The world warped around the pair as Clover’s foot touched the first black stone. It felt like they were submerged in water. The air around them was cool and thick. They could hear murmurings. Miki opened her eyes and saw a smoky view of a marketplace that surrounded them. People passed by in giant turbans, boxes overturned for makeshift stalls, and lots of sand everywhere. She closed her eyes again, scared she shivered into Clover's arms. 

"Don't worry," Clover whispered. "We're nearly home." 

Clover jumped. Instantly the scene was gone. A path of pale light lay beneath them stretching seemingly into forever. It disappeared when she landed on the next stone. A new blurry image formed. They were in an alleyway, a stray cat yowled, startled. It crashed into the trashcan it was on. “Sorry kitty,” Clover mumbled. She rubbed the white stone she had in her hand and threw the it on the ground in front of them. It shattered and white powder swirled in the air. 

They jumped into it. 

Clover and Miki landed in the middle of a living room. The white powder, now a thin mist, faded away around them. 

"You can open your eyes now." 

The last rays of the day’s sunlight streaked in through the gaps through the cream blinds of window. It illuminated small rows of light on the brown carpet floor, narrowly missing the feet of a woman on an old green couch.

“Maman?” Miki said, staring at the woman with her hands on her face sobbing silently.

The lady looked up and cried out “MIKI!” Her mother fell out of the sofa. She stood up quickly and dashed to the outstretched arms of her little girl. Clover handed the girl over. 

“It’s okay, you are home now,” Clover said.

The mother and daughter cried into each other’s shoulders calling out to each other again and again. Clover stood away from the pair watching the touching reunion. It was the best part of the job. 

A long while later Clover walked out of the apartment breathing the air in, congratulating herself on another job done.

A passing breeze slammed her light brown hair onto her face. Elegant, she thought, pushing the hair out of her black eyes. So tired... Let’s go back.

She travelled using the directions Miki’s mother gave her, until she found the nearest public library. It was a large grey building, three floors in all. Perfect.

She went inside. A little bell at the door tinkled. The balding receptionist did not bother to look up or ask for a library card. He kept his head down to his phone, silently mumbling to himself; slightly hidden behind a sign on the desk that had the many rules of the library printed in black ink in a font that no one cared to read.

There was hardly anyone in the library. Clover’s boots made soft clacking noises on the hard stone floor as she walked up the stairs to the second floor. There seemed to be no one around. Piles and piles of large grey metallic bookshelves filled the room from floor to ceiling. She walked up and down the rows of bookshelves and kept on walking, turning corners over and over until her feet hurt, keeping her thoughts calmly fixated on her destination. 

She walked and walked until she finally she entered a row filled with dusty old books and a carpeted floor. On the shelves were dark leather bound books no one touched in years. It was hard to see the end of the row, but onwards she went, down the row until she reached a little nook at its end.

Low bookshelves lined its walls. Attached to the shelves were cushioned benches, with more books arranged haphazardly below them. Blackened windows at the top of the shelves allowed in a little bit of light.

Clover kicked off her boots then plopped down on a small red armchair behind the little desk that sat in the middle of the nook.

On top the table are books upon books, each bookmarked. There are a few sheets of paper with writing on them, carefully positioned to look as though they were important, strewn across the table as well. Clover picked up a dark green book on the top of the book pile, opened it to its bookmarked page and began to read.

Minutes later someone walked down the aisle.

His heavy footsteps are the first thing Clover noticed, but she did not bother to look up. He touched the dusty tomes as he walked on, creating a streak in the dust on their covers.

“Nice set up you have here,” he called out when he was a little closer. His black boots made deep dents on the dark maroon carpet.

He grinned at her when he reached; stooping intimidatingly over her, the top of his blond hair shining in the little light the room had to offer. He was tall, nearly touching the nook’s overhead lamp.

“Woven into the fabric of dimensions. Hard to find if you did not know what you were looking for. I’ve heard the rumours of this place of course. Keep walking within a library till you reach a carpeted floor and at its end you’ll find the one who looks for things lost..." he trailed off his words but kept on focusing his gaze on her. 

She doesn't look up. 

"It's been awhile hasn't it Clover?”

Clover grunted and glared at him. “What are you here for?”

He pulled up the small wooden chair and twirled it on its back left leg till it was facing him, and sat down on it, leaning his elbows on the back of the hair.

“Little old me?” he cocked his head and flashed a handsome grin. “I... have a job for you.”