Siren's Song: Shifting Magic Book Two

by Lysa Daley

  “Lacey, this is our head librarian, Master Mortimer AuClaire, Esquire,” Mr. Stroud introduced us.

  “No need to be so formal.” The librarian waved a dismissive hand. “Everyone just calls me Mr. Morty.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” I replied. “I’m very impressed with your library.”

  “Thank you. We have a transcript of that Merlin autobiography, you know. Of course, that’s only for people with the appropriate credentials and clearances.”

  “And how do you get those credentials?” I asked, again feeling like I was walking into some sort of trap.

  Mr. Stroud answered, “The easiest way would be to become part of the library staff.”

  “And how does one become part of the library staff?”

  “I thought you'd never ask,” Mr. Stroud said wryly. “As it happens, we are of looking for an after-hours library attendant. You wouldn’t happen to have any previous library experience?”

  They both stared at me expectantly.

  As it so happened, I had worked as a library assistant while I was getting my undergrad degree. That particular job mostly consisted of checking books in and out, not dealing with priceless first editions. Nevertheless, I still had experience on my resume.

  I sweetly smiled at Mr. Stroud. “Since you called me down here, I assume you know that I worked in the library while I was in college.”

  Stroud furrowed his brow in mock surprise. “Is that right?

  Despite his years, Mr. Morty had bright sparkling eyes. “My dear, Mr. Stroud here tells me you would be an excellent candidate to be my little night elf. It doesn't quite pay what the seekers earn. Of course, you wouldn't have to track down any dangerous characters, unless one of our agents has a seriously overdue book, of course.” He chuckled at his own joke.

  I didn't have to think about it very long. This was a good opportunity for me, if the hours worked with my class schedule. And recently, I hadn't had very many good opportunities.

  “Thank you. I would be very interested in this job,” I said, feeling a twinge of annoyance that their ploy had worked so easily, while also feeling gratitude that maybe I was going to actually have a stable job that would help me pay my rent and tuition.

  “Excellent.” Stroud clapped his hands and spun on his heels. “I’ll let you two talk. I’ll be up in my office if anyone needs me.” With that, Stroud swept out of the library.

  Mr. Morty opened his arms wide. “Let me give you the official tour.”

  I followed as he ambled farther into the large library. Because he needed a cane to walk, he moved at a snail’s pace.

  “The library stays open late on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday evenings until 9pm. I’m here until 5:30. But after that, I need someone to work the library desk from 5pm until 9pm. You see, we have certain agents who can only…” Mr. Morty hesitated, looking for the right word. “…access these resources in the evening.”

  I wasn't sure exactly what that meant. Did that mean some other agents were vampires who could only come out after dark? There were other supernaturals who also preferred the evening hours, like necromancers and cryptozoologists. I wasn't so sure I liked the idea of being alone in a library with any of them.

  As if reading my thoughts, he explained, “But I assure you that anyone who works for the Society has been thoroughly vetted by the head office and the international branch. Of course, we also have top notch security. While you might find yourself alone in the library, you would be perfectly safe. Come, I’ll show you the circulation room,” he said, slowly making his way toward the front desk.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked.

  “I’ve been the West Coast’s head librarian since the turn of the century,” he replied.

  “Almost twenty years?” I nodded.

  “Almost 120 years,” he corrected me with a wink.

  “Oh, of course.” I’d forgotten that elves lived for a very long time. “That other century.”

  As he shuffled along with his cane, he continued to tell me his life story. “But, of course, before that, I was a seeker too.”

  “You were?” I said, not hiding the surprise in my voice.

  He softly chuckled. “Yes, my dear, I wasn’t always an old cripple like now.” He tapped the side of his lame leg. “In fact, I got this injury fighting a werebear that had been terrorizing a small mountain community back in France.”

  “That’s terrible,” I said, feeling even more grateful that I’d decided not to go back out in the field as a seeker.

  “Oh, but I loved every minute of being a seeker. At one time, I brought in more bounties than any other Society seeker. I even met my dearest wife out working a case.”

  “Really? Was she a member of the Society as well?”

  “Back in those days — the dark ages, really — they didn’t let the fairer sex work for the Society. No, she was the one who’d been taken by the werebear.”

  “You’re kidding me?”

  “True story.” He held up his right hand. “He had her tied up in a cave. Why do you think I fought him so hard? That’s what love will do to you…”

  We’d slowly made our way back to the formal circulation area. Every library had a back room like this, where all the real work, like cataloguing and recording materials, got done.

  “Right in here, my dear,” he said as I followed him back. “And do you have a beau?”

  The question caught me off guard, and for some crazy reason, I felt my cheeks redden. “No, I’m too busy with school and everything.”

  “Never be too busy for love,” he said with a finger pointing up in the air. “It’s the best part of life. And don’t get discouraged. One day you might be powerful enough to be a seeker too.”

  “Thank you,” I said humbly. I didn’t want to tell him that I’d already turned down the opportunity to work as a seeker.

  Then he winked at me. “Between you and me, I still get involved in a bit of fieldwork when the situation calls for it.”

  “You mean, you assist the agents on cases?”

  “Everyone thinks that working back in the library is nothing but shelving and unshelving, shelving and unshelving. But I’m here to tell you that we control the information. And information is power! You remember that, young lady. You remember that.”

  “I will, sir.” I nodded. He was a sweet man, but I felt a little sorry for him stuck in here when he obviously missed his glory days out in the field.

  As we approached the long, wide circulation room, I saw a pair of life-sized paper dolls moving around, organizing and alphabetizing books onto three different carts.

  “Are you a paper wizard?” I asked.

  He laughed and nodded. “Among other things.”

  Paper witches and wizards could, as the name suggested, enchant paper. It was a dying magical art form. There were only a few places left in the world where you could learn this trade.

  The dolls, made out of glossy fashion magazine paper, were razor thin when they turned to the side. Despite the flimsy material out of which they had been constructed, they were able to lift and move stacks of books.

  “I call them Hansel and Gretel,” he said. They did resemble little German children out of a storybook. “They’re terribly useful for a weak old geezer like me. I’d be happy to give you the basic incantation so they can assist you as well. Do you have your wand?”

  I hesitated. “Um… it’s at home.” I lied. “But I would love to learn some paper magic. And you’re no old geezer.”

  “Bring your wand next time.” He turned his twinkling eyes to me and said, “And for your information, I happen to be pushing 250-years-old.”

  I knew that elves lived very long lives, even if they were mixed with human blood.

  “Well, you don’t look a day over two hundred.”

  He seemed pleased by this. “Are you trying to sweet talk me?”

  I chucked. “Well—”

  Suddenly, my muscles instinctively clenched as something
came streaking toward my head from above. A headless woman in a tattered white dress whooshed over me, a bloody knife dangling from her bony fingers.

  I screamed and ducked, shielding myself with a raised arm. A trail of cold air left me instantly chilled as the ghostly woman disappeared through the ceiling near the front of the library.

  “Oh my dear, sorry about that.” Mr. Morty was unfazed. “I was just going to mention that we have something of a spirit problem. That was Headie, our library ghost.”

  “Headie?” I guess the name was ironic because she lacked a head.

  “Yes, she’s honestly harmless.”

  “I don’t know a lot about ghosts but that looked like a headless ice maiden. They’re not generally considered harmless.”

  Ghosts, like everything in the supernatural world, were broken down into categories. An ice maiden was a dangerous female ghost who wore flowing dresses. They frequently appeared to be overcome with either guilt or grief, and wanted to take humans with them to experience their anguish. Jilted brides were a popular form of ice maiden.

  “Technically, yes.” His head bobbled side to side. “But she’s really harmless.”

  “Even with the huge knife?”

  “As a former librarian herself, I know she wouldn’t stab anyone on the library staff.” He looked at me and frowned. “Guess we should get you a badge. Just in case she’s confused.”

  “Does that mean she’s harmed patrons?”

  He just chuckled and didn’t directly answer. “She was the former head librarian. Apparently, she fell in love with one of our agents. Right before her death, they had planned to run away together.”

  “And that killed her?”

  “No, his wife killed her.”

  I cringed.

  “Beheaded her with a machete. It was many years ago, but she floats through these halls to this day.” He hesitated. “Sometimes… she mistakes other women for his wife.”

  “Then what happens?”

  “Oh, nothing really. She can be a bit aggressive, but remember, she can’t actually touch you. We really should get you a badge.”

  Now I wasn’t sure I wanted this job.

  “I’ve actually grown quite fond of her. You will too, in time. They say she’s looking for her missing head.” Mr. Morty continued, “She takes the very same path, from the back of the library stacks, straight through, then out the front, so she shouldn’t startle you too much.”

  “Good to know.”

  Why was nothing ever easy? I was up for a job that actually used my skills and a little bit of brain power, but there was a chance a machete-wielding ice maiden might try to take off my head.

  Mr. Morty gave me a very simple spell to keep her at bay. The wraith was mostly seen late at night, but he promised if I kept my wand with me, then I should have no problem. I decided it wasn’t a great time to mention I couldn’t find my old magic wand.

  “Can you stay a while tonight, and I’ll show you the ropes?”

  “Then I have the job? Officially?”

  “You’re hired, kid! You can start tonight.”

  My main job was to make sure everyone checked out anything they wanted. Apparently, some of the agents and other employees were notorious for just walking out with books and not properly recording them. For this reason, there was a very strong ward on the front door that he promised, with another twinkly-eyed wink, would stop any thieves.

  After Mr. Morty left for the night, I got myself situated as best I could, ready for the onslaught of patrons. But for the first ninety minutes of my shift, no one even stepped foot in the library.

  From 7pm to 8:30pm, three people wandered in. The first two were administrative assistants. One was returning books on ancient tribal magic for his boss. The second assistant worked in the legal department and was looking for a law book in the reference section that laid out the exact wording of banking procedures in Haiti. I’d never dealt with the law library before so it took me a moment to understand how the books were filed.

  All in all, it was a pretty slow night.

  By 8:45, my stomach wouldn’t stop growling. I was getting ready to close at 9pm when I heard a voice say, “You must've done something really bad in order to get stuck working back here.”

  Chapter Five

  Stryker waltzed into the library wearing his uniform of black combat pants, black boots, and his black biker jacket. I silently wondered how many pairs of identical combat pants he owned.

  “For your information, I happily accepted this position when Mr. Stroud and Mr. Morty offered it to me.”

  “Why in the world would you let those stuffy old birds lock you in here when you could be out in the field doing work that really matters?” He leaned on the long circulation desk.

  “You mean like getting perfectly innocent civilians sent to the hospital?” I glared, obviously referencing Sam’s situation.

  Stryker frowned. He might’ve been cocky, but I suspected that he actually had a sliver of a heart. “Yeah, well, that was unfortunate. That sort of thing almost never happens.”

  “Are you here looking for something?” I changed the subject. I wasn't really in the mood to talk about what had happened to Sam, nor the fact that his memory of the vampire attack might’ve been somehow seeping back in. Especially because I knew Stryker would happily go back over to the hospital and wipe Sam’s memory all over again if he knew that memories from the incident with Bernardo might come back to bite the Society. “Or did you just come in here to harass me?”

  “I didn’t know you were here.” Stryker leaned closer. “But if I had, I definitely would have dropped in just to harass you. However, as it happens, I am in need of some assistance, Miss Librarian. I’m doing some research on mermaid attacks.”

  I swiveled toward the computer and typed “mermaid” into the catalog software. I couldn't help myself. My curiosity got the better of me. Mr. Stroud had mentioned something about mermaids earlier. “Is this for new case?”

  He laughed. “Well now… wouldn't you like to know?”

  “Is there any harm in me knowing?” I replied, a little more defensively than I meant to sound. “Just because I asked a question doesn't mean that I want to go back out in the field with you.”

  He smirked. “We had some reports of what we suspect is unusual mermaid activity down in the South Bay with regard to a fugitive we’re after.”

  “What happened?”

  He held up a wanted poster of a very skinny, papery white man. “This low-rent, pasty-ass, necromancing, wizard dirtbag named Boris Bulgakov jumped bail with the magistrate.”

  Being a necromancer, or a wizard who raised the dead, eventually turned the person into an albino. It was like restoring life to the dead, slowly draining the very life and color out of the wizard.

  “Where’d he jump bail?” I asked.

  “They popped him for trying to raise a couple of the recently departed at a morgue in the valley. A reliable source saw the guy hanging out by the beach down in Redondo, talking to a couple sea queens.”

  Sea queen was slang for a mermaid.

  “Mermaids are generally extremely law-abiding. They have a strict honor code.”

  He smirked and shrugged one shoulder. “Hey, I’m just telling you what I know. And what I know is that the guy just vanished. We were getting pings from his cell phone then nothing. Also, the scrying glass can locate him but only temporarily, and then it's like he's vanished from the face of our Earth.”

  In the supernatural world there was more than one plane of existence. That’s why he said our Earth. If you knew what you were doing, you could cross the veil and hop over into the faerie realm for a quick visit. The trouble was if you didn’t know what you were doing, you’d more than likely get stuck in the summerlands or the winterlands for the rest of eternity. Demons and ghosts also crossed over from another realm into ours, and that was even more dangerous and unpredictable.

  And then there was the underwater realm.

 
“So you think the necromancer is crossing into the underwater kingdom via the mermaids?”

  “Bingo!” He smiled. “See, you’re a natural.”

  “Except I don’t think a mermaid is helping him. Why would they?”

  “That I don’t know. But I don’t think the merladies are quite as innocent as you might believe. They’re just good at not getting busted.”

  “You know that from experience?”

  He raised his eyebrows and murmured, “Oh yeah, honey. I got some personal experience with the sea-queens.”

  Yuck. I forgot who I was talking to.

  I scribbled the reference numbers of a couple books on the various types of underwater and sea creatures on a slip of paper.

  “Follow me,” I said, walking around from behind the circulation desk toward the reference stacks. We had a good selection of material on water supernaturals. A whole other world lived under the oceans that covered three-quarters of the planet. They got along just fine without us air-breathers on the surface as long as everyone kept their distance.

  “You already know your way around this place pretty good,” Stryker said, trailing behind me.

  “What can I say? I’m a quick study.”

  But the truth was libraries were pretty much all organized the same way.

  We arrived at the correct section, and I located three different books cataloging the various kind of merfolk. Stryker quickly flipped through them, and I wasn't surprised when he chose the one that had the most pictures. I reshelved the other two, and we returned to the circulation desk.

  “You can keep it for two weeks,” I said as I walked. But I realized he wasn’t behind me. I turned to see him at a small dark section of books that were separated by tall, scrolling iron bars.

  “Got the key for this area?” he asked, peering through the bars into the dark area.