“We could still get lobotomized.” Julia doesn't even bother sugar-coating her words to Drenar.

“A distinct possibility. But according to Evan, once people start generating mana, that's literally impossible. We already have protection from mind-screwy things.” She hates how he has that disarming charm that even affects her on occasion--why is it so difficult to stay mad at him? She puts the thought on hold, and has another idea.

“What is mana, exactly? Amaranth's book doesn't go into much detail, other than some critters have crystals of it integrated into their body. Like some weird symbiotic thing." She still has trouble grasping that concept--actual crystals embedded in the flesh or as part of an exterior carapace or armor scaling.

“His words? Magical energy. It's funky to the max. Now, why did you spill the beans to James and Angela?” Drenar asks. She throws her hands up in frustration.

“Why'd your sorry ass pass out in a bathroom right in front of James?” she retorts. It's a bit mean, but this day is not going her way on a variety of fronts. The Talons are getting bolder, and she could tell by a few reactions of people throughout the day that some people were scared. Terrified, even. Which is why she's not keen on wasting any more time this afternoon than necessary at one of the local libraries--the odd one that some rich dude transplanted in town from thousands of miles away.

Kelly had been among them, and she wanted to tell her everything going on, but not in school. That would have to wait until later. Drenar in the meantime is running his fingers through his tostled hair, as if he could ever fix that bird's nest on top of his neck. Get a comb kid, seriously, I don't know what's so alluring about it!

“It was intense, and I tried to not pass out, but my body was like, ‘No, you're taking a nap.’ Luckily, visibility issues have gone away. For now,” he says as he rolls back his sleeve to show human skin. He looks a degree more confident. “So, they both know now. What'd you tell Angie?”

“That we could end up dead or lobotomized if we’re not careful,” she says while leaning on Drenar's car door, just outside the Sherman Zylandra Memorial Library later in the afternoon. “We're meeting on Thursday. We have the holiday on Friday, so whatever we're gonna do, we need a plan. So, the big question is, do we trust Nick?” Drenar bites his lip, as if he's unsure he's to answer.

“Let's say the jury is out on that one. All I do know is that he's investigating the Talons, and I'm sure that being a high school student is only his day job. Our only lead," he adds for emphasis while he held up the bestiary of magical monsters, "Is this. There was one hit on Hanna Celestine. Theoretically, she’s supposed to have been dead for over five hundred years. And yet, one hit came up. Supposedly, she was a chemist who made a couple of discoveries about distillation processes."

"Who is she?" Julia asks. He might have mentioned it once before, it is a rather pretty name.

"I dunno. Alex mentioned her. And her husband, Gerard. And a few other names.”

“Again, why are people you’ve never known floating around in your head?” she demands before pointing at the building while jabbing her finger as she spoke.

“Okay, call me crazy–” Drenar tries to say, but she cuts him off.

“We’re there, thanks." Drenar bites his lip.

“Okay, hear me out. Maybe what I’ve been seeing is real. Somewhere. Maybe Alex is a person from another plane, and our dreamscape just touches on it, barely.” This is not part of dragon science or any science, and he's wrong!

“No, that’s not how dreams work! It’s just the brain randomly firing off an electrochemical jumble, guided by subconscious desires and neuroses!” Julia taps her foot, gazing up at the imposing building. It's rough-hewn grey stone, with raw timber girding on the interior, along with modern touches and updates. It's not bad looking, it just feels out of place in this town.

“Or, maybe the dragons got obliterated so badly that only their souls remained, and occasionally they find their way back. We know dragons are highly magical creatures. And intelligent. Alex could be literally a lost soul. With Rick being utterly useless, we have to find answers on our own for now.”

“You think we’re going to find the answer here?” He nods quietly. “Alright, it’s your play. So what's our game plan?"

"Find anything related. I found a date on one of the illustrations, sometime in mid-1974. There may be microfilms that can help us--if this is a low distribution book, maybe the author is local, and older periodicals may have done some review or an interview with the author. The library itself is kinda suspect, like mages decided it would be fun to relocate an entire building from Wales over to the US. For some super eccentric reason." He took a moment to push the double doors open. “Worst case, we approach Nick. I find it incredible he knows Amaranth."

“It's a super freaky coincidence. Any idea who that Levine guy is?” Julia has been taking notes on everyone in the know about magic, and it's a growing list. Knowing who knows what could be helpful later, if they have to take a risk on who to trust.

“Investigator. Maybe SAF. Same as Nick. That doesn't automatically make them the good guys yet,” Drenar cautions. “Well, shall we?” He says with a brighter expression.

"You are nothing, if not persistent to a fault Drenar," she replies as she gives him a warm smile. "Alright. Let's get some answers." They approached a secretary desk, a relic of proper woodworking days carved out of rich maple and adorned with decorative legs, butter-smooth texture, and a simple desktop PC on the top. A young woman with oversized glasses types something at a rapid pace. Her eyes are transfixed on the display in front of her. Cold pale light emanates from the screen, reflecting off her glasses. the building is all warm colors, with occasional stone wall accents. This place must have cost a lot of money for a town as small as theirs. Too much money, in retrospect. Dragons and wizards are hiding something here, she can feel it.

"Uh, excuse me miss," she calls out to the woman. She made no motion to acknowledge Julia, and is focused on typing.

Clack-clack-clack.

"Uh, miss?" Julia asks again before waving her hand casually. The woman makes a startled noise, and pulls out a set of earbuds.

"Oh, sorry about that! I was so focused on this report for my grad class!" She brushes a strand of curly brown hair out of her face and extends a hand. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm trying to find an author, Amaranth Vertimer. I can't find anything about this guy, and I absolutely love this book--for uh, my tabletop gaming sessions," Julia adds hastily after showing her the book. “Also, someone called…Hanna Celestine?”

"You could try the card catalog," she suggests. “There's also the archives room where we store some books, but I don't think I can just let anyone in there."

"Uh, why exactly?" Julia asks innocently. "It's really important, he loves this book! We're part of the literature club in school, and we've been looking for obscure books from local authors, to highlight our town's contributions to writing and the liberal arts."

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"Uh...you got any credentials?" The woman asks casually while raising an eyebrow.

"Mister Mortimer, the town historian?" Julia is extremely quick to come up with a plausible answer. "He suggested we should come here.”

“Well, I do know Mister Mortimer, he drops by here on occasion--always telling kids to stop walking around with their cell phones glued to their faces.” She squints at them and adjusts her glasses for the third time. “I have to admit, I don’t think I’ve had *anyone* ask me about obscure books before.”

“Can you help us?” Julia sees the opening and goes for it.

"I...oh why not. It's not like we're the Louvre," she doesn’t hesitate before pulling out a key ring and thumbing through it before handing Julia one. "Please return the key when you check out, okay?"

"Thanks! We appreciate this!" Julia beams, and the librarian smiles faintly.

"Anytime. Just a word of caution, I think it’s a little musty in there," she instructed before putting her earbuds back in. She could distinctly hear the sound of Metallica. Julia led the way to the archives room and unlocked it, beckoning him in.

"Smooth play, Julia," he said casually to her.

"And this is why it pays to have me along," she replies enthusiastically and proceeds to look through the bookshelves. "I'll check in these rows, you take the other side?"

"With pleasure." With both of them free to roam the large room, they set to work searching the shelves.

The search goes about as well as Julia suspected it would. Oh, this is so slow, this crap isn’t indexed, it smells like a mildew factory in here, and Drenar is still humming Metallica! She thinks angrily. “This place needs to be purged. With sunlight. And mildew killer,” she growls.

“So that means you’ve got nada over there? Yeah, me too,” Drenar says from the other side of the room. “Well, minus this address ledger from the early 1900’s. Hardly useful. I didn’t realize this town was that old."

“Check for Vertimer. Maybe they had family out here,” Julia suggests. He flips through while she’s browsing through useless news articles of the most vanilla fare ever.

“Hey Julia, you know how I know you’re my lucky girl?”

“Because I was born a day ahead of you, and I inherited all the good luck?” she teases.

“Are you ever going to stop holding that ‘one day older than me’ thing over my head like it automatically gives you seniority?” he groans before looking her way. She responds by grinning wildly, and resting her chin on her hands while leaning on the bookshelf.

“Nope! Now remind me, why am I your lucky girl today?” It’s an absolute treat to get a reaction out of Drenar. Sometimes, he makes it easy–but maybe, only just for her.

“There was a Vertimer family here in the 1920’s. Malena Vertimer? This is on Elk Street, it's about a half mile from your house," he said with emphasis. "Talk about close to home." Julia is immensely surprised at the coincidence, and she snaps her fingers.

"Yeah, I know the house! Some lady lives there, she lives alone, but my mom drops by on occasion. I don't remember her name. I think she runs the bakery in town," Julia glanced at him curiously. "Think we should stick around? I think this is the best lead we're gonna get today."

“That’s a hundred-year gap, Julia. Anyone who knew where they went is probably dead and buried, and so are they,” Drenar reasons. “Wait. Hang on. Maybe not. How long do dragons live again?”

“A few thousand years. I read it real quick. Man, when I think about it, that’s one real slow-burning candle. They could marry a human, be happy for sixty years, and poof, they’re dust and bones while the dragon is still in their prime. That would kinda suck.” She makes an exaggerated expression. “Hey Drenar, odds are good that our life expectancy went way up. Got any thousand-year plans?”

“Julia, not for nothing, but this existential crisis is likely just getting started. Real magical creatures, body transformation, and an ancient dragon civilization have maxed out my crazy meter,” he grumbles from down below. He blows the dust off of a leather-backed book and coughs on the resulting dust cloud. "Gah. So much dust," he manages to cough out. He put the book back and waited for the dust to no longer be an irritant. She laughs, and then she loses her balance for a split second, and nearly falls over the shelf. A few books hit the ground with a muted thud.

"Oh uh...oops?" she offers an apology. That was so not in line with my pitch-perfect balance.

“Graceful, Tsundere. Let’s try to leave this place intact.”

“Hey, don’t pick those up! The law of luck states that if I pick them up, they may lead somewhere promising!” she states and hops down, but he snags them anyway and puts them on the table.

“Nah, I need some of that luck right now. Because I might die of spore inhalation if we take too much longer here.” He coughs again for emphasis--why are dragons affected by allergies?! That does not seem fair.

“Well, when you put it like that…yeah, this place is…moldering.” He raises an eyebrow at that statement. “It’s a real word!” He sighs and shakes his head, then goes back to the books. His eyes brighten.

“Oh hey, Julia, you’re still my lucky girl. On a profound level."

“Aw, are you flirting with me? You know, a library is a good place for–” he peers at her, looking mortified at her suggestion, and puts a hand up to interrupt.

“Oh my fates, you keep teasing like that, one of these days I’m going to call your bluff, Julia," he replies with a flustered expression. She leans in with a grin.

“Would you?” She does wonder if he would even try it. He might have the courage to follow through, but then that could be a little awkward for Angela.

“Let’s just say that I’m a one lady at a time kind of guy. There’s a universe out there that has a version of me calling your bluff and is free and clear of commits. And you’re thinking of it right now,” he says with a sly grin.

Oh, when did you get so bold? This time last year when I sent you a selfie you almost had an anxiety attack. Hmm…do I go for it? Eh, maybe not in this mold-infested room. Also not while he’s dating Angela. Gotta keep some rules for myself, and I’m certain he won’t break his ‘one lady at a time’ rule either. “Are we in that universe?”

“Nah." She pouts her lip in response. "But, take a look at this in the meantime!” Her mood instantly brightens when he reads the title of the leather-bound book. “For your viewing pleasure, ‘Volume one of the Draconomicon, a history of Dragonkind, by Garrick Ergath'.” He’s practically beaming when he shows her the leather-bound book.

“Oh give it here, let’s read it!” she said excitedly, with both of them sitting down side by side at a reading table. It sort of reminds her of the times when they’d listen to music on quiet days, each of them sharing a single earbud on an ancient MP3 player. The leather binding creaks ever so slightly as they open it, with Julia flipping through pages faster than he can read.

"Hey slow down! I can read fast, but not that fast!" he protests.

"I'm looking for something. This book has an index--ah, there we go.” She runs her finger down the page. "The Ascension Event. This is what I want to know about," she breathes before flipping through the pages. The paper rustles ever so slightly, dry with age but still perfectly intact. "Here it is." The crisp type print is readily legible.

The problem is, the further Julia reads, the more she looks over at Drenar, and the more she realizes how completely out of their depths they are. And the more he reads through it, the more she sees that utter sense of awe, even in the face of life-altering revelations.

“Hey Drenar? We aren’t crawling back up this rabbit burrow. We’re stuck in Wonderland. Forever.”