Brandywine Investigations

by Angel Martinez

  Tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth, Dio stood on tiptoe and stretched, trying to snag the book. "Damn shortness. You'd think being divine would come with a minimum height requirement."

  He wedged his right foot between books on the bottom shelf to give himself another half inch, and just as his fingers scrabbled for the book, a rumble vibrated through the floor and the shelf jerked. Dio lost his balance, pinwheeling and landing on his ass in the middle of the aisle, watching in disbelief as his section of shelf descended and vanished below the floor.

  "Now that's not fair. Absolutely not cricket at all. Or grasshopper. Or praying mantis." He picked himself up, rubbing at the bruised spot on his butt. "Why do they call it cricket anyway? Crickets never get to play."

  Abandoning the sinking shelf in disgust, he wound his way through the corridors of shelves, finally coming across a path that appeared to lead farther into the interior. After several more right-hand turns and a couple of joggy things to the left, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. On a shelf between stacks of scrolls, lay a beautiful champagne-colored tabby, tail twitching as she slept.

  "Library kitty!" he exclaimed in delight and took a break from the maze to pet her.

  She opened one eye and yawned, batting at him with her forepaw. With a chirping purr, she turned on her side, stretched, and abruptly turned into a parchment scroll.

  Dio yanked his hand back. Clearly, this library didn't like him. "I think my feelings are starting to get hurt."

  Another right, then a left, and still he hadn't run into another being who was not a book. A strange rustling came from up ahead. He cocked his head to the side, listening. It sounded like…

  He barely had time to throw himself to the floor before a swarm of mini-books burst from around the next bend and zipped by overhead, their tiny covers flapping madly as they raced through the air.

  "Fucking fuckity fuck! I hate this place!" Dio curled on the floor with his arms over his head until the last of the biblio swarm passed. Cautiously, he sat up, scrubbing both hands over his face. "Hate it, hate it, hate it."

  A dark, oddly shaped head poked around the next bend, a head that looked vaguely like a camel with giraffe knobs. "Dionysus? You seem a bit stressed."

  "Oh, hey, Set. This library is conspiring against me." He picked himself up for the second time and rushed to hug Set on a sudden realization. "A person! Who probably knows stuff! Oh, thank the holies."

  "Well. It's nice to see you too, oh lovely god of orgies. But the enthusiasm is rather unexpected," Set said in his dry, ironic way. He kissed Dio on the nose. "Are you propositioning me, or are you just lost?"

  "I'm just freaking glad to see a familiar face in the funhouse. Not that it's fun. Because it isn't. I just had a cat-scroll diss me. A rabid flock of bird books tried to run me over. And a bookshelf decided it would rather sink into the floor than let me look at a book."

  Set, damn him, laughed. "Careful. I'll conclude you don't like my cycling shelves."

  "What… Oh, seriously? You made the stupid moving shelves?"

  "I did help build the library." Set disentangled himself, moving papyri around from shelf to shelf as he talked. "With all your stuffy relatives involved, I had to have some fun."

  "My relatives aren't stuffy. Okay, some of them are. Most of them. Fine." Dio took a breath, fascinated by the swift, sure movements of Set's dark hands. "What are you doing?"

  "Probably working on giving Thoth a fit, since this is his favorite part of the library. He's so easy to annoy, I can't resist." Set finished and closed a hand on Dio's shoulder, drawing him back to a table set in the middle of the aisle. "And setting up something you might enjoy watching. Be patient."

  Dio leaned back against the table, glad for even such dubious company. Of course he knew Set was neither a compassionate nor a kind god. He perpetrated some bad shit sometimes. But Dio's past was riddled with violence on behalf of his friends and followers, so glass houses and all. He'd never had a personal problem with Set, unlike most of his relatives. Chaos gods, Set said. They understood each other.

  Yeah, but I'd never kill for fun or just to see what happens. Does that make me a part-time chaos god? Quasi-chaos? Chaos lite?

  "So what are we waiting for?"

  "Patience." Set patted his arm, looking way too smug.

  Dio was beginning to wonder if Set had planned some horrible surprise for someone, some spell in his rearranging, when the swift click-click-click of small claws on stone approached. A red-furred face with white markings poked around the nearest corner, pointed furry ears twitching. Dio nearly clapped his hands in delight as a red panda turned the corner, but he forced himself to remain still and silent.

  The panda approached the shelf Set had rearranged, making disapproving chuffs and growls. It twittered loudly, bushy ringed tail twitching, and was soon joined by two more.

  "Holy vines and seedlings," Dio whispered. "They're so damn cute!"

  "Keep watching."

  The pandas climbed the shelves, chirping and muttering what sounded like complaints. With their clever forepaws they began to move papyri about, handing them down to a panda above or below, switching the order on the shelves they occupied, giving every indication that they were putting things back in order. More joined them until there were six red pandas reshelving papyri in adorable grumpiness.

  "I knew you'd appreciate them." Set chuckled.

  "They're the best things ever. Makes the trip to this stupid place worth it. Are they really—"

  The clop of hooves interrupted him. At first he thought it was George looking for him, but the hooves were obviously too large, the sound made by a creature far heavier than a faun. A centaur? Did centaurs use the library? But no, it was two hooves, not four. The creature that hove into sight around the bookshelf made Dio gasp and shove Set behind him in an automatic protective response. Stupid, of course, since the god of storms was far more powerful than he would ever be.

  The thing was huge, taller than Set and far broader in shoulder and chest. It had a human torso and a human face, the eyes hidden by a fall of shaggy russet hair, but bull's ears bracketed the head. It walked upright on hoofed feet, the bull's legs and tail partially covered by a many-pocketed utility kilt. But the horns were the worst of it—long, sharp horns worthy of a Highland bull—pointing forward aggressively. The thing stopped, snorted, and stamped a hoof.

  "My Lord Set," the bull thing said in an absurdly soft voice for such a huge beast. It shoved the hair from its eyes and adjusted a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles on its nose. "If you persist in tormenting the library assistants, I will be forced to ask you to leave."

  "Who the hell are you?" Dio asked, his fists still clenched and ready to strike.

  Set gripped his shoulder. "It's adorable that you want to protect me, Dio. But we try to keep violence to a minimum here. This is the librarian. Leander, my dear, I merely wanted to show Lord Dionysus how efficient the assistants are."

  The minotaur librarian, Leander, let his disapproving gaze wander over the scene and spared a tight-lipped glance for Dio. "They have shown that they are. Please let them return to their work without further interference, my lords."

  "As you wish." Set swept the minotaur an ironic bow. "We enter your domain at your suffrage."

  Leander considered them, dark eyes darting between them before he snorted and walked back the way he'd come, his heavy hoof beats echoing through the stacks.

  "That was a minotaur," Dio choked out in disbelief. "The librarian's a minotaur. Is it The Minotaur? Really? How is that safe?"

  "Oh, it's perfectly safe." Set waved a hand in a dismissive gesture.

  "But doesn't he kill people? Wait. Come to think of it, isn't he dead?"

  Set chuckled softly. "I've forgotten how much fun it is to play with you. But I must be off. So much to see to today."

  Before Dio could ask any more questions or any of the questions he really should have been asking, Set had faded from sight. Really n
ot fair, that some gods could do that. And now I still haven't found the stupid book, and the librarian's probably pissed and he'll probably eat me if I ask him. Damn Set.

  He hurried through the maze of stacks, hoping to catch up with one of the library assistants. The pandas would probably understand if he asked them. But he didn't spot any of them and finally reached another set of stairs, this one's banisters decorated with phoenixes instead of dragons. With a sigh, he decided he would head downstairs and find George. He wasn't doing so well on his own.

  The librarian couldn't be the Cretan minotaur, though he'd never heard of another one. The original one had been his beloved Ariadne's half brother. Dio had never met him, but Ari had told him how sad she was that her little brother had been locked away in a dark labyrinth because he was supposedly violent. She'd been absolutely heartbroken when that creep Theseus had killed him. He was supposed to be leading the minotaur out to Ari. That's why she'd given him the magic ball of yarn. But Theseus was the most egregious liar the world had ever seen. Egregious. Good word. Egregious… Egregious… egg crates…

  When he reached the bottom of the stairs and bounded back out into the shelves, he nearly collided with a familiar figure. "Auntie Hestia?"

  She looked up from the book she leafed through in distracted fashion, peering up the stairs at him before she smiled. "Hello, dear. How nice to see you here."

  "Not as nice as seeing you." He raced down the stairs into her offered hug. "I've decided I really don't like libraries. And they don't like me."

  "Now, now." She let him cling for a moment before she set him back and linked her arm through his. Her steady warmth always made him feel like even he could be sane for a bit. "You just haven't spent enough time in them. Come and tell me what you're struggling with."

  She led him away from the stairs, left, then right, where she stopped in front of a bookcase. Dio thought she might be looking for a particular book, but she just stood there, smiling serenely with her little hand tucked into the crook of his elbow. After a few moments, the floor rumbled in a way Dio had encountered before, and the bookcase in front of them began to sink into the floor. When it had finished its descent, Aunt Hestia calmly stepped across the top of the sunken bookcase and continued on.

  "Shortcut," she explained with a bright smile.

  "Ha! I should've guessed something like that."

  Another few turns brought them to a bright, cheery room full of cozy seating groups and overstuffed chairs in soft floral patterns. Every chair had a reading lamp, a cushion, and a footstool. The rectangular central table was a hive of activity, Hestia's several human assistants pouring over books and scribbling notes. They all stopped as she entered, several of them jumping up from their seats.

  "Don't let us interrupt. Everyone remembers my nephew?"

  All five answered that they did, and Dio was pleased that he recalled their names as well, all humans who had been with Auntie Hestia for years. Anthony, tall and elegant, who usually worked as her front office receptionist. Grace, grandmotherly and stern, who did Auntie Hestia's personal accounting. Ava, her personal assistant, who he saw with some sorrow was now using a pair of forearm crutches instead of just a cane. Leslie, who managed the front desk staff in Auntie Hestia's Manhattan building, and Leslie’s twin Lester, who ran the catering side of the business.

  Auntie Hestia sat him down off to one side, gave him tea, and prodded him through telling her everything that had happened. After he finished, she shook her head. "You should have come to me, dear. I have staff and we all know the library well."

  They sipped and watched the human assistants move in and out of the reading room, murmuring to each other, intent on their tasks. At one point, all five had gone off—Leslie and Lester back to Auntie Hestia's Manhattan building and the other three into the library on separate searches. Dio felt he could finally answer.

  "I wanted to do it myself for once." That sounded so sulky he added, "And your staff is always busy. I don't want to bother them. Especially… um… Ava's getting worse, isn't she?"

  "She's holding her own." Auntie Hestia's smile slipped. "The new meds help with some things."

  "Good to hear. But still. I know I'm mostly a pain and always asking for help with stuff. It's not fair to your peeps. They have families and boyfriends and pets and stuff. I can't take up their time, and I don't want to take their time from you." He craned his neck as if he could read the books spread out on the table from across the room. "What are they doing today?"

  "Looking for a poppy-seed cake recipe." The corners of Auntie Hestia's eyes crinkled.

  He waved a hand toward the clutter of research. "All this for cake?"

  "It's a very old recipe and a special one. Lends a feeling of peace to the household."

  "So it's made with pot?"

  She laughed. "I suppose that would be one solution. It's one I had—"

  A skitter of claws out in the corridor stopped her. She turned with a frown as one of the red panda library assistants careened around the corner, galloping across the carpet to them. It stopped in front of Dio and stood on its hind legs, front paws outstretched as if it were exclaiming as it launched into a symphony of odd and agitated twitters.

  "She wants you to go with her, Dio."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know, dear, but it seems important."

  Of course. Why would Auntie Hestia speak red panda? Dio scrambled up and managed to kiss his aunt's cheek and place the lovely rose-patterned teacup down without breaking it before the panda dashed off. Sliding around the corners, Dio pounded after it. Did it know what he was looking for? Did George need him? Had Set done something horrid?

  Back up the stairs they raced, past the second floor, on to the third. At the top of the third-floor stairs was a long arched hallway of dark wood lined with scrolls in glass cases. The heavy carpet underfoot and the soft lighting muted everything and gave his headlong pursuit of the library assistant a dreamlike haze. A quick turn right and left into another dark hallway, but there was something… farther down toward the next turning… something on the floor… The librarian stood at the end of the hallway, looming over someone on the floor.

  "No. Oh, no, no, no, no!" Dio skidded to a halt and flung himself to his knees. The carpet here was wet, a sticky wetness with a scent rising from it he knew all too well. "Meggie?"

  He turned her over, his heart taking a sickening lurch as he saw the gaping hole through her chest. Her black clothes hid much of the blood, but his hands were immediately soaked with it.

  "Meggie? No, no, you can't. Don't leave me… Meggie?" But her beautiful eyes already stared past him, dull and glassy. He clutched the lifeless body to him, despair welling up from the depths of the earth. A boulder lodged in his throat as he rocked helplessly, tears stinging his eyes. "No! My poor Meggie, I just… Who did this?"

  Suddenly, he knew. He stopped rocking as his head jerked up. There stood the librarian with his long, sharp horns. Right there. He had been standing over Meghan's lifeless body. Dio set her down, snarling as he rose, the blood a tsunami in his ears as the world exploded in white.

  Leander

  Chapter Four

  I didn't, Lord Hades. I didn't. I never would have." Leander shivered uncontrollably, unable to concentrate on the questions asked. Someone had wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. There was a mug of tea, but he couldn't hold it. The curls of steam rose in a sinuous dance, fingers of accusation all pointing at him. "I didn't."

  Lord Hades did an odd thing. He went down on one knee beside Leander's chair and took his hands. "Listen for a moment. Leander Asterion, look at me. I know you didn't. Your scent isn't on the victim. Your horns have neither scent nor stain of blood. Leander, look at me."

  Carefully, he raised his head, and Lord Hades was astute enough to move around his horns. Here. Now. Not back in the terrible darkness. He was in Lady Hestia's room. "He attacked me, my lord," he whispered. "Screaming that I had killed her."

  "He was overcome
with grief. Insensible with it. Dionysus wasn't aware of what he did." Lord Hades gripped his hands tighter, blue eyes commanding Leander's attention. "Leander, I need you to tell me what you saw. I have no weapon. No trail."

  "I… my lord? Couldn't you speak to the shade?"

  "I spoke to Meghan and accompanied her across the Styx myself. She heard some odd sounds. Breaking glass. But she was struck from behind and did not see who murdered her."

  Leander swallowed hard. He didn't want to know the girl's name. Didn't want to know her as a person. It would make the horror too real. It was already too real—all that blood, the terrible jolt of finding her. He couldn't… He couldn't even stop shaking. He wanted his room and his bed, where he would be safe. "My lord, I don't feel well at all."

  A twitch had begun along Lord Hades's jaw. Leander watched it in frightened fascination. The lord of the Underworld would soon lose patience with him, not a comfortable thought. "Tell me. Simply that." Lord Hades drew a slow breath. "And then you may go."

  "I… The library assistants said there was a disturbance on the third floor. I was… annoyed."

  "Why annoyed?"

  "Lord Set had been rearranging shelves. It agitates the assistants when things are out of order. I thought…" He shook his head carefully against the growing dizziness.

  "You thought he was interfering with the collections again," Lord Hades supplied. "Did you see him along the way or on the third floor?"

  "N—no." He stopped and tried to think. Had he? Was there a shadow that passed him? Had someone been there? Why did he think that? "No, I did not."

  "Did you pass anyone on the stairs?"

  "No." He was sure of that. There had been no one on the stairs. Even when he was invisible, Lord Set left a feeling of displacement as he passed. There had been none on the stairs and no one else on the way.

  "You reached the third floor. Entered the Alexandrian Collection. What then?"