He handed me a piece of silver bark, and evidently caught me when I slumped into a half-swoon, babbling snatches of the vision to my comrades, which I have now recorded here.
    It is not from this world, but from one that has not seen our sun in thousands of years. It is a tree that loves the moon, that shies from Daen's eye and grows only under the light of the moon when her face is showing, in the winter. Its purity is legendary; it is not to be cut or defiled.... I was one of a glade of silver trees spreading our leaves under the moon, flowering by moonlight, climbed by men who are not men, the grove protecting the land from the god of demons in the forest which no wolf stalks.
    That would be a nice change of pace, Adam signed sarcastically.
    "That would seem to go along with what Miss Rajid was saying," Kane nodded.
    Please elaborate, Adam requested.
    "She said there was a... how did she put this... bubble of a world that might have been, intersecting with ours for a while."
    "And someone's gone in and is cutting down the trees?" I mused, recovering somewhat. Not to be cut or defiled... I should think that a bandsaw is quite out of the question.
    "Apparently. I suppose it's aggressive logging...."
    "Well. We have to stop whatever is happening at the mill. I think that's what I was about to say, before you gave me this." I handed the bark back to the vampire.
    "Certainly would seem that way."
    A trip to the library seemed in order first; the third shift would not be on for some time to come.
    I for one would like to see it, Adam said.
    "They have a surprisingly good theater here, I can only imagine what they have for a library," Kane shrugged.
    "It's quite impressive; the local history section is very thorough," I told him.
    "Well, there's not a lot else to record up here. I doubt there's a hotbed of astrophysics research."
    He had a point. We got our coats and walked up the street; once again, the door was opened as we approached.
    "Hello, dear, so glad to have you back. Won't you come in?"
    "Delighted," I smiled. Kane and I came in; behind us, Adam nearly had the door closed in his face. "Excuse me...?"
    "We're going to let the cold in," she chided as he slipped inside. "Now. Were those books helpful?"
    "Oh, they were enormously helpful."
    "Oh good, I'm glad, I'm glad. I trust you're bringing them all back?"
    "Oh yes. I'll bring them back in the morning," I promised.
    "Excellent, excellent. Come on in." She ushered me toward the desk as Martha paraded herself past us.
    "Heard you screaming last night," she remarked snidely. "I understand a lot of married women do that."
    I would have given her a migraine if I could; curious about her antagonism, I gave in and tried to scan her, only to find... nothing at all. Adam's mind is less opaque to me.
    "What can I help you with?" the middle-aged woman asked, and noticed my frown. "My daughter has some... issues with other women, especially, well, married ones," she whispered. "She's usually... anyway," she changed her mind. "So what can I help you with today?"
    I glanced at Kane, who had wanted to come here.
    He was busy at the time trying to figure out how many people there actually were in the room, and coming up with me and Adam and no one else. "Ask her about this," he said, putting the bark on the desk. "I'll be back." He went to see if there were any other live people in the place. There were three of the odd entities in total, the third an aged woman he found sitting in the back stacks, flipping through one of a collection of old Bibles—the Earhart family—and paying him no attention whatsoever.
    "Oh, that's interesting," the librarian cooed, seeing the bark. "I didn't see you put that down. I'll have to ask my mother about this. Mother!"
    An old woman emerged from a back room on the upper floor and hobbled to the rail. "Yes?"
    "She was asking about this." She held up the bark.
    "Hm. I'll be right down. Martha, come give me a hand," she commanded.
    "Anything I can do help out the young missus," she muttered, heading up the stairs.
    "Don't give me that crap, young lady, I'll hit you with my stick." Having attained the lower floor she picked up the bark, studied it for a moment, sniffed. "Hm. Argent tree. Haven't seen this in some time. Freshly cut," she noted, rolling it gently in her fingers. "Grown under the light of the moon in Shandamir, hasn't been on this world in two thousand years. It doesn't have a Latin derivate name, I'm afraid," she told me.
    "I can understand why that would be the case. That's very interesting." I tried to touch her mind; all three of them were the same. Nothing, at least nothing I could read, and they seemed to have trouble perceiving Kane and Adam for some reason.
    The door opened and a man came in, slapping his gloves hands together. "Whoo, chilly out there." He nodded to the women. "Carrie, Molly. Hi, Martha," he added in a very different voice.
    "Hello," she smiled. "Let me direct you, since she's," dagger glance, "taking up everyone else's time...." Her glance said, Other people like me.
    Mine said, That's very nice for you.
    "Excuse me, sir," the man said to Adam, squeezing around him. "Who's the big guy over there," he asked Martha.
    "Excuse me?"
    "Uh, the big guy."
    She simpered a little. "Oh, you're so funny...."
    "Can I help you with anything else?" Carrie asked.
    "Um... no, I think that will be all for now."
    "Eve?" Kane called. "From what you were saying earlier, ask her what she thinks would happen if you were using a bandsaw on that."
    I relayed the question.
    Her wrinkles scrunched up. "Using a bandsaw on argent wood...the wood would scream and bleed ethereal magic, the moon would blind itself, and turn away its face. Close its eyes so it wouldn't see anything, the walls between worlds break down, the demon that stalks all in the midst of the night would roam free. You'd have to burn it, though," she added matter of factly. "Once you'd cut it to pieces."
    

| Top |