"I still think you're acting strange," Lysandra said, watching Ethan—or rather, watching who she thought was Gilbert—pace around the curator's desk. "But I have to admit, you might be onto something with those energy patterns."

Three hours had passed since they'd first arrived at the crime scene. The Head Curator had been temporarily appeased with promises of swift investigation, and the initial evidence had been documented with floating orbs that captured magical impressions. Now it was just the two of them, surrounded by the soft hum of active wards and the scattered blue sparks that nobody else seemed to fully understand.

Ethan stopped pacing. He'd pulled enough all-nighters in the computer lab to recognize the signs of electronics at work. But how could he explain that without revealing he wasn’t really Gilbert?

Maybe he should tell them. Hey sorry, not your guy, haha. Mind if I just… go home?

Is waking up in a different body normal in this world? Does it happen a lot? Or is it entirely unheard of, and all the local mages will try to experiment on him to find out how it happened?

He grimaced. He’ll figure it out - but he’s going to have to be smart about it.

“The book that was stolen,” he turned towards Lysandra. “What do we know about it?”

“I see you were not paying attention to the exhibit when you visited last time,” smirked Lysandra. “But very well, I know it quite well. Codex Impossibilis was written by the necromancer Sepulchre about two thousand years ago. There are five hundred pages of the book, each one written with the blood of a single victim; each one’s soul is bound to their corresponding page. Many researchers have tried to release the souls to allow them rest, but to no avail; they say that someone skilled enough can communicate with the spirits bound within, and many people who have been bound within that book are… equally as dreadful and evil as the book’s author, and grow more and more corrupted by the power of the book.”

“So a person who took the book could use it to do… what, exactly?”

“In theory, the knowledge of any of the 500 people bound inside is within grasp of anyone who holds it. So the holder of the book could find out knowledge of weaving the traditional elven fabric, lauimaa, from Xamenthou Hemliosi, victim bound to page 187; or how to unleash the great demon Vor’malghê, Continent Destroyer, from warlock Omianna Duskweaver, victim bound to page 412.”

Ethan swallowed hard. “So, 500 possible motives?”

Lysandra nodded.

“In practice, however,” continued Lysandra, “only the most skilled of necromancers could hope to make any headway with this book. And we all know about the legal stance on necromancers and how many are left.”

Ethan nodded, trying his best to feign competence.

This is so, absolutely above my paygrade, Ethan thought to himself. He wondered where did Gilbert store all his money and what the best vacation destination is in this realm. No, he scolded himself. This sucks, yeah, but it’s also a little… exciting.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

He focused his attention back to the patterns.

"Look at how the sparks cluster," he said. "They're not random. They're..." He searched his mind for appropriately magical-sounding terms. "They're following ley lines of some sort."

Lysandra waved her hand, creating a purple mist that made the magical energies in the room more visible. "Traditional ley lines run north to south in this part of the museum. These are running in parallel sequences."

“There’s a definite path here,” said Ethan. The sparks were roaming free, and slight enough they were difficult to see with a naked eye. There were no cables to be seen anywhere near, or anything of the sort - he was beginning to wonder if electricity in this world followed the same rules as it did back home. “A predetermined path. Someone put a lot of thought and energy into doing this. The prep itself must have taken weeks, at least.”

“Someone who can come and go as they please and has access to this area,” mused Lysandra. “I’ll ask the Sergeant to give us some names. I wouldn’t mind doing some interrogations. And I know it’s your favorite part.”

Just what the fuck does that mean, thought Ethan.

“It might help me get back into my element,” he said out loud, trying to sound convincing.

“So when did you end up learning so much about electricity?”, asked Lysandra. “Last time that junior artificer brought a lightbulb within 20 feet of you, I thought you’d turn her into a sheep.”

The ring on Ethan's finger grew warm again, and he felt a sudden surge of inspiration. "People can change their minds, can't they? Maybe I've been... expanding my horizons."

"Uh-huh." Lysandra crossed her arms. "And does this sudden interest in electricity and energy patterns have anything to do with your strange aura this morning?"

Instead of answering, Ethan knelt to examine the underside of the curator's desk. There—almost invisible unless you knew what to look for—was a tiny black device stuck to the wood. In his old life, he would have recognized it as a modified wireless signal booster. Here, surrounded by magic, it looked distinctly out of place.

"Lysandra," he said carefully, "what happens to electrical devices in magically sealed rooms?"

She joined him, squinting at the device. "They stop working, obviously. The magical barriers interfere with their..." She frowned. "What did that engineering student call it last year? Electro-something fields?"

"Electromagnetic fields," Ethan said automatically, then winced.

"Yes, that's it."

Ethan stood, mind racing. The pieces were starting to come together, but he needed to be careful about how he presented his theory. "What if," he said slowly, "someone found a way to shield electronic devices from magical interference? Or better yet, what if they found a way to use the magical energy itself to power them?"

Lysandra's eyes widened. "That's... that's impossible. Isn't it?"

“Nothing is ever truly impossible,” he shook his head. “The way the energy is used here, the magic and the electricity… this is delicate work.” He started pacing again, feeling like his brain might explode. It felt like getting a bug while coding: he couldn’t shake the feeling there was something he was missing here, and that it was an equivalent of forgetting a bracket somewhere.

He tried to focus, to force his vision to shift again like it did before. It did absolutely nothing except give him a headache, and he was sure his straining is making it look like he has to take a shit.

“Gilbert, are you okay? You look like you need… a quick break,” said Lysandra diplomatically.

“Yeah, I’m- ow! My elbow!” Ethan blinked. He was walking next to a wall, and he definitely felt a lot of pain just now. But there wasn’t anything there.

Lysandra cocked her eyebrow. “There isn’t anything there, Gil- wait.” She got up to her feet, and moved towards Ethan, her wand at the ready. With a quick incantation, the glamour dissipated, uncovering a very mundane looking control panel, left slightly open.

“Huh,” said Ethan.

“Hmm,” agreed Lysandra.

Ethan opened up the control panel all the way.

“Fascinating,” he said. “Look at all these cables and chips and-”

With a soft eep, the control panel exploded in his face.