacks, and 
every size in between. There were things like humanoid insects and 
reptiles, creatures half made of metal, living shadows, creatures of 
moving wire, floating particles circling glowing orbs, suits of armor, 
multi-armed men, a hundred other things. She stared, jaw gaping. 


It is considered impolite to linger on a Way. 


Nodding, she descended the stairs. Sounds of a dozen different 
languages drifted through her ears. Smells of spice and perfume 
and yellowed pages mingled in her nose. 


You... might have undersold this place a bit. 
It is usually best to let one see such a thing for themself. 


A bit more prep might have been nice. She turned, taking in what 
seemed to be a dozen new sights a second. And... you think we’re 
gonna find the Warden here? 


We will, with luck, find information on the Warden’s location. 
Few places are greater than the Library for finding what needs 
to be known, though the search can be... expansive. 


A multi-armed thing that looked like a human spider skittered across 
a shelf, forcing books into any empty space it could find. /s that right. 


Hopefully we will be able to accomplish our goal with little 
trouble. 


Commotion made her turn around. A group of people had gathered 
and were moving through the shelves, talking excitedly. Any idea 
what that’s about? 


Any number of possibilities. Events in the Library tend towards 
the varied and spontaneous. 


She thought for a moment, then said, Well, let’s see what it’s all 
about. 


It would be more ideal to search areas we know will be useful. 


Sucks. The crowd had grown in size, and she followed behind the 
bulk of the group. You should have thought about that before you 
didn’t have a body. 


It didn’t respond to that. She trailed behind the crowd as it moved 
down the shelves, accumulating members. Some seemed to know 
its destination. Others were like her, joining because it looked 
interesting or they had nothing better to do. 


After walking far enough that she had begun wondering if the 
shelves had any end, the path opened into another clearing, where 
another crowd of patrons was waiting. The two groups blended into 


each other, members falling into excited conversation. Amy looked 
around. There didn’t seem anything that could warrant the activity 
level. 


A creature stepped forward from the crowd. It looked like some blind 
artist had mashed a bird, slug, and man together. Seven feet tall, 
dripping slime, with skin like putty and a beak that reached halfway 
to the floor. A hush fell over the gathering as it came forth. It raised 
one of the three tentacles it had in place of arms and screeched loud 
enough that Amy had to clamp her hands over her ears. 


Ten minutes later, the noise halted, and the clearing erupted into a 
battlefield. Patrons yelled, shoved each other to the ground, 
scrambled over their neighbors, until they had fallen into a line that 
snaked into the shelves and out of sight. As they approached the 
slug-thing, and she saw the objects the patrons held, and it dawned 
on her. 


It’s a book signing. 


A frequent occurrence in a place such as this. Interesting. 

When | was last in the Library, Sisskn Lss Isstno was still a new 
arrival from another world, surviving by selling his poor 
attempts at poetry. 


Think he knows anything? 
It is doubtful. 


What do they even use to buy shit with here? If there’s a ton of 
universes coming together, they can’t all have the same money, 
right? 


The most valuable of things- knowledge. Should that be 
unavailable, bartering for goods is considered acceptable.. 


Amy nodded. The patrons here were even more varied than in the 
first clearing. How many different worlds converged in the Library? 
What kind of things would you see, living here long enough? A 
thought occurred to her. This would probably be a pretty sweet place 
to learn magic. 


It has few rivals. With the volumes available, one would have 
little need for a teacher. 


I'll need to grab some of those, then. Hey, maybe | can finally kick 
you out! 


Unlikely. 


Guess you're right. Who knows what I'd do without your amazing 
conv- She froze. Standing by a shelf, two men watched the line. 
Crisp haircuts. Clearly fit. Eyes that took in everything around them. 
And on their uniforms, the symbol of the Foundation. One glanced at 
her. He turned, spoke to his partner. 


Oh fuck. Oh fuck no. 
They moved towards her. 


She took off running so fast that at first she didn’t even realize what 
she was doing. Patrons glared at her as they stepped out of her 
way. She didn’t pay it any attention. The only thought in her head 
was to get as far away as fast as possible, following forks in the 
shelves, turning down aisles at random. When she was sure she 
had lost them, she kept running. It didn’t stop until she was on the 
verge of collapse. 


She leaned against a shelf, sliding down to the floor How the fuck 
did they find me? 


They did not. Those agents did not originate from your 
universe. They are most likely passive observers placed here 
by their organization. 


What the hell were they doing staring at me like that, then? 


There are many possibilities. The motivations of humans fs not 
my area of expertise. 


Amy sighed. Her eyes fell on the shelves around her. They were 
different from the section she’d been in before- black instead of 
brown, less full to the brim. Another spider-thing was crawling near 
the top, rearranging the volumes. Patrons stepped around her, some 


making annoyed comments in languages she didn’t understand. 
What's the deal with this place? 


The Southern Alabaster region of the Library. There are many 
domains managed by various Archivists. It is one of the many 
reasons for the Library’s haphazard nature. 


Right. She pushed herself to her feet. Her legs still shook from the 
strain of running. Looks like | did a pretty good job of fucking this all 


up. 


Not as much as one might think. There are several contacts in 
this area that may be able to offer assistance. 


And you sound super happy about that. 


The Witness was silent for a minute before saying They... are not 
the ideal choices. 


Twenty minutes later, it had guided Amy to a small shelf tucked 
between the rows. She squeezed through the cracks, and found 
herself in a domed area the size of a basketball court. Books lined 
the walls, running up and held in place even on the ceiling. Though 
she saw no source for it, light filled the room. The only dark area 
was a small shadow near the back of the shelves. 


Amy took a step forward, and the shadow sprung to life. It burst 
forward, splitting into a dozen different branches that snaked along 
the floor, climbed the walls, encircled her. Within seconds, the room 
had reversed. She stood in the one circle of light, ringed in shade. 


The darkness bulged upward, like a volcano about to burst. With a 
noise like ripping cloth, it tore itself from the floor. Tendrils of shadow 
twisted into the silhouette of a seven-foot tall man. Though it had no 
eyes, a feeling rose in Amy, like the creature was staring through 
her. 


“It's been a long time since | felt this presence.” The voice that 
spoke was smooth like the flat of a knife, a sliver over a whisper. 
“You must be the newest host. Little one, what is your name?” 


“Uh. Amy. Amy Melvil.” 


A break in the silhouette’s face appeared, curving into the shadow of 
a smile. The expression made it look like one of those drama masks, 
twisted in anger. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Melvil. | am Silav. 
Tell me, what business do you have with an old, forgotten god?” 


Amy waited for the Witness to say something. But a minute went by 
without any response. Did it want her to do the talking? “We’re trying 
to meet with the Warden.” 


Shadow rose up next to Silav, molding into the form of a chair. He 
settled down into it, crossed his legs. Or gave the appearance of 
doing so, at least. “Because?” 


Could she trust this thing? The Witness seemed to think it was 
alright, though it had been wrong before. Best not to give any more 
information than she needed to. “Someone’s chasing us. We need 
help dealing with it.” 


“It must be quite a foe, if it’s making the Witness ask the Warden for 
help.” The shadow of its hand writhed. A wineglass sprouted from it. 
“And why are you coming to me for this information?” 


Somehow she doubted saying it was just the closest informant 
available was a great idea. “The Witness admires... all the 
knowledge you've gathered.” 


“Mmm.” Silav swirled ‘wine’ in the shadowy glass. “Lie to me again, 
and I'll take your head.” It sipped from the glass. “We’re far enough 
off the beaten path that the Docents won’t take notice.” 


What the hell was a Docent? Probably nothing good. She 
swallowed. “Sorry. Honestly, we just kind of stumbled onto this 
place. It wasn’t really intentional.” 


The “smile” widened. “Isn’t honesty refreshing?” 
“Sure, | guess.” 


Silav cackled. “I may know the information you seek. The question 
is, what are you willing to pay?” 


“Uh. You could to it as a favor for a friend?” 


“Oh little one.” Silav leaned forward. “The Witness is hardly my 
friend. And little would change if it were. Books are free in the 
Library. Information isn't.” 


Any time you feel like stepping in is fine by me, she thought. No 
response. Was it testing her? “I bet the Witness has information it’d 
be willing to trade you.” 


Silav shrugged. “None that would be of use to me. It may have 
knowledge, but | have experience. The Library is my home. | can 
find any information | need in the shelves, given time.” 


Amy glanced around the room. What the hell would something like 
Silav want? If it really was a god, she doubted there was anything 
she could give that it didn’t have. “I’m gonna bet you don't take 
lOUs?” 


Black fingers intertwined. “I would not.” 


If she was a weird shadow-god thing, what would she want? It said 
knowledge wasn’t a problem. It wouldn’t have much effort getting 
material goods, she wagered, and she had none to offer. How does 
a god survive? Belief. Worship. People. 


Was this cave its home or its prison? “You’ve gotta have someone 
doing errands for you,” she said. “I could owe you some favors, once 
this whole Warden shitshow is sorted out.” 


“I see,” said the shade. “And if you’re host to the Witness, you must 
have power or potential.” Its next sip emptied the glass. Shadow 
welled up to refill it. “Tempting.” 


“We've got a deal?” 


“We do not. | have all the apostles | need, for the moment.” Again, 
that cracked smile formed on its face. “Though we may have to 
reassess the situation at a later date.” 


No need for knowledge. No need for wealth. No need for worship. 
What did she have that was unique? What could the shadow not find 


anywhere else, no matter how it searched? There was one thing. “I'll 
give you my story,” she said. 


The shadow’s tattered edges stilled. Silav let its hand fall back into 
the silhouette, and the whole imaged stretched forward, until its face 
was so close it blotted out all light from the room. “Really.” 


Amy gazed into the void. Was she hallucinating? Deep within the 
dark, she saw what looked like movement, like a coiled beast at the 
bottom of a forgotten cave, shifting as it slept. But then it was gone. 
“Really. When all this is done, | can come tell you all about it.” 


In an eyeblink, the shadow had retreated. All darkness in the room 
sucked inward, coalescing into a sphere hovering just above the 
ground, surrounded by a dozen shifted rings. “Interesting.” Its voice 
was all around her, in every inch of the room, in the walls, in the 
cracks in the floor, in the gaps between books, rustling her clothes 
with the force of it. “This, | think | can take.” 


She opened her mouth to thank it, but before the words could form 
the voice sounded again. 


“But your story will mean little after one trial. It’s the lives lived fully 
that are interesting, no? So | will not take your story now, or a year 
from now, or a decade from now. | will take it when you are at your 
final bed. | will appear before you, and before your final breath runs 
dry, | will take your story. Can you assent to this?” 


She nodded. In her ears she could still her the echo of its speech. 
Did she have any other choice, given the circumstance? “Yes.” 


“The Warden of your Witness is in Mizoram. India,” said Silav, and 
as it spoke she saw everything, the boy, the creature that 
accompanied him, the village in which he resided. She knew exactly 
what to do to get there, the path of Ways to take, the rules to follow. 
It was all laid before her. 


“T-thank you,” she said, still reeling from the sudden rush of 
information. 


“Now leave.” 


She left, stumbling from the door. Before she could fall, she leaned 
against a shelf, breathing heavily. A hundred bits of information 
being dumped into your brain at once caused a hell of headache. 


! am impressed. The voice of the Witness focused thing, made the 
din of information settle. 


“You couldn’t have given a hint or something?” 


Little is learned when the hand is always held. This is not the 
final time you will encounter beings such as Silav. Now, you are 
slightly more equipped for the coming road. 


“Slightly,” she muttered. “Yay.” Pushing herself away from the shelf, 
she said, “There’s a Way near the kid’s village. So hopefully the 
assholes chasing us won't have a bunch of time to figure out we’re 
there.” 


“We wouldn't,” said a familiar voice. She turned, and her eyes went 
wide. “Though, it appears it’s unnecessary.” Rupinder smiled. “Now, 
let us talk.” 


« Rites of Passage | Hub | Living Through Shattered Glass » 


Living Through Shattered Glass 


“So, everything you told me was bullshit.” 
Rupinder tilted his head. “Was it?” 


“All that talk about letting me leave if | wanted? Yeah, looks like it.” 
Something about him made her shudder, though she couldn't put 
her finger on what. 


He held his hands in his pockets. His hair was tied back in a 
ponytail. The green sweatshirt had been swapped for a black T-shirt 
reading “THROBBING GRISTLE/MONTE CAZAZZA TOUR’, 
marked by holes at the seams. It made him look more like a bored 
grad student than someone who organized raids on world-spanning 
conspiracies. “You did leave, did you not?” 


“| figured you wouldn't, you know, kidnap me again.” 
Rupinder raised an eyebrow. “Is that what I’m doing?" 


Amy glanced around. He was standing between her and the only 
route out. Maybe she could rush him? 


Don’t. Violence is strictly forbidden here. The punishment will 
be severe. 


Well that was good to know. “You've got some girl scout cookies for 
me to buy or something?” 


“| have an offer. Since you fled before we could finish our 
conversation.” 


“There was a reason for that.” A bead of sweat ran down her 
forehead. At first glance, he seemed relaxed. But there was a 
tension in the way he stood, like a jaguar watching its prey. 


He shrugged. “Unfortunately for you, | have little else to do today. 


Z : Hi... I'm sorry, this wasn't the voice | 
was expecting. Who is this? 


[REDACTED]: This is the [REDACTED] 
residence. Who wants to know? 


Z :I'm A (beat). You better tell me who 
you are, because | was expecting 
[REDACTED]. My wife. 


[REDACTED]: You fucking asshole! Do you 

think you get your rocks off calling people and 
asking for someone's dead parents? Assholes 
thought that was a fun thing to do after my dad 
died a few years back, and the day after | bury 
my fucking mom, you fucking ask for her? You 
fucking piece of shit. ((disconnection noise)). 


Conclusion: After this exchange, Crewman