Episode 8: For the Ring, Chapter 1

The atmosphere in the Library was intense. Not just because not one but two groups had been attacked on their last mission, and at more or less the same time. Nor was it simply because it now appeared that Cassandra could, if close enough to an item of great magical power, use that power to move objects around the room. It wasn't even due to the sinister and worrisome message they had translated from the runic inscriptions on the ancient stone they had collected. The one they had not expected to find. It was a combination of all these factors, it is true, but it was also, and mostly, the effect of the ongoing argument between Flynn, Leonardo and Jenkins on the correct positioning of the Stone of Destiny in the Library.

Flynn had suggested that, being a Scottish historical item, the stone should be displayed with other Scottish historical items, such as Malvina's sprig of white heather.

Leonardo had argued that, being a Celtic regal item, it should be kept with other Celtic regal items, such as King Arthur's crown.

Jenkins had made the point that, being originally a Biblical item, namely the stone Jacob used as his pillow when he saw the ladder of angels, it should be placed with other Biblical items, such as the Arc of the Covenant and the Spear of Destiny.

Eve was currently attempting to play peacemaker and listen to all three cases at once. Stone, Jones and Cassandra were watching from the safety of a nearby bookshelf.

"I am so glad I'm just a 'Junior' Librarian," breathed Jones, settling himself against the end of the shelving unit next to the other two. "I don't even have to try and make a suggestion: they all outrank me."

"I'm with Jenkins on this one," opined Cassandra, sipping the mug of coffee the thief had just brought her. "The origins of the stone are surely the most important."

"If we went with everything's origins," pointed out Stone, "the Spear of Destiny would be over with the Roman relics just because it happened to be a Roman who wielded it. It's what makes the thing magical we ought to go by. It was the seat of kings during their coronation. That's the important part."

"At the end of it's time, maybe," countered his girlfriend. "It would never have been used in that way had it not already been important because of its use as an altar by Saint Columba, which also never would have happened had the stone not been passed to him as one of great power because of its origins."

"There is nothing to say it was magical then," he retorted. "It could have just been a sacred item, like an old Bible or something."

"You know we have the original Gutenberg one in here, somewhere," interposed Jones.

"Jacob saw visions when he slept on the stone. So did Columba," Cassandra pointed out.

"It is most famous for being the coronation seat of kings," Stone protested.

"A sizeable proportion of the items in here are not famous at all," mused Jones.

"Whose side are you on?" Stone complained.

Jones and Cassandra clinked their coffee mugs. Stone huffed out a petulant sigh.

"Aw," Cassandra laughed. "Admit it: half the reason you're siding for the Regal argument is because it's da Vinci's idea."

Stone grumbled wordlessly into his coffee and let the matter rest. The trio watched the entertainment with interest. Despite being well in with the judge, it was clear that Flynn was losing.

"Of course, you know why Flynn's not going to win this one," muttered Stone, still sulking. "Nearly all the Scottish magical artefacts are held at Dunvegan, with Jenkins' witchy friends."

"Witchy?" Cassandra frowned.

"Cailleach is Gaelic for 'old woman'," he explained. "In the context of three women of suitable age, though, it refers to the eldest witch of the traditional coven of three: the crone. Baird spent most of her time talking to the crone and the mother, while Romeo over there was chatting up the maiden."

"She's not a witch, she's an angel," corrected Ezekiel, gazing starry-eyed at nothing.

"Did you have to?" Cassandra sighed quietly. "I am running out of distractions to give him! If I have to send him for any more coffee I think I'll be awake for a week!"

"He started it," muttered Stone.

"No, you just don't like losing," Cassandra reminded him.

"She just stood there, surrounded by this glow, like gold," murmured Ezekiel. "It was like the light was coming from inside her. Nobody could lay a finger on her. They just rebounded off the glow. She never took her eyes off me for a moment. Didn't say anything. Didn't wave or anything. Just stood there, smiling at me, in the middle of this bubble of gold light. Then it was all over. The old one opened a door that wasn't there, and told us to go. She raised a hand to wave then, but that was all. And then she just disappeared."

"Like I said," commented Stone. "Witch."

"Angel," maintained Ezekiel.

"No wings," muttered Stone.

"No spells," retorted Ezekiel.

"That you heard," taunted Stone.

"Why would being a witch be a bad thing, again?" Cassandra piped up.

Silence.

"Good answer, boys," she smirked.

Stone and Jones watched the redhead saunter over to the makeshift courtroom and whisper in Eve's ear.

"Er, we are not her boys," Jones commented.

"Yeah we are," replied Stone automatically.

"Yeah," repeated Jones, with a smug grin, "we are."

Stone frowned in confusion as Jones headed over to join the group. Then the penny dropped. "Hey! I am never watching those DVDs with you again!"

By the time Eve Baird called a halt to the arguments, she already had a headache. No matter how much she loved Flynn, or how eloquent da Vinci managed to be, Jenkins' case held the most merit. Eventually she had to put her foot down and threaten to reallocate all Leonardo's pieces by where they gained the most notoriety rather than their creation by him. The old artist grumbled about it, but yielded to her final judgement. She sent the two main plaintiffs off to find and prepare a suitable spot in the Biblical section.

"Now, what have you three managed to find out about our other acquisition?" Baird demanded of the trio that had gradually snuck up behind her. "Cassandra mentioned you had something."

"Romeo here spotted something with his ghost goggles," grumbled Stone.

"Do you want me to come up with a nickname for you?" Jones protested. "Because we both know: my nicknames stick around, and I'm not the guy who can't let his girl out of his sight for more than a minute."

"Hey, I wasn't the one who dragged her into unstable, haunted caves and nearly had a run in with the guy who had just tried to shoot her!" Stone countered.

"Gentlemen!" Baird yelled. "I have just dealt with one set of arguing Librarians, current and retired, and I am in no mood to play referee to the next generation's childish squabbles. Either tell me what you found or show me, but do not, I repeat do not, make my headache any worse!"

"Walk this way, your highness," grinned Jones, with a bow and an arm outstretched in the direction of the office. Eve glared. "Ma'am?" Jones corrected himself tentatively. The glare continued. "Colonel Baird."

Sharing a quick smile with Cassandra, Baird led the way back through to the office, Cassandra by her side and the three men following. The rune stone was lying flat on the central desk. Jones hurried round to where his goggles lay and passed them to Baird. She put them on. Sure enough, the faint tracery of other runes criss-crossed the stone, like the indentations of a hundred pens on the leather of a hotel reception desk.

"Any idea what they say?" Baird asked, passing the goggles to Flynn.

"I can make out a few isolated runes," said Stone. "But I can't get enough of them together to make a translation."

"What about using Cassandra's synaesthesia to separate the layers?" Flynn enquired.

"Layers?" Baird looked round at her fiancé.

"It's a palimpsest," shrugged Flynn, holding the goggles out to Cassandra. "One set of runes carved in, then chiselled off to make way for the next set."

"Last time we dealt with a palimpsest," sighed Baird, "Stone got possessed the minute he touched it and we didn't have a clue until... Until much later."

"Until he snogged Cassandra when the two of them were only just getting back on speaking terms from the last time they got whammied and she snogged him," supplied Ezekiel. "But no, they didn't have feelings for each other then. No not at all!"

"It was complicated," muttered Cassandra.

"Not everyone falls head over heels at the drop of a hat," protested Stone at the same time.

"Oh, the Shakespeare's Quill thing. I remember," nodded Flynn. "And you told me about the book and Freyja's necklace too. No, I don't think this is anything like that. That palimpsest was made by magic especially for the purpose of tricking one of us. We never did find out who though, did we?"

Baird and her three charges shook their heads. "It was very vexing," she smiled.

"No," continued Flynn, returning her smile. "This is just an ordinary palimpsest, I believe. Over the centuries it has been used as a sort of runic billboard. One message is replaced with another and the faint tracery of the previous message is left. It might have something to do with the action of the percussive force during the engraving process perhaps altering the orientations of certain crystals or magnetic fields deep within the rock that are then picked up by the supersensitive filters in the goggles and processed as a part of the ordinary visible section of the electromagnetic spectrum thereby allowing the wearer to see the imprints of previous messages."

"And breathe," smiled Eve. She looked at Cassandra. "Please tell me you understood that?"

Cassandra nodded. "I got it. I'll have a go, but I might not be able to use the synaesthesia with the goggles. Or, at least, not clearly. Too much interference."

She fixed the goggles on her head and looked down. The first thing to stand out, bright and clear, were the runes that they could all see, goggles or no goggles, on the stone's surface. Almost immediately, other lines began filling up Cassandra's vision, like sets of lights that illuminated consecutively with a microsecond delay in between. When the stone tablet seemed full, and no new lines were being added, she closed her eyes and took the goggles off.

"Give me my notepad," Cassandra commanded, holding out a hand with her eyes closed. The book, with a mechanical pencil, was placed in her hand. "Now don't distract me."

She opened the notepad to her marker, which was always kept at the next blank page for ease of use, and looked down. On that page she copied the first runic inscription. She turned the page and copied the next. Then the next. And the next. Stone, Jones, Flynn and Baird looked on in silence as page after page turned and layer after layer was copied. She had nearly finished the book by the time she stopped writing. The pencil ceased its movement. Cassandra looked up and blinked. She handed the notebook and pencil to Stone.

"Can you translate it?" Cassandra asked, looking over at him with nervous eyes. "Does it make sense?"

Stone flicked through the first through pages. "Yeah, it makes sense," he nodded. "At least as much as the first one, or last one I guess, does. It'll take me a while to get them all done though."

"You work on that then," said Baird. "Da Vinci can help out with the technical side of things when he gets back. Jones, Cassandra, Flynn: you're with me up in the mezzanine. I want to know how that stone ended up in that old well."

An urgent flapping sounded behind Baird. She closed her eyes.

"Looks like we have a case," began Jones. "I guess I should just..."

"Hold it!" Baird hooked a finger in the thief's collar. "Check your book. Is it in there? No? Didn't think so. When it's a case for you, your book has a glowy fit. When it's a case for Cassandra, her book has a panic attack. When it's a case for Stone, his book buzzes. When that book gets into a flap about anything these days, it's for the one Librarian left that doesn't have a personal magical pager of their very own. Let Flynn take it. I'll help out. You and Cassandra go get researching! You can grab Jenkins to help out when he comes back, if you need to."

Jones, visibly deflated, huffed and turned on his heel even as Flynn bounced past to peer into the book. Baird watched Cassandra link arms with the young man and lead him up the stairs to the mezzanine shelves. She turned to Flynn. He was pouring over the page with interest. She joined him and looked over his shoulder, her arms wrapping around him from behind. He turned his head to kiss her cheek, but she was sure his eyes never left the page.

"What have we got, Librarian?" Eve murmured.

"Pack warm, Guardian," replied Flynn. "We're off to Norway again. The body of a winged man has just been discovered in a glacier there."