Chapter 5: Mystery in the Library

Lavender handed me a library card.

Oliver Evans Member Number: 40269 Membership: Special (Request Only) Expires on: 12/7/1941

I looked at it in awe. Nobody had even given me an ID card, so the library card was special. “Are there forty thousand over members of this library?” I asked, noticing the first thing on the card. “Also, does this mean I can go to the special section?” I didn’t bother to ask about the expiration date, which was over eight years in the future. “It means you can request special books,” Lavender replied. “And only when you need something specific. You do that by filling out a request form and leaving it on the designated shelf. She led me to the back of the library where one of the shelves was mysteriously free of books. Sitting on the empty spot was a small pad of paper with a single word on it. “Requests.” I picked up the pad and wrote. “Book of magic.” Nothing happened. I looked up at Lavender, who shrugged. “As I said, it only works when you need something,” she explained. I gaped at her. “Nobody even checked it yet. Is that monk…err orangutan going to bring me the book if it likes what I write?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way. First off, he already got your request. Second, he will know if you’re just trying to get him to give you books. Don’t abuse this or you might find yourself cut off.” I frowned. Lavender didn’t understand. I needed books! “You still have access to the rest of the library,” she replied, seeming to read my mind. “There are lots of very informative books you have yet to read. Don’t discount the knowledge at your fingertips just because it’s not labeled as special.” “Good point,” I sighed, glancing around the library and feeling guilty for neglecting the wealth of knowledge at my immediate disposal. Just five minutes ago, I would have thanked my lucky stars for access to a library full of books. “Um, Mr. Branch told me to help out up here while he works.” “That’s right,” Lavender replied, rubbing her hands together. “Have you ever heard of the Dewey Decimal System?”

Mr. Branch didn’t return for several hours. In the meantime, I learned the way the library organized its books and worked on returning stacks of returned books to their proper shelves. Lavender spent a good portion of her time in the back, only returning once to hand me a single book.

Magical Storage Devices Owner: Lavender

“This is from my personal collection,” she whispered. “It’s a little out of your league at the moment but I can tell you are curious so here it is.” “Is this…?” I asked, trailing off when Lavender nodded. The book began with a brief overview of how magic bags were created.

The bag itself is not magic. The active ingredient is the hair of a Shade that ties shadows to the void. The resultant nil space can be utilized to create a pocket space with a variety of features. This includes expanded capacity, weight reduction, and time distortion. Some additional ingredients are required depending on the feature.

I looked down at my shadow, wondering if there was a way to harvest hair from it. Lavender smirked as though she knew what I was thinking. “Bear in mind that while I am providing you with information, I will not help you with your creations,” I frowned, looking back and forth between her and the book. “Then how am I supposed to make one of these?” “You’ll figure it out,” she replied, her expression softening. “That’s part of your gift.” Mr. Branch returned before I could ask any more questions and I was quickly ushered from the library. He only noticed the book when we were a few blocks away. “You didn’t steal that, did you?” “No, Sir,” I replied, tucking it into my pants. “Miss Lavender gave it to me. It was a gift.” “Is that so?” He replied off-handedly. “I’ll have to confirm that.” The next stop was a corner market with a squeaky door. “It’s doing it again?” The shop owner complained he saw us approach. I decided to Analyze the door while Mr. Branch rummaged through one of the bags on his trolley.

Old Rickety Door Owner: Jonas

Error: Item Damaged. Strike plate is misaligned. Door warped. Frame cracked. Replacement recommended.

Mr. Branch did none of those things. He took out a can of oil and began applying it to the hinges before trying the door a few times. While it didn’t make noise, it caught when it came into contact with the frame. “What about the strike plate?” I asked, looking over his shoulder. “Quiet,” Mr. Branch growled. However, he did remove the strike place, looking it over carefully before screwing it back into the door jam. Due to the severity of the problem, the door continued to stick when he closed it again. “Maybe you should replace the whole thing,” I replied, feeling self-satisfied with my skill. “There are too many things wrong with this one to fix.” Both men stopped what they were doing to stare at me. “That’s what we’re trying to avoid,” Mr. Branch said finally. “Do you know how much a new door costs?”

Suggestion: Reframe the door.

The text startled me. I hadn’t activated it. Was it listening to the conversation or had I somehow forgotten to turn it off? Mr. Branch and the shop owner decided my lack of a response meant I was taking the hint to be silent and went back to discussing it between themselves. “Um,” I said, clearing my throat to get their attention. “Would it be cheaper to remake the frame?” They looked at each other. “What good would that do?” “Well, the current frame is cracked,” I explained, pointing at a crack. “And it might stop giving you problems if you make a new one that the door fits into.” “Well, I could do that,” Mr. Branch said to the store owner. “It’ll cost ya though.” “How much?” The owner replied.

Mr. Branch put me to work sweeping the floors while he once again went in the back. I thought about the book while cleaning. A short while later, Mr. Branch returned. “Put that broom away, Kid. We’re going to the hardware store to get supplies.” “Are we reframing it?” I asked hopefully. “I am,” he replied. “You’re going to watch and learn.”

You have gained 100 experience points.

That was strange. I got more experience without actually doing anything. Was it the fact that my Analysis was being acted on? That was another mystery. I wonder what experience is for anyway.

You are level 1 Experience: 400/500 To next level: 100 experience points

I blinked away the message. Had I just Analyzed my level? Were levels good for anything? What would happen when I reached level two? I wished Mr. Branch had left me in that library to talk to Lavender. Perhaps she could take me on as an assistant Librarian. I’d have to check with Miss Havasu to see if that was possible. As usual, we walked in silence, Mr. Branch pushing the trolley and me struggling to keep up. He was a motivated man, power-walking everywhere he went while pushing a massive trolley. If I wasn’t too busy struggling to keep up, I would have admired him. When we got to the hardware store, he told me to wait by the front while he talked to a man in the back about having some wood cut. For once, he didn’t assign me any chores while I waited. That worked for me as I wanted to read some more of the book.

Basic void bags increase internal storage by only a few inches. This is achieved by using specially treated thread to imitate the effects of Shade hairs. For a bag of infinite space, true hairs of a Shade must be used on all facets of the bag. For weight reduction, there are several approved methods. The least expensive is to use the core of an air elemental to decrease the density of items stored in the bag. This can be crushed and infused into the material before it’s woven or applied to a special lining placed inside the bag. A more effective weight reduction method requires a living shadow to make its home in the bag. The resultant void pocket will render anything placed inside weightless.

I was about to get to the section on preservation when Mr. Branch emerged carrying several long strips of lumber. He motioned at me and said, “I’ll need you to push the trolley on the way back. Be sure not to break anything.” Mr. Branch was a lot stronger than he looked. I struggled to push the trolley and keep up with Mr. Branch when he power-walked. He let out a loud sigh and slowed down as we made our way back to the customer’s shop. “What do you think of what I do so far?” He asked after walking in silence for a while. “It’s interesting,” I replied. “I’ll be honest, though. I’m more interested in working for that Librarian. “She was a looker, wasn’t she?” He said, rubbing his chin. “I’d want to work there too if I were you. Unfortunately, there’s no money there. Library work is for spinsters and shrews. You’re much better off picking a trade and working hard. You want to make something of yourself, don’t you?” I wanted to mention that she knew about magic and had her own orangutan, but that didn’t feel like something I should be blurting out. People might think I was mad. “I do want to make something of myself,” I sighed. “I just don’t know what that is, and I think Miss Lavender might have some answers.” “I meant to ask you about that,” he said, readjusting the long strips of wood on his shoulder. “Since when are you on a first-name basis with her? Did she tell you to call her that?” I hesitated. Did she tell me her name? No, I’d read it from her Analysis. “Uh, no,” I replied sheepishly. “I didn’t get her last name.” “It was, um…” he hesitated. “Actually, I don’t know her last name either. How did you learn her first name? Did she tell you?” “She must have,” I lied. “Otherwise, how would I know.” “I suppose,” he muttered, setting the wood against the wall as we arrived at the shop. I debated taking out the book while Mr. Branch removed the old door and pried the frame from the wall. Just when I was about to do so, he offered me a hammer. “Would you like to hammer the nails in while I hold the frame in place?” “Sure,” I replied, eager to use a hammer for the first time. While most kids might have experienced hammering at a younger age than me, my stepmother had seen to it that the only work I got to do included cleaning and light cooking. Anything I might consider fun was strictly off-limits. It was also possible that she worried I’d break things if given access to fancy tools like hammers. “Okay, I’ve marked the spots where I want you to hammer in the nails,” he instructed. “Just place a nail…yes, like that, and hammer it in.” I checked with the Analyze skill to be sure.

Wooden Frame: Hammer the nails into the frame, securing it to the wall.

“Thanks a lot,” I muttered as I held the nail and swung the hammer.

CRUNCH!

“Ow!” I screamed, dropping the hammer as a jolt of pain shot from my thumb and up my arm. My first strike did two things. It bent the nail and crushed my thumb all in an instant. I did the only thing I could think of to alleviate the pain. I ran out into the street and swung my arm around in circles. Mr. Branch set the frame aside and picked up the hammer, watching me impatiently as I continued to do my dance of pain. “Walk it off, Son,” he sighed, attempting to steady the frame while he extricated the bent nail. “Nothing got cut off. You’ll live.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be a handyman if one of the job hazards included the loss of a limb. My thumb was rapidly turning purple as blood pooled beneath the skin. I sucked on it as I watched Mr. Branch hammer in the nail by himself.

You have gained 100 experience points. Congratulations, you are now level 2.

Chapter 5: Mystery in the Library

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