“Well, I’m not hiding either,” he said.
The way he lowered his voice and hunkered down further into the couch said otherwise. I went back to sorting the books, content to ignore him. This was more pressing. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end from the heat of him observing me as I put all the books back onto the shelves, grabbing a new set of five. Still no directory.
I didn’t realize Waylon had moved until he was standing directly in front of me. Yelping, I scrambled back to press myself against the shelving with my heart racing. He took a step back, but not a big one. I still had to pinch my leg to bring myself back to the present. “What are you searching for?” he asked.
“A directory book.”
He snorted. “What are you going to do with a directory?”
“I need to know which spell a number leads to.”
“Is this for one of Felix’s little tricks?”
I rewound through the day, trying to remember what I’d said about Uncle Felix. I’d mentioned him giving me the task of getting myself out of the house, though I’d played it as something he’d told me about before I’d been trapped here. As if I would have stepped foot anywhere near this property if I’d known. But the men didn’t know me well enough to realize I was lying through my teeth.
Why I’d felt the need to lie my way through a hallucination, I didn’t know.
“Yes. The clue is a directory number.”
“Are you sure it’s a directory number?”
“Yes?”
Was I sure? The dashes had been in the right places, and the length was right. Having it be an MSBO # would have made sense too, but the number was one digit too long.
“You don’t sound certain. Felix loves a good red herring. And a good trick — making something look like something else. Keep the possibilities in mind while you’re searching. We might have a directory book in here somewhere, but I have a feeling the number will be irrelevant.”
Waylon was the most serious I’d seen him, a tiny smirk gracing his lips but no sarcasm in his tone. The suggestion felt forced. Was my subconscious playing with me right now, or was this whole situation a trick from Felix to convince me to focus in the wrong place?
“Did you get tricked by Felix a lot?” I asked.
“He’s way too good at poker and kicked all our asses at strategy games.”
Fitting, considering he’d shoved me into the middle of his own self-made strategy game. “Did he use that strategic skill to lock you all up here?”
Wariness flashed through his expression, muscles tensing. With how short he was, having him standing while I sat didn’t make him intimidating. Though, the sharp fangs and nails capable of piercing flesh worried me if I pissed him off. His tail could probably strangle me. This topic didn’t seem especially comfortable for him. “Felix had nothing to do with that. We’re… dangerous. To society. We acknowledge that about ourselves, even though we don’t like being locked up here,” he said firmly.
It explained why none of them were itching to escape. I didn’t quite believe they were dangerous simply by existing, though. Abraxas was the least deadly basilisk in the world. Kirin wasn’t much bigger than a regular orc, and had nothing else abnormal about him. Waylon was sly and snarky, but no less likable than a normal pixie or demon would be. Bennett may be dangerous, but I knew little about wolfmen, and I couldn’t imagine him out of control. He thrived on control. Even Zan, who I should want to stay locked up. He was no more dangerous than a normal ghost, and those were allowed to roam freely until they found their purpose and could move on.
I wanted to ask why they were dangerous, but determined this was one of those situations where I didn’t want to know. Besides, why would I believe anything a hallucination told me? I’d be making up the reason myself and forcing it out of ‘false reality Waylon’s’ mouth, and my brain loved worst case scenarios. At the moment, I was calming down around them. No fight-or-flight response, except with Zan. If I asked and Waylon told me they’d massacred an entire town of people, I would go into a full, debilitating panic attack.
“Can you help me find a directory in this mess?” I asked, gesturing to the opposite shelving. “Since you’re here, and everything.”
“I’m telling you, it’s probably not a directory number.”
He sat down despite his warning, pulling out books and skimming the titles before shoving them back on the shelves. His process was even faster than mine, splitting the time we would need to get through the shelves by more than half.
Directory number or not, I wanted all the facts and to check every viable avenue.
Fifteen minutes passed in silence, pulling book after book from the wood shelves. Waylon’s company was comforting and reminded me of the constant presence of people in the Grand Library of Enchantments. I’d never been alone. In fact, I hated being alone. It brought out the panic.
“Found one.”
Waylon passed me a book bound to look like a normal hardcover, not in the typical colours of brown and purple. Good thing I’d checked all of them. I found the number mentioned, discovering the 01 portion was referencing a section on water spells. Unlikely to help when we were inland and far from lakes, unless you counted the temporary one in the driveway.
The specific number brought me to a spell to attract fish for easier capture.
“Red herring?” Waylon asked cockily, watching my expression fall.
