Free Cat's Quill by Anne Barwell

to that, the other paled into insignificance. "Although the past and future are also something worth exploring," she added, indicating the bookshelves with one hand.
    "The past is still gone," Tomas said firmly, not prepared to back down. "Books are just a record or a way to dream; they aren't reality." He had spent his life being very careful not to confuse the two, even though as a writer that was often easier said than done. His characters were not two-dimensional, and while working on his novels, he had woken several times caught between sleep and wakefulness, sure that he had almost crossed that line, reaching for something or someone who did not exist apart from within his imagination.
    "Nothing is truly gone if it is not forgotten. Words keep dreams alive, the same way that if we don't forget someone, they never truly die." Phoebe shook her head. "I would have thought that you, as a writer, would know better." She smiled. He tried to look away but couldn't. "A close friend told me that a very long time ago. We make our own reality, Mr. Kemp. It's something this generation needs to remember."
    "I am making my own reality," Tomas said, her words echoing, the voice not hers but the sentiment still familiar.
    Daisies and circles. Cathal had said the same thing in regard to Christian and Alice.
    Tomas smiled in spite of himself. Perhaps this library did hold some answers. "Would it be possible for me to borrow some books? I can join the library if that is a problem."
    "You can use my card," Donovan said. "Right, Phoebe?"
    "It's against regulations," she frowned, "but rules are meant to be bent. Broken, however, is another matter." Pushing her glasses up her nose, Phoebe was suddenly all business. "I will issue you a temporary card. After all, you will be with us a while, and I will not stand in the way of a quest. There are dragons to be slain and worlds to be discovered." The ginger cat Tomas had seen earlier leapt onto the counter, sat on one of the books, and washed one paw. Phoebe gave it a pointed look and was ignored in favor of its other paw. "Find what you will and bring it to the counter. If you need any help, let me know. I'm afraid our computer system is down yet again, but we do have a card catalogue I can access for you. Technology is only as good as it is allowed to be." She glanced at the cat again and sighed. "Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do."
    "Actually there is," Tomas said. "Something you can help me with, that is."
    "Yes?" The less-than-impressed look Phoebe had been giving the cat was now directed at him.
    "The staircase in the foyer," Tomas began.
    "That collection is not available to you yet. Anything else is fine to borrow, but those do not leave the library." She glanced at his bag. "Nor are they read by those I do not know. Trust has to be earned, Mr. Kemp."
    "Fine." Tomas shrugged. He had only been going to ask what was up there, nothing more. Phoebe seemed to have an odd interpretation of how libraries worked. Books held by them were to be shared and were owned by the community, not the librarian. He pondered the wisdom of pointing this fact out to her, caught a glimpse of Donovan miming his throat being slit, and decided against it. "I suppose by the same token asking about the tapestry would be a waste of time too."
    "Knowledge is something that also needs to be earned." Phoebe smiled. It was unnerving. Somewhere in the past few minutes Tomas had crossed some kind of line and ventured into the weird. "It was a gift from our patron.
    She--" The phone rang, the high, shrill sound interrupting whatever she had been about to say as she lifted it from its cradle and held it to her ear, nodding in response to the person on the other end.
    "We'll come back later," Donovan said hurriedly, pulling Tomas away. "She's way possessive of her books," he explained when they were out of earshot, "and especially the collection upstairs. Apparently only a few people have ever been up there."
    "She