Secrets of the Hidden Library - 3rd Annual Fiction Competition. (COMPETITION OVER - winners on Page 3!)

She walked down the stairs, black armor glinting, red lips smirking, twin venom blades clinking together softly, master of her domain. She stormed into the ancient room, her pride allowing no other option. The light from the stairwell barely pierced the ancient and dust filled room. Vast bookshelves filled the seemingly endless room, stretching into the darkness as far as even her keen vision could strain. The shelves rose up into the darkness overhead as well, seeming to reach towards the sky like creaking and decaying trees. Each shelf was filled to overflowing with tomes, pamphlets, scrolls, and bound volumes. Some were small, bright,a nd seemingly freshly minted. Others were caked with dust and bound with micro chains of darksteel, secured by ancient geneto-locks to guard what ancient secrets they contained.

Archon Isme Hy'till, of the Kabal of Shrouded Knowledge gazed imperiously into the gloom, her red tinted eyes glittering, and her breath catching slightly in her throat as she remembered her last two times in this place. It was a place of power, this Hidden Library, it was a place of secrets, and knowledge, and twice now it had served her purposes. But was she fooling herself? Was it too easy? Was it all a snare? Certainly the Library had helped her, certainly the strange and enigmatic Librarian had served her twice to save her life and claim her power. But was there a hidden price that she did not yet understand? Was there a hidden risk?

Isme considered her options. She was beset by foes on all sides. Her usurping of the former Archon of Shrouded Knowledge had gone smoothly. Her pawns had been in place, his pride had been his undoing, she had cut apart his supporters, and claimed her prize. But there had been other complications, other Kabals and Cults and even Covens and scattered street gangs that had been part of a network of power within which Shrouded Knowledge lay. The old pacts had been shaken, and the other organizations had seen opportunity to increase their power. She could feel their tendrils closing in, with every Kabalitte who disappeared down a darkened side passage, with every merchant whose tithes suddenly grew thin, with every offer of a raid that passed over her Kabal. They were picking away at her, clutching at her power, at her prize, and slowly trying to tear it apart piece by tiny piece.

"Librarian!"

This, she could not allow.

"Librarian!" Her voice echoed out as she strode into the room. She had left behind her Incubi, left behind her court of assassins, bodyguards, ne'er do wells, and cutthroats. None could be trusted to know the secret of this place, and if the Librarian was fearsome enough to slay her she doubted a few extra blades would make the difference, for whatever the Librarian was, he was either a helpless servant, or something far more deadly and terrible than she cared to divine.

"I know you..."

The voice was as dry as aged paper, as soft as dust flitting over exposed skin. As always it came from the darkness, and seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"The little Dracon, how fine your armor is now, how full of life, you seem to be drinking oh so deeply now, can I take it you bear a new mantle?"

"I do," she placed her hands on her hips, "and you would do well to remember it."

"I remember," promised the voice, "I remember everything."

Isme swallowed slightly, something about the words not reassuring her much. She would need to do something about this thing, assuredly she would have to. Find some way to make the Library inaccessible, hide it away better, destroy all who knew about it and ensure that the Librarian was trapped for all time. But, first, she still needed his (its?) advice, one last time.

"My Kabal is beset by foes within and without, I need to know how best to yoke them to my will and control them!" She clenched her fist eagerly at her words, her momentary fears forgotten.

"Control? Yoke? Contain? Subsume? You want something, more and more you want it, you want it within, you want it under your sway, you are so hungry, you are so...thirsty. Yes, I have many tales of thirst. Thirst for power, for blood, for pain, for...control. Yes, your thirst shall be quenched by knowledge, I am sure, at least for a time."

Isme knew better than to argue with the strange being, and could already hear it in the distance rummaging through its shelves. She turned and began walking, knowing she would find neatly collected bundles of books near the end of each shelf, and also she new that in them, somewhere, was the one that would have the hidden nugget to help her understand her current problem. She just needed to learn about thirst.

Isme began to read...