Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Legends

by Lydia Sherrer

  Disappointed, but firm in her decision, she heaved the heavy oak door closed until there was only a crack left between it and the stone frame. Turning away, she headed off down the street as she looked at her phone, checking the pictures she’d just taken. What she saw stopped her in her tracks.

  Lily whirled, eyes searching for the archway and alley she’d just left. But they were gone. The two shops on either side of the archway now appeared side-by-side, without the tiniest crack between them. Looking back at her pictures, she held up the phone, comparing them to what was in front of her. Every single picture showed the plain stone of the shops’ outer walls, taken at various angles and distances. There was no alley, no garden, and no fox.

  Thoroughly unnerved, Lily hurried off down the street, wanting to get inside and away from that alley—or absence of an alley—as quickly as possible. For once, she was desperate to talk to someone, anyone, needing some reassurance that she wasn’t dreaming.

  She had to swipe her library card at the main doors to get into the Old Bodleian. As she finally entered that ancient refuge of learning, she felt a sense of peace and wonder settle over her that chased away her fleeting paranoia. Stopping, she breathed in deep, instantly put at ease by the smell of old books and the feeling of age that permeated the air. It was refreshingly quiet, and she trod carefully on the flagstone floor as she headed toward a circular desk manned by several people.

  The librarian on duty listened politely to her request for a tour, nodding when Lily mentioned Helen Pemberton’s name. She asked Lily to wait and disappeared down a side hall, returning less than a minute later with a young woman in somber-colored clothes and thick glasses. She was introduced as Ashley, one of the graduate trainees. Handing Lily a pamphlet containing a handy floor plan of the Old Bodleian—there simply called the Old Library—the librarian returned to her station and left Lily in the expert care of the trainee.

  The first thing Ashley did was to ask Lily what type of information she was looking for. Lily showed her the list of books Cyril had given her, and Ashley took a moment to examine it, eyes moving rapidly down the lines of text.

  Finally looking up from the sheet of paper, she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose and spoke softly. “It looks like most of the books you’ll need will be on the second floor of the Old Library, or in the History Faculty Library over in the Radcliffe Camera. If you like, I can show you how to put a request in and give you a walk around while we wait. I know at least a few of these will come up fairly quickly, and you can get started with your reading. I expect you’ll want to read in Duke Humfrey’s reading room. It’s the most beautiful spot, though the chairs aren’t the most comfortable.”

  Lily agreed with a smile, being no stranger to long hours spent sitting in hard wooden chairs. She was a librarian, archivist, and wizard, after all, though Ashley didn’t know about that last one.

  Following the trainee, she went up a flight of stairs and around the corner to where a group of photocopying machines and computers nestled in an alcove. To the right, the hall opened up into a long, well-lit reading room, the entrance guarded by what a sign declared to be the main enquiry desk.

  Being familiar with the online request system at her own library in Atlanta, Lily followed along easily as Ashley showed her how to put in book requests, explaining that most of the books in the Old Library and the Radcliffe Camera had to be read onsite and could not be checked out. Once they’d requested all the books from Cyril’s list, Ashley took her on a tour. The graduate trainee seemed grateful for a chance to get away from her desk, and so the tour was, perhaps, a bit longer and more extensive than strictly necessary. Not that Lily was complaining.

  Everything was gorgeous, old, and begging to be touched. Lily couldn’t help but run her fingers lightly over the leather-bound spines of shelf after shelf of books as they walked through the Old Library’s two upper floors—the ground floor housed the main desk, an exhibition room, gift shop, café, and various offices.

  Ashley saved the best for last, finally leading Lily up the south staircase to Duke Humfrey’s reading room. Situated above the Divinity School, the reading room was the location of the very first library built by the University, created to house the extensive collection donated by Humfrey, Duke of Gloucester. Later added to and expanded, it was the oldest part of the library and absolutely transcendent in its beauty.

  As they exited the staircase and entered the reading room, Lily felt herself shiver with excitement. She gazed with wonder down a long hall filled with rows and rows of freestanding bookshelves, each with its own slanted desk and alcove. This was the Arts End, situated above the entrance hall of the Old Library where she’d originally come in. Moving to the center of this hall and turning left, they had to first check in at the security porter’s desk before going further.

  Since you couldn’t take any bags into Duke Humfrey’s, Ashley had already shown her to the lockers where Lily left her bag and personal items. The only things she carried with her were her phone and computer. At the security desk, the porter, a smiling, middle-aged man, checked over her things and sent her on her way with a polite reminder to follow all the library’s rules regarding deportment and the handling of books.

  Passing the porter’s desk, they walked down the oldest section, the medieval hall built directly above the Divinity School. This hall connected the two ends to form a letter H. Its walls were one solid mass of shelves, with book spines making a kaleidoscope of color in their massive variety of cloth and leather bindings.

  Finally reaching the end of the medieval section, they entered the most magnificent part of Duke Humphrey’s reading room: the Selden End. As she stepped inside, Lily’s breath caught in her throat and she felt the tingle of goosebumps race up her arms. A momentary break in the clouds filled the long hall with glorious sunlight, which streamed in through massive arched windows at either end of the room. Looking up, she saw that the ceiling opened above them, extending up a floor and a half to a beautifully carved wooden ceiling made up of rows and rows of painted panels depicting the arms of the university. Both walls were covered in books from floor to ceiling, with a landing on either side of the hall allowing access to the upper level of books. The open floor in the middle of the hall was filled with rows of desks with individual reading lights.

  Everything around her was dark, smooth, polished wood, and the overwhelming smell of books made her heady, as if she were drunk on wine. Ashley had to say her name several times before Lily heard her and dragged her mind back to earth with painful reluctance. The graduate intern seemed to understand and did not attempt to lead Lily back out of the room, but simply told her to explore while she went to collect Lily’s requested reading material.

  Lily wandered around in a euphoric daze, wishing with all her heart that she could somehow live in this room for the rest of her life. This was a bibliophile’s heaven in every sense of the word. The poets could keep their Elysian fields, for all she cared. If she were in charge of paradise, this was what it would look like. There were few other people in the room and the only noise was the occasional turn of a page. So it was easy for her to imagine that she was alone with the thousands of glorious books around her.

  She was up on one of the landings, carefully thumbing through an eighteenth-century book on the Hundred Years’ War when Ashley returned with an armful of research material. Taking the books, Lily installed herself at one of the reading desks, got out her computer, and began to read, starting with the books on Cyril’s list that he’d marked as most important. Knowing she didn’t have time to read through every one of them front to back, she began by scanning the table of contents and index of each, picking out all the sections referencing Avalon or Morgan le Fay. Upon further reading, she added Tintagel Castle—the purported birthplace of King Arthur and therefore possibly Morgan—and several minor characters’ names to her list of key words. She took notes on particularly interesting passages using her computer, being a much safer al
ternative to using her eduba in public, even if there were only four other people in the room, all engrossed in their own reading.

  In what felt like no time, closing hour arrived. The sky outside had begun to darken, a surprise to Lily since she’d been too engrossed to notice the changing light. What she did notice, however, was her stiffness and her sore behind when she stood up. She took a few minutes to stretch before closing her computer and gathering her things.

  Lily was the last one to leave the reading room. At the entrance to the Selden End she paused, arms full of books and her laptop, and turned to stare longingly at the silent and majestic room. With darkness deepening outside and a subtle chill filling the empty room, Lily felt a sudden longing for her own familiar library at home. It might not be as old or beautiful, but it was always warm and much better lit than this ancient cavern with only desk lamps providing lonely pools of light in the dimness. Even so, Lily was reluctant to leave. She felt safe here. Sure of herself. Nothing seemed too hard or too frightening when she was in a library. It was as if the concentration of books created a bubble of space where time stood still and the world’s problems fell away.

  With a final sigh, Lily turned, signing out with the security porter and dropping off her armful of books at the staff desk. She stopped by the lockers to collect her belongings and steeled herself for the walk home through cold, empty streets. Though she couldn’t sense anyone nearby, magical or otherwise, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was following her. The stone buildings around her, which had seemed so majestic and awe-inspiring in the light of day, now felt ominous and lonely. She was extremely grateful to reach the well-lit, warm interior of the Macdonald Randolph hotel and decided to treat herself to a hot dinner before heading up to her room to do more research on her computer. Her stomach, easily ignored during long hours of reading, was now determined to make its displeasure known as it demanded immediate attention.

  A bowl of steaming minestrone soup and a roasted duck leg with a side of poached egg warmed her up considerably, and she polished it all off with gusto. Though it was technically rude to use one’s phone at the table, since she was alone Lily decided it didn’t matter and finally called her mother to see how things were going at Allen’s house. It was still the middle of the afternoon in Savannah, and Freda answered with eager delight, demanding all the details of their trip before Lily could even get out a single question.

  After satisfying her mother’s curiosity and concern, she finally managed to ask about Madam Barrington. At her question, Freda’s voice went from excited to subdued.

  “She’s not doing too well, the poor thing. The curse is sapping her strength and it’s all I can do to keep her warm enough and get her to eat at regular intervals. Allen has tried a few counter-curses, but so far they don’t seem to be helping much.”

  Lily felt her heart sink, but she refused to give in to despair. Madam Barrington was counting on them to stop John Faust, and she knew she couldn’t let herself be crippled by worry. Suddenly remembering what George Dee had said about going to Savannah to help, Lily felt a bit of optimism return. If anyone could help Madam Barrington, it was Allen and Mr. Dee. She only hoped they could find a cure in time.

  “Oh,” Lily said suddenly, realizing she hadn’t warned Freda or Allen that Mr. Dee was coming. Keeping her explanation succinct, she told her mother about their visit to Highthorne manor and how its master was coming to aid their efforts to restore Madam Barrington to health. In fact, depending on how early he’d been able to fly out, she warned that he could be arriving at any moment.

  Freda was momentarily overjoyed at the news, but then went into a flutter about needing to get an extra guest room ready to receive their honored guest. Lily smiled, wondering how Allen was coping with having a full-fledged “mother” in the house. For that matter, she wondered how Freda and Allen’s flock of construct “hand maids” were getting along. Knowing her mother would feel better once she was busy doing something, Lily said goodbye, admonishing her not to forget to pass on a greeting to Madam Barrington amid her frenzy of preparations. After hanging up Lily sat for a moment staring at her plate, now empty but for duck bones and a few sprigs of lettuce. Knowing it did no good to fret about something she couldn’t control, she shook herself from her reverie and headed up to her room.

  To her surprise, Sebastian was not back yet and so, of course, neither was Sir Kipling. She called Sebastian’s number only to get a standard voicemail prompt. Biting her lip, she resisted the urge to head back out and look for him. He was a night owl and an adventurer. It was unrealistic to expect him to be holed up in his room when there was a whole new city to explore.

  So instead, she went to her room and unpacked her bag, taking a shower and putting on something more comfortable before settling down at the room’s desk with her computer. Several of the books Cyril had listed were available in the Bodleian’s digital collection, and she used her new library account to access them.

  It was hard to concentrate, however, with anxiety nibbling away at the back of her mind. For the first half hour she kept stopping and listening every time footsteps passed her door. She even called Sebastian several more times, with no luck. Finally, annoyed at herself, she clamped down, put on headphones, and focused on her research.

  With a full belly and an exhausting day behind her, it wasn’t long before her eyelids began to droop. She struggled mightily, even calling room service to get a cup of strong, black tea in the hopes that caffeine would help perk her up. Somehow, however, it seemed to do the opposite.

  Finally, she could no longer resist laying her head down on her hands, intending to shut her eyes for a just a few minutes. Her awareness became muddled and for a while she drifted, not really asleep, but not awake, either. Though her eyes were closed, she began to see things against the darkness of her eyelids, ethereal lights and shapes taking form in a waking dream. A silver form danced back and forth, leaping and cavorting before her. She couldn’t quite see its shape. It could have been a fawn, or a cat, or a fox. The light got brighter and brighter, but the shape was still indistinct, as if seen through a haze.

  Lily sat up and rubbed her eyes, trying to see more clearly. Her body felt sluggish and her mind fuzzy like she’d just woken up, but at least she could make out the form now. It was a silver fox, and it sat in front of her, waiting expectantly. She knew it wanted her to follow it, though she wasn’t sure how she knew. Pushing back from her desk, which was now fuzzy and indistinct as the fox had once been, she stood up. Her hotel room faded around her, its walls, bed, and chairs barely visible in the dim twilight. But the fox wasn’t dim. It glowed a soft silver, so beautiful Lily wished she could stroke its shining fur.

  She stepped forward through the desk as if it weren’t even there, reaching for the fox. The strange twilight around her must have caused her to misjudge the distance, however, because the creature was no longer directly in front of her, but several yards ahead. So she took another step, and another. It seemed like she was making progress, but as soon as she drew close enough to touch it once again, it sprang away.

  “Wait!” Lily called after it.

  It stopped and looked over its shoulder at her, and she felt an insistent desire, even need, to follow it.

  “Lily!”

  The cry was so faint she barely heard it. She paused, wondering if she’d imagined the sound.

  “Lily, stop! Come back!”

  There it was again. She was sure she heard it this time. Turning her head to glance behind, she was distracted by a yip. Looking back at the fox, she saw that it had come closer and was looking at her intently. The need to step forward was almost overwhelming, and that beautiful silver light filled her mind. Everything else faded and was swallowed up in the darkness around her.

  She stepped forward.

  “Lily! Stop right there!”

  She tried to turn toward the voice. It was much louder this time, and closer. But she couldn’t move. Or perhaps, didn’t want
to. She hesitated, torn, distracted again by the fox, which had stepped even closer, almost close enough to touch. Lily reached out, eyes and mind filled with silver light. It was so close, so beautiful, so—

  Another form, not shining but dull and grey, filled her vision, partially blocking the silver light. The form hissed and yowled, taking a swipe at the fox, who leapt back.

  Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps behind her and someone grabbed her wrist, pulling her back with a jerk. Sebastian’s voice filled her head even as his tall form slid in front of her, completely blocking her view of the ethereal creature.

  “Get behind me and whatever you do, don’t let go.”

  Her first reaction had been to pull away from his sudden and violent hold on her, but his words made her pause, mind working sluggishly. She vaguely remembered rushing through similar darkness, holding fast to someone’s hand and knowing that she mustn’t stop, mustn’t let go. As the words echoed through her mind she gripped convulsively at Sebastian’s hand, his body the only warmth in a suddenly chill darkness. Shivering, Lily laced her fingers through his and held on tight.

  “You can’t have her,” Sebastian was saying, talking to someone Lily couldn’t see. “She’s not yours to take. She doesn’t know, doesn’t understand.”

  The fox growled, a musical yet grating sound that wasn’t at all inviting. As if a spell had been broken, Lily felt a terrible fear, wanting nothing more than to be back in her hotel room.

  Sebastian, apparently, had the same idea, because he was slowly backing up, nudging her to move as well. She looked behind them and could just barely see a faint light, not silvery, but warm and yellow and reflecting off dim shapes that looked vaguely bed- and chair-like. She headed for it, moving carefully and keeping a firm grip on Sebastian’s hand.

  “I don’t see why you’d want to see her. If you wanted to talk to me you could have just said so.”