She clicks again and the ancient printer next to the desk whirs to life. “As far as I can tell there were more books in the original donation, it’s possible that they were too fragile for circulation or damaged. These twelve are what’s out there, maybe the one you have is a second volume of something?” She hands Zachary the printed list of titles and authors and call numbers.

She clicks again and the ancient printer next to the desk whirs to life. “As far as I can tell there were more books in the original donation, it’s possible that they were too fragile for circulation or damaged. These twelve are what’s out there, maybe the one you have is a second volume of something?” She hands Zachary the printed list of titles and authors and call numbers.

ссылка, а тут жирный, а тут обычный, зачеркнутый

Zachary places the golden key from Mirabel’s necklace in the statue’s right hand. He puts his plastic hotel key card in her left hand. Nothing happens. Zachary sighs. He is about to ask the cat if it is hungry and is questioning how firm the “don’t feed the cats” rule might be when the buzzing starts. It comes from within the statue. A buzzing, humming sound. The woman’s stone fingers begin to move, curling closed over the keys. A single bee tumbles from her arm and onto the floor. There is a scraping sound, followed by a heavy mechanical thunk. But the statue, keys clasped in her hands, does not move again. Zachary reaches out and touches her hand. It is closed around the key as though it had been carved that way. Nothing else has changed, but there was the noise. Zachary walks around the statue. The back of the stone chair has slid down into the floor. The statue is hollow. There’s a staircase below her. At the bottom of the stairs there is a light. Zachary looks back at the cat sitting beneath the feet of the hovering marble fox, curled in a multitude of tails. The only tail that twitches is the cat’s.