A Study in Spirits

by Byrd Nash

  Jib explained, its mouth full of gummy cheese.

  “Outside is neither fae nor human. It’s from another plane. Another dimension of existence.”

  “Those exist?” asked Em astonished. “Aren’t alternate universes from fantasy books and video games?”

  “No, they are real, though it’s rare for Earth to have contact,” said Celia. “For example, the Perilous Realm, where we fae reside, closely overlaps the Human Lands. However, while the PR touches other worlds, the Human Lands are rather isolated in that respect. Not much inter-connects here.”

  “Are you saying we’re a dead-end?” Em demanded.

  “Yes,” said Granite, nodding. He hastily added upon seeing Emma’s reddening face, “But very interesting! The Human Lands are always top on the ten best places to visit.”

  “So it’s from Outside,” mused Celia. “That’s unusual. It’s rare for something to crossover to here, unless it travels first through the Perilous Realm.”

  Brigit finished with her chips, said, “Whatever it is, we need to stop it.”

  Helping Hands

  Everyone believed something needed to be done about the monster in the library. The problem was in the method each one preferred.

  Celia and Emma believed it was up to the administration to handle it. Brigit, who felt the pain of the books keenly, was ready to storm the building and use her necklace to behead the monster. Logan remained neutral during most of the conversation. Granite said he would go along with whatever the majority decided.

  Jib’s ignored most of the conversation. The cat’s interest was all directed towards Em’s small companion. To save them all the embarrassment of having one of their companions attacked and eaten, Logan faked a yawn, calling a halt to the discussion.

  “We all have classes tomorrow. We need time to think this over before we take any action.”

  “Before you go —.” Brigit gave first Granite, and then Emma, a considering stare, “I want you to know I call Expletus to our Fiats. You were right, Em. There is something nasty in the library. And Granite, our Fiat is finished. I appreciate your help back there. However, the Fiat between myself and Chad is still ongoing.”

  “I’ll let Chad know, Brig,” said Granite. He couldn’t hide a grin at her words. Before the fae could stop him, the wrestler picked Brigit up in a big bear hug, swinging her around in a dizzying series of circles.

  “Good to know you’re still my little sis.”

  They all headed back, Celia and Em sitting together on the bus, with Logan and Brigit behind them. Granite’s quarters were on campus, so he gave them a wave as the bus pulled away from the terminal.

  During the bus ride to downtown Brigit and Logan were quiet, lost in their thoughts. Feeling the tension, Jib snuggled down between them, trying to comfort them with its purrs.

  At the apartment, the dryad would have gone straight to her room, except Logan prevented her. He didn’t touch her physically, but his words stopped Brigit.

  “I do agree with you. We need to protect the library. But we also need time to think this over, do some research, find out more about this thing before determining the best course of action.”

  “I hope you don’t think the administration at LOTTOS will do anything,” Brigit said in a weary voice.

  Being a fae princess who had seen how her parents conducted their justice gave her a poor opinion of authority. The entire ride home Brigit’s heart ached from the terror the books felt being devoured. She would be their champion regardless of what the others decided.

  “Remember, Leopold Ottos did nothing to save you when Sibyl trapped you.”

  At her words, Logan gave a short, harsh laugh. He was also tired.

  “I wasn’t school property,” he said cynically. “But the library is an important part of the university. It’s the heart of the university and carries a lot of prestige. There is no way the Herr Schubert, the Rector,” Logan used the title of the human person in charge of the university, “will allow the destruction of valuable property. Or that Chancellor Bandemer, right after a big party celebrating the library, would permit it. You’re not thinking straight.”

  Brigit rubbed a hand over her forehead, and her tight, black curls flattened, bouncing back when she removed her hand. A headache started, feeling like a wire tightening around her forehead.

  “You’re right. I know you’re right, but I can’t get the screaming out of my head.” She bit her lip. She rubbed her temples. “It hurt, Logan.”

  Logan would have liked to hug her, but she had warned him numerous times never to touch her kind. He had gotten away with it earlier when she was scared, but he doubted she would tolerate it now. It irked him that Granite had the freedom to comfort Brigit when he could not.

  “What I suggest is we meet up again after class. Go over to the library. Check out what’s being done by the administration.”

  “I agree with the bard, princess,” said Jib. They were standing in the living room when the púca jumped to the back of the sofa to be closer to their eye level. “A smart general makes a strategy first. We want a fatal blow when we strike.”

  “Exactly,” said Logan, using his art of persuasion to get Brigit to agree. “From the encounter tonight, we know the truth can act as a shield, a protection. We know it doesn’t like boring, dry knowledge. But when did this thing manifest? Why is it only in the library? What are its weaknesses? How can we destroy it?”

  Brigit bit her lip, looking back and forth between cat and man.

  “You both promise to help? Even if Celia and Em won’t?”

  “Yes,” Logan said, “I do promise. But we need to know our enemy better.”

  When Logan woke in the morning, he smelled the rich flavors of coffee and baking. Having a house brownie made life pleasurable indeed. He was glad Brigit had convinced her to come to their apartment.

  When he entered the kitchen, he didn’t see her. He knew from Brigit that noticing the brownie, or commenting upon the quality of her work (good or bad), could lose him the Kindly One.

  Yet, it just seemed wrong not to thank her in some way. To adhere to the contract of having her services, and to assuage his conscience, Logan usually dropped a tidbit of gossip. He knew the fae loved to know stuff like that.

  “Celia’s new apartment is coming along. After we took up the carpet and painted, she’s put down floor rugs. Very artsy. But not, of course, as nice or tidy as our home.”

  Logan sipped his coffee. Perfect as always.

  “I think Granite has taken Emma as another little sister. Emma is Celia’s human roommate.”

  A Scottish brogue came from behind him. Logan was careful not to turn and expose her to his gaze. Ignoring brownies were the only way to keep them.

  “Och aye, that laddie does love the lassies.”

  After a long pause, when she said no more, Logan took his drink and cinnamon roll out to his patio. While the sky was overcast, it was warm enough to enjoy the start of the day by sitting outside.

  Looking over the railing, he saw, not for the first time, Brigit in the small communal garden of the apartment complex. She was standing among the potted bushes and flowers. Stroking and talking to them, he had no doubt.

  He squinted against the rising sun. From the corner of his eyes, he caught the fluttering movement of black wings. A crow landed on the railing of his patio. It was the smallest of a family group he had met last spring.

  By surviving the siren’s spell last year, Logan had won his wager with them. As his prize, one of them visited him every day to give him news from around Geheimetür.

  What Logan had quickly learned was crows had no filter. A shiny piece of ribbon was as fascinating to the birds as overhearing that Rector Schubert was increasing school fees. It had taken weeks for them both to figure out what the other wanted to discuss.

  Zonda, the smallest and youngest of the family group, was today’s morning’s messenger.

  “So tell me all the latest,” Logan said, sipping his
coffee.

  “A big ruckus at the abbey library,” Zonda cawed. “They’ve closed the building for the day. Lots of activity. Not sure what it’s about.”

  “I have some ideas about that.” Logan opened up the container he kept on the porch for birdseed. He held out a hand with sunflower seeds. Zonda picked them up with her beak, careful not to peck him, as she cracked them open.

  “Do tell? Or does the gossip not run both ways?”

  Logan knew how much the crows loved to be the ones in the know, so he told her an abbreviated version of his adventures last night.

  “Kaw! How intriguing,” said the bird. Her black eyes shined with interest.

  “I’ll tell you more when I know it. For now, I’d be grateful if you kept an eye on things over there.”

  “Certainly. It’s a favorite hangout. Has an excellent view and a wonderful updraft to use for flying games.”

  The rest of Zonda’s news was about trifles: students who the crows were harassing for dumping trash, and a favorite tree losing a nest because of a broken branch.

  “Hmmm, hmm,” murmured Logan, thinking over the news and wondering if any of it was significant. Probably none of it, but he liked the birds coming by, having a fondness for corvids since his early childhood.

  Zonda cocked her head inquisitively to look at Logan and then cocked it to observe Brigit.

  “How’s the roommate situation going?” the bird asked. All of the crows thought it bizarre that the human nested with a fae. It was unusual, and they especially liked anything that stood out from the norm.

  “It’s fine. Brigit has some things on her mind.”

  The bird used one foot to move its place on the rail closer to Logan. Seeing Zonda’s interest, Logan added, “It’s part of what happened in the library. I’ll share more when we get it all sorted out. It’s a bit muddled up right now.”

  “Did you know she met with Paul, the chancellor’s Doppelgänger? They had a row.”

  “I didn’t know Paul worked for the chancellor? What do you mean by that?”

  “Didn’t you know the Doppelgänger is the chancellor’s right-hand man? Of course, they try to keep that secret, but nothing escapes our keen eyes.”

  Logan thought this over and finally said, “That must have been about Granite using her ID.”

  Zonda gave an amused disbelieving deep chuckle from the back of her throat.

  “Was more than that. She owed him a favor for bailing you out last spring. In exchange, the Doppelgänger wanted her to snitch on you all. Be his spy. He has dozens of them throughout the campus. They all report to him so he can run to the chancellor with the news.”

  Logan was surprised. He didn’t know that Brigit owed a Debt to Paul for his help, but he should have guessed. She had never said why the Doppelgänger helped last semester in freeing him from the siren’s spell. When he tried to question her, Brigit was evasive.

  Logan wanted the crow to tell him more but decided not to ask. The birds were master meddlers and enjoyed drama. Brigit did not want to confide in him, and he needed to respect that.

  “One of ours was just flying by on patrol, waiting to see if any college student would drop something interesting when he just happened to overhear their discussion. Didn’t seem like she was happy to see him. Or happy to fulfill his request. But she didn’t outright deny him the help. Watch your back.”

  “Ah,” said Logan, over the cup of his coffee. Things were falling into place about why Brigit had been so angry with Granite. He knew she didn’t like being obligated, especially not with a responsibility that was more of a liability. She was also wary of Paul due to the strength of his magic; owing him a favor would not have sat well with her.

  The crow continued croaking.

  “Then he hauled her off to the library. She didn’t look happy. That’s all I know at this point. Haven’t seen the Doppelgänger since, but he’s a tricky one to track. We’ll keep an eye on your nestmate, naturally.”

  That put some things into perspective. Brigit was trapped by obligations to her bondmates and Paul. All because of Paul’s help last semester. She should have come and told him about it.

  Because of him, and his problem with Sibyl, Brigit incurred a Debt. It wasn’t right that she shoulder it alone.

  “Thanks for the info. I appreciate it.”

  The crow gave a bobbing nod, grabbed some more seeds, and dived off the rail to sail away.

  Looking down over the railing, Logan saw Brigit grab her backpack. She took the direction toward the bus stop.

  It was up to him to resolve her bond Debt with Paul.

  The next day, when Em went by the main library, she was not surprised to see the closed sign. She had wondered what the librarians would do when they saw the damage to the books and the toppled bookshelves.

  Shouldering her sling pack, she headed to one of the other auxiliary libraries located elsewhere on campus. Emma wanted time to think over what happened last night and to review the data from her laptop.

  It was clear from last night’s discussion that the others would not let the situation rest. However, Em felt she had done more than enough. Even Brigit must have thought so since the dryad had declared the Fiat between them finished.

  “Are you not curious?” said her earring.

  Sure, but she was also afraid. Whatever was in the library was powerful and scary. They had barely escaped with their lives (and if Logan was to be believed, their minds) last night. She wasn’t eager to repeat the experience.

  “Why get involved?” she said out loud.

  “Because we could make a difference?”

  “Those fae seem competent enough.”

  “They do not have your skills. Nor my own. We could assist.”

  By this time in their conversation, the two had reached their destination. The auxiliary library was pretty crowded, but Em was still able to find a study desk with an outlet.

  She plugged in her laptop and logged into the university WiFi. As she removed her earring, Obake changed to a memory stick in her hand. She plugged the tsukumogami into the computer. She rubbed her hands briskly to warm them up before typing into a chat window: Let’s analyze what we found.

  Proceeding.

  Before going to bed last night, the girl had set up several programs to run. They would sift through the data she had gained during the encounter with the library creature.

  Meanwhile, Em started tackling that humanities paper while the tsukumogami worked in the background. Obake excelled at “doing things.” Like all tools, it enjoyed being used and serving its purpose.

  Despite multi-tasking, Em had time to think about her new acquaintances. Celia was friendly but far too smooth with her words. She always knew what to say, no matter the situation. Add in her prettiness and stylish way of wearing clothes, and Em felt awkward when around her. It was no wonder that Logan was always looking at her.

  However, Em figured the more she got to know Celia, the awkward, not-measuring-up feeling would fade away. At least Emma hoped so. It wasn’t like Celia was a demanding or messy roommate. And she was cool with Obake’s habit of revealing awkward truths.

  For example, when Obake revealed she was skipping class, not because she was sick, but because Celia had a hangover, the woman only laughed, agreeing with its assessment.

  With the Fiat between her and Brigit resolved, the tense atmosphere between her and Celia vanished. Besides, the apartment was pretty cool.

  Before she could think about it more, the chat window popped up on her screen with an alert from Obake: Check this out!

  Data started flowing across the screen, and Em leaned over her keyboard, biting the tip of her fingernail in concentration.

  Petit Four

  The chancellor’s office held a weekly faculty luncheon. Engraved and ribboned invitations were delivered to a rotating list of department staff and professors. Those François Auguste Bandemer favored were placed at his head table. Those whom he disliked ended up having their invi
tation delivered a day late.

  Because of the destructive vandalism of the library, which occurred earlier in the week, he felt forced to put Anna Burkhalter to his right. It irked him as the chancellor didn’t want to spoil his luncheon listening to her complaints. He certainly didn’t want to be quizzed over his poached fish.

  He heard enough about her problems when she stormed into his office to show him photos on her cell phone of the damage. While he agreed it was unacceptable, and the responsible party required punishment, he had assigned Paul to the problem. The Doppelgänger would need time to collect data and make a report. At this time, Bandemer had no new information to update Burkhalter.

  At the last moment, he slipped into the faculty dining room to switch out some of the name place markers. He placed Kados Géza between him and the head librarian.

  Bandemer had known Géza since he was a young boy, new to Bewachterberg. The conductor could be relied upon to listen to Burkhalter’s criticisms about the administration without joining in with the librarian’s rants. He had patience, a trait not found in younger faculty members. Bandemer would let the maestro handle her for now.

  The luncheon started pleasantly enough. Seated at Bandemer’s table was a very handsome man who was the youngest of the teaching staff in the foreign languages department. Also at the table was a beautiful lady in her middle years that taught a required class in the philosophy department.

  They were lively and charming companions because they were relatively new to Geheimetür. Much amazed and delighted them. Best of all, his staff had prepped them on how best to flatter the chancellor. A list of subjects to avoid during the four-course meal was provided.

  Finally, the chancellor rose from the table, indicating the guests were to mingle. Bandemer was selecting a handful of sugared almonds from a compote dish when Burkhalter ambushed him.

  “Has your investigation yielded any results?”

  The Swiss woman wore one of her mannish, yet stylish suits. He preferred women wear floor-length dresses that showed their bosom to advantage, but the chancellor admitted she wore it well. Behind her, stood Kados Géza. His face set in the grim way that scared so many of his musicians.