Pierce woke up covered in sweat. She was in an unfamiliar bed with a damp cloth pressed against her forehead. Her cloak had been removed, and most of the fastenings on her clothes had been loosened. Her head was in pain. Stamina blowback was a could happen when someone under the influence of a potion stopped pushing themselves before it wore off.

Pierce sat up, causing the towel to fall into her lap. She started refastening her clothes. She began to look around. The room was dark, but her night-vision had already kicked in. Decorations were sparse, blank walls, no windows. There was a room attached to this one, which looked to serve the purpose of cleaning oneself and human waste management. Hovering above her head was a large flattened metal sphere with a flat black seam going around the middle. Hanging on a hook on the wall was her cloak. She got up and started walking toward her cloak.

“You’re awake.” Red lights traveled the circumference of the flying diskmatching the cadence of the feminine voice.

Pierce turned toward the origin of the sound. She wondered if the object itself was speaking or if it was merely a conduit for communication. The thing had four mechanical hands dangling below. They reminded her of arms she had seen tinkerers use. There was no residual magic on the object. She believed this was something known as an automaton. “Who are you? Are you a puppet?”

“My name is Aurora, the librarian.” The object tilted forward as if to bow. “I don’t consider myself a puppet. But it is certainly within the realm of possibilities.” This oddly human response amused Pierce.

Pierce walked over to her cloak and reached into her pocket. She managed to hide her dismay as she discovered the stolen staff topper was not there. She turned toward Aurora. “How did I get here?”

“I found your unconscious body. I checked your vitals and brought you to this boarding room to apply first-aid. Are you okay?” Her voice sounded naïve but intelligent. Pierce was unable to discern if it was being honest.

“Yes, I think I am fine. My head hurts a bit.” She looked back at her coat. “Did you take anything out of my pocket.”

“Oh, no, no, no. I checked for identification to see who you were. There was resistance when I did this.” Aurora flew over to the bed and opened a panel. There was a glass of water and a tray. She took the water and the tray, which had two pulls on it, over to Pierce. Pierce took the glass. She looked suspiciously at the pills. They didn’t hold any magic, but they could still be some sort of poison. “It’s okay, they are for your head. You will be able to think clearer when the pain is gone.” After a brief pause, she decided getting rid of the pain was worth the risk and took the pills. “What would you like me to call you?”

“I suppose you could call me Pierce,” she responded. Her head was clearing remarkably fast for a non-magic remedy. She didn’t know where she was other than a library. She could be anywhere in the world. She had assumed the portal would take her to meet the Boss. Nothing in the area was magical, except there were artificial lights everywhere. There was a machine floating around giving her medicine. She had seen tinkerer’s do amazing things with steam. She had seen using something they called ‘lectricity.’ None of this matched.

Pierce walked over to the bed and sat down. Aurora flew over to her “Pierce,” she said taking the big sister position on the bed. “You don’t know where you are, do you?” Pierce considered for a moment. She decided a lie would neither be convincing or useful. She shook her head. “You used a spell to open a rift. This rift was intended to cross realms. I don’t know if you realized that.” Her tone was oddly comforting. “When you make a rift that crosses realms, there is a lot of danger involved. There is no way to actually know what is on the other side of that rift. The fundamental rules that drive a realm may not match which could lead to cataclysmic consequences if they connect. This library was built to prevent that.”

Pierce considered for a moment. “What do you know about my realm?”

“I understand your physics as well as any educated person in your world. We have a section of books from your realm. Many of your reference books contain spells. We also have individual scrolls that contain magic. Beyond that, I know little of the politics and customs but I can help you find answers to any questions you may have.”

Pierce stood up on the bed to bring her head level with Aurora’s. Aurora lowered slightly. “When you found me, was there anything else?”

“I don’t think I saw anything else. My memory is entirely reliable.” She opened several compartments on her head. “Do you see what you are looking for?”

Pierce peered in. After a moment of looking, she shook her head. There were books and some odd trinkets. The object she was looking for was not there.

Aurora closed all her hatches and looked back at Pierce. “If you would like, I can assist you in locating your object. Perhaps we could check the lost and found.”

Pierce jumped off the bed and walked over to her cloak. “I think I want to do my own investigation first. Is there a way you could point me to where you found me?”

“Ah, yes. You need a library card.” A small piece of paper came out of the lower half of her head. She pulled it the rest of the way out and handed it to Pierce. “This library card has a map of your surroundings. It also allows you to contact me if you need assistance. And best of all, it lets you check out books!”

Pierce looked down at the paper. She did not see the map. It contained her name, listed as Pierce. There was also her address, which happened to be listed as Realm 721. She looked up at Aurora who gestured for her to turn the card over. On the back of the card was blank. She turned it over again, and the map was visible. She was in a boarding area with four suites shaped like a clover. They were joined at the center by an eating area. Outside of the living space were large rows of bookshelves broken up by small areas with names like Steam Punk, Garden, Advanced Technology, Mirrors, and Doors.

“You would be looking for the Orchard, I believe,” Aurora said. Pierce scanned the map for a moment before finding the Orchard not too far away.

She looked up at Aurora and said, "Thank you." Aurora made a small bow toward Pierce. "If I need you, what do I do?"

“If you ask the library card for assistance, I will show up. Will that be all for now?”

“I think so.”

Aurora made another bow and exited the room. Pierce examined the library card again. She was concerned that the card could track her position. She flipped the card over. This time the words “Privacy Policy,” were written at the top. She looked through it. There was a section specifically on the subject of tracking. “This information is used solely to improve user experience. It will not be sold or transferred.” There was another section that stated, “In the event that library policy Is violated, this card will be disabled and will no longer operate.”

Pierce placed the card on a nightstand next to the bed. There were probably a number of ways to track her inside this place, but she didn’t feel the need to make it easy. She grabbed her cloak and walked into the bathroom. Most cultures she had encountered valued privacy in washrooms, and she hoped that reduced the chance that there were watchers in there.

She started emptying her pockets onto the floor. There was a slingshot, with various ammo types. Some were designed to make noise and attract attention. Others made to put out lights. She even had some for the sole purpose of breaking things. Quite a versatile tool.

She pulled out a small case made of the same scrap leather that made up her clothes. She unrolled it revealing a set of small rakes and tensioners that make up any good lockpicking kit. It included a small notebook that contained information about locks she had encountered. Most neighborhoods were serviced by the same locksmith; she could make short work of most locks, once she cracked the first one. She rolled the kit up and set it aside.

She removed a rigid leather tube from her pocket. Inside there were three rolled up pieces of parchment. She removed the first one. After unrolling it, she looked at it very carefully. There was a faint image of a circle on it. She turned it in the light and made out six indicators pointing inward at a smaller circle. She shook the paper. A hint of magic dusted off it, but there wasn’t enough to be useful. She sat the scroll aside.

She removed a second paper from the tube. This one had a clear image on it. A swirling striped circle was on it creating the illusion of an endless tunnel. A thin coating of magic pulsed around the scroll. She removed a magnifying glass from her kit and peered closely at the paper. She could see the fibers that bound the paper together. They were stretched, and some of them were breaking apart. She let out a sigh and shook her head. This had one more use before becoming trash.

The third and final piece of paper was completely blank. She moved it in the light just to be sure. When she shook this one, no magic came off. Close inspection revealed almost all the fibers to be broken. She was caught off guard when her cloak had worn off earlier. Examining the quality of the paper, she was surprised that it had been effectual as it had been. She gave the parchment a good pinch. The area where her fingers pressed in had darkened significantly, and little black puffs of magic expelled out of it.

She stood up and tore the paper into strips, dropping them into a nearby water basin. She was fortunate that there was a stool in the room for her to stand on. She pulled a little bit of magic into the palm of her hand and snapped fingers. Nothing happened. She attempted this a few more times. This was fundamental magic that most adept children could do. She closed her eyes and tried again. Instead of watching the mist flow into her hand, she imagined it. When she snapped her fingers, she felt the shock of the spark and the heat of the flame. She quickly opened her eyes and ignited the strips.

There was black smoke coming off the smoldering paper. Pierce waved her hand through the smoke, causing small pieces of dust to fall out of it. As they fell, their shade changed from black to white. She took a deep breath, and blew the smoke, dispersing it around the room. When she did so, the powder rain intensified, falling onto the ash below. The process didn't take long. The fire was out, almost as soon as it had started. She got the empty bottle from her pocket and put the ashes inside.

She returned everything back to her pocket and hung her cloak on a hook next to a set of towels. She stripped off her clothes and stepped into what she assumed was a place to clean herself. She ran her hand across two knobs. One was marked with ‘hot’ in red print and ‘cold’ in blue. She turned both as far as they would go. Ice cold water daggers hit her first. After a few seconds, the temperature normalized to a slightly too hot.

It felt good. The water coming down was clean and refreshing, as the water coming off her was full of grime that had built up. She used a provided bar of soap to lather up. Cleaning oneself was a rare luxury, and often that was done with some sort of magical enchantment. Water this pure wasn’t a commodity that was readily available. She saw some bottles on a platform in the corner. She looked them over and saw they were for cleaning her hair.

She stepped out of the shower. She dried herself off and looked down at the pile of leather rags on the floor. It was a pity she would have to put those greasy things back on her clean body, but she had no other options. A place like this, which seemed to have everything, probably had some sort of laundry, but she did not know where it was, or how long it would take. She needed to get moving.

She quietly exited the room into the greater library. She paused briefly to take in the immensity of the place. She was used to feeling small in worlds not built for people her size, but she could imagine even someone Georgette feeling small in a place like this. The cases, which appeared to be made of heavy wood, stretched nearly to the ceiling. A librarian’s assistance or some other elevated conveyance would be required for most people to reach most of the shelves.

Pierce was not very comfortable with the overhead lights leaving few shadows for her to hide in. She scurried along the floor, looking around like a curious kitten simultaneously awed and scared by the world around her. There was a moment where she regretted leaving the library card behind, knowing she could become lost at any moment. She shook off the feeling, not trusting the card not to betray her at a crucial moment. She didn’t plan on being up to no good, but being up to no good always seemed to find its way into her contingencies.

She came up to a cross-section. Bookcases were arranged perpendicular to her current direction, cutting her off. She remembered her destination was to the left. She wasn't sure if she had come far enough, or even to far to find the orchard. She sniffed the air. The aroma of old leather-bound books glided into her nose. She could detect notes of metals and other materials that were reminiscent of her time in Tinker Town. She focused and took another breath. The faint smell of apples was there.

She started following the shelves to the left. She stopped to smell periodically. The scent grew stronger. The bookcase pathway broke into a large area. There was an ornate oval mirror standing in the center surrounded by fancy chairs and benches. Magic flowed off the mirror, creating a gentile mist that extended just shy of the perimeter of the area. The magic was foreign to Pierce. The texture was wrong. The color was wrong. The sound was wrong. The smell was wrong. The magic was wrong.

She paused just outside of the area. She knew she needed to pass through here, but was uncertain as to the safety. She reached her hand in and attempted to manipulate the magic. It did not respond. She felt no sensation from the magic as her arm passed through. She pulled back and observed her limb. None of the magic attached itself to her. It seemed as far as the mist was concerned, she wasn’t there.

Including where she stood, there were eight exits out of the area. She decided to go forward. She moved the zone with uncanny speed. Her head pivoted around, peering down each untaken path. When she passed the mirror, she saw she had no reflection. She continued without dropping her pace until she was on the other side. She sniffed the air again. She could not tell if the apple smell had changed. She had feared it might have gotten weaker. She thought about the library card, sitting on a table in her boarding room.

She continued through the corridors of bookshelves. The amazement that had overtaken her when she had first seen them was almost gone. The fear had grown to replace it. There was a sameness to everything that made it hard to navigate. There were no landmarks. The floor never changed from the paved stone. The sections weren’t labeled. There was no “you are here,” sign that she had seen in some large parks and other establishments. As she wondered about the place, she encountered more T-junctions. No longer sure of where to go, she decided to continue making lefts. She hoped that making circles would get her back to the living space she was in earlier.

There were more display areas. She started to think of them as shrines. Each had an object in the center. The most common were doors and mirrors. There were some windows and a few tinker devices. They all had decorations. Some had magic, but never the correct magic. One of the shrines was built around eyes. There was a large eyeball sitting in the center. Surrounding it were dozens of eyes suspended in the air. Each eye followed her. There was judgment in those eyes.

She took regular smell checks, but those got useless very quickly. The smell of apples would grow and recede, seemingly at random. There was a cacophony of other aromas that intruded, making it difficult to distinguish. Floral aromas, metals, woods, and other materials mixed in. She abandoned the technique when sewage joined the rest.

She had once gotten lost in a shifting vault. It was considered foolish to go in there without a key-map, but it seemed easy enough to get in. She wondered around for hours, stumbling across bodies of people who died from starvation. An old man who subsisted on rats and other remains made clumsy attempts at attacking. Most of the bodies she came across had their hands torn apart as if they were holding something violently taken away from them. She realized that she was clutching tightly to a piece of loot herself. When she had returned her prize to the center of the vault, and abandoned her thievery, the pathway opened before her. She realized now that she had failed to learn her lesson. She had a key-map in hand, and she left it in her room.

The shrine with the mirror caught her eye. She understood now she was already lost by the time she made it that far, but she was less lost than she was now. Her legs were tired from scampering about, but her pace picked up as she moved toward the mirror. When she arrived, she decided to take a few moments to sit and think.

Her muscles started to acknowledge the pain as soon as they were no longer in use. She was eager to find food or a place to rest but was not particularly eager to begin moving again. It wasn't a good idea without a plan in place. She hoped that someone would be along. The librarian perhaps could carry her back to her room where she could regain her strength.

The first question she had to answer was, "is this a shifting palace?" She looked down the eight pathways that led away from the mirror. Outside of the shrines, she had on encountered T-junctions, and none were at the half-turn necessary to support such an arrangement. This could mean the place was shifting. There was also the possibility that there was warping, or bending along the corridors that was not noticeable.

After she sat for a minute, stretching and rubbing her sore muscles, she stood up. She picked a bookcase at random and began scaling it. The shelves were sturdy and she was light. Newfound purpose powered her legs as she climbed to the top. There was enough space for her to stand up and look around.

The view was disorienting. The board she was standing on was straight and seemed to go on forever. She could see no walls and no horizon. The other shelves she saw bent in unusual ways. The two neighboring shelves stopped converging after a bit. The library was bent in unnatural ways, but it wasn't shifting. From here she could make out some landmarks. To her left, she saw a waterfall pouring from the ceiling. To her right, she saw an airship. She turned around, facing exactly the opposite direction. There was a beam of energy shooting into the ceiling on her left. A thunderstorm was brewing on her right.

She climbed down. A map was drawn in her mind with the mirror shrine at the center. She used the four points, waterfall, airship, thunderstorm and light beam as her compass. She ran down the path, looking down any open halls to her right that might lead to her boarding room. Eventually, she encountered a barrier in the form of a bookcase, challenging her to turn either left or right. Instead, she climbed the bookcase again. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw her navigation points were approximately where she had expected them. She climbed back down and reversed course back to her center.

She moved clockwise around the paths, repeating this procedure four more times. Then she saw what she had hoped was her room. She started running toward it. Even at this speed, the hum of the lights was loud enough to overpower the noise she made. When the room was less than twenty yards out, Aurora descended from the ceiling and in front of her door. Pierce slowed to a walk. She was breathing heavy as she approached.

Aurora handed her a bottle of water. “Did you request help?” she asked.

Pierce swirled the bottle and carefully examined the liquid inside. “No.” She took a sip of the water.

“If you need assistance, you can always ask. It’s easy to get lost around here, especially if you aren’t carrying your library card,” Aurora said knowingly. “Also, we care about your safety here at the Crossroads Library, you really shouldn’t climb on shelves.”

Pierce was uneasy with this statement but hit it. She smiled at Aurora, “I am actually quite the tumbler, plus my cloak adds protection. I’d have to try to hurt myself if I were to fall. I am more concerned about the lack of navigational markings in this place. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of those weird shrines were dangerous.”

Aurora shifted left and right a little. “I’m never quite sure of the intentions of the designers of this place, but the lack of markings has been touted as a feature and not a bug. There are plenty of options to the wayward explorer in the heart of the library, such as the Library card I gave you, as well as asking for help. The Rift Centers, or shrines as you call them, are mostly benign. Again, the option to call for help is always available.”

Pierce simply nodded at this. She had passed through several shrines and none of them posed any danger. The word ‘mostly’ bounced inside her head. After dealing with grifters and thieves for most of her life, she knew wiggle words when she heard them.

“If you don’t need my assistance, I think I am wanted elsewhere,” Aurora said.

“I think I got it, thank you.” Aurora floated off leaving Pierce standing in front of the door alone. She reached out and grabbed the knob. It turned freely in her hand, but the door did not budge. She began examining the handle while reaching in her pocket for the lock picking kit. There was no visible keyhole for her to pick. The knob attached to a large black box that she assumed interacted with the library card and allowed the door to function. She looked around the seam of the door. There wasn’t enough space for her to get something under the door, or to push the latch aside.

She moved her kit to her other hand and reached back into her pocket for one of her most prized possessions. She pulled out a pair of goggles that she had gotten from Tinker Town. The dealer told her they were made from a pair of spectacles that had traveled from a distant land. They only worked in places where magic was thin. They required regular doses of energy to maintain functionality. She put them on attempted to activate them. Nothing happened. In frustration, she put them back in her pocket.

Since the heist, she hadn’t had a good moment of rest. Being knocked unconscious from stamina blowback wasn’t the same as sleeping. Her innate magic mist hadn’t recharged, which prevented her from performing any hefty spell. Telekinesis, one of the few pieces of magic she could cast with regularity, was off the table for the moment.

With her good options exhausted, she reached in her pocket and pulled out the vial of blue liquid. She stared at it for a moment and thought of all the setbacks she had faced on this day. Stamina-blowback rendered one unconscious. A speed potion overdose could leave on lethargic. A sudden loss of strength can render one unable to lift their own body. All of these side effects could be overcome in a few minutes. In some cases, they lasted for hours. But they all ended, and very rarely in death. Trying to infuse oneself with magic via potion can cause it to crack and sour. One would be become cursed. Every spell they cast would have that dark touch, or they may be unable to cast magic at all. The only upside is the rarity of this particular type of failure. The question was, based on the events of the day, is this worth the risk.

She sat down, leaning against the door. She swirled the blue liquid in the bottle. Magic swirled inside like glitter. Drops of the mystical power fell down like sparks from a firework. Luck was an interesting thing. It was hard to measure. One could roll a dice several times, but luck had no impact if there were no stakes. If there were stakes, constantly coming up high would be suspicious. If this led to a brawl, one could not say that it was good luck. Conversely, winning a prize that was more trouble than it was worth could prove to be bad luck. Thus far, her day had been full of setbacks, but without knowing the full context of those setbacks, it was difficult for her to judge where her luck was.

She felt like this was her only choice. She started guzzling the liquid. It was cold and tasted sweet. She felt the liquid enter her stomach. The hairs on her arms started standing and her cloak lifted itself away from her body. She felt some of the excess energy discharge from her body. She put the empty bottle back in her pocket.

She put her hand by her hip. She turned her head away from her hand and closed her eyes. She could feel the excess energy pulsing through her body. She carefully hot cast a telekinesis spell. There was a satisfactory thud in her palm. She opened her eyes and looked down at a disturbed blue cloud surrounding her hand.

She pressed against the door. The blue mass shaped itself into a hand a passed through. It was always easier to move something with magic if you could see, but it wasn’t difficult to imagine what the knob on the other side. She visualized the spell grasping the knob and giving it a good turn. She heard the latch release, and the door was open.

Once the door was open, she began prepping dispel magic. The white spheres started accumulating around her. The excess mist needed to be burned off and dispel was her most consistent magic. Once she no longer felt wired from the potion, she stopped casting. She found her library card quickly and checked the mirror for signs of the curse. Her aura looked normal.

She reached in her pocket and removed one of the scrolls. The parchment still had that faded circle on it. She traced it with her finger. As she did so, the image darkened. She traced each arrow next, then finally the inner circle. The image was clearly visible. The freshly energized piece of paper had a turbulent aura. She watched it closely to see if it pulled in any particular direction. It danced and tugged toward the exit of the room, like a flame seeking air inside a cave. The anti-tracking spell was now tracking its target. Pierce smiled at the irony.

She exited the room, this time with her card in hand. She wondered how many times she needed to learn the lesson, “never go into the unknown unprepared,” before it stuck. Pierce separated small amounts of mist form the scroll and had it floating in front of her. Mystical entanglement linked the source of the magic to its target. The floating ball of energy flickered as it was pulled to its partner. With a little bit more confidence, Pierce began following.

After a few minutes of navigating the corridors of bookcases, she came to a shrine decorated with extravagant gold furniture. There were piles of gold coins everywhere. In the center was an ornate bottle lamp encrusted with jewels. It had a mist reminiscent of storm-clouds. There was uncorrupted magic swirling around with the cursed magic. It slid around the surface, not quite interacting much like oil and water. To Pierce's surprise, none of the magic glossed any of the nearby surfaces. The beacon she had been following flew above the lamp and began showering sparks on it. The broken magic reached up and began roaring like a fire with fresh fuel.

Pierce walked over to the bottle and reached out to it. As her hand got close, the white magic reached back to her. She pulled her hand back. Someone had felt the need to use this bottle as a safe to protect the valuables that had been taken from her. With no signs of warding or a mechanical lock, Pierce did not think too highly of the person. At best this was puzzle box security. At worse it was protection by curse. Neither were very secure methods. The object was a lamp, so the first thing she did was light it. Focused on the shiny item, she had no trouble with the small flame spell.

When the flame ignited on the lamp, excessive amounts of black smoke started billowing out. Pierce stepped away from the bottle for clear air. The cloud started forming into a muscular torso. Arms appeared and finally a head. The apparition stretched began stretching its body as if waking up from a long sleep. Slack chains rattled from the wrists all the way to the bottle. There were millions of tiny threads surrounding the chains made up of the darkened magic. Three ropes made of the white mist latched themselves onto Pierce. One around each arm, and one around her neck.

She looked up, eyes sharp, at the face of this force. The thing looked down on her, eyes made of white light. "You have awoken me from my slumber. I am the Genie of the lamp, and I offer you three wishes!" The bonds surrounding the chains all lit up as they said this. "There is but one rule, I cannot affect the chain of events that led you here! The past...is forbidden to me!" The Genie's tone shifted from boisterous to somber as they gave their opening statement. Every move and gesture they made was well-rehearsed.

Pierce touched the rope around her neck. The Genie squinted his eyes in confusion at this gesture. Even if the Genie couldn’t see the ropes, they had to be aware of the implications. She moved her hand back down to her side. A dispel flowed down her arm and turned into a knife in her hand. “I have questions, but I am not quite sure if I want to ask them.”

The Genie manifested a table with a crystal ball in between them. With a poof, the big Genie disappeared and a small one took their place. They looked Pierce in her eyes and said, “Do you wish for answers?” Some of the threads binding their arms lit up with this question.

Pierce shook her head. “Answers are easy enough to find if you look hard enough. I wouldn’t want to waste my wishes on something so trivial.”

"Trivial? Knowledge can be scarce and powerful. Want to know the secret to defeating your enemy?" The lights shot through the threads as they spoke. "Want to know the whereabouts of something you lost?" Pierce's eyes shifted quickly away from the Genie and back again. "Ah yes, something you lost is it?

“I have indeed lost something. I believe you may help me get it back, but I don’t think I need to wish for it.”

“You think you are clever?”

“I know I am clever. Moreover, I know you are clever, perhaps more so than I. “

The Genie bellowed a deep laugh. “Yes, clever. Perhaps we should move on. What is it that you wish for, if not the item you seek? Power? Wealth? Immortality?” With each word, different threads lit up.

Pierce smiled. "I’m not sure what I would do with any of those things.”

The Genie made the crystal ball and the table disappear. They began pacing from side to side. The smoke became turbulent.

“Maybe things would be quicker if I could ask questions without the fear of wasting my wishes. I mean, caution is advised, so I really need to know what I am in for.” She looked at the chains on the Genie’s wrists. “It is a wonder why you are so eager to get me to make my wishes. Once done, you would return to your prison.”

"You could give me my freedom. That would be a rare gift." Pierce watched as a decent portion of the threads lit up. Contrary to what the Genie wanted her to believe, she didn't think this was a rare gift.

"Freedom? That would be quite a gift." Using one of the dispel charges, she manifested a hack-saw. The Genie observed the saw with bemusement. The blade had no problem removing the chains. "Now you are free. No longer beholding to me, my wishes, or the bottle that holds you." The real chains, the thousands of threads, still bound the Genie to the bottle. The ropes still bound Pierce to the Genie.

“Yes, you are clever and kind.” The Genie strutted around. “I still have the power to grant you wishes. And you have earned your three.”

“No, no, I don’t need anything magical. I could use answers. Since you are free, you shouldn’t be tempted to turn a question into a wish.”

Angry swirls decorated the Genie’s torso. A big smile adorned the Genie’s face. “Of course, unless you seek secret knowledge. I will gladly answer all your questions without taking a toll on your wishes.”

Pierce readied her dispel-dagger. "I'm glad we could clear that up." She beamed a smile at the Genie. "Do you have my prize item?"

“No, I do not, but I could fetch it if you wished it.”

“Do you mind if I examine your bottle?”

“No, I don’t mind at all. I mean, it’s no longer my home.”

Pierce walked over to the bottle and picked it up. “Is there anything in here?”

“Not anything that was ever in your possession.”

She grabbed the scroll in her pocket and held it close to the bottle. She watched as fingers of magic from the bottle and the scroll reached for each other. Pierce let out a frustrated sigh.

“Anything I could help you with?”

“No, what I am looking for isn’t here.” She reached up with her knife and severed the magic rope around her neck.

The ropes around her arms shifted to replace the one she had just caught. The shrine started to fill with cursed smoke as the Genie puffed to a new size. Red eyes burned into Pierce as they moved their head within inches of hers. "What did you do!?" they roared; their mouth was now filled with sharp angry teeth. Pierce looked back without blinking, and without retreating.

“I am ending this farce. You can’t kill me without a wish, and I won’t make a wish so long as you threaten me!” She reached up to slice a second rope. It danced out of the way of her hand.

“I called you clever, I was wrong! You are nothing more than a foolish child!” The Genie laughed. “You can’t get rid of me. Make your wishes!”

“What was it? What made you so foul? How did you end up in that bottle?” She asked.

“Do you wish to know? I will tell you if you wish it!”

“I wish it.” She observed black tendrils crawling up the rope.

"I was but a man, a long time ago. I wanted power." Within the growing threads that still bound the wrist of the genie, one glowed brighter than them all. "I was given a wish; it was held in that bottle. I made the wish, one that would give me more than anything I could imagine." The rope blackened with each word. A fresh knife had appeared in Pierce's hand. "I wished for all the wishes. And I was bound to that bottle, cursed forever to serve others." Pierce started stepping to the side. The Genie followed her like a dance partner. "But with each wish, I got more powerful. I stole their souls, and someday I would be powerful enough to break my bonds and rule." A burnt smell rose off the rope as it was close enough to touch her skin.

“You understand that your bonds strengthen too? Each soul ties you to that bottle?” The curse started spreading around her neck.

“You lie!” The Genie’s head touched Pierce’s. Her head did not move, but her hands were quick. She reached up to sever the rope. The Genie quickly shifted the cursed rope out of her reach and down to her ankle. She sliced the clean rope, where it quickly returned to the Genie’s body. Before the Genie understood what had just happened, a pair of scissors occupied her hand. She reached out and cut the bright string. The Genie turned toward the bottle and roared.

The storm started retreating into the bottle. Pierce quickly freed her leg. She looked at the ankle where it had been attached. The darkness was receding. For a moment, everything was lost in the unstable winds that surround her. When senses were restored, there was little left of the shrine. The lamp lay on the floor, now bare of magic. Also laying on the floor was a naked man. Pierce could hear the whimpers coming from him.

Pierce walked over to him and touched him on the shoulder. He rolled over and sat up. She could see his bones through his skin. “You are free now,” she said. “Truly free. There may be enough magic in that lamp that you can return to it. Start over. I suggest not doing that. Take the hospitality of the library, get your body healthy if at all possible.” She held out her hand to help the man up. He took it. He smiled, but the smile was sad.

“Aurora!” Pierce called out. “Someone needs your help.” She barely let out a breath before Aurora was behind her.

“What is it I can assist you with?” She asked.”

Pierce turned to face her, “Can you help this man find food, clothing, and whatever else he needs to see tomorrow and beyond.”

Aurora looked the man over. She examined the destruction of the shrine. “Sure, I will get you a mobility device,” she said to the man. “I have word on your object, Ms. Pierce. It was picked up by a drone from another realm. Your library card should lead you there.” She handed Pierce a book, “And here is the material you requested.”

Pierce took the book, having no recollection of requesting anything. She bowed to Aurora and then embarked once again into the library.