She'd been at it since eight in the morning, her movements precise and economical as she photographed documents, cross-referenced dates, and filled page after page of a leather-bound notebook with observations written in a script so small and neat it looked like machine printing. Leo had positioned himself at a reading table with clear sightlines to both her workspace and the archive's single entrance, his lion's paranoia demanding strategic positioning even in what should have been a secure environment.
"Finding anything interesting?" he asked, more to break the oppressive silence than from genuine curiosity about her research.
"Several things, actually." Aerin didn't look up from the 1847 town charter she was examining, her pale eyes moving across the faded text with laser focus. "Your town records are remarkably complete for a frontier settlement. Most municipalities from this period have significant gaps in documentation, but Mistwhisper Falls has continuous records from the day of incorporation."
"Bureaucratic thoroughness is a point of pride around here," Leo said dryly, though he was surprised by the observation. He'd never thought much about the archives' completeness, accepting it as just another quirk of small-town administration.
"It's more than thoroughness. It's systematic preservation with an almost obsessive attention to detail." Aerin held up a property deed that looked like it had been written yesterday despite its 1849 date. "These documents have been magically preserved. Someone cast spells to prevent aging, water damage, and deterioration. That level of care suggests the records contain information worth protecting."
Leo moved closer, his curiosity overriding his professional wariness. The deed in Aerin's hands did look suspiciously pristine for something over a century old, and now that she'd mentioned it, all the documents in the archives shared that same unnaturally perfect preservation.
"Magical preservation is expensive and time-consuming," Aerin continued, making notes about the deed's ownership transfer details. "It requires renewal spells every few decades and considerable magical energy. Most communities wouldn't invest that kind of resources in municipal paperwork unless they had very good reasons."
"What kind of reasons?"
"The kind that involve hiding important information in plain sight." Aerin set the deed aside and reached for a leather-bound ledger that looked older than the town itself. "Bureaucraticrecords are perfect camouflage for sensitive information. Who would think to look for magical secrets in property transfers and tax assessments?"
Leo settled into a chair across from her, his lion intrigued despite his suspicions. "You think our founders hid information about their magic in the town records?"
"I think your founders were much more paranoid than the standard historical narrative suggests." Aerin opened the ledger to reveal pages of meticulous handwriting in multiple languages. "This is supposedly a merchant's accounting book from the original settlement, but look at these entries."
She pointed to a series of notations that looked like inventory lists at first glance, but contained words that made Leo's lion stir uneasily. References to "binding materials" and "containment supplies" were scattered throughout what should have been records of flour and lumber purchases.
"Binding materials could mean rope or chains," Leo pointed out, though he was beginning to see Aerin's point.
"Could be. But rope doesn't typically require silver inlay or moon-blessed components." Aerin traced a finger along a particularly detailed entry. "This reads like a shopping list for a major magical working disguised as mundane supply orders."
Leo studied the careful script, noting details that suggested whoever had written these entries possessed both magical knowledge and a healthy paranoia about keeping records secret. "You think they were planning the seal from the beginning?"
"I think they came here specifically to create the seal and spent months preparing for a magical working of unprecedented complexity." Aerin flipped through more pages, revealing similar disguised entries. "The question is why they felt the need to hide their preparations so thoroughly."
"Maybe because they were binding something that other people wanted to stay free?"
"Or because they weren't all in agreement about what they were doing." Aerin's voice carried a note of tension that made Leo look at her more closely. "Captain Maddox, how much do you know about the original three founders?"
"Basic local history. Witch, wolf shifter, and fae working together to establish a supernatural-friendly community. Standard founding myth with a paranormal twist."
"Standard founding myth that doesn't match the documentary evidence." Aerin pulled out several documents and spread them across the table in chronological order. "Look at these property records. The original settlement was purchased by four people, not three."
Leo leaned forward, examining the faded signatures on the land patents. Three of the names were familiar from local history—Helena Whitaker, Garrett Halloway, and Silvane Beaumont. But there was a fourth signature, written in script so elaborate it was almost impossible to read.
"Mordaine Ashglen," Aerin read, pointing to the ornate signature. "The records show she contributed equally to the land purchase and was listed as a founding member of the town council. But by 1850, her name disappears from all official documents."
"Maybe she died or moved away?"
"Maybe. Or maybe she was deliberately erased from the historical record." Aerin pulled out more documents, each one showing the same pattern. "Look at this town charter amendment from 1849. Someone physically removed Mordaine's name from the document and wrote over it. And here, in the minutes from an 1850 council meeting, there's a reference to 'the betrayal' and 'necessary measures to ensure the binding's integrity.'"
Leo felt his lion's unease growing as the meaning of her statement became clear. "You're suggesting there was a fourth founder who betrayed the others?"
"I'm suggesting there was a fourth founder who disagreed with the others about something important enough to be written out of history." Aerin's pale eyes met his across the scattered documents. "And I'm suggesting that whatever she disagreed about might be the key to understanding why the founder network is failing now."
The archives fell silent except for the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sounds of traffic from the street above. Leo found himself studying Aerin's face as she worked, noting details he'd been too wary to observe before. The elegant bone structure that marked her as fae nobility. The way her fingers moved across ancient documents with reverent care. The intensity of focus that suggested genuine scholarly passion rather than calculated deception.
"You really believe this matters," he said quietly. "This isn't just academic research for you."
"It's the only lead I have on preventing a supernatural catastrophe that could kill thousands of people," Aerin replied without looking up from her notes. "So yes, I believe it matters."
"Why do you care so much? You're fae nobility from the Northern Courts. This isn't your community or your responsibility."
