"T-there's a monster under my bed, Dad!"

"Monsters aren't real, sweetie."

"How do you know?"

"Because I am here and so long as I am, they will never touch you."

"Mars! Mars!"

I yelped as my cheek rose from our cold school library table. My misty eyes popped open and saw no-one besides Isa sitting near me. This vast, desolate library was defined by Greek, Gothic, and Victorian designs popular in the early 19th century and hopefully only stored mundane knowledge. It wasn't even the silence that crept me out. The silence felt calming, bedroom-like almost. Don't think of such metaphors, Marissa. If you fell asleep here, those creepy crumbling books will fuel your nightmares.

Isa handed me a muffin. "As I said, you need more sugar!"

Isa wore a black (what else?) shirt with "No Pain, No Gain" written on it and wore her hair down for a change, though it wasn't a sign of her being relaxed. Quite the opposite. Her green eyes pierced me with judgment.

"Seriously, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Extracurricular activities."

"Like, what? Anything to do with Simon's sister?"

"Is this a problem?"

"Nah." She folded her arms. "I just feel out of the loop, y'know. Especially since you these days also spend so much time with Simon. Just you and him, alone. Doing stuff I'm not supposed to know about."

"I-it's not what you think it is," I said. "And now I'm spending time with you. Isn't this what matters?"

"You never answer my messages! Anything to do with your nightmares?"

"My-"

Isa yelped like I did when I woke up before. "You do this all the time."

To be honest, even I wasn't sure what caused my nightmares. "I think I'm worried. Lots of bad things happen in this town. You texted me about the death of Devons yourself."

"Yeah."

"Some people say the town is cursed."

"It's definitely cursed." Isa smiled. "But the Night Witch knows counter-courses!"

"How do you know?"

"Dunno. A gut feeling that cheers me up. I get why you're burned out, but if something's eating you, you need to talk. Maybe not with me, but have you tried the school counselor? Or, if your Dad is okay-"

I frowned.

"Oh, well, guess I shouldn't have said this," Isa said.

"It's not your fault," I said and switched the topic. "Have you found out anything about this Klaus Kringle? A few weeks ago, I asked you to-"

As if she had been waiting for this topic the whole time, Isa stood up with no questions asked. From the shelf, she picked up a compilation of old yearbooks from the years 1950-1959. Normally, yearbooks contained details on special events or staff activities, but this compilation was more distilled. It contained pictures and names of every student that graduated that year along with brief notes on newsworthy events.

The graduates for 1958 contained a variety of names. I noted Lukas Weber - because he was my World Issues teachers' granduncle - and Claudia Nutter - the last name sounded funny - but Isa pointed her finger at a man named Peter Tredwell. "He was one of Klaus Kringle's first victims."

"How do you know?"

"Mandy is his great-granddaughter. Yes, I know, she's annoying and she hangs out with Lucy, but she was willing to talk. The rumor goes that her great gramps wanted a date for his prom. So, he went back to the basement and met Klaus Kringle there. He granted his wish for true love and he found the love of his life. The two became a pair, married, and got children, but their love was premature. They weren't meant for each other, but, due to Klaus Kringle's curse, they couldn't move apart. So, they kept fighting and were doomed to unhappy adulthood of alcoholism and violence."

Ouch. "You said he's in the basement?" I asked.

"Yeah, in a broken mirror in the boiler room. You go there, say 'Klaus Kringle' three times, he shows up and he shows you the way to his secret library."

I remembered the broken mirror I saw in the boiler room when fighting the two demons. "Just so that I'm sure, you didn't try to go there to find out did you?" I asked.

Isa grinned.

"Isa!"

"Okay, okay, I went there. But he didn't show up! You can only call him on days when he wants to. Halloween. Christmas. Homecoming. Prom. He'll show up, fulfill your wish, and make you regret it."

So, he was that kind of spirit. Saying an entity's name three times to summon it was technically a form of sympathetic magic, but it was also a common divination trick. Divination depended on soul-bonding to ask the spirit one bonded to for information and this was one way of doing it. However, some spirits were resistant or just too strong to bond with. So, one had to perform complicated rituals to please them – which often included calling them on days they wanted to be called.

"And, just so that I'm sure about this," I said, "you don't plan to go there and call him on homecoming either, do you?"

Isa grinned even harder than before. "Why should I? I'm gonna rock the dance. Are you planning to go there, Mars?"

"In the basement?"

Isa groaned. "To the dance, you dunce!"

I flushed. Where did that suddenly come from?

"Hey, what's wrong?" Isa asked. "Are you allergic to dances?"

"No, it's just-"

"I know you're nervous, but homecoming is like strawberries. If you are out there in a field, they can be easy to overlook because they're so small. But when you find their heart-shaped fruits and put them in chocolate or in a milkshake or eat them with ice cream, then, trust me, you understand what true love feels like."

Her mouth practically watered during these bizarrely lurid elaborations.

"So, you're saying I should just try going to the dance?" I asked.

"You only go to high school once. And besides, you don't have to dance or bring the hottest date or even talk to anyone. Just be there, okay? It'll help you throw off your shell. Will you go there? Will you go there?"

"I will, just-"

"Cool. You know, I normally don't read a lot, but I heard this library's got a copy of The Witch-Cult in Western Europe, and if we find it-"

Isa stopped when she noticed Mrs. Fowler. You know, I admire those librarians for how they soundlessly pop out of nowhere to shush you at the slightest noise. Mrs. Fowler's black hair was tied into a professional bob while her outstretched arm pointing at the door made any words unnecessary.

"M-Mrs. Fowler," Isa said.

"We were just working on a research project!" I said.

Which was true. A spooky research project.

Mrs. Fowler didn't answer. Her dark brown eyes weren't focused on us. They weren't focused anywhere at all. Contrary to what I thought, her outstretched arm wasn't her way of saying "Get out!".

No, she used her arm to support herself against a bookshelf before she collapsed onto the floor.

"Mrs. Fowler, are you alright?" Isa asked, frozen in her seat.

Mrs. Fowler only snored.

Through the window, a tiny monster glared at us with bulging eyes. I shrieked. This goblin-like thingie that watched me during Mr. Weber's lessons wasn't a hallucination. The Hunters warded my school, but wards needed maintenance – like everything else - and you can't monster-proof the entire world. Everyone here was in grave danger. Those few weeks of bliss my school enjoyed were over.

"What's wrong?" Isa asked.

I looked at the window again and it was gone. Isa couldn't see those things.

"A lot is wrong," I answered. "Thanks for telling me about Klaus Kringle, but I have another suspect to look at."