“Maybe he pecked eyes out of someone like the pigeons in the Cinderella tale,” Axel said. “You know that story, right?”
Loki nodded, missing Charmwill glimmer—but not missing Pippi Luvbug so much. “I’ll have to ask Genius Goblin about all that, later,” Axel said.
“If you say so,” Loki brushed a spider web out of the way. “Why are these corridors so dimly lit?”
“That’s the way libraries are everywhere,” Axel whispered, not turning around. “Each library is camouflaged, hiding the real library inside it somewhere, which can only be reached if you walk the darkest aisle until the end.”
“Are you saying the dim lit aisles are made to keep normal people away?”
“Indeed. No one walks a dark aisle in a library to its end, especially when it gets pitch-dark. People are scared of these dark aisles but they don’t talk about it. It’s very scary if you ask me, but there is a reason for it; the dark leads to the real library. “And why is there a real and unreal library?” Loki whispered, following Axel.
“The unreal library has the forged books everyone is reading nowadays. The real library contains the most important historical books written about fairy takes before they were forged,” Axel said.
“I don’t buy this crap,” Loki said.
“I do,” Axel insisted. “I read a theory about it in the forum, and I believe it. The history of the world has been forged to conceal the truth from us. I read that every nursery rhyme, song, lullaby, and silly fairy tale has clues between their lines, but we have to decipher them to discover the truth.”
Loki didn’t comment. Axel was too enthusiastic about his nutcase theories, so he let him talk. Maybe he’d end up telling him something useful to help him reveal the vampire princess’ mystery.
“I heard there is a war between storytellers in the world; between those who forged the tales and those who want the truth back,” Axel kept walking. “The original texts are buried somewhere in the darkness of libraries all over the world, only for those who want to know the truth. Not all of the truth has been documented, though.”
Axel’s melancholic theories reminded him of Charmwill who had always talked about the fact that fairy tale characters were real enough they could bleed. The fact that he kept the fairy tales he knew locked inside a book that turned into a parrot was enough evidence to support Axel’s theory.
“The more we delve into the library, the more we’ll breathe the dust of books that haven’t been used for centuries,” Axel said. “So don’t resist inhaling the dust,” he stopped and turned to face Loki who was about to laugh hysterically; Axel was wearing goggles. “The dust in the darkest part of the library contains the magic spell that will lead us to what I want to show you.”
“Listen,” Loki said. “I don’t mind your nonsense, but I can only take so much. You’re crossing the line of rationality.”
“And entering a haunted castle to kill a Snow White vampire princess was rational to you?” Axel mocked him, adjusting his goggles. “Trust me. It’s Fable’s idea. She’s the one who told me about the secret library. She found out about it in one of her mysterious books, the ones full of spelling mistakes.”
Loki couldn’t argue now; he trusted Fable, even if she was a bit off her rocker like her brother. “Why are you wearing goggles?” he said.
“I’m prepared to inhale the dust of the dark, but I don’t want the dust to hurt my eyes.”
“And you think the dust won’t hurt my eyes?”
“How many times will I have to tell you that you’re not a nerd? Only nerds wear goggles. You’re a good looking vampire hunter. Nothing bad should happen to you. It’s only miserable guys like me who run into a series of unfortunate events all the time,” Axel said and started walking again.
Loki coughed slightly after inhaling the dust, but kept walking. They reached a point where it felt as if they weren’t in the library anymore, as if they had walked through a portal of darkness into another dimension. Loki hated dark aisles in libraries; he’d always thought they were creepy and ghost infested.
When it became too dark for even cats to see, Loki flicked on his Zippo lighter.
“Not now,” Axel turned around, and clicked the Zippo lid back down.
“You don’t like my windproof Zippo pocket lighter?” Loki frowned.
“It’s not the Zippo. It’s your brain that I don’t like.”
“It’s a Don’t Fear the Reaper Zippo. I love it,” Loki flicked it on again, messing with Axel.
Axel blew the flicker of fire dead then clicked it shut again. “Not yet. Stop talking, and follow me.”
“Whatever you say, Holmes,” Loki rolled his eyes, and followed him into the dark. The floor felt as if it could barely hold their weight.
“Stop,” Axel said, striking his own Zippo to life.