I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why Kelia was helping us so much. The only thing she said on the matter was that I needed to learn magic from someone but I had bigger worries than trying to figure out her motivations. She had somehow calmed Hana, and with some of her positive attitude restored, I stood no chance. She essentially dragged me out of the house and down the dirt road, Kelia in tow.

My plans to go home were slowly falling to the wayside. Of course, I still wanted to. As much as this world apparently needed me to be a hero, I was definitely not one. Wrong man for the wrong job. Oops, meant to pluck the guy next door. Guess we’re stuck with him.

I bet people had noticed my disappearance by now. What pictures would they use for my missing persons poster? I hoped they didn’t use one of those shitty ones on my Facebook. I never posted my own photos. My mom used to always take the worst ones and tag me in them. I always complained I looked like I was in a single child family, like my siblings had died. Which he had but, holy fuck, was it so apparent in those pictures. I think it was her way of making up for the fact that she ignored me, that conversation with me was too uncomfortable because I reminded her of him.

We made it back into the city proper with no problem and Hana and I eventually found ourselves back at the library. I was more worried about the secret order finding out that we were visiting the library than Hana was, apparently, because she shrugged me off when I protested, saying that they probably looked through the records of copied material instead of having some watchdog tail her all day. I wasn’t sure that was the case but with Hana there was no arguing.

Kelia had gone off on her own. She had some errands to run, supposedly. So it was Hana and I, looking for who knows what. I was skeptical of the idea that we would just happen to stumble across something about this super secret group that the Arch-High Mage was a part of.

The city kept a log of all land and building acquisitions and made it public through the library. Hana was searching through it, trying to locate every purchase Zeckmas had made since his early twenties. I wished her luck and wandered through the humongous aisles, shelf after shelf that was brimming with books. Of course, I made sure to stay relatively close to Hana, just in case something did go wrong and we needed to scram.

I was surprised by how the library was organized. It was pretty similar to the way libraries on Earth organized their shelves. Books on history would go here, books on politics would go there, books on economics would be put in this aisle, books on historical figures over in that aisle.

We were on the second floor. The middle of the floor had been cut out, rails placed all around it so that you could see the first floor. I was near it, lingering around the magic section.

I wasn’t really looking for any book in particular but one on dark magic caught my eye. Didn’t Kelia say that Percy’s incantation circle was using some sort of dark magic? I pulled it out. It was certainly old and pretty hefty, an intricate design on the cover with a title that read “Dark Magics: An Investigation”. Simple but effective.

I flipped it open. The table of contents informed me that part of the book was a historical account of various uses of dark magic in literature and myth. The amount of actual recorded uses of it were small, taking up only three pages. I flipped over there.

The first legitimate record, one that historians have come to agree is likely true based on compiling and analyzing the various evidences, comes to us in an autobiography written almost one hundred years prior to this book’s publication. The figure in question, M.C. Cairns, was a relatively obscure but wealthy collector of rune artifacts. The accounts of his acquisitions he provides in autobiographical books do not include how he came across the magical item which interests us, namely, an occult embellished baby corpse. Embellished baby corpses have often been emblematic of dark magic rituals, particularly due to their rare but revolting nature.

M.C. Cairns had theorized that this one in particular was meant to be used to grant fertility to an infertile woman. It’s unclear if he attempted to experiment with it but a fragment of a letter was found in his office after his death that suggests he might have. In it, he writes that the result was so grotesque and horrifying that he killed it on sight.

I closed the book, largely creeped out. The information, though, was interesting. Perhaps this book held a clue to what Percival was doing? I decided I wanted to try checking it out. I sauntered over to the railing, looking down over the first floor. I scanned for the front desk and found it, a set of kindly looking librarians heading it, speaking with someone.

He had an air of familiarity, as if I’d seen him before and when he turned away from the librarian, I instantly knew it was Percival. Percival was here, in this very library. A stroke of terror made my knees tremble. What was he doing here? What was going on? I quickly moved backwards, hoping that he wouldn’t spot me on the second floor.

He was definitely making small talk with the librarian, all smiles. He had a book in his hand. It seemed they were wrapping up because he took one step away and said something else. The librarian waved goodbye and Percival started to make his way to the front doors.

Shit. I had to go tell Hana he was here. I was about to turn when I realized Percival was walking too fast. I wouldn’t be able to reach Hana in time and still follow him. Shitshitshitshit. I needed to make a decision. Was it worth it to tail him? This might be the only chance I got. The city was just too big for another random encounter.

Instinct took over and I dropped the book and raced to the stairs. He was already pushing through the large glass doors, stepping out into the sunshine by the time I reached the bottom.

My heart drummed in my chest as I ran. Thud-a-thud-a-thud-a. I moved past a few lingering bodies, running but doing my best to seem like I wasn’t. Don’t mind me, just a man in a hurry.

I reached the doors, pushed my way through and scanned for him. For a second, I thought I lost him but there he was, walking down the sidewalk to my left, a block away.

I flew down the granite steps like a reckless child racing down a hill, instinct pushing me forward.

The book meant he was researching something. More dark magic? What then was this plan of his? Maybe he was a sort of Zodiac killer, a man driven to murder inorder to achieve infamy and satiate his bloodlust. That would explain the Zeckmas murder, but it didn’t explain the murder of Tobflin. It was so dispassionate, so disconnected, like he was a fly on the wall to him. It also didn’t explain the murder of the elderly couple because he got Toblfin to do it for him. If he really was some kind of Zodiac killer, would he really have let someone else take the kill from him?

People bustled past me as I jumped and ducked through the crowds. I was drawing too much attention to myself but because we were in the central district of town, the amount of people here made it impossible to follow Percival unless I really booked it.

Sidewalk changed to street changed to sidewalk as we crossed block after block. I was breathing hard, blood pumping as we made turn after turn. I realized, somewhat belatedly, that we were moving towards the outskirts of the city, away from the enormous castle that sat like a jewel in the middle of the city.

Slowly but surely, the massive crowds started to thin until it reached the point where I began to worry that Percival would look back and be able to spot me right away.

But he didn’t. Instead, on one particularly barren block, he walked up brick steps to one of the many identical houses. It was a two-story building, one that looked too tightly squeezed together to really fit people. He slipped a key into the keyhole, stepped inside and closed the heavy wooden door at the front. With that, he was gone. I continued walking down the street, still a block away.

I debated turning around. Would it look too suspicious? He was inside, probably not peering out the window. It seemed like he hadn’t noticed me anyway. I decided to push forward and just walk past it to see if I couldn’t get a glance inside, instinct once again pushing me to do something I would have never done on my own.

As I neared it, I realized all the curtains were drawn. They were oddly elegant ones, as if Percival had put thought into the type of fabric that would best suit his little house. For some reason, it made things seem creepier so I sped up as I passed by, suddenly very conscious of the fact that I was the only one in the street.

That’s when Percival opened the door. He stood in the frame of the door, shadows outlining his figure. I instantly froze, feet unable to move as we locked eyes. His brow was furrowed, scanning me intensely in a way that left me feeling naked under his burning gaze.

“Nice weather today, ain’t it?” He said, casually, leaning against the door.

I nodded dumbly, unsure if he was preparing to kill me right out in the middle of the street. Was running viable? If he had a gun, probably not. The street was just too wide, not enough cover.

“Feeling like a chat?” He asked and motioned inside. His smile was warm, congenial. My feet moved of their own accord, stiffly making their way up the roughly hewn steps like I was just a detached observer.

Walking into the lair of a killer. What a genius move, Griffin. Pure genius.