A Study in Spirits

by Byrd Nash

  Brigit gave a sniffle in an attempt to get her emotions back under control. She pulled herself away, hastily wiping the tears off her face.

  “Here, you take one.” She gave him one of the candies. Logan bit off a chunk, as he raised his eyebrows at her. His hair flopped to the side, causing Brigit to give him a watery smile before grimacing. She swallowed.

  “You remember that leaf you gave me? The silver one from my home grove?” He nodded. She took a deep breath and pulled back the collar of her shirt slightly. He could see a faint imprint on her skin right under her left collar bone and above her heart. It was the same print he had seen on her at the reception.

  “Did you get a tattoo over the summer? It’s pretty.”

  “It’s not a tattoo,” she whispered, letting the shirt fall back into place. “It’s the leaf you gave me from my home grove. During the summer, I slept with it one night. I woke up to find it inside of me.”

  “Oh.” Not sure what to say in reply to her statement, he ate the rest of his maple candy. Moments passed. When Brigit still didn’t explain, he asked, “I’m sorry, but what does that mean? I thought you could merge with organic stuff, especially tree-related, all the time. I’m human, so I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t either,” said Brigit, her eyes growing wet again despite herself. “Of course, being a dryad, I can merge into trees or anything that was part of a tree. But I chose to merge, not the other way around. This leaf won’t let go of me.”

  “That doesn’t sound good. But, it’s from your own home in the Perilous Realm. Surely it doesn’t mean you any harm.”

  “When I sleep at night, I have dreams.”

  He waited for her to continue at her own pace.

  “I don’t remember the dreams, but I wake up thinking I’ve forgotten something. I feel that the trees think I’ve forgotten them. Forgotten the promise I made when I left. That I would heal them.”

  Brigit swallowed down her emotions.

  “I’ve been here a year, and I’m no closer to finding out what I can do to save the groves back home. It’s hopeless. I’m never going to discover anything to make them better.”

  “One year? And you haven’t discovered the cure?” asked Logan in mock horror. He added in a gentle, chiding tone, “You need to give yourself a break, Brigit. Many scientists take decades before they get a breakthrough. You’re a second-year student! You haven’t even finished your inorganic chem class series yet.”

  “I know! Don’t you think I know that? It’s,” her chin wobbled as she struggled to tell him her deepest fears, “I feel so helpless. Like it’s too hard. And look,” she turned her paper to him, “I got this stupid C, barely passing this required class that has nothing to do with my degree! This proves I’m too stupid!”

  “That’s a C-average and well above flunking,” countered Logan. “We’ve all gotten a C before, so join the club. Besides, I didn’t think essays were your strengths? Doesn’t your talent lie in math and the sciences?”

  “Yes, but I should be able to do this too,” the dryad asserted stubbornly.

  “Oh, I see you should be equally great in all subjects. Be a whiz kid in everything. Show up us poor humans in every class.” Logan’s words were soft, and his smile forgiving. While listening, he had placed the long length of the palm of his hand against his chin and cheek. He watched her, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “I guess that does sound rather pompous,” admitted Brigit. She wiped at the corner of her tired eyes. “But I thought, if I can’t find the answer, I might as well go home.”

  That didn’t sound like Brigit at all. Give up? She really must be feeling low.

  “I do think you’ve taken on a big challenge,” agreed Logan. “If it were an easy thing to do, your parents would have already sorted it out. Maybe there is a tree disease in the human lands that is similar? That could provide insight into the problem you have in the Perilous? Have you written to researchers about what they are doing?”

  Brigit’s eyes brightened. Her shoulders lifted. She took another piece of candy out of the bag.

  “I’ve looked into tree diseases here, but I never thought of writing the researchers directly. Do you think they would write back?”

  “I don’t see why not. It’s not like scientists are rock stars or something. They may not share their results, but perhaps you could get some ideas from what they are doing? Or do an internship with them?”

  “That’s a good idea! Thanks, Logan.”

  “No problem.”

  They both stood up to leave as new students trickled in the lecture hall for the next class. Brigit told Logan she wanted to stop by the bathroom to wash her face.

  They left the building, walking side by side down the sidewalk.

  “I did want to ask you something,” began Logan, his words alarming Brigit. He continued anyway, determined to get it out in the open. “Am I your roommate, or a bondmate? Am I just a human or a friend?”

  “Of course you’re a friend,” sputtered Brigit, stopping in surprise at his question. “Or as we fae prefer to say, a bondmate. I would never think of you simply as a roommate. We’ve been through too much together.”

  “Well, I thought so, but you didn’t tell me what you owed Paul for helping me last semester. If I understand the Laws of Civility and how they work, if I were your bondmate, I would share in paying off your Debt price.”

  Brigit rubbed her hand over her forehead, giving him a wide-eyed stare.

  “Gosh, Logan, I didn’t want you involved. Paul is not someone to fool around with. He’s dangerous.”

  “All the more reason why you should involve me. Two against one is far better odds against a Doppelgänger. Remember, I’m a bard. I’ve got special skills. I can help.”

  Brigit thought for a moment, talking in Logan’s serious expression.

  “You’re right. That was stupid of me.”

  They started walking again, Brigit deciding their direction since Logan was done with classes for the day.

  “Paul cornered me after class. Wanted me to find out if Granite was involved with stealing that test or in destroying books.”

  “Oh boy,” Logan groaned in sympathy, not telling her he already knew, “not a good spot to be, between Debt and bondmate.”

  “Exactly. And it’s why I was so furious with Granite. Normally, I wouldn’t have snitched, but if Paul demanded it, I would be forced to reveal Granite’s part in it due to my Debt. And expose Emma.”

  Logan knew that Brigit, more than any fae he had met, held a strict code of honor about the Laws of Civility. She would not have reneged on a Debt bond because it would have hurt herself or her friends. Especially if she thought it would dishonor her.

  It was a strange black-and-white thinking that Logan was still trying to understand. It was like thinking truth was all one thing or another, instead of so many shades of gray.

  “I did get Paul to agree that if I found out who was destroying the books in the library, he would let the test-thief off the hook. I couldn’t imagine Granite doing that!”

  “That’s good. Except that the creature in the library is a powerful monster.”

  “Precisely.”

  Brigit’s path brought them to a corner cafe across from campus. Since it was past the lunch hour, it had few people inside. They grabbed a couple of drinks and a table.

  “There’s something I want to show you.” Logan pulled a thin journal from his backpack. “The library opening, which you came to, was to announce a new collection. This was the catalog for it.”

  He slid it over the table to Brigit and opened a page where he had folded a corner.

  “The magazine features parts of the collection they haven’t opened to the public yet.”

  “I’m looking,” Brigit replied in an amazed voice. She tapped her forefinger on the picture. It showed a creature with the hind legs of a horse, pointed horn-ears, and a tail, climbing up the side of the decorated capital letter.

  “That
’s what we saw in the library,” Brigit said, excitedly.

  “It’s a photo of one of the illuminated manuscripts done by monks. The creature is called Titivillus. It names it as the patron demon of scribes.”

  Brigit picked up the pamphlet and read the description.

  “It says here that it causes mistakes in manuscripts. But this thing said it destroys errors? That it ate mistakes?”

  “Here’s the deal, Brigit.” Logan leaned over and spoke in a confidential tone. “I met it earlier. I met it in the library during the reception. The chancellor called me over to talk with it. At the time, it looked like a monk.”

  “But when we saw it in the stacks,” protested Brigit, “it was dressed in a toga, like an ancient Roman or a Greek. So what is it?”

  Logan quickly thumbed through the pages and showed her another page he had dog-marked. He pointed again.

  “There is a fragment of papyrus by Aristarchus in the collection still in the vault. He was a librarian in the Library of Alexandra that edited Homer’s work.”

  The dryad bit the tip of her fingernail, thinking.

  “Whatever it is,” Logan said, “it must be connected somehow to the library collection. It’s using parts of it as a disguise.”

  “Whatever it is,” Brigit countered, outraged, “it describes itself as a purist, when in fact, it’s nothing but a liar. It’s a poser. It’s pretending to be an authority, so it can do what it wants with impunity.”

  Logan nodded in agreement as Brigit continued, “I think I know someone who might be able to help us. In the library is a monk —”

  “I’m assuming you mean the ghost of a monk?”

  “Yes. He sits in a corner and works on writing all day. Barely talks to you. When it comes to ghosts, that’s not a bad thing. I always liked how quiet he was.”

  “How do you think he could help?”

  “Inside knowledge. Might know more about this Titivillus demon thing. Give us some background, fill us in, on what it was, or a clue on what we could do to take it down.”

  “That sounds good, but the abbey library is closed.”

  “There’s always a way to get in. Do you have a library book you need to return?”

  Standing outside the library, Logan looked down at the book in his hands. “I don’t know about this.”

  “It’s simple. I’ll slip into this book, and you drop it into the return depository slot. If I visit during the day, it’s unlikely I’ll meet the monster. I’ll avoid the areas we’ve seen him and head straight to the monk’s corner. Once I hear what he has to say, I’ll just walk out. It’s not like the library is preventing people from leaving.”

  Logan held the book, not willing to hand it over just yet. He didn’t agree with this plan.

  “It’s dangerous, Brigit. And I can’t come in with you. You’d have no backup. I think we need to wait for Jib or Granite to go with you.”

  “I’m just going in to talk with a ghost! Stop being so over-protective. I promise I won’t go near the creature.”

  Logan looked doubtful, and Brigit sighed in exasperation.

  “I don’t know where Jib is; I haven’t seen the púca all day. Anyway, I’m not waiting around for the púca’s permission. It’s bad enough that my father set Jib here to watch my every move. Granite might bring the whole library down around our ears — he isn’t subtle. He doesn’t know his strength. I’ll be fine.”

  “Stop, and let’s think about this.”

  “I have thought about it. For the last week. Yes, it is dangerous, but I’m going in during the day, surrounded by staff. I’m not going to look for the thing. At the first sign of danger, I’ll dodge into a chair or something.”

  “But not a book,” insisted Logan. “Remember, this thing destroys books. If you are gone longer than an hour, I’m going to bring down the house and get you out of there.”

  “An hour should be plenty of time to get what I want done. If I can’t find the monk, I’ll leave, and we will try something else.”

  Logan couldn’t prevent Brigit from doing what she wanted, and her plan sounded reasonable. However, he couldn’t help but think it wasn’t a good idea.

  At his look of concern, the dryad promised him again that at the first sign of trouble, she would leave the building.

  “Logan, you worry too much. All will go fine. There are lots of people in the building right now. Are you worried about them? In reality, being only human librarians, they are far less able to defend themselves than I.”

  “Okay, okay!” he finally agreed. “But realize the clock starts ticking as soon as I slip you through the depository slot.”

  At Brigit’s nod, Logan opened the book. The dryad set the palms of her hands on the pages of the open book. In a moment, she disappeared, merging into the paper.

  Logan gently closed the book and slipped it through the book return slot. Hearing the volume fall into the metal bin made him cringe. He opened the metal door and whispered into it, “Sorry!”

  He set the timer on his cell phone.

  The More You Know

  Emerging from the book, Brigit stepped out of the rolling book bin. She could hear some voices down the hall. She sketched a personal sigil in the air, activating a low-level Glamour spell.

  Concealment wasn’t one of her strong points. Her magic wouldn’t be strong enough to disguise her presence if someone met her face to face. However, the spell would give a bit of look-away.

  She knew Logan would enforce that hour deadline, so she moved quickly, heading to the book stacks. From past encounters, Brigit knew the monk’s ghost was often found on the second level in the south transept.

  Brigit worked her way through the shelf aisles. As she had promised, she planned on staying away from the area where they had encountered the monster. However, she had no idea if it freely moved through the abbey, so kept on high alert.

  She stayed in the shadows, pausing at corners. Walking near the bookshelves, Brigit placed her fingertips on the spines of the books. It allowed her to pick up a quick overview of their health.

  As she thought, the bookshelves in the central area of the library were clean of any sign of the creature’s presence. Here, the books were lively in thought, very chatty about who read them last, and ready to share their ideas.

  None of them had a feeling of dread or concern except for one volume. It was vandalized when a student had scrawled cartoons on its margins. She pulled the book out and opened it to the injured page. She hoped a librarian would see the damage before re-shelving it.

  The staff was busy working on the main floor, sorting stacks of books laid out on the tables. Brigit recognized them as the ones injured during the monster’s attack upon her in the basement. Mentally, she thanked them for their bravery, letting them know that the librarians would do everything they could to repair them.

  She was at the library’s far end when Brigit felt a cry of pain. Before she could stop herself, she went to where the books were weeping.

  Brigit pulled them from the shelves, and opening one ran her fingers down the paper pages. She didn’t need her dryad powers to see what was wrong. She could see where sentences and paragraphs were missing, leaving the remaining typography a disjointed mess.

  It was evidence of brutal censorship.

  “What are you doing?” The ghost was the woman Brigit and Logan had met last week. “Those books can’t tell you anything. Their memories wiped. They cry, but they don’t remember why.”

  Brigit didn’t want to admit it, but the ghost was right. She had hoped the books could reveal what happened to them, but they were mindless now. She put the book back on the shelf and asked the ghost, “I’m looking for the monk. The one that writes. Have you seen him today?”

  Many things shaped a ghost’s form. Not only their willpower but the strength of their grievance, as well as how recently they died. This ghost was well-formed, her features clear, and the outline of her dress well-defined. From her dress, Brigit roughly estimated th
at she was less than a hundred years old.

  The woman beckoned with her finger for Brigit to follow.

  When Emma emerged from her room, she found a strange guy standing in the living room wearing nothing but a towel. She wasn’t going to say anything to Celia until Obake made things awkward by asking, “Why is there a dragon wearing a bath towel in the living room?”

  Celia protested, “You can see him? I worked my most powerful Glamour!”

  The tsukumogami told her, “I see two shapes for one body. The first is a man of moderate height with a boring face. The second is a creature on two legs with wings and a snout.”

  Celia turned to Em, hands on hips.

  “What do you see?”

  “Only the boring guy.”

  The wyvern named Paul, Jib, and Celia all let out a sigh of relief. Emma hastened to explain away Obake’s poor social skills. “The tsukumogami sees secrets. It unlocks them. It’s a key and can’t help itself. Sorry, Celia.”

  The black cat asked Em, “Do you have class?”

  Em shot the new guy a look. Okay, he understood the cat too.

  “In about an hour,” she replied hesitantly. “Why do you want to know?”

  Celia went to the kitchen and peered around the corner, saying in a too-bright-cheerful tone, “I’ve got coffee or tea? Or are you an orange juice person?”

  Em shifted the strap of her backpack over her shoulder. Something was up with these fae.

  “What’s up? I can understand why the guy in the towel looks guilty, but what about you two?”

  “Oh nothing, nothing at all,” Celia said reassuringly.

  “If you can’t lie better than that,” the Trickster chided Celia, “it’s best you tell your roommate the truth. Besides, I have some questions for her anyway.”

  “Lies?” asked Em, her voice rising slightly in alarm while Celia asked, “Would you prefer a muffin or a Danish? What about you, Paul?”

  “I want to know what you’ve discovered, Miss Hacker,” said the cat. “I couldn’t help but overhear you and your little friend chatting away in the next room. It was an interesting dialog.”