Chapter 1 The Stranger

That morning, I didn't make it out in time to open the library. I was late, and the alarm clock didn't go off, or I didn't hear it. I jumped out of bed and put on the clothes hanging on the rack. I went down to the street and walked as fast as I could, trying not to trip-as fast as my old, bouncy leather sandals allowed me.

The cobblestones of Murra Kish were damp from the morning drizzle. The moss-green awnings were spread out, indicating that the merchants were about to open their businesses. Waving my hand to keep me from stopping, I greeted those who saw me pass by while enjoying the different aromas: Mrs. Amira's flowers, Mr. Mohamed's coffee, and Hassan's bread. I loved mornings, especially the damp and cold ones.

My mind returned to work, and I remembered that they must be waiting for me. I quickened my pace, and I could see the impatient students and the general public lining up. They looked from side to side, and when they saw my silhouette looming in the narrowness of the street, they gathered at the entrance. I felt a sense of relief: I ran across the square and lifted the lid of my bag to remove the heavy iron ring from which the three iron keys hung.

The collision of our bodies knocked the wind out of me. I was thrown backward, flying straight to the ground. As I tried to resist, I saw some people raise their hands to their heads and others cover their faces. Those images made me suffer before the inevitable: I received a sharp blow against the stone that left me motionless, stretched out on the ground, staring at the sky and trying to assimilate what had happened to me.

The initial impact was so unexpected that I didn't even see it coming. I assumed it was a man because of his height and weight, but I couldn't confirm it. A curious young man ran up to me, stood beside me, looked around for something, and then ran away from the scene. A girl offered me her hand to help me up, and I took a run. Standing up, I realized my bag wasn't beside me. Had I been robbed?

"My bag, have you seen it?" I asked the girl as I placed my hands on her shoulders.

"A man ran with your bag, and the boy followed."

"Which boy? I can't lose my bag; what I have in there is irreplaceable. Which way did they go?"

"They crossed that street," the young woman indicated anxiously.

I ran in that direction, and as I was about to turn the corner by the bakery, the boy was coming with my belongings.

We walked together, without speaking, catching our breath, to the large old door.

The boy stood behind me with the others, watching the maneuver I mechanically executed and noticed my small hands fitting the keys into the locks in a particular order. I felt the weight of his gaze and his breath against my back, but without hesitation I continued. Only after all three keys were in their corresponding holes did I begin to turn them one by one, from top to bottom.

"What happens if you start with the bottom one?" The question amused me, and, surprised by his powers of observation, I turned to see who it was.

"I've never been asked that question before. I suppose they don't open the locks; the truth is, I haven't tried. It's such an old door that I prefer not to take the risk and do just what I was taught."

Some people laughed; others considered it an abuse by the nosy boy.

When the door opened, I entered to turn on the lights and equipment, leaving the public waiting for a few minutes. When it was ready, I showed courtesy to everyone as we went through the security turnstile. The last one to enter was my savior.

"What's your name?" he asked. "I'm Alfonso."

"Hi, my name is Fátima. Are you new to the city? I hadn't seen you."

"It's a long story. I come from another country, called Blâwerenstein. I just graduated as a historian."

"So what do you do in the city?"

"I research books and rescue girls in distress."

We both smiled.

"You've come to the perfect place. This is the oldest library in the world. I bet you'll find more works than you can imagine." I opened my arms, gesturing to the grandeur of the place. "Changing the subject: I was going to thank you, but it all happened so fast," I whispered.

"Don't worry, the thief almost got away, but I ran fast." As for the book, I'm looking for one in particular, but I'll start by taking a quick look at what you have in front of you.

Alfonso zigzagged between the shelves, like someone unsure where to begin. Soon, he returned to the counter where he was hurriedly typing information into the computer.

"I don't want anything you have for the public; I'm behind a very old book. Where is that section?"

"I can't help you with that. There's a special area for those kinds of works, manuscripts, and other collections that, due to their historical value, are under lock and key. No one is allowed in there."

"I was wondering exactly that. Why do you open the door with three keys if we're in the Library of the Four Keys?" It seemed contradictory to me, but I didn't want to be annoying with another of my comments.

"You seem to be very skilled. Do you like wordplay? Or did you just come to question anything to start a conversation?"

"Both," he stated, smiling. "In six months, I have to travel to London to begin the Master's degree, and I can't do so unless I can verify whether that book exists and what its contents are."

"If you give me a clue, I might be able to direct you. What Master's degree do you want to pursue?"

"Master's degree in Magic and the Occult," he indicated proudly.

"Shut up, don't repeat that again. Those subjects are forbidden. What you're looking for is definitely not here; you're wasting your time."

"Don't be radical. According to the tracking I've been doing for years, a merchant brought it here in the 9th century."

"It's not possible. No one would bring a forbidden book to our land. It doesn't make sense."

"It does, precisely because it's forbidden. The merchant acquired it to remove it from circulation; he wanted to bury the knowledge it contained forever. It was the only way to ensure no one would read it. Keep it under guard."

"It would have been better to have destroyed it; it doesn't make sense."

"The book contains valuable secrets. He kept it because perhaps one day it might be useful to someone. Do you understand?"

"You're confusing me. Do you know that if someone hears you, I'll be in trouble?"

"I need to know if it exists; I want to have it in my hands."

"Don't count on me for that. I'm the custodian of the knowledge that rests here. I follow instructions from those who held this position before me, and I don't intend to step out of line."

"I'm not going to compromise you on anything; I'm just being honest."

"Then go check out what's available and let me work, okay?"

"Okay, I'll leave you alone if you agree to eat something in the afternoon and have tea. I'll give you more details later, outside your workplace."

"Okay, I'll catch up with you after the library closes."

"I'll wait for you where the sun rises above the obelisk, just before sunset."