I Don't Want to Be the Hero Vol. 3 by M.E. Thorne

Author:M.E. Thorne [Thorne, M.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-17T20:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

After healing up, we did a quick sweep of the reference desk and the immediate area. We confirmed all the golems, not just the ones by the botanical wing, had been affected by the spell, driving them into a feeding frenzy.

Thankfully, without the lash of magic commanding them, they senselessly ate and destroyed the things around them rather than trying to hunt us down.

I found one golem gnawing at an old textbook, worrying it like a dog at a bone. Another kept trying to eat a banister, its clay fangs dulled from chomping at the wood.

Scrapple found chasing down and destroying the things to be great sport, so I teamed up with him and Krencha to hunt down as many of them as possible. In the meantime Annowan worked with Daggerdare to determine exactly how far the holly sprig’s protection radiated, setting up the perimeter of our camp.

Annowan didn’t fight like herself down there, I worried. Normally she was at the forefront of our group but always fought in a controlled manner, guiding the tides of battle. But today she waded in there like she just wanted to smash something.

We had decided that we needed to abandon the guest rooms we had been using since they were too far from the holly to ensure our safety as we slept. Gilly and Thalie moved our supplies to the suite, along with the beds.

“This was my mother’s private quarters, while she stayed here,” Annowan explained, as she jabbed the flames with a poker. “I have no idea why she wanted a fireplace, I guess she thought it was romantic, but for once I am glad for her eccentricities.”

After returning from our golem hunt, we hunkered down by the hearth, grateful for its warmth and the protection provided by the holly spig.

I glanced at the shelves. Unlike the items we had seen in the display cases, these seemed to be more personal. Journals and diaries, rows upon rows of worn stones and rocks, bundles of dried flowers and feathers. I felt like I was in a bird’s nest.

Looking more closely, I saw that there were no images of Annowan or Lilith, nothing to indicate the previous resident had any family or attachments outside their work and their adventures.

Annowan stabbed the burning logs harder, sending out a shower of sparks. She had been morose since the battle.

Looking for a distraction, I asked, “Was the Curator able to tell you anything about that weird magic, or what may have caused it?”

“No,” Annowan put the poker down. “With the catalog offline, it can’t bring up any information about the contents of the Library. We’ll need to clear the problems in the biological and dwarven history wings, then it should be able to restore most of its functions and we can shut down the self-destruct.”

“I’m all for a glorious death, but I have no interest in being blown to pieces by this place,” Krencha said from where she sat, leaning up against a snoring Scrapple.

“We’d evacuate before that happens,” Annowan said stubbornly.

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