"Jenkins! Quick question for you!" Eve Baird briskly announced as she breezed through the door and into the lab. She held a rolled piece of grimy canvas in one hand, looking very like a cat that's gotten into the cream. Jenkins glanced up from his work at the sound of her voice. At once his dark eyes narrowed in suspicion at the object the Guardian was carrying.
"Of course, Colonel," he answered warily, moving his gaze from the canvas to her eyes in hopes of finding some clue as to what she was up to. "How may I be of assistance?" Eve held the object aloft for a moment, then laid it with deliberation on the table in front of her. Jenkins could see that whatever it was, it was very old, judging from the amount of dirt trapped in the weave of the aged canvas and the slightly fraying edges, at least in the parts of the fabric that he could see.
"Do you remember the Sesselman job a few years in New Hampshire?" she asked, a look of exaggerated thoughtfulness coming to her face. "The one with the soul contract?"
"Of course," Jenkins answered at once, "A nasty business." Eve nodded in agreement.
"And do you remember the part when I slugged my friend for signing the contract?"
"I do," he said. An uneasy feeling began to tug insistently at his gut as the conversation progressed.
"And do you remember when he asked us who we were?" Eve pressed, her head lolling to one side, blue eyes fixed on his, looking for a reaction. She was pleased to see a well-practiced look of indifference fall over the old man's weathered face just before he dropped his gaze and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
"Vaguely," he huffed shortly, and turned his attention back to his work. "Now if you'll excuse me, Colonel, I have to finish this research for Mr. Carsen before—"
"Do you remember the answer you gave him to that question, Jenkins?" she persisted. Cold brown eyes flicked up for a moment before dropping back to the scattered sheets pf paper and books on the table before him.
"Colonel Baird, I really don't have time for these silly guessing games," he snapped irritably, "Clearly you have something to say; I wish you would simply say it and then leave me in peace!" Eve, taken aback by sharpness of his tone, pulled herself upright and squared her shoulders. She cleared her throat.
"You told him that 'we' were Librarians," she said tonelessly as she watched him closely. "You included yourself. You called yourself a Librarian." Jenkins slid off of the stool he was sitting on and stood upright, calmly turned to face her. Her breath caught in her throat at the icy look of warning in his eyes.
"You misunderstood me, Colonel," he said slowly, his voice a warning growl, "I meant 'we' as in 'all of us who work for the Library'. Nothing more." He turned back to his work and pulled a spellbook across the table towards him. He opened the book and began loudly flipping through its pages.
"Good day, Colonel Baird," he dismissed gruffly without looking up from the book. Eve took a deep breath, preparing herself. She hadn't made it to the rank of colonel in NATO by ignoring a hot lead.
"That's what I thought at first, too," she continued, ignoring his warning, "In fact, that's what I've been thinking all this time—until I found this."
Baird picked up the grimy canvas and gingerly unrolled it to reveal a small oil painting of a tall, thin man. He had shoulder-length ebony hair and wide, serious brown eyes set into a pale boyish-looking face. By his clothing the painting could be dated to sometime in the fifteenth century; the figure wore a long floor-length robe of dark green damask, the high collar and sleeve cuffs trimmed in rich brown sable. A fine leather belt cinched the robe tightly around his narrow frame, while a chain of thick gold links was draped over his shoulders and hung over his chest. He stood next to a tall stand of white marble over which had been draped with a brilliant crimson cloth. Perched on the stand was a small, simply-made, handle-less cup about the size of a traditional china teacup. It had a tiny foot to keep it upright and appeared to be made of pure gold.
Jenkins froze, his eyes focused on nothing as he stared down at the tabletop. He didn't need to look at the Guardian's discovery. He knew all too well what it depicted, and a look of shame overtook his expression. As she watched him, Eve realized that she had stumbled upon something much bigger than just a long-forgotten painting of their cranky old Caretaker.
"Where did you find that?" he asked, his voice soft and resigned.
"In Charlene's—in my office," Eve corrected herself. She still wasn't used to having an entire office of her own yet, especially one the size of a small house. "It was in an old leather tube in the back corner of a storage closet." She gently brushed her hand over the surface of the portrait as if brushing dust from it.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"No." Silence fell between them. After a couple of minutes Eve began rolling up the painting again.
"Fine," she said shortly, disappointed, "Have it your way." Jenkins heard the hurt in his friend's voice and was immediately filled with remorse.
"Colonel, wait!" he called out just as Baird was passing through the doorway. She turned and looked back, her expression neutral. Jenkins turned and faced her, dropped his gaze. His hand began to run anxiously over the front of his lab coat.
"I…was…invited to be become a Librarian," he started, stumbling a bit as he carefully chose his words. "But, perhaps fortunately, I was never officially a Librarian."
"I think the painting says differently?" Eve said after a soft snort of disbelief. She headed back to the table, holding up the painting to prove her point as she walked. "Flynn told me that the Library only produces these after a Librarian has completed their first mission, right? To commemorate their first successfully recovered artifact?" Jenkins, his hand resting over his stomach, nodded his confirmation reluctantly, his eyes still averted.
"Nevertheless," he insisted, "I never made it past the probationary period." Eve cocked her head questioningly and narrowed her eyes.
"I find that hard to believe," she said, "And I've never seen any other portraits of any other Librarians who ultimately washed out, sooooo…" She stopped and stared expectantly at him, then shrugged her shoulders when refused to say any more. Jenkins drummed the fingers of his free hand on the tabletop, debating with himself as to what to do now. After a moment Jenkins finally forced himself to look up.
"I'd like for this to stay between just the two of us?" he said. Though his voice was quiet, Eve could hear a longing to tell the story. But only to her.
"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Jenkins, but anything you do share with me—I swear that it goes no further than this room," she promised sincerely. Satisfied with her answer, the old immortal grunted and took a deep breath.
"I've always suspected that Charlene somehow finagled an invitation from the Library on my behalf, but she would ever admit it," he began. He walked around the end of the table as he spoke, pulled a chair over to the table and held his hand out in invitation for Eve to sit.
"I knew that I didn't have what it took to be a Librarian, but—well…I was more than a little smitten with Charlene at the time and I wanted to please her." His cheeks turned a faint pink as he confessed his motives. "Looking back on it now, I think she did it more as an attempt to get me out of the Library and—more importantly—out of her hair."
"I don't believe Charlene would do that," Eve protested, her face sympathetic. "She believed that you would make a good Librarian…" Jenkins snorted quietly and shook his head, a small, wry smile coming to his lips.
"No," he denied, "I didn't have what it takes to be a Librarian, and I knew it from the beginning." He made his way back to his side of the table and sat down on the stool.
"Librarians have to be…impulsive," he explained. There was no bitterness at all in his voice as he explained the situation. "Librarians have to be able to fly by the seat of their pants, so to speak—planning and forethought do not come easily to them, not to the best ones, anyway." Baird laughed and shook her blonde head as memories of her own flighty Librarians flashed through her mind.
"You're preaching to the choir, Jenkins!" she exclaimed, and he gave her a crooked smile as he looked down at his hands folded in front of him on the table.
"Yes, well, by the time I joined the Library I'd had my fill of gallivanting about, fighting monsters and seducing princesses…" Eve dropped her head and regarded the former knight with raised, questioning eyebrows.
"Seducing princesses?" she repeated in a very interested tone of voice. She leaned over the table, her blue eyes fixed intently on her friend. "Do tell!" He cocked his head, mimicking the Guardian, and cocked one brow of his own in reproof.
"A gentleman does not kiss and tell," he replied deadpan, and Eve laughed again.
"Especially if he's married!" she teased him, eliciting a soft chuckle from the old man.
"Especially if he's married," he agreed, thoughts of Cassandra brining warmth to his eyes. Seeing her opportunity, Eve went back to questioning him about his Librarian past.
"So what was your first mission? What artifact were you sent to find?" His dark eyes instantly cooled. He looked at his hands again, inhaled, then looked up at Eve.
"I was tasked with recovering the Holy Grail."
Baird stared at Jenkins for a few seconds, gobsmacked, her body slowly moving backward on her chair.
"The Holy Grail?" she asked, doubtful, "The same Holy Grail as in the legends about King Arthur? The one you already found once before?" Jenkins merely nodded slightly. Eve looked down at the painting, confusion washing over her.
"But…this painting—that's not the Holy Grail!" she declared, turning puzzled eyes back onto the Caretaker. "I've seen the Holy Grail; it looks nothing like what's in this pointing! OH…!" Eve gasped as is suddenly struck her what Jenkins was saying.
"The Holy Grail in the Library," she said breathlessly, her voice low as though afraid of eavesdroppers, her eyes going wide. "That's not really the Holy Grail!" A tight humorless smile pulled at the corners of the Caretaker's mouth.
"No, it's not."
The Guardian's body slumped on her seat, her mouth dropping open in stunned disbelief at the bombshell the old immortal had just dropped. After a few moments, she regained her voice and quickly leaned over the table again.
"Okay, you have to tell me this story!" she demanded, her voice and body taut now with anticipation. Jenkins anxiously smoothed the front of his lab coat as he took a deep, silent breath.
"I already knew exactly where it was—" he began, somewhat offhandedly.
"You did?! How?!" Eve exclaimed loudly, and Jenkins scowled at the interruption. Eve raised her hands. "Okay, okay—sorry! Go ahead." Self-consciousness fell over Jenkins's face and he fidgeted uncomfortably on his stool.
"I don't want to go into all of the details, but suffice it to say that when I found the Grail the first time, I became its next—Guardian," he said awkwardly. Eve gave him a pointed look.
"A secret Librarian and a secret Guardian!" she said wonderingly, "How many other secret identities do you have, Jenkins?" He gave her a sour look.
"Do you want to hear this or not?" he said snippily, embarrassment making him short-tempered. Baird waved a hand toward him.
"Sorry! Please—tell me," she said. "So you're now Guardian of the Holy Grail!"
"Yes, I became its Guardian, as I said," he continued curtly, "It became my duty to protect the Grail at all costs, and so I hid it. It is a very powerful artifact; should it ever fall into the wrong hands—or even into the best, most well-meaning hands—it would likely spell disaster for the entire world!" Eve became serious and slightly alarmed at the dire tone of the older man's voice.
"How disastrous?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. Jenkins's face turned ashen and became slack and his eyes dulled, sending a chill up the woman's spine.
"The Grail has the power to heal and to grant immortality on any who drink from it," he said, his voice flat. Eve looked askance, confused. She could almost see a physical wall drop between herself and the former knight. As she continued to watch, his face drained of all blood and fear filled his unseeing eyes.
"Jenkins?" she said, concerned. But he didn't answer, only continued to stare silently past her head at something that only he could see. After a few seconds, she reached out and gently touched his arm.
"Jenkins?"
At her touch Jenkins suddenly snapped back to attention with a soft cry, his eyes blinking rapidly in befuddlement.
"Colonel Baird?" he said, clearly disoriented. Eve gave his arm a light squeeze.
"Jenkins, are you okay?" she asked worriedly, "You look like you're about to pass out!" He pulled his arm away and the color returned to his cheeks as he purposefully cleared his throat and began fussing self-consciously with his clothes.
"I'm fine, Colonel," he said brusquely, refusing to look her in the eye. "Only a…disagreeable memory, that's all. Nothing to be concerned about, I can assure you."
"I'm not assured," Eve said drily.
"As I started to say," he retorted, ignoring her, "I'm not going to go into all of the details because, frankly, they're none of your business. The Grail is a dangerous artifact. It needed to be brought into the security of the Library."
"So you went out, retrieved the Grail from its hiding place and brought it back to the Library," Eve summarized stiffly, stung by his sharp rebuke. "Then what? You hid it again someplace in the Library?"
'That's exactly what I did," Jenkins answered somberly, glowering. "Judson was furious, demanded to know where the Grail was, demanded that I turn it over to him. We fought about it for weeks, long and hard—we even nearly came to blows over it on more than one occasion."
"But you never gave it up," Eve said, fascinated despite the old man's surliness. A realization suddenly lit up her face.
"You gave Judson a false Grail to get him off your back!" she breathed, and cocked her head. "The real Grail is still hidden somewhere in the Library!" Jenkins raised his head, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
"It is," he said, "And I am the only living soul on this planet who knows where it is." He lowered his head, dropped his gaze for a moment as a look of distress crossed his face.
"I felt guilty for the deception at first; Judson and Charlene had been kind to me when I first came to the Library," he said, his voice troubled, "But the constant fighting was causing problems that were spreading throughout the Library. Plus, it was causing a great deal of distress for Charlene." He paused for a moment as he remembered with shame the tears in his beloved Charlene's eyes after she had broken up a particularly bitter row with Judson.
"After I handed over the false Grail, Judson demanded that I resign my position as a Librarian at once," he finished abashedly.
"Why?" Baird exclaimed, surprised.
"He said I was too undisciplined, too reckless to be a good Librarian," Jenkins said, resentment tingeing his words. Eve's mouth fell open.
"Are you kidding me?" she protested in disbelief. "Flynn Carsen—Mr. Undisciplined Recklessness himself—he makes a good Librarian, but you don't?" A wry smile came to Jenkins's mouth.
"'Undisciplined and reckless' is Judson-ese for 'insubordinate and willful'," the Caretaker answered, slightly amused, and he shook his head. "I think Judson and I were too much alike temperamentally to get along. Truth be told, we were always butting heads about something. When I returned with the Grail and we had our falling out, I realized that I could never be a Librarian while he was the Tethered Librarian." He snorted and looked up at Eve.
"At least I was self-disciplined enough to see that he was right about that," he continued, "And so I turned in my resignation letter the same day." Eve's shoulders dropped in disappointment for him.
"Oh, Jenkins—I'm so sorry!" she offered, but he only waved her sympathy away.
"No, Colonel, don't be sorry," he said, "It was the best decision for me, the right decision. I make a much better Caretaker than a Librarian."
"Yeah, but still…"
"No, it was the right decision," he repeated quietly, and his expression turned thoughtful. "Protecting the Grail—that was—and still is—the most important thing, and I have achieved that. " He looked up and into Eve's blue eyes.
"The Grail is safe from the world, and the world is safe from the Grail." He proclaimed the words as though they were a divine decree, tinged with just enough menace to cause the hair on the Guardian's arms to prickle. A perplexed frown came to her lips.
"You were given a pretty easy first mission and then you resigned, but yet the Library still produced a portrait of you," she mused aloud, then looked up at the sober-faced immortal. "Why? And are there other portraits like this that we don't know about, of other Librarians who—?" She almost said "failed" but caught herself in time; Jenkins had been no failure in her book. He clasped his hands in front of him and rolled his shoulders back as he took a breath and exhaled it audibly.
"As to your first question—just because I knew where it was hidden please don't assume that retrieving the Grail was 'easy'," Jenkins corrected her shortly, sarcastically sketching air quotes in front of him, "And as to your second question, it's as Mr. Carsen told you: A portrait is produced when a mission is successfully completed, regardless of whether the candidate becomes a full-fledged Librarian or not," he answered. "In that case the portrait is simply not displayed."
"So where are all of these other portraits?" Eve asked, curious. Jenkins shrugged.
"In the Archives, I imagine," he replied, "Though I have no idea why Charlene would keep mine hidden away in her office." A sour look passed over his face. "If Judson had known about that, he would've been very upset with her."
"Maybe she didn't want this part of your life to be lost and forgotten like it has been with the others?" Eve posited, a spark of empathy in her blue eyes. "I know your relationship with her couldn't be what you wanted it to be, Jenkins, but I think she still loved you as something more than just a friend." She laid her hand on the portrait as she spoke, her gaze never leaving the old man.
"I think she was proud of you. I think she was proud of you for accepting the letter, I think she was proud of you for bringing the Grail to the Library because you knew that this is where it needed to be. And even though it might've been rough on her being in the middle of it, I think she was especially proud of you for standing up to Judson and doing what you thought was right even though it cost you the Librarianship." There was a quiet snort from the Caretaker.
"And just how do you know that, Colonel?" he asked her acerbically. Eve stood up and walked around the bench to stand in front of him, her eyes looking intently into his.
"Because I'm a Tethered Guardian of the Library, just like Charlene was, and I'm proud of you, Jenkins," she answered. She caught a glimpse of something flash through his eyes at that. It reminded her of the time when she had tried to scold him after he disobeyed her orders and came to Kirby's magic carnival to find them after they'd gone missing.
Nothing will ever stop me from coming after you! His promise came back her, and it was same look that was in his eyes—Love. Not the same love as he had for Cassandra as her husband, but a love that was something more than simple friendship. She realized with a jolt to the depths of her being that when he had said "you" all those years ago, he hadn't meant simply "Eve Baird and the others". He had actually meant "you" as in "Eve Baird".
Jenkins lowered his eyes for a moment, not sure how to respond to such an intimate declaration. Eve said nothing more. Instead, she turned to look at the portrait on the workbench.
"So what do we do with this?" she briskly changed the subject. She could almost palpably feel his relief.
"I suppose it should go to the Archives, with the others," he opined, businesslike. He started to reach for it, but Eve laid her hand on his arm to stop him.
"Let me hang it in my office," she said quickly, her eyes intent.
"But then everyone will see it," he countered testily, "And then everyone will know about me and the false Grail and that would defeat the entire purpose of keeping the location of the true Grail a secret"
"Would that really be such a bad thing?" she asked, crossing her arms. Jenkins gave the Guardian a stony stare.
"What will Mr. Carsen do when he finds out that the artifact he thinks is the Grail is not actually the Grail?" he asked. Eve instantly understood the old immortal's reluctance.
"He would want to know where the true Grail is," she said, mentally kicking herself for not realizing that on her own. Jenkins nodded.
"He will want to know where it is, and again, as with Judson, I would have to refuse to tell him," he said somberly, "It would create unnecessary conflict and tension in the Library, perhaps even a dangerous distraction." He shook his silver head emphatically and raised both his hands.
"No, Colonel—this must all remain a secret!" Knowing she was defeated, Eve sighed.
"It's going to come out some time, Jenkins," she warned, "Someone will find out the truth sooner or later."
"Yes, well—I've managed to keep it hidden for over one thousand years," he replied airily, his eyes confident. "I think I can manage to do so for at least a few thousand more." He reached for the painting again, and Eve stopped him a second time.
"Then let me at least keep this in my office," she said urgently, "I'll put it back in the same hiding place where I found it, it'll be safe there!" He gave her a sour look.
"That's no longer a secure hiding place," he protested flatly, "If you found it, then someone else is likely to find it." He turned to look disdainfully at his younger self, and shook his head again. "In fact, the more I think about it, the only way to keep this information absolutely secret is to burn this painting..."
But before he could reach for the portrait a third time, Eve snatched it up. Rolling it up carefully, she backed away from the surprised immortal and safely out of his reach.
"Colonel Baird!" he yelped.
"You're not destroying this painting, Jenkins!" she said, still backing slowly towards the lab door. "I won't let you! I'll find a hiding place for it, someplace no one but me will ever know about!"
"Why do you care so much?" he demanded, dismayed by her attitude. Eve smiled at him.
"It's a piece of Library history, and not even you have the right to destroy a piece of Library history!" she shot back fiercely.
"But—"
"No 'buts', Jenkins!" she cut him off, raising a warning finger. "Like it or not, you're an important part of Library history as a Librarian! You don't get to choose which parts of that history stays and which parts get thrown out, so Librarian Jenkins stays!" A mischievous look came to the tall Guardian's face as she reached one hand out to grasp the door handle.
"Also—this will come in very handy for any future blackmail opportunities that might come up!" Jenkins's mouth fell open.
"Colonel Baird!" he yelled, aghast. His shock quickly turned to outrage, and he rushed toward the ginning Guardian. Eve threw the door open and darted into the hallway, then broke into a dead run. She disappeared before Jenkins even reached the door and ran through it.
"COLONEL BAIRD!" he roared after the sound of her retreating footsteps, but he knew it was too late. He would never see that painting again. Bitterly cursing his stupidity, he stalked back into his lab and over to the workbench, dropped onto the stool. He propped his elbows on the bench and buried his face in his hands for a moment, then roughly scrubbed them over his face and through his hair in agitation and frowned.
"She's lucky that I care about her so much!" he grumbled aloud and picked up a goose quill pen. He shook the implement in the air toward the dingy ceiling of the lab for emphasis as he continued irritably, tilting his head back to glare upward.
"Because if I didn't, I would be very busy right now planning a way to strangle her to death and make it look like an accident!" In answer there was a long, soft creak from far overhead.
"Humph!" Jenkins snorted, "That's easy for you to say!" With a scowl, the Caretaker lowered his head and returned his attention back to his work, muttering several hair-raising but ultimately empty threats as to what he would do to Eve Baird if she ever tried to blackmail him with the portrait of Librarian Jenkins.