The Archivist (The Librarian Chronicles Book 2) Read online

  The Archivist

  The Librarian Chronicles II

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Text Copyright ©2017 Christy Sloat

  All rights reserved

  Published by

  CHBB Publishing, LLC.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Cheree Castellanos and Melanie Williams

  Cover & Formatting by Pretty AF Designs

  Letter from the author

  Hi reader. Welcome to the second book in The Librarian Chronicles. I wanted to write a quick little letter first to thank those of you who helped make The Librarian such a successful story. In the author community it really does take a village. We do not have it easy, so when we find dedicated readers, we know how precious those people are.

  This story is completely separate from The Librarian. You do not have to read book one to read book two. They are their own entities. While I do mention Emmeline in this book, you will not be confused by her entrance. There will be another book after this with a whole new story and new Librarian, so be prepared for more awesome time-traveling adventures.

  Some things you should know about this book before diving in:

  My teens are older teens, they are not children in high school and they sometimes curse and act like, well, normal young adults.

  Before writing this book, I struggled with the language of which they would speak, because many people in the medieval Scottish era spoke Scottish Gaelic and Pictish. I wanted to convey that they do indeed speak their own language even though I wrote it in English and didn’t put their dialect in the book. I struggled with how they would have conversations, because some Scot’s do indeed talk with accents. Ultimately, I decided to forgo the normal accents in the dialogue, because it would become hard to follow for the reader.

  This book was definitely hard to write. I didn’t want it to be compared to Outlander at all, because it isn’t anything like Outlander. Diana Gabaldon is a very talented author and her books are so amazing that many of them grace my shelves at home. When I began writing this story I wanted my character to go back in time to meet a real person from Scotland’s history, but I didn’t want the story to be scrutinized for taking on such a big task. So, I made my target, Sir Malcolm Walsh, similar to this Scottish hero. Let’s see if you can see the similarities and figure out who I was referring to.

  My character, Savannah, has had three names in this story. It took me that long to find a name I connected to! That has never happened before. But Savannah was chosen by my daughters and I just loved it.

  With all that said, I hope you enjoy Savannah’s story and her travels to Scotland.

  Dedication

  For my grandpa Kennedy who gave me my Scottish heritage. I honor you Grandpa and I miss your laugh.

  Prologue

  “Savannah, as a librarian you have been given a gift. One that not just anyone can handle. Most people wouldn’t survive the trip across time,” Mother explained as she played with my soft curls. I loved when she played with my hair. I was nestled up in my bed as she sat next to me. We were talking, again, about the gift of being part of the Bailey family. Our family was special, that I knew. I was a smart twelve year old and I knew how important this role was. The seriousness in Mother’s tone was enough to drive that home. The many talks about my duty were coming more frequently the older I was getting.

  “But when will I get to travel, Mother? I wish I could go now.” I did wish that. Often. I wanted to be able to see the histories of our world just like she explained. I dreamt of traveling across time to distant lands, researching important men and women, who helped shape our world.

  “I know darling, but you aren’t old enough. I explained that. The job has to be passed on to you. And when Grandma passes away that will be your duty. I am trying to prepare you for your responsibilities. But school is also important. So focus on that for now, while you can.”

  I hated to think about life without Grandma in it. But I knew that would someday be a possibility. She was old and old people died. Like Grandpa did. I’ll never forget his funeral and seeing his body in the casket. It was like looking at a plastic version of the man I used to know; it sort of looked like him but not quite. There were times I still couldn’t believe he was gone. Poor Grandma was lost without him. But Mother said she had her work to keep her mind off of it. She traveled more often to keep herself busy, and I think staying away from the reminder of him was her goal.

  Our family had a job to preserve the histories of the world. The Bailey family was vast. We stretched across America and some of us even lived in England according to Mother. She showed me on an old map that hung in Grandma’s study. My grandma, my mom’s mom, was part of a secret group of women called the Librarian’s. They traveled through time to make sure that the history of certain influential people was correctly written. Once we traveled the books we would preserve that history, and the Librarian’s job was done. Their purpose was to record the correct happenings in time, so that historians and writers didn’t mess it all up. Grandma once told me that historians liked to stretch the truth about their research, and that our job was to make sure it was true. As we traveled, every detail was written in the blank pages of a book, so that nothing was kept out or lied about. Whether it was the writings of the traveler’s guardian, or spontaneous writing while the Librarian traveled, it all became part of one big story. It still blew my mind at how it all worked. But then again, I had time to figure it out.

  Grandma showed me once how they sealed the books and sent them to a larger historical library. I was antsy and wished I could be part of the family business sooner rather than later. I hated being a child.

  “Savannah, I promise you, your time will come soon enough my impatient one. For now, just enjoy being a child while you can.” She gave me the smile that made me feel like I was just that; a child. I hated how she called me impatient. And I despised how she babied me, so I rolled my eyes and rolled over. “Savannah, don’t roll those eyes at me. I know you hate it but pretty soon you’ll be part of it all. I wish I was, trust me. I won’t be able to do what you do. The gift didn’t pass on to me. You have no idea how much I wish it were mine”

  There it was. The thing Mother always said to me. She wasn’t given the gift of traveling so she always ended each talk with that last sentence. She closed the door gently and I knew I was alone. I turned on my headlamp and grabbed the book that Grandma had given me a year ago. It was what she called my growing up gift. The leather binding was soft and tan. The front cover was just as smooth as I ran my fingers over the title. Traveler’s Guide. It was probably the most important thing anyone had ever given me. Even more so than the gold watch my dad gave me that used to be his father’s. This guide was everything to a Librarian. That’s what Grandma said.

  Opening the front, I flipped to the title page. The duty of a Librarian was clearly typed and I loved the font so much, I read it over and over. It read: The Bailey women have always had gifts of old magic, and it is with that magic that they chos
e to protect history. The society of travelers maintain, protect, and preserve history, which make the world what it is today. As a story-preserver you may need to travel millions of years back in time. It is your duty to capture every moment accurately. You may never go forward in time, only back. Your duty requires you to always wear your tether, which is usually a piece of jewelry, and to never remove it while you’re traveling. We’re not to interfere with the inhabitants or their lives. As a Librarian you represent your family. Remember that this gift is yours and shouldn’t be shared with anyone besides your protector.

  I closed the book and my eyes with it. I fell asleep imagining where my first duty would take me.

  One

  Reaching up I effortlessly placed the book back in its spot. I looked down at my pile of books to be shelved and mentally counted how many stacks I would be visiting today. Thirteen shelves on the main floor and twelve on the upper level was all I had to shelve today. The upper level floor was my favorite. It housed the best fiction novels in our college library. The lower level was mainly school books, history, and nonfiction. Not that I minded being on this floor; I just preferred being up top. I’d gladly shelve all the books, no matter the type. There was something about being with them that made me feel at home. I loved my job here and I fought for it, too. As a freshman I must have been here every day begging the media specialist to hire me as an aid; not even an assistant. I just wanted to help, to just be around the books. She said no every time. Her excuses changed each day I visited. It wasn’t until the middle of my summer vacation that she finally called on me. Her assistant had graduated and no one applied for the job. All the aids were happy being aids and I was the only one she met with such enthusiasm for the job. I had wanted it more than any of them anyhow. I knew it and so did they. Which is why I got the job. I was telling them what to do within two weeks of training. I was a fast learner and they hated me for it. I just ignored them and their petty jealousy. Being a book nerd is no easy task, but someone had to do it. So I stepped up to the plate.

  “Hey Savannah!” I looked down, startled at first, and saw it was Trevor Arnold. The hottest and most popular guy on campus. He made the All Star team as a freshman, not that I cared about football one bit. But I did pay attention to Trevor. He was the guy of my dreams, and every other girl in this library from the looks of it. They either fanned themselves because of the heat of the North Carolina sun or from the hotness Trevor gave off as he walked by. It didn’t matter what any girl was doing, they noticed Trevor. His body rivaled a god and his dark skin was like melted chocolate. He was beautiful. A dark-skinned man with light blue eyes and a fabulous personality that went along with it. Trevor really cared about people. He never hated on or was mean to anyone. His friendliness was addicting and it rubbed off on me. I’ll admit when I first started my freshman year I was in my Emo-phase. I was angry at the world and always so emotionally distant with everyone on campus. Then I met Trevor. He was one of my first friends here, just when I needed one, too, because I was feeling more alone than ever before. My mom was two hours away and I didn’t have a car to visit her or anyone from back home. My roommate was always out partying and that wasn’t my thing; not that I didn’t try. But remember the Emo-phase I mentioned? I didn’t do parties then, I read books and stayed inside.

  Now, maybe I’d do one or two but school is important to me and so was this job.

  “So, are you and I going to talk about this?” Trevor held up a paper that was marked with a huge A in red ink.

  “What is there to talk about? You asked me and I did it. It’s not a big deal, Trev. So don’t make it one. Okay?” I rolled my eyes and began the climb down from the ladder. I didn’t feel totally comfortable talking about this with him, but I didn’t regret doing it, because he was my friend. He was struggling and if he didn’t pass that exam, he would fail Lit. I couldn’t do that to him. I had the brains and I’d practically written that paper in my sleep. What’s done was done.

  “Savannah, you aren’t my friend so that you can write my Lit papers. You’re my friend because I like your company.” He flashed those pearly whites and I stopped climbing. I wondered all the time why I wasn’t more than a friend. Didn’t he notice that I liked him? He had to.

  “Just say, ‘thank you, Savannah’ and go back to class.”

  He softly rested his hand on my shoulder and said, “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” After a quick hug he was gone. As I watched him walk away a feeling struck me inside. It was one I tried to ignore millions of times, but it kept coming back. No. Trevor wasn’t using me. He wouldn’t do that. He’s a good guy. A great friend who just needed some help with his Lit paper. That’s all. It’s a one-time thing and I’d never do it again.

  “You know he’s using you, right?”

  God. I just wanted to shelve books and then … well I had things to do after everyone left. Jessa Walsh insisted on being that little annoying angel on my shoulder. If Trevor Arnold was the most popular guy on our campus, then that made Jessa the belle of all of North Carolina. She was the epitome of southern charm. Her adorable face and rocking body made all the guys fall at her heels. And she was my friend. I liked to look at her as my friend that I never asked for. She just came with the job. Jessa was the only one who worked with me that didn’t hate me for my position. You could say we were thrown together; literally.

  “Shut your hole, Jessa,” I said, passing by her with my cart. “You’re just jealous that Trevor doesn’t want to be around you anymore.”

  She laughed, and it sounded like little ringing bells. “His loss, Savannah. You know that he could have had me, but instead he went for Lacey Halston, and then Ariana Black, and then—”

  “Okay! I get it. He likes girls. All girls but me. Let’s not throw it in my face, okay?”

  She followed me to the elevator and squeezed in between me and the huge cart. She was wearing a dainty little dress with Keds and she pulled it off so well. Me, I was not a dress girl. I tried very hard not to wear them. Not even to weddings or fancy outings. Jessa once asked me to a ball that her family hosted and I wore pants. I don’t care. I am who I am. My body wasn’t small or petite by any means. I am curvy and fluffy, as I like to refer to it. Other people call me husky or chunky. That’s okay. I used to be heavier than I currently am and they didn’t know that I lost fifty pounds my senior year of high school by going vegetarian, and that’s fine. I looked at myself as real. Jessa dieted constantly and her body didn’t change. When I dieted I lost a whole toddler. So now I maintain and try to help Jessa feel better about what she looks like; which is so royally fucked up. You know that there is something wrong with our world when the skinny girl has an eating disorder and the curvy girl goes to town on a veggie burger and fries.

  “Savannah, girl, you are beautiful. You’re too good for him. He’s using you for your brain and you let him. I don’t understand it, but it’s your life.” She threw her hands up in her cute little way. I loved when Jessa got frustrated.

  “Yes, Jessa. This I know. It’s my life. What are you doing here anyway? You’re not due in for two more hours?” I asked as I looked at my phone.

  Only Jessa would come to work early. “We’re still doing it tonight?”

  I nodded and the doors opened exposing the second floor. “Yes, just go home. You don’t need to be here.”

  She hugged me and I left the elevator. “I don’t know how you stay so calm about it all. I feel antsy. Maybe I’ll go to the gym to calm myself.”

  I snickered. “Yeah I’m the one who does all the work and you’re antsy. Weirdo. Yes, go be calm at the gym. Goodbye, Jessa.”

  I pressed the button and the doors closed. Jessa was like a hamster, always moving. I sighed and rolled my cart to my favorite stack; fantasy.

  Was I nervous about tonight? Yes. I always was. But it was my duty and I had to do it. No one else here understood that besides J
essa. They all thought that I was nerdy Savannah Preston. Underneath this lovely exterior was a girl who could literally change the world. I wasn’t just working at the library because I loved books. No, it was more than that. This library housed something very precious to my family. Two years ago my grandma sat me down and talked to me seriously about my future. I had been waiting for that moment since I was twelve. She told me that I was more than just a Preston. I was also a Bailey and I held a gift to travel through time. When she died last year, I had been given a job that involved more than just going to college. I was now the new traveler and my duty was mine to have. I looked down at the bracelet that once graced her arm. It held a special jewel that held the power to tether me to this time, no matter where I was in the past, this bracelet kept my physical body here while my spiritual or mental body was in another place in time. To say it was precious was an understatement. If I were to lose it, I wouldn’t be able to safely travel back to my own time and my physical body would be pulled back in time. I’d be risking being stuck and that I couldn’t do. It could alter the future by doing so.

  I began shelving the fantasy books, many of which were checked out to me, and I tried not to worry about my task tonight. Even though Jessa saw a calm woman standing before her didn’t mean I didn’t get nervous about traveling through time. I just hid it way better than she did. I took a deep breath in then let all the air out of me. With it went the stress that followed me around all day like a ghost.

  ****

  “I got us smoothies with kale!” There was something so wrong with smoothies made with vegetables. Jessa knew I didn’t like those two things in combination, but she always bought them for me. She held up the green cups of goo and followed me down the stairs. We had been meeting in the library basement after every shift we worked. The only times we didn’t meet was when we had class or days off. This way we knew the basement was clear of prying eyes. Jessa had just finished her shift and let me in after she locked the doors. We both made sure that the whole library was clear and we headed down stairs. I found this little section in the basement when I was looking through a box of books for the media specialist, Ginger. It was the perfect space for Jessa and I to work and we claimed it as ours six months ago.