“Um, well I had to tell Dr Radcliffe most of it, but I’ve left out a few key details… like the fact that I’m planning to staff the event with Eternals.”
“Eternals?!?!?!” both Kate and Mathilde gasp in perfect harmony.
I wave them to lower their voices. “Calm down. The Eternals at St Margaret have agreed with the plan. I’ll put you two on the guest list so you can see for yourself.”
Mathilde rubs her hands together with glee, “I’ve never been invited to a gala. I don’t care what the date is or what else I might have planned. I’ll be there. You don’t even have to bribe me with the Eternals.”
I smile at Mathilde; her excitement is contagious. “Excellent!” I put a tick next to one of my tasks, double-checking that I haven’t missed any other news. “That seems to be it for me. Other than that, I have little else to say. All my Eternals are accounted for. They’re working so hard on the event they haven’t had time to look into anything else.”
I flip the page over and write a new heading. “Mathilde, you were going to recall a book from each of the thirty-eight colleges, to see if they had any information or ideas on what is going wrong with the magic. I should have asked before, but how does that work exactly? Do the books talk to you? Can you ask them anything you want? I didn’t think we had any texts about our magic.”
“We don’t have any texts about the magic, unfortunately. That would be a big help right now. I recalled an autobiography from each college library. Those are the only books that can speak. They’ve also got to have a photo of the person somewhere in the book, as that’s what talks. Kinda like your portraits,” explains Mathilde.
I think back on Catherine Morgan and Dr Thicke, chatting away from within their picture frames. “Oh! That makes sense. I’ve spent plenty of time in the St Margaret Library researching, but I hadn’t consulted any autobiographies.”
Mathilde pauses for another sip of her beer. “You can ask any of the rest of the books a question and if they have the information you seek inside of their cover, they’ll flip open to the correct page.”
Nodding, I reply, “Yes, that was exactly my experience. I was researching the history of the college. Being able to ask the books was much faster than digging through a bunch of indexes. Thanks for answering my question. Now, where were we? Oh yes, your talking autobiographies. Did you learn anything?”
“It isn’t good news, I’m afraid,” Mathilde reports.
“Are your books missing?” asks Kate.
“I almost wish they were.”
Kate and I look at one another. What could be worse for a librarian than missing books?
Mathilde launches into her tale. “Most of my books reported back in, but one of them didn’t. The one from Iffley College. At first, like you, I thought maybe the book had gone missing. I phoned up the college librarian, and he assured me it was right there on the shelf.”
“What did you do?” I ask.
“I made an excuse and taxied over to the college to check for myself. He was right, it was sitting there on the shelf, in plain view.”
Concerned, Kate interjects, “Did it say why it hadn’t reported back in?”
“It didn’t say anything. In fact, none of the books in the entire library said a word. They didn’t move at all.” Mathilde explained.
Kate’s eyebrows climb to her hairline as she looks at Mathilde in confusion. “None of them? What does that mean?”
“I shoved three of them in my bag and practically ran the distance back to the Bodleian. When I brought them inside, for the first hour they sat there in silence on my desk.”
“And then what happened?” I ask, completely enraptured in the story.
“One minute they were quiet and then the next they were gabbing on about deep sleep and missing memories. When I calmed them down again, they said that the last thing they could remember was being on the shelf at Iffley. After that, the next thing was my desk. In between that, nothing. The magic just disappeared.”
With a crash, H sets down his empty pint glass, causing us all to jump. He’d been unusually quiet, and we’d forgotten he was there. “Iffley College? Wotcha mean thar’s no magic at Iffley? Tha magical field covers all tha colleges. Iffley can’t be left out. Tha magic can’t disappear.”
Mathilde shakes her head, “I can’t say that I checked everything, but as far as I can tell the college has no access to the magical field.”
“I’m gonna need another stout,” H announces before folding his head into his hands.
“Me too,” echoes Kate and heads up to the bar to place another order.
I look around the table, waiting for someone to share more information. H is too busy blubbering into his hands to take note of me, and all of Mathilde’s attention is focused on her pint glass. I rap on the table, jolting both H and Mathilde out of their deep thoughts. “Is there anything special about Iffley?” I haven’t been here long enough to know where all 30-something colleges are located.
“It’s not far from you,” explains Kate, returning with another round. “Maybe 3, 4 blocks away from St Margaret.”
“So Iffley has no magic at all, and St Margaret is showing signs of a weakening connection. Are there any other colleges around our area? Did you check them?” I look at Mathilde and hope she has some good news.
“There are two more in your part of town - LMH and Norham College both seem fine. I don’t understand how Iffley could end up outside of the magical field. I hate to say it, but if we don’t strengthen St Margaret’s connection, you might lose the magic there. Your autumn gala should provide temporary help… it is a Ceremony. But no amount of parties will save us if we don’t get to the
