He’d been pretty sure he was going to, but knowing you were going to and suddenly falling were different things.
He flailed, kicking his legs and shouting. The floor seemed a long way down. Why were the levels so far apart in this school? What if he broke something…
He landed while he was still worrying, both feet hitting the floor by some freak chance, and stumbled backwards until he fell into something.
He was… on a soft carpet, surrounded by bookshelves. In the Library, then? He slapped both hands over his mouth. He’d been shouting in the Library! He was going to catch hell for sure!
What was worse… he’d fallen into the Library. In the middle of the Library. If someone didn’t find him, he was going to end up late for dinner. Late for Timora’s mystery dinner date with hopefully-a-Ninth-Cohort.
And, really, to be pragmatic, he could be trapped in here forever, or until he found a door or a Door that got him out. Priorities.
A sign appeared in front of his nose. Please remember to remain quiet in the Library. The font was frilly, and the little sign was bordered with little purple flowers.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just…”
The sign vanished, and another appeared. Please refrain from lewd activity in the Library.
“Wait, what?” he asked in a hurried hiss. “I…” He was leaning against something, wasn’t he? He twisted to look behind him. “…Oh. Sorry.” The statue in whose embrace he’d been cuddled looked as embarrassed as Porter felt. “You should get her some clothes. Look, um,” the signs were from the Librarian, right? “Um… sa’Librarian?” That might work… please? “I didn’t mean to drop in like this, but I’m a little lost…”
A third sign appeared. Please refrain from becoming lost in the Library.
“I’m trying, I really am, but there was this Siren, so I dove overboard, and overboard happened to be here…” He flailed. “I open Doors, you see. But this place doesn’t come with a decent floor plan.”
The next sign that appeared was hand-written, still florid but without the decorations. “You open… Doors. Show me. This way.” And then a sign with an arrow.
“I, uh…” His dinner was getting further and further away. “Yes… ma’am? Sa’Librarian. What do you want me to show you?” He wandered in the direction of the arrow, avoiding the eyes of the statue. “Hunh. History. I’ve never found this section before.”
A sign appeared: a flower-wreathed stop sign. Porter stopped obediently, hoping that, somehow, this would lead to dinner. Somehow.
He was standing in front of a section of blank wall, about the size of a doorway, something he’d never before seen in the Library. The arrow appeared again, pointing at the wall.
“You want me to open this? All right, I can do that. I hope,” he added in a mutter. “But do you know what’s on the other side?”
The arrow simply pointed again and, sighing, Porter opened a Door and stepped through.
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