294/ Guess

Ashildr had dreamt of Clara. Running around the manor, chasing after Caten who had gone missing. A draft and a number. Her book rustled excitedly, but Ashildr had stood up and followed down a corridor by instinct. A bookshelf stood where it had always been standing. Suspiciously inconspicuous. As if pretending not to watch her every step.

She looked back at the books. Mathematics, numerals, philosophy and astrology. Weird mixture, she thought. Two books were missing from one row.

On the ground, one book was lacking the dust on its cover the others had been accumulating for decades.

The slightest of drafts passed her by, nearly unnoticed if not for the tiny chill she felt on the side of her neck. This was no ordinary bookshelf.

She picked up the clean book and noticed scratches on the floor.