Reid felt oddly at home in the Unseen University library. It was just books, after all, and he loved books.

Morgan came in just as the Librarian was bringing over another stack of the materials Reid had requested. Sometimes long arms came in handy.

"Thank you," Reid said. "By any chance, do you have anything on abnormal psychology?"

"Oook?"

"Criminal insanity. Do you have anything on that subject?"

"Ook! Ook ook EEK IK!"

"Restricted section?" Reid asked, as Morgan stood by in utter astonishment. "What restricted section?"

"Ook ook ooooook!" The Librarian pointed to a section of the library where the books were chained to their shelves.

"Oh, I see. Words have literal power here. All right, well, do you have anything in the non-restricted section?"

"OOK!" The Librarian waddled over, snatched the bananas from Morgan's arms, and headed off into the stacks. Morgan stared after him with a puzzled look on his face. Then he turned to Reid, who was already opening the first book in a sizeable stack.

"Since when do you speak Orangutan?"

"Oh, I can't speak it. But for some reason, I can understand him. A lot of the meaning is conveyed in tone of voice, facial expressions, body language-"

"We are assimilating," Morgan said. "Learning their languages, using their words-clacks, privy-it's like we're being written into the story."

"If that's true," said Reid, his eyes still scanning the pages in front of him, "how do we get out again?"

"That, we don't know. Yet. You find anything useful yet?"

"I've found a lot of useful information. For example, did you know that Ankh-Morpork now covers three-quarters of the land mass of a single continent? Or that there are eight colors in the spectrum, and the eighth is the color of magic, that only wizards can see? Or that trolls-"

"Anything relevant to the case?" Morgan interrupted him.

Reid looked up. "No, not yet. But I've asked Horace to find me some-"

"Who's Horace?"

"Oh. The Librarian."

"His name's Horace?"

"Well, it was. Before he was hit with a major magical anomaly, he was a human wizard, but that was ages ago, and the current faculty doesn't remember him. Do you have any more bananas?"

"No. Why?"

"Because he's back."

Morgan turned around, and sure enough, there was the Librarian, carrying a thick book under one arm.

"Ook!"

"Thank you, Horace."

"Ook ook?"

"No, I'm sorry, we don't have any more bananas right now, but I'll make sure the next person who comes through the door brings some. Derek, can you send another clacks to Hotch? Tell him there's a fruit seller on the corner of Short Street and Small Gods Avenue."

"Ook ook ook!" The Librarian pointed upwards.

"He says the clacks tower is on the roof. You know how to work it, right?"

"Yeah, I got the general idea. Corner of Short and Small Gods, you said?"

"Across from the cemetery."

"That's a cemetery? I thought it was a park!"

"It's very well maintained. A lot of the zombies come and tend their own gravesites."

"Zombies . . . this place is just too weird. Let me know what you find, okay?" Morgan shook his head and walked away, then stopped dead when he realized he had no idea where he was going. "Um-"

"Ook ook!"

"In the back," Reid translated. "The door between the office and the privy."

"Thanks." Morgan resumed his journey, vowing that no matter what it took, no matter who he had to ask for help-wizards, apes, zombies, even freaking werewolves, if it came to that-he was getting home.

He thought he'd seen everything, but this place was just too many kinds of weird.