“All good and true book-lovers practice the pleasing and improving avocation of reading in bed ... No book can be appreciated until it has been slept with and dreamed over.”

― Eugene Field, The Love Affairs of a Bibliomaniac

Chapter 2

Waking up in the bed I’d slept in countless times in my childhood was more than a little disconcerting. The sun was lazy in winter and on the wrong side of the house to where my windows faced. I didn’t wake until nine in the morning and even then I had to pry my eyes open, my phone flashing brightly, letting me know that my absence had been noted. I sat up in the bed that still smelled of my youth and picked up my phone that reminded me I was an adult. I flicked through them, screening the messages into those I answered now, the ones I could afford to answer later and then those to be avoided.

I let Casey know I’d be staying a few days longer than I had originally thought. She was probably on nightshift and wouldn’t answer until later.

I let dad know I was there and handling things and to not trouble himself with coming.

I didn’t need him here on top of everything else.

I deleted any from Eden and wished I could be as efficient as doing so to get him from my mind.

“Get the point already.” I muttered and got up. “Right…enough time wasted.”

I had intended on looking over the house and grounds more thoroughly, especially now it was light but the cupboards were alarmingly empty and even the food that was there, wasn’t what I would normally eat or be able to cook. I’d have to spend some of my precious funds on food. I knew dad would transfer some cash happily but I’d have to be broke to get past my pride in order to do so.

“Aunt Jo comes first.”

Her medi database card was all the medical information I could gather. I knew there was a room that had been her office but it was locked and for the life of me, I couldn’t find a key. She probably had employee records inside and needed to keep them confidential.

I had to suffer my growling belly as I locked the house up tight, shouldered my bag, wrapped the scarf firmly around my neck and headed to the hospital. While the nurse at the ICU station processed the info I’d brought, I looked in on Aunt Jo.

She didn’t look any different to what she had the day before.

“Good morning,” I said, sitting down, “just wanted to let you know ‘House of Figs’ is still standing and your plants are still alive. I haven’t been out the back yet but I promise I will.” I looked around the bland room. “I wonder…maybe I could bring you a pot plant to brighten your room a little. I’ll have to check if its allowed.” I tapped my teeth together, wondering what else I could say. “It was weird sleeping in my old bed…you haven’t changed anything in there. I mean, it’s clean but…you could have turned it into a study or another library room…or a gym…” I grimaced. “It’s almost like you were just waiting for me to come back. People say, you’re always welcome…but I’ve never known anyone to keep a room exactly the same for ten years. You even left the copy of ‘Alice in Wonderland’ that you bought me for my birthday on the bedside table. Who does that?”

I rubbed my eyes, feeling the weight of guilt and broken promises. “You shouldn’t have been so faithful to me, Aunt Jo. You must have known when I promised I’d visit, that I never would…”

“Miss St James?”

“Yes?”

The nurse smiled from the doorway, holding out the card I’d given him. “I’ve everything we need now. We’ll look into your aunt’s medical records and see if there was any recorded symptoms or possible underlying issues that could have contributed to the coma.”

“Thank you.” I stood up. “Do you think I could bring a pot plant with me? She loves plants and I thought something green in here…”

“Sure.” He nodded. “If she wakes up on her own and sees it, she’ll know someone cares about her.”

The invisible knife in my chest twisted a little more.

“Yeah.” I smiled weakly and slung my bag on my back. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Buying food in Glenwilde was not a budget deal. If I had a car, I would have driven to the outskirts of the city or at least somewhere that had one of those large discount supermarkets. But I had to shop in a township where a big glaring neon sign stating, our prices are unbeatable, would have been considered contrary to the heritage landscape. So the ‘corner store’ I went to, while hardly pokey, was also independent of the large chain supermarkets. As such, their prices were higher.

And then, when I saw how much I’d purchased, I knew I couldn’t get away with carrying it back to ‘House of Figs’ so I had to spend money on a taxi. At least I wouldn’t put my lungs through more punishment but I was starting to think my bank account might complain more.

I watched the meter tick over, cringing as the numbers climbed higher and paid the fee, surprised my card didn’t backfire. The taxi driver helped get my bags out of the boot but that seemed to be the extent of his services and he drove off. I opened the gate and shuffled them all inside, closing it behind me. I heaved one onto my shoulder, two more in my hands and staggered to the front door.

I was so preoccupied with the weight and concentrating on reaching the door, I didn’t see the young man sitting on the steps until I was almost on top of him. Despite the imminent threat of being stepped on, he didn’t look up or even seemed to be aware of me. His head was bowed, his face focused on a portable gaming console in his hands and he was wearing headphones.

Considering how I almost gave Gary a heart attack the day before, I was hesitant in getting his attention too loudly.

“Uh…hello?” He didn’t seem to have heard me. I raised my tone. “Hello!” Still nothing. The straps of the bag were biting into my shoulder and I couldn’t believe he hadn’t heard me, so my ire was on a sharp incline. “Hey!” I half shouted while nudging him with my foot. “Hello!”

“Huh?” He looked up in astonishment at my presence. “What?” I stared at him, aghast. Suddenly the console buzzed and he looked down and swore softly. “Damn it! KO’d and I lost all my EXP points for that battle.”

I was stunned and a little angry. “What are you doing on my doorstep?”

“I was trying to level up and now you’ve cost me all my healing items. I’ll have to do some serious grinding to get enough to restock…jeez…”

“You were trying to do what now and you’ve got to do what to restock?” I shook my head. “Who are you?” He wasn’t paying attention to me, fiddling with his console, muttering softly under his breath. “Hey!”

“I’m trying to concentrate!” He grunted and mucked about a little more before switching it off with vehemence and tucking it into the pouch on the backpack strap across his chest. He stood up and I was suddenly aware that he was quite tall and definitely stronger than me. My instinct wanted to step back but I was too angry now to pay my instincts any heed. “Who are you?”

I gaped at him. “Who am I? Who the hell are you?”

“Jet Robertson.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Clearly Pops told you about his useless, lazy grandson but forgot to actually give you my name.”

I blinked. “You’re Gary Dunn’s grandson?” He nodded. “What are you doing here?”

“You got a parcel.” He jerked his head towards the veranda where I saw a box nestled against the railing. “Pops saw the delivery truck out the front and was worried someone might nick it so he sent me over to watch it.”

I felt a little bad that he was actually there to do me a favour but my irritation was again too high to give him any consideration.

“Fat lot of good you were as a guardian when I could have stolen it out from under your nose without you even aware, you were so preoccupied with your…gaming thing.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask to come over here and play watchdog. I figured it was the only way to get Pops off my back.”

I rolled my eyes, dropped a bag to the veranda so I could reach my keys and unlocked the front door, my shoulder crying out in relief as I eased the bag from it. I leaned out and grabbed the bag I’d left, seeing Jet standing on the steps, looking disgruntled and awkward.

“Job done. Go home.” I grunted at him, resentful of him watching me as I hauled everything inside.

“I would but I can see Pops in the front yard trimming his roses and I’m bound to get an earful, especially after you dob on me.” He folded his arms.

I rolled my eyes. “Want me to put a good word in for you? Go get the bags from the gate and bring them inside.”

I left him to make up his own mind, not sure what he would do and took the bag with the cold goods up to the kitchen to put straight in the fridge. When I came down, Jet was standing in the café with the bags in his hands.

He was tall and a little gangly with large hands. He had messy brown hair. It might have been meant to be styled into a trendy quiff or current pop star do but he’d clearly had a shower, towel dried it and left it to sit however it landed. He was dressed in black jeans and beaten-up red runners, a long sleeve t-shirt and a short sleeve over the top with some sort of logo on it that made me think of something ‘gaming’ or geeky. Given the nip in the air, I was surprised he wasn’t shivering.

“Didn’t know where you wanted them.” He said vaguely.

“I’ll take them up. You’ve done your part.” I insisted, wanting him to leave sooner rather than later. I’d prefer Gary with his bad back over his begrudging grandson. “I’ll put in a good word to Gary.”

Jet shrugged but didn’t leave. He looked around, a little twitchy like he was standing on static electricity. I couldn’t think of any small talk to make. I just wanted him gone.

“This place is pretty cool.” He offered at last.

“Yeah, it is.” I agreed.

“Pops said it was your aunt’s café?”

“Still is.”

“So she isn’t…”

“Isn’t what?”

Jet shrugged again. “I dunno…the way Pops talked about her…she was in the hospital and it was pretty serious…like terminal serious.”

Seeing the way Jet was not the best listener, I was pretty sure he’d mixed up his facts.

“She’s in a coma,” I explained firmly and simply and held his gaze, “it’s not terminal.”

He looked away from my gaze. “Aren’t comas terminal?”

My spine trembled with fear at the question I avoided in my own heart being spoken aloud.

“Not all.” I said with more confidence than I felt. “In fact, people come out of comas all the time.” Now I was just embellishing.

Jet just nodded, his headphone sitting around his neck. He still didn’t leave. I didn’t know how to get rid of him.

“Is that your aunt?” I followed his gaze and saw a framed photograph of myself and Aunt Jo on the café counter. She was wearing a hat I’d designated her to wear for the tea party I’d laid out for her, complete with undrinkable coffee and a plate of chocolate chip biscuits. The fact that she displayed the photo so prominently in her beloved café was both charming and guilt inducing.

“Yeah, that’s Aunt Jo.”

“And you?”

I nodded, looking at my long, dark hair and blue eyes that seemed too big for my little face. I had a crown of plastic flowers around my locks and was wearing a rainbow striped long sleeve top and a denim pinafore over the top. Even though it was normal for a young girl to wear, especially as she found her own footing in fashion, I still felt a blush of embarrassment.

“You look young.”

“I was ten.” Jet stared at the photo and I felt like he was waiting for more information. “It was Aunt Jo’s birthday and I threw her a tea party.” Even though she looked ridiculous in the hat she wore, squeezed around a table too small for her, my aunt was smiling broadly without any hint of insincerity.

“She looks nice.”

“Yeah she was…I mean she is.” Jet didn’t say anything about my faux pas.

“Pops said you don’t live in Glenwilde.”

“No, I moved away with my parents before I turned eleven.”

“How long ago?”

“Um…about ten years.” Gosh, would he ever leave?

“Where too?”

“Paxton.”

“Isn’t that in the city?” I nodded. “That’s not that far. Did you visit?”

What was with the third degree?

“No, I didn’t visit.”

He looked at me. “Not once?”

My jaw tightened. “No.”

“Not in ten years?”

“Oh my goodness?!” I exclaimed. “What’s with the interrogation? What are you? The niece police? No, I didn’t visit once after we moved. I’ve been in the city this entire time. I only came back yesterday. What do you want now? My drivers licence with residential address?”

Jet huffed and turned on his heel and walked out the front door. I slammed the door after him then put my hands on my face, not sure if my tears were ones of rage or sorrow. I sniffed them back and breathed out shakily. I took the bags of shopping upstairs then realised I’d left the parcel on the veranda. I went back downstairs and opened the door, leaning out to grab it.

I realised Jet, though having left the house, was standing on the lawn in front of the fig tree.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It was an impressive sight and one of the listed ‘must see’ sights of Glendwilde. But he wasn’t looking at it. He was staring at the ground.

He looked a little lost.

I knew biting his head off had more to do with my own issues than his questions, even if he had asked them with all the social niceties of a police interrogation. I swallowed down my pride and walked towards him. I half expected him to have his headphones back on and glued to his game console but he wasn’t doing anything like that. He was just staring at the ground in the shade of the tree on a cool day.

I felt like I needed to apologise but I couldn’t quite figure out how to do so.

I stood next to him, wondering if he even knew I was there.

The leaves of the fig tree rustled overhead. Because of the reach of its branches, we were well beneath the overhang. The reach of the sunshine ended behind us.

“It’s a big tree, isn’t it?” I said lamely when I couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

Jet lifted his head and looked up at it.

“It’d be a match for Yggdrasil.”

“Huh?”

“It’s the name of the tree of life from Norse religion.”

“Oh.” I had a vague recollection of what he was talking about. Surely one of the books I’d read when I was young mentioned a tree whose name I couldn’t pronounce. “It’s not really tall enough to be the Faraway Tree.”

“What’s that?”

“A tall tree that grew in the Enchanted Forest.”

“What’s the game called?”

“Huh?” I blinked. “It’s not a game. It’s a book.”

“Oh…” He said in a voice that led me to believe I’d lost his attention.

I stuck my hands in my pockets in an enough to keep my fingertips from freezing. “It’s a Moreton Bay Fig. They don’t usually grow in climates as cold as this. Goodness knows how Aunt Jo kept it alive for so long…”

“I doubt it had anything to do with your aunt,” I ground my teeth and wanted to lash out at him again when he added, “I mean, anything that big would have to be decades old. If Pops had been living in Glenwilde when he was a boy, he might remember it being little…”

“Oh.” I nodded. I kept trying to figure out how to apologise but there was something about Jet that made him…hard to approach.

In the end, it had nothing to do with me.

“I’m not good with people.” He said abruptly and I looked at him. He didn’t return my gaze, staring at the base of the tree. “I’d rather interact online with avatars than talk to them in real life. People are…messy.”

“We are that.” I said quietly.

“I don’t get what they’re feeling either. And when I try to be social…I mess up.” I felt bad, realising he was talking about what happened before. “Why can’t people be as simple as they are in games?” I didn’t have an answer for that. He didn’t seem to need me to respond. Quietly we stood and I tried not to shiver. Jet put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He half handed it to me. I glanced at him, confused, taking it instinctively. “I don’t have your number.”

“Oh…”

“In case you need anything…” He shrugged and looked away. “Or not…whatever…”

I wasn’t sure I could call him about anything but the gesture was kind, if a little awkward. I found his contacts and entered my number in.

“I’ll send myself a message from your phone and then I’ll have your number.” I explained, tapping in a simple message. “There.” I handed him the phone. He took it with a glance in my direction that didn’t meet my eyes and strode away, out the gate and back to Gary’s place. I was left, wondering what on earth I would ever call him for before I realised that I was starving and freezing. I hurried inside and made myself some well deserved lunch.

That afternoon I was finally able to check on the Observatory.

Out the back of ‘House of Figs’ was a paved courtyard surrounded by even more lawn, garden bed, pot plants and a circular portion in the middle was shaded by a trellis covered in climbing plants like a grape vine, a yellow rose and a bright pink bougainvillea. I knew, from social media posts, that the courtyard was a popular place for wedding receptions, anniversary celebrations and birthday milestone dinners. Aunt Jo was not keen on loud parties and yahoos so ‘House of Figs’ had a reserved, upper class reputation about it. Plus, she would not have been impressed with revellers stumbling over her vegetable garden bed or succulent patch.

At the back of the property was the Observatory, possibly the most famous of Glenwilde’s icons even eclipsing the giant fig tree.

It was a two storey tower built in a decagon shape out of the same off white stone as the house. Adorning the exterior, every second side had an arched, double glass doorway entrance, trimmed in dark grey. On every other exterior side were fantastic carved motifs. There was a fearsome dragon head with its jaws opened wide. On another was a wolf, snarling with sharp, pointed teeth. There were three faces as well, filling in the final three sides. There was a man with a dark expression, eyes glowering at me. In contrast, the other held his chin high, resolute and strong. The final face was in between and showed next to no emotion at all although I always thought one of his eyebrows had a slightly quizzical arch. On the second storey there were small arched windows and on top was a domed roof in heritage red.

I didn’t really know if it had been designed and built with observing the stars in mind but the large shape of it and the domed roof had triggered its nickname which was now what it was known as. It was even engraved on the plaque fixed on the side of the building.

I lifted a hook catch from one of the double doors and eased myself inside.

While the rest of ‘House of Figs’ was Aunt Jo’s motivation and income, the Observatory was her true passion. On the five sides where the doors were not, were books shelves that went from the floor to the base line of the small arched windows in the second storey. And there wasn’t a single scrap of wall space to be seen. Every shelf was lined with books.

I put my hands on my hips and shook my head.

“Aunt Jo, the bibliophile.” I laughed softly.

Growing up, even in my teen years, I had always thought the term ‘bibliophile’ referred to something heinous, especially the way my parents used to say it about Aunt Jo. They could never understand her obsession with books. Looking around the Observatory, I doubted there were many in the world who could. Only others with the same fascination would look at the thousands of books safely and deliberately set upon the shelves with joy and not dismay or reproach.

I was overwhelmed. The Observatory had been a part of ‘House of Figs’ for many years and I had loved to play in and around it but back then, Aunt Jo had only filled a third of the shelves from her already impressive collection. To see it so completed, to realise the volume of books it had taken to nestle into every shelf available…

“Wow…” I breathed, turning around on the beautiful tiles floor with an intricate white, black and gold pattern. I looked up to see the chandelier hanging from the peak of the dome. There were also wall lamps on either side of the doorways. They were quietly dark now as the glass doors and even the little windows let in plenty of light. I had seen photos of wedding ceremonies performed at night within the Observatory. The effect was magical.

Nothing seemed disturbed so I left the tower and latched the doors shut.

I found a hose and turned it on, attempting to water the garden. Knowing that they were probably thirsty after days of neglect, I did my best to water them thoroughly. However, after an hour, I’d only managed to soak a portion of the garden.

“How does Aunt Jo do this?” I exclaimed, trying to get the hose to reach. “It would take all day to water all the plants…and this hose doesn’t even reach!”

I had to give up on the hose and filled up a watering jug. Tending to all the plants took ages and I was exhausted when it was done. I ended up feeling a little resentful of the whole endeavour…and then I realised just how hypocritical it was of me to think that and kept going just that little bit longer.

I had to have a long, hot shower to rinse off all the dirt and massage my muscles. Dinner was another simple meal but at least it was cooked and not out of a packet.

I ate at the kitchen counter which was a small prep space that overlooked the courtyard and the Observatory. The afternoon sun was glancing off its westward facing sides and it looked quite regal.

“Goodness knows what the owner was thinking when they constructed it.” I murmured to myself as I ate. “Maybe they wanted something ridiculous to get attention…seems an extreme way to do it…especially as the plaque doesn’t even list who built it. Whoever it was didn’t even end up gaining any fame from it.”

I checked my phone. A text from my dad caught my eye. He was suggesting that the house was too much for me to handle but rather than offer to come to Glenwilde himself, he suggested Kendra come.

I cringed. I did not need my near perfect, overachieving and absolutely stunning cousin turning up and pointing out that everything I was doing, was wrong.

Besides, it wasn’t as if I was running the café. The closed sign was on the gate and I’d checked the social media websites to make sure it was listed as ‘closed until further notice’. The last thing I needed were unexpected visitors turning up and making demands.

I wrote back and explained that there was no need to trouble Kendra and that I was perfectly capable of watering plants and looking after the building.

Casey had messaged back after she’d woken up from nightshift, offering to send up some more of my things. I thought about it for a bit.

“I think my current clothes will last for a few days and it’s not as if I can’t do my own washing.” I mused. “Besides, sending a suitcase up on the train costs about as much as a ticket. I’ll manage for now.”

There was a message from the supervisor at my job, stating that I was expected to be at work in the morning. I felt sick at the sight of it and, childishly, deleted it, avoiding the message altogether.

After dinner I went out the front and watered the plants in the remainder of the sunshine. I saw Gary in his yard and he waved at me. I waved back before heading inside. There were plenty of books to read but I couldn’t muster the energy of starting a new story so I picked up ‘Alice in Wonderland’. Immediately the little haikus fell out. I set them aside and flicked through the book.

“She really was a bit of a silly girl.” I murmured, studying the illustrations. “But then again, it was a really silly place to be. Fun and scary but very silly.”

I was exhausted again and lay down, feeling the paper beneath my hand. I lifted the haikus up and read the words again.

“Meridian moon…what is that?” I did a search on my phone. “A meridian is a location's longitude (a line that runs from the North Pole to the South Pole of Earth). When we use the word meridian, it's usually referring to the moment that the Moon crosses or passes a location's meridian; this marks the exact moment when the Moon reaches the highest position in the sky.” I frowned. “That doesn’t help. A song without words? That’s a melody…so why not say that?” I set it aside and look at the next one. “Bejewelled tombs…remnants of empires forgot…maybe a pharaohs tomb? Maybe the mummy is asleep in its casket and waking it will release a curse?” I paused. “That’s rubbish Bethany.” I turned to the next one. “If I only had a heart…that’s a line from ‘The Wizard of Oz’. It’s the Tinman. But he was a man who became tin. This says ‘made in man’s image’…Aunt Jo would know that so…” I skipped over the one about taint or flaw and holy rite, baffled from the outset and looked at the last one. “Forever I thirst…What’s thirsty? The ocean? It always drinks from the rivers that run into it. Scarlet ribbons? Scarlet is red…who is wearing red ribbons? Red Riding Hood? And thawing winter eternal sounds like ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’.”

I shook my head and laid them aside. “Aunt Jo, you’re too clever for me. They don’t make sense at all.”

I switched off the light and lay in the dark, my mind running over and over the words of the final haiku.

“Forever I thirst. Scarlet ribbons, pulsing…warm. Thaw deathless winter…Forever I thirst…”

I fell asleep with the words spinning around my mind, staining my dreams with tendrils of red while a heartbeat throbbed and my body grew warm. The dream drove me to waking not long before dawn and I threw the covers off, desperate to cool down. It wasn’t as if it was an intimate or passionate or even frightening dream. It was just so intense that I suddenly overheated. The chill of the night was a blessed relief and I lay, trying to calm my heart, feeling the blood in my veins throb wildly.

“My pulse is out of control.” I gasped then paused, the word triggering memory in me. “Pulse…pulsing? Scarlet ribbons…not ribbons like streamers…ribbons…of blood.”

I sat up and turned the light on, the brightness searing my eyes cruelly but I fought through the blindness, scraping the haikus into my hand. My vision was hopelessly blurry and I had to blink constantly to bring the paper back into focus.

“Forever I thirst. Scarlet ribbons, pulsing…warm. Thaw deathless winter. If scarlet ribbons are warm blood pulsing…then forever I thirst…Aunt Jo is writing about vampires! I mean, what could be colder than a vampire’s intent? To suck the warm blood from living veins?” I was shaking I was so excited. “Aunt Jo is leading me to a book,” I glanced at the rest of the pieces of paper, “no…she’s leading me to five books…five books…the Observatory!”

Dressing gowns are notoriously bulky to pack so I hadn’t bothered taking up valuable space in my overnight bag with one. But nights are usually coldest before dawn and in Glenwilde that was even more than true. It was absolute. I threw aside my pride and grabbed Aunt Jo’s dressing gown and ugg boots. Thankfully she was taller than me so they fit over my bed socks and the dressing gown wrapped around me, tied tightly at the waist. I shoved the haikus into my pocket and ran downstairs and into the courtyard.

If I had stopped for a moment I would have realised just how stupid it was to be running around in the hour before dawn. But after the intense dream and the revelation of the meaning of the haikus, I knew there was no way I was going back to sleep.

Besides, the Observatory looked like something out of a fantasy novel when I switched on all the lights. It had a magic about it that was not visible during the day. It had all the presence of a wizard’s tower, all the thrill of a dragon’s den and the danger of an evil lord that needed to be vanquished.

Upon entering I looked immediately to my left and began studying the bookshelves. Yesterday I had been too overwhelmed to take note of what was where but now, I had a feeling I knew.

“Vampires…vampires…Nope, this is all about robots and artificial intelligence.” I skipped past the next set of double doors to another wall of books. “Dragons, dragons…nope. Vampires…here!” I looked at the rows and rows of books, going from gothic mysteries to modern retellings. Everything from ‘Dracula’ to ‘Twilight’ was there and even more. “I didn’t realise there were so many stories about vampires…” The main ones seemed to be at my eye level and I studied them, suddenly stumped once more. “Well…which one Aunt Jo? Which book are you talking about?”

The imminent defeat was deflating. How could I know which book she meant?

My eyes grazed across the spines, willing myself to understand my aunt’s mind.

“Vampires…vampires…more vampires… ‘Synthetic Love’? What?”

I slid it from the shelf, the cover adorned with a futuristic city and flipped it over to read the back.

“This is a book about robots…what’s it doing here?” I glanced at the first shelf I’d looked at upon entering the Observatory and took the book over to it. “You, my friend, have been mis-shelved.” I told it kindly. “Now…where on earth do I put you…” It seemed sacrilegious to mess around with Aunt Jo’s shelving system but the greater transgression would have been to leave the errant book where it had been. “You look like you belong somewhere around…what’s ‘The History of the Highborn Elves of Ilanard’ doing in the sci-fi section? Ugh…” I took the ornate book off the shelf and slid ‘Synthetic love’ into its place. There was an odd clicking sound as I did so, as if it had locked into place.

“Back where you belong.” I nodded. “Now elves…elves…I spy ‘The Silmarillion’ so that’s got to be pointing me in the right direction.” I hunted for a place to squeeze the elegant copy of ‘The History of the Highborn Elves of Ilanard’ when I found another mis-shelving. “Running with Werewolves’?” I paused, an idea starting to form. “Wait…wait, wait, wait…” I said to no one in particular and knelt on the tiles, spreading the haikus out. “If ‘Forever I thirst’ is a vampiric haiku and I found ‘Synthetic Love’ in its place…then maybe ‘Made in man’s image’ haiku…” I laid that particular haiku in front of the sci-fi section then studied the rest in the context of the shelves dedicated to the fantasy of elves. “Not ‘Meridian moon’ or ‘Bejewelled tombs’ really fit…but ‘Without taint or flaw’…that could be elves.” I slid the haiku to line up with the shelves and looked at the newest book in my hands. “If I had to pick a haiku to match with you…Oh! I sing a song without words! Meridian moon! You’re howling to the queen of the night because you serve the full moon that brings about your transformation!” I leapt up and looked at the shelf dedicated to werewolves, trailing my fingers along the spines. “I reckon…yep!” I grasped the hefty volume and pulled it out, feeling the dust cover attempt to slip through my fingers. “‘The Omnibus of Dragons’! You’re in the wrong place!” I put ‘Running with Werewolves’ into the gap that had appeared and turned around on the spot, having only two places left to go. “And if I was a vampire book on a dragon shelf…I’d look like…you!” I grasped the copy of ‘The Bloody Tale of the Vampire Queen’, yanked it out and put the dragon omnibus where it was supposed to be. “Which means you,” I looked at the book, “I know exactly where you go. Back to the beginning…” I walked to the vampire shelves where there was still a gap from the first book I’d removed. I felt a strong degree of satisfaction as I pushed it into place. “There’s no place like home.”

I stepped into the middle of the Observatory floor and view my work, feeling a strong sense of pride that I had been able to work out Aunt Jo’s puzzle.

“I guess I’m not as far fallen as I thought.” I mused happily. Though I had found Aunt Jo’s medi database card, was house sitting her home and watering her plants, this was what I took the most joy in.

And then, just as suddenly as the jolt of energy and enthusiasm had come…it left. I was suddenly and hopelessly tired. I yawned so wide I thought I’d dislocate my jaw and felt the cold air seep in through the dressing gown.

It was time to go back to bed.

I collected all the little haikus and stuffed them in my pocket as I headed out the door I’d come in by, flicking the lights off as I went.

Suddenly there were a series of clicks, similar to the one I had heard before. I turned around and looked at the room, baffled as to where the noises were coming from.

“Is the wiring for the lights playing up?” I murmured, not convinced but desperate to explain it.

Despite standing as still as a statue, I could not hear anything else. I turned my back and went to leave again. And then…I heard the sound of a door opening.

My heart went into hiding and my spine crawled with horror as I turned to see a line of light dashing around the perimeter of the books in the werewolf section. The line ripped upwards, streaking around the outside of books to form a door shape in the bookshelves themselves. And then…the door that had been defined by the light opened, the bookshelves coming away from the wall as though they were a secret panel in a castle library…but the trouble was, there was nowhere beyond that it could have come from.

There certainly wasn’t anywhere that would generate the smell of meat, of candlelight and earth coming from a room that was dark and forbidding.

What was beyond was caught in the blink of an eye as a form filled the doorway, bristling and tall, bare chested and immediately filling the Observatory with his presence.

A yelp formed in my throat as he yawned and stretched.

“You took your time, Jo. I thought you’d never unlock the door.”

“I was also beginning to wonder…” Said a voice next to me. I spun and saw another tall figure but one that was much leaner who seemed to bring a sense of darkness with him.

I gulped and went to cry out when something or someone lunged at me, embracing me with the scent of water, sky and arms that were almost too tight for my ribcage.

“Jo! I’ve missed you Jo!”

“Eustace, back off. You’re going to crush her.” I felt the embracer pulled away from me with a whimper.

“Ah Faelan, I was starting to think your ears weren’t as sharp as what you purport them to be.”

“Never doubt the ears of an elf. We have the points to prove it.” This came from another voice and with it was the sound of wings fluttering together, the stretch of a bow string and the smell of a meadow of daisies in full bloom with a warm wind. “Where is Rob?”

“I am here.” The doorway I had been backing up to, ready to make a run for it, was suddenly filled from behind but a solid body. I gasped and pulled back. “Please, calm yourself.”

“Aren’t you happy to see us? It’s been ages!”

“Longer for us than for her perhaps.”

“Wait a minute…” A hand grasped my chin, cold and pinching as he drew my face towards him, eyes of ice blue with sharp brows that looked like they might run me through. His jaw tightened and I suddenly smelt a whiff of blood, as if he’d just bitten the inside his mouth. “Who the hell are you?”