The teens looked alarmed at this.
‘Not the spray bottle!’ exclaimed Tessa in faux alarm. ‘Won’t someone think of the children?’
Effie shook her head and left Tessa to her crafting session. Tessa was a natural. From the murmuring and giggles that emanated from the room, the session was proving a hit. Alana looked surprisingly engaged, and even Theo was happily crafting away, Effie noticed, as she stood on her tiptoes to see over the Fantasy book display that took up most of the window space. Not that she particularly cared whether Theo was having a good time, unless it was reflected in any future reviews he might leave Tessa or the library. Theo seemed like a reviewing type, and you never knew what kind of rating system he might employ.
All right, Effie. Less hypothesizing, more shelving.
She pushed the books cart along the plush carpets, glancing about as she surreptitiously used her magic to scoot books back into place or return them to the top shelves. Yes, the library had ladders, and Effie had made good use of them early on in her career, but a quick flick of magic moved things along faster than her arms and legs could. Just so long as she stuck to her base rules: only use magic on non-human things, and even then, only use it when no one was around. Things got weird and complicated otherwise. Spells on people tended to backfire, as there were so many factors to consider. The ripple effect of shifting someone’s behaviour could never be properly predicted, and even worse than that was the risk of becoming known as the person who could cast spells.
No, much better to simply use magic to clean up litter by the side of the road, or reach something on the top shelf.
Effie rolled the cart around, diligently returning books and gathering up the occasional baby sock or stuffed animal that a parent would no doubt shortly call about. Every book sheput back, she gave a quick once-over, running her thumb over the jacket and scanning the back cover copy. She was always intrigued by the books that people picked out. Just what inspired an obsessive foray into the fauna of Papua New Guinea? How many tomes about artisanal cheesemaking could one possibly flip through? Why were there so many folded pages in the ogre erotica? She suspected she knew the answer to this one, but didn’t want to think too deeply about it.
She was returning the cart to the circulation desk when she happened across two of the library’s most avid graphic novel readers browsing the crystal display she’d put together after her visit to Behind the Curtain the other evening.
‘Wow, it’s so shiny,’ said one of the girls, who was studying for an audio engineering certificate and could often be found, headphones on, fiddling around on Pro Tools in the reading room. Amy something. ‘And the descriptions. Can you seriously just find this stuff out on the trails? I don’t know, I thought that you had to mine it or something.’
‘From the moon,’ agreed her friend, who was a tattoo artist apprentice, always sketching out designs in her notebook. Abigail.
Effie pulled out a map of the local trails from the set of wall pockets that housed the town’s tourism materials and passed it to Amy. ‘Here, you can use this if you want to go exploring. You can polish up anything you find in a rock tumbler, or even in a dryer, if you have one. Although I probably wouldn’t take them to the laundromat.’
‘A tumbler...’ mused Abigail.
Maybe Effie should get one for the library. It could be her way of taking a stand against Oswald’s Griftertorium and its overpriced sham magic.
Having waved goodbye to Tessa’s group of crafters – most of whom had emerged from their session with something resembling a turtle, and in a few cases, something closer to agreen worm – Effie sat down at her computer, ready to place an order for a rock tumbler.
But right as she went to hit the checkout button, a thud from the stacks startled her, making her wrists flash green.
What was that?
Heart thudding, Effie grabbed a hardcover book and made her way through the dark stacks. The library was closed, and Tessa’s event had been an after-hours thing, so there should be no one here. Not Bowow searching for a few extra cowboy romances to add to her list. Not Tammi munching away on her latest library snacks. Not poor Thomas, who was outside in his truck.
‘Effie?’
Spinning on the heel of her Doc Martens, Effie lunged with her book. The strike connected viciously enough that she could feel it reverberating up her wrists all the way through to her shoulders.
The intruder grunted in surprise.
‘Ow! What the hell?’
Oh shit, it was Theo. Ofcourseit was Theo, traipsing around here like his very generous donation meant that he owned the place.
Theo rubbed his arm. ‘Wow, I guess the pen really is mightier than the sword. That hurt.’
‘We’re closed!’ Effie snapped.
‘I know. I just thought it would be rude to head out without saying goodnight. Are you okay locking up by yourself?’
Aha, thought Effie triumphantly. He was a white knight type who couldn’t fathom a woman being able to fend for herself. She’dknownhe was too good to be true. Besides, she was a witch! She was perfectly capable of looking after herself. Not to mention that Yellowbrick Grove was safe to a fault. The worst that might happen here was that your pizza delivery came with the wrong toppings. Or maybe someone might cut a few roses from one of the bushes in the park.
‘Why wouldn’t I be all right locking up?’ she retorted. ‘I do it every night. And this is the first time a would-be serial killer has been sneaking around like a creeper.’
‘A would-be serial killer? Do Ilooklike a serial killer?’
Spoken just like Patrick Bateman. ‘I can’t think of anyone who looksmorelike a serial killer. You’re well dressed. Quiet. You keep to yourself. I bet your neighbours say that you’re polite.’
Theo raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, yes. Except for a stint in my early twenties when my neighbours would have said quite the opposite. But anyway, I’m not big on blood. It’s such a pain to get the stains out.’
