Modern Magick

The Striding Spire: 15

'Good job, puppy,' I whispered, awed.

For this room was larger than the rest of the cottage put together, and it was packed full. It looked like it might once have been a barn, or something of the like, for it consisted of a large open space with a high ceiling supported by thick, crooked beams, and the windows were near the top of the walls. Shelves, chests of drawers and bookcases were everywhere in evidence, to the pup's delight, for many of them bore objects of obvious value: jewellery, Wands, trinkets and Curiosities, even one or two genuine Treasures as far as I could tell. There were a great many books as well, and — to my relief — a section which was clearly designated for the storage of papers.

I made straight for that, and by the time Jay found his way through the sneaky enchantment on Jenifry's kitchen door, I was up to my eyeballs in crumbling old documents. Figuratively speaking.

'Soooo,' said Jay with a low whistle, walking up behind me. 'Do you suppose all this is legally held?'

'Probably not, considering how eager they've been to hide it. Help me with this, Jay?' I had found a set of four bookcases fitted edge-to-edge and back-to-back, and their shelves were stuffed with old books, proper scrolls with ribbon bindings, notebooks, journals, and everything of that sort. There was so much of it, and we did not have much time before Jenifry would appear — or send someone else to intercept us.

Jay took a look at the job that lay before us, and blanched. 'Try Mauf,' he suggested.

'He says he needs time to absorb this much information.'

'We don't need him to absorb it all, but he may be able to identify what we need.'

So I extracted Mauf. 'Dearest book, if you can contrive to find out whether any of these books and such were written by, or predominantly about, the brothers Melmidoc and Drystan Redclover, our gratitude would know no bounds.'

'I cannot do much with gratitude,' remarked Mauf. 'Do you have something more concrete?'

'What did you have in mind?'

'I want a proper ribbon bookmark. Silk, not polyester. And a sleeping bag.'

'A sleeping— never mind. I will get you anything you like, as long as you're quick.'

'Bookcase to your left,' instructed Mauf. 'Second shelf from the top, third book from the end. Melmidoc's journal of his discoveries, covering the years 1618 to 1630. Bookcase behind that, bottom shelf, a small notebook with crumbling pages — how embarrassing — entitled "A Mayor's Recollections of Service," written by Drystan Redclover.'

We hurriedly collected both.

I took the liberty of kissing Mauf's front cover soundly. 'Best book ever.'

The book gave what sounded like a cough, if the rustling of dry pages could ever be termed such. 'That spire you were asking me about. Is that also of interest?'

'Yes!'

'Scroll, bottom shelf. The one with the sumptuous tassels. "An Account of the Deliberations of the Dappledok Council Regarding the Matter of the Spire." I advise you to take all three in that pile.'

I gave him another kiss. 'I love you,' I said as I stuffed him back in the bag.

His response was too muffled to be understood.

I put the books and scrolls in on top of him, trusting that he would enjoy the company sufficiently to forgive me the indignity.

'Time to go,' I told Jay.