1. The Librarian

1

THE LIbrARIAN

H e walked in with all too much confidence for a man of his stature – and a human, no less. I’d helped dozens of different monsters before, all with their unique quirks and characteristics, but the humans I met numbered in the hundreds. Humans always exceeded the proportion of monster clients. This one was nothing special, but that didn’t matter as long as his soulmate was already in the pages of my book of matchmaking.

He stepped up to the counter and extended a hand. “Hi, I’m Nico,” he said. “Nico Ross.”

His nails were short but neatly manicured and painted with a light brown polish that shined brilliantly in the warm library lights. His hair, dark and straight, was slicked back with too much product and his eyes were a soft, warm brown.

I took his hand, which was soft and gentle, and gave it a shake. “Hello, Mr. Ross. What brings you into the library on this fine spring day?”

“I want to use your matchmaking service.”

“Ah, yes. Let me guess, you would like to be paired with a monster?”

Nico smiled. “Of course. Who doesn’t want to?”

“Oh, they exist, as do monsters who are uninterested in humans. But, fear not, I have many monsters waiting for their mates and many more certain to join them in the future. If you will simply follow me, I shall take you to the matchmaking room where we can fill in your application in complete privacy.”

“That would be amazing, thank you!”

I led Nico to the back of the library, past towering bookshelves and corners with plush velvet chairs and stacks of books beside them, stopping at one particular shelf in the back that was a darker brown shade than all the others. I fiddled with some of the books on the shelf till it shifted, revealing the short, narrow passage to the matchmaking room. Nico looked in awe at every little thing I did, which I tried not to pay much mind to. Many of the people I helped were aware of the process, but even more people had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

“Tell me, Mr. Ross, what do you do for a living?” I asked.

“I’m a chef – well an assistant chef, but I’m on my way to running my own kitchen.”

“How delightful. Do you enjoy your work?”

“Yeah, but it can be stressful. That’s why I’m looking for an outlet to release some tension in my life, if you know what I mean.” He winked at me and nudged my arm.

I smiled politely. I was used to comments like this by now, though they never got any funnier or cuter. “Yes, I’m sure I do. Well, let’s get started on that application, shall we?” I entered the passage first, gesturing for him to follow me.

He stepped inside, looking around curiously while I gathered some empty papers to write his information down on. The only pieces of furniture in the room were a small table, and equally small chair, and an old bookshelf that had been removed from the main floor of the library long ago.

“This is a nice little spot,” he said.

“Yes, it is,” I offered up absentmindedly. “A bit stuffy, though, which is why I use it solely for matchmaking profiles.”

Nico rubbed his hands together and glanced over my shoulder at the papers I held. “That makes sense. Now, just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”

“All I need is for you to answer a few simple questions. First: do you prefer men, women, something else?”

“Men. I’m only interested in men.”

“All right. And does any particular age interest you?”

He shrugged. “Not really. I like older guys, but I like younger guys too. Truth be told, I haven’t really dated since college, so I’m not sure what I want anymore.”

“I understand. What about the physical appearance of your preferred match? Do you like tall monsters, short monsters, athletic, chubby, dark hair, blue eyes? All those sorts of characteristics fit into this category.”

“I actually do want something specific.” His gaze trailed down to the shiny wooden floor, his cheeks suddenly flushed.

“Go on, tell me. I won’t judge.”

“Well, the monster I’m looking for has green skin, a couple of extra large teeth, and is taller than you and me combined.”

I furrowed my brow. “You want an orc?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

“Well, I must tell you, matching with a specific monster is incredibly difficult. It’s possible, but it may take years.”

“I don’t mind waiting. What I have in mind is worth waiting for.”

I took a deep breath, hoping he didn’t mean what I thought he meant. “Most monsters using this service do not appreciate being fetishized, Mr. Ross. Casual hookups abound, yes, but they are always respectful and understanding. What you’re searching for might be better found on certain dating applications outside of my realm.”

Nico glanced up at me again and smiled. “I know,” he said sheepishly. “But I’ve always wanted to be with an orc. It’s not a fetish thing, I promise. It’s just that I’ve heard they have big…hands…and I’m curious to know what that’s like. And I’ve tried those apps, but I’ve never found an orc on them – not once.”

“Very well. Please understand that your eventual match might not see it the same way, though, and there may well be some tension regarding your desires.”

“Don’t worry, I understand fully. It may not work out, and I’m okay with that. I’m still willing to give it a shot, though. I’ve heard about the work that you do and your success rate is wild. If anyone can help me out, it’s you.”

I scribbled a few notes on the paper before sliding out the big book of matchmaking and thumping it down on the table.

“Very well. I’ve ascertained all the information I need from you, so we’re done here for the time being. I’ll be in touch with you should you receive a match, and until then, I hope you don’t mind exercising a little patience.”

Nico winked again. “I don’t mind at all, and thanks for your help today. I hope I hear from you soon.”

I sighed. Had he listened to a single word I said? If he hadn’t there was nothing I could do now, so I began flipping through a few pages of the book searching for a potential match and pausing only to say goodbye to Nico as he left. When I looked back down, I realized it had been directly in front of me all this time.

“Mr Ross, wait!” I waved him down before he exited the library, pushing a small sheet of paper into his hand. “This is your match.”

His eyes widened. “What? Already?”

“Yes. Trust me, this is the one.”

“And is he…”

“He is. His name is Cyrus P. Cartwright and all the information you need to contact him is written on that slip of paper. Good luck, my friend. You’re going to need it.”