by Lucy True
Well, that was the end of professionalism. Burgundy tossed her hair as Lynn stormed out of the room. A moment later, Marian peeked around the corner and remarked, “I see that went well.”
“Very well,” Burgundy affirmed, her heart beating so rapidly, it left her dizzy. She thought she would faint if she didn’t catch her breath. Adrenaline alone kept her upright. Even though the confrontation had been warranted, that didn’t make it satisfying.
“She’s gone downstairs to see Mr. Knight, you know.”
There was no need to ask how Marian knew that. Even from here, Burgundy could hear the creaking of the not-so-secret staircase and then a thudding knock on the door to the downstairs office.
Marian pressed her hand to her mouth, but it didn’t do much to suppress her giggle. “Don’t feel bad. She had it coming.”
“Maybe, but I should have controlled myself better. It’s just...” Burgundy pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead. “When she accused everyone else of not doing their jobs correctly, I snapped.”
“Well, you had a right to it, and thanks for standing up for the rest of us.” The nymph rested her head against the doorframe and appeared to be mulling something over. “I don’t think Mr. Knight has ever fired anyone in the entire history of the library. Now that I think about it, it’s kind of weird, actually.”
“What’s weird?” It seemed like a stupid question, considering the past few days, but Burgundy couldn’t help it.
Marian glanced back toward the circulation desk. It was quiet upstairs. Wednesdays remained one of their least busy days in the adult area. “Like, there’s no retired librarians. Have you ever thought about that?”
That was peculiar and, also, entirely wrong. “That’s an old urban legend from back when I was in high school, too,” Burgundy said, approaching the doorway. They walked to the circulation desk and she set her papers on it, tempted to shred them. Then again, they really belonged in Lynn’s personnel file, so she set them aside.
“Are you sure it’s just an urban legend?” Marian asked, baring her teeth slightly.
“Trust me, it is. My mother worked here when she was my age.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.”
Burgundy kept her face lowered, her expression concealed from Marian. It was common knowledge that her parents had dumped her on Iris to raise her. But that seemed to be all anyone remembered about them. “Yeah, Aunt Iris told me she worked here. Anyway, there’s other former librarians. They didn’t disappear or meet nefarious fates. The one I replaced went on to join her pack in Colorado.”
“Well, darn.” Marian sank down into her chair and pouted. “I kind of liked having my friends ask me all sorts of questions about working here. They treated me like I was brave for taking the job.”
“You are brave.” With a gesture toward the door that hid the central staircase, Burgundy said, “You work with Lynn every day.”
As Marian opened her mouth to answer, they heard a shriek from downstairs. Though the old walls lining the staircase seemed to stifle it, there was no mistaking the horror in the sound. Marian jumped to her feet, but Burgundy gestured for her to stay back.
“I’ll check it out. Be ready to call the police.” Not that Burgundy wanted to go into the basement alone, but nymphs weren’t much use unless she needed someone to commune with nature.
Burgundy chanted the words of a simple defensive spell as she hurried toward the stairs and started down them. It was one of the few spells she could cast with some success. Fifty-fifty, really, but if it worked, it would be enough to at least buffer her from any attacks, to soften them until she saw what she was dealing with. She hated anticipating that possibility, especially since nothing violent ever happened in Rock Grove, but she certainly couldn’t discount it.
The list of things that might cause Lynn to shriek was pretty long – mice, an unflushed toilet (with or without a floater), a speck of dust on a shelf. It was the first time she’d ever actually let out such a shrill sound, though, and Burgundy decided it was better to be safe than sorry. When she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, she heard, “No, no, no!” coming from Mr. Knight’s office.
When she stepped around the corner, she skidded to a stop in shock. It appeared Lynn’s piercing shriek was very much warranted.
Burgundy looked at the scene in front of her and wished, briefly, that she had a spell strong enough to scrub the image from her memories forever.
Chapter Nine
“And there she was, backed into a corner, with Mr. Knight saying, ‘But I love you, I love you!’ For someone who says she thinks he’s the handsomest man in the world, she sure looked pretty upset. The expression on Lynn’s face was priceless. Honestly, it was way too entertaining.”
“No!” Charlotte’s eyes were wide, unbelieving. “You’d think she’d be stoked he finally noticed her.”
“I know, right? But it’s true. She looked absolutely horrified. I think he came on too strong. You know how cat shifters are. They prefer being the predator, not the prey.” Burgundy stuck her chopsticks into her box of fried rice and swallowed some soda to wash down her last bite.
“So the weird love epidemic strikes again.”
“All of the weird.” Letting out a sigh, Burgundy set her can of soda down on the coffee table and looked at Charlotte. They hadn’t hung out together like this in a while. Ever since middle school, they’d enjoyed regular “Ladies Nights” at her aunt’s house until Jenna came along. For some reason, it’d been awkward to have Charlotte with them when Burgundy and Jenna were spending time together.
It wasn’t that Jenna objected, but she certainly let Burgundy know she didn’t want a third wheel on their dates. Even if it was something as simple as hanging out at home to watch a movie together. Now Burgundy realized she’d lost an entire year with her best friend. As much as Jenna dumping her hurt, this realization hurt worse.
Burgundy rested her head on Charlotte’s shoulder and let out a sigh. “This is nice. I love that we can sit down and do this again. I mean, getting dumped sucks, but at least there’s an upside.”
“Which is what?” Charlotte draped her arm around Burgundy and they both stretched their legs in front of them, their feet warmed by the fire. It brought Burgundy back to those adolescent days, when Charlotte would sleep over and they’d giggle about whatever was going on in their lives. They’d come out to each other as lesbians, but never crossed the friendship line. Besides, Charlotte always had a girlfriend when they were teenagers. Always. She was too lovely and popular not to, whereas Burgundy wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea.
Now, even though she missed having her own girlfriend, she was glad nothing stood in the way of hanging out with her best friend. “The upside is I get to spend time with you again. I’m sorry we stopped having our ladies nights when I was with Jenna. It was pretty shitty of me.” Burgundy wiggled her toes and nestled closer to Charlotte. “Jenna never liked it when you were around. I don’t mean that she was jealous or anything. She wanted me all to herself when she was here, which makes sense. After all, she had to drive over an hour from the city to see me.”
Charlotte’s arm squeezed around her briefly. “I always understood,” she said. “I’m your friend. That never changed. Besides, I had a feeling things would come around eventually.”
“In what way?” When Charlotte didn’t answer her, Burgundy straightened and looked at her. “Did you think she was going to break up with me?”
“Sort of. I mean, I didn’t think it would last.” Charlotte lifted her arm from Burgundy’s shoulders, looked down, and curled her hands into fists in her lap. She looked sadder than Burgundy had ever seen her. “I wanted you to have a girlfriend, especially because you seemed to want one so much. But she felt like the wrong person from the start. Not that I was hoping things wouldn’t last or something like that. I just didn’t see it going anywhere. Yeesh, I’m babbling.”
“Huh.” Burgundy turned back to the fire and pondered that revelation. It wa
sn’t a big deal, as far as she was concerned. Better an honest friend than some snotty bitch who dumped her by text. She nudged Charlotte and said, “It’s okay. I appreciate you telling me the truth. Maybe we need to share our thoughts more often when it comes to girlfriends. And, hey, I guess it worked out for both of us, because now we get to hang out again.”
“So you’re not mad at me?”
Burgundy shook her head and pulled Charlotte in for a hug. “Not at all. I’m mad at myself for ever letting you think you couldn’t tell me what was on your mind.”
The fire popped and crackled, and Burgundy closed her eyes. Heat radiated into the room, intense and relaxing. With a little sigh, she sank back against the sofa, one arm still around Charlotte and the other relaxed in her lap. After another moment, Charlotte did the same.
Her friend’s murmured, “So, what next?” broke the silence.
Burgundy blinked her eyes open and watched the flames dancing along the logs. “Well,” she drawled, “I guess the first thing to do is figure out this love stuff.”
“Are you telling me you haven’t gotten it figured out?” Charlotte asked teasingly.
“Are you kidding me? It’s a mystery to me.”
“Well, maybe I can help you with any questions you might have.”
To Burgundy’s surprise, gentle fingers stroked along her jawline and then turned her head to face her friend. Charlotte inched closer and it took Burgundy a moment to process what was going on. As soon as she figured it out, she let out a yelp that sounded far too much like a small, yappy dog.
Charlotte jumped back. “What’s wrong?”
“You were going to kiss me!” Burgundy blurted out. At the moment, she didn’t know what was more surprising: Charlotte making a move on her or her own desire to see what it would be like. The one thing she did know was how unexpected it was to have her best friend lean in for something so intimate.
“Right, because you said you wanted to figure out this love stuff...” Charlotte’s expression fell.
“Oh no.” Burgundy covered her face with her hands. “That’s not what I meant! I was talking about everyone around town. The weird love stuff. I mean, this is weird, too, but I wasn’t thinking, I mean, it never, um–” Gah, could she dig this hole any deeper?
They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Charlotte spluttered. “Oh shit. I feel like a total idiot. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s all good. You’re the prettiest idiot in Rock Grove.” Burgundy chuckled and the more she thought about the moment, the harder she laughed. It must have been contagious, because Charlotte joined in until they were both rolling on the floor, giggling like teenagers.
Relief flooded Burgundy. The giggle fit was cathartic, cleansing her of all the misery and stress of the past several days. Just when she thought the laughter would subside, it started anew, leaving them both breathless with mirth.
“Well, I see the more things change, the more they stay the same,” Arthur observed as he padded over to the hearth and stretched out along the bricks. Only he would seek out the hottest spot in the house and claim it for himself. Sometimes, Burgundy envied his ability to do so.
She sat upright and wiped the tears from her eyes. Charlotte did the same. They glanced at each other, still sniffling. If not for the firedrake’s presence, Burgundy wondered if Charlotte might try to kiss her again. The idea held more appeal than she cared to admit.
“If you two start pillow-fighting, I’m out of here,” Arthur told them.
“Not going to happen. I need to get home.” Charlotte pushed herself to her feet and started gathering her things.
“What?” Burgundy watched in disappointment. “You can’t do that. You’re the Robin to my Batman.”
“I’m a boy wonder?”
“How about the Garth to my Wayne?” Burgundy suggested.
Charlotte folded her arms, eyes narrowed. “That is vaguely insulting. I’ve never been a skittish dweeb. Besides, why do all sidekicks have to be male?”
“Fine. How about the Bess to my Nancy or the Willow to my Buffy?” Even though she said it hopefully, Burgundy could see that Charlotte was not amused.
Because now Charlotte pinched the top of her nose and shook her head. “Drop the sidekick analogy, okay? I’m not a useless girly-girl and the Willow/Buffy one is totally backwards, since you’re the witch.”
“Well, I might be the witch, but you’re the quiet, unassuming one.” Rising to follow Charlotte, Burgundy watched dejectedly as her friend put on her shoes and picked up her purse.
“Maybe,” Charlotte agreed, “but you aren’t solving mysteries or taking out monsters. You’re you – a small-town librarian and witch. And guess what? I like that version of you. So stop worrying so much about the weird love epidemic and do what you do best.”
“Which is?” There really wasn’t an answer to that question, as far as Burgundy was concerned. She was only a fair witch, at best, and a pretty decent librarian, at worst. But there was nothing else to distinguish her in any way.
Charlotte turned before walking out the door, placed her hand on Burgundy’s arm, and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “Which is being you,” she said. “Now get a good night’s sleep and take it easy tomorrow. You deserve it. I’ll see you later.”
“Wait!” Burgundy called after her. “What if the weird love epidemic gets one of us?”
She heard Charlotte’s chuckle over her retreating steps, but no other answer.
Long after Charlotte was gone, Burgundy found herself alone in her bedroom, going through her old journals. It seemed strange to look back at her writings from eight to fifteen years ago. But hanging out with her best friend had stirred a sense of nostalgia. The journals detailed her hopes and dreams. From the small things – What will Anya Baron say if I ask her out? (Nothing nice, as it turned out) – to the big, looking back at her life seemed like the right thing to do.
“Arthur,” she told the firedrake, who’d relocated to the foot of her bed, “can you believe nothing interesting has happened to me, ever?”
“Of course I can. This is Rock Grove. When interesting things do happen, it’s usually something big. Not just one person’s experience.”
“Something big?” Burgundy looked at him. For a moment, she envied him once more. It must be nice, she thought, to be able to curl up and ignore the rest of the world.
“Sure, like a drought or a plague of grasshoppers, or what have you. The interesting stuff almost always afflicts the entire town, and then someone figures out how to solve the problem, and it’s gone.”
Burgundy closed her journals and pondered his words. It was true that every town-wide problem came with at least some small warning. Usually the issue lasted until everyone put their heads together and figured out a solution. In this case, Burgundy wasn’t sure that would work. With enough people afflicted by whatever was going on, she doubted they’d see the problem.
A quick tally in her head told her she’d seen at least a hundred couples out of the norm. With a population of a little over six thousand people in town, the odds weren’t in her favor. As more were hit with whatever was going on, there’d be fewer reasonable minds until...
“I wonder if the mayor would be willing to call a town meeting,” she told Arthur.
“He might, but you better get him before he goes bonkers, too.”
“Right.” Burgundy huffed and folded her arms. “Tell me something I don’t know.” She was already trying to plan what to say to the mayor to convince him of the necessity of the meeting, so she almost missed what Arthur said next.
“If I must.” The firedrake stretched, the claws of his forelegs making tiny indentations in her comforter, before he turned to face her. “Whatever you’re dealing with, it’s high level magick. I don’t know who’s causing it, but once it happens, there might be no reversing it.”
Burgundy’s mouth fell open and she watched the firedrake resume a curled-up position, tucking his tail around himself as h
e nested on her blankets. “How do you know this?” she asked.
He tapped his snout. “It has a distinct smell, this kind of magick. There’s a reason your aunt doesn’t practice it. The first rule of the Witches Council is not to cast that which cannot be undone.”
“So if whoever is causing this is a witch, they’re breaking a pretty big rule,” Burgundy mused.
“Yes, but that’s a huge if, my child. Magick of this magnitude and on this scale? I doubt your perpetrator is a witch.”
“What if there’s more than one?” Burgundy asked.
Arthur opened one eye to peer at her. “That’s probably the most intelligent question you’ve asked all night, Burg.”
Chapter Ten
If Arthur was right and the weird love epidemic, as she and Charlotte had dubbed it, was magick, then Burgundy decided she had a responsibility to confirm that. As the only witch in town at the moment, she was also the only person who could make that determination. At least that was something she could do without screwing up... she hoped.
Even though it was a futile gesture, she studied her spell books all day Thursday and tried to practice a disenchanting charm. It wasn’t like she enjoyed being so far behind on her witchy education. But even with practice, she couldn’t seem to push past absolute basics. The one time she’d worked on a major spell at her aunt’s behest, all the food in the house had spoiled. Since then, her aunt encouraged her to try little things, but every failure wore at Burgundy’s self-confidence until it was ground down to less than nothing.
At least she accomplished one thing. Or tried to. She emailed the mayor with her concerns. An automated response pinged into her email inbox immediately and she scanned it. “Out of the office until Monday,” she muttered. “Figures.”
