To my guest reviewer: Thank you.

Well, it's that time folks. This is the last episode. Time for the wedding. There will be an afterword at the end of all this with references, Easter eggs, the riddles in their original form and any other oddities I remember. Let me know if there is anything else you'd like in there. I'm not planning on including the character arc descriptions as those arcs will be continuing into season three.

Episode 10: For The Perfect Day, Chapter 1

The new year had dawned peacefully for the Librarians, all asleep in the rooms the Library had provided for them. Even Jenkins and da Vinci made it through breakfast without arguing. The clippings book was quiet. No new earthquakes or tsunamis were reported on the news. The world was turning just as always. When they checked in at Gamla Uppsala, they found the dig had been finished off and closed up long before. Wilkins had disappeared entirely. The university said he had taken a sabbatical. Even Jones could find no trace of him. The days passed without incident. The cases that came up were minor, easily handled. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. In the quiet of those intervening months, they retrieved the rest of the crates from the warehouse. They even emptied the vault. Jones had been so impressed with it, he began designing one for the Library.

April arrived and still no more had been heard of the Serpent Brotherhood, Wilkins, the hooded figure, or their plan. With the wedding less than a week away, the office began buzzing with activity once more, but not of the magical kind. Flynn and Eve were arguing over the seating plan, Jones was trying to persuade Stone to tell him what he had planned for the stag night, and Jenkins was arguing with da Vinci over the possibility of visiting Dunvegan. For some reason, Jenkins was dead set against it. Cassandra was standing above them all, looking down from the mezzanine balcony, watching the lines of magical radiance rippling through the air. Flynn had allowed her to practise that new development as she liked. She could see their auras now, to some degree. Not in the traditional sense, not with different colours, but she could tell they were there. The stronger the magic, the brighter the aura. It was a glow, like the magic in the air around her, that permeated every aspect of the Library. She had expected Flynn to be the brightest, but he wasn't. When she thought about it, though, it was logical that Jenkins should have the brightest glow. He had been in contact with magic the longest, by a long way. Flynn was next, then da Vinci. She couldn't see herself. The boys were fairly similar. Baird only had a faint aura. She would have to ask Flynn, or maybe Jenkins, why that was. Maybe it was her position as Guardian. Maybe it was just that the rest of them had been affected by magic more through their own carelessness. She was the tactician of the group, after all.

An object on the central desk exploded into Cassandra's vision brighter than any of the people in the room, and even brighter than some of the artefacts. She turned off her synaesthetic vision and the blue glows of the books, artefacts and people all disappeared. The item that had caught her attention was the clippings book. It hadn't moved, simply glowed, and everyone else was so engrossed that they hadn't noticed it. Usually when the book had something to show them, it found a way of making itself noticed. Had it known she was watching it? That she would see the glow so much more brightly than everyone else? She given up trying to work out just how sentient the Library was, and the clippings book was surely an extension of the Library itself. She hurried down the stairs. The light might have been meant for her, but if the case was for her alone, her own book would have been the one to flap madly until she checked it. It hadn't. This was a case for all of them. That meant it was serious.

"Clippings book!" Cassandra called as she skipped to a halt in front of the item in question. "New case!"

Jones was at her side immediately, peering down at the page. Stone joined her on her other side with a kiss on the cheek and an arm around her waist. Flynn and Eve's argument dithered to a halt with promises on both sides that it wasn't over, Flynn bounding over and Eve leaning back against their desk. Jenkins took the opportunity to end his argument with da Vinci with a stern "and that's final" and a switch of focus to the growing group around the book.

"Well," he sighed, folding his arms and refusing to try and force his way into the huddle of Librarians all scrutinising the page. "Will one of you please tell us all what it says?"

"Ooh, this is bad," murmured Flynn. "Very, very bad."

"What?" Baird snapped. "Is it the Serpent Brotherhood again? Have they found some other Loki talisman?"

"No, nothing like that," her fiancé assured her. "It's something just as bad, though, or possibly worse."

"What's worse than the end of the world, Flynn?" Baird asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Police have issued a warning following the discovery of several bodies, all of which appear to have been mauled and eaten by some kind of wild animal. Cause of death is still said to be unclear, but they have stated that they are not looking for anyone else in association with the deaths," summarised Stone. "Definitely don't sound good to me."

"Okay, so we have a monster to hunt," shrugged Baird. "A dangerous one. We've done it before. We'll do it again. What's so bad about that that it tops the end of the world?"

"Honey, you may want to prepare yourself," said Flynn, turning to face her with worried eyes. "Just remember, it's not the most important thing about the day."

Baird looked sideways at him, her eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms. "Okay, Librarian. Spill it."

"You know that hotel out in the countryside just outside Portland?" Flynn began, treading very carefully.

"The one we've booked for the reception?" Baird's eyebrows rose and her jaw set.

"It's where they found the bodies," continued Stone.

"Guests?" Baird asked, her voice tight.

"Kitchen staff," finished Cassandra, flinching as if she expected projectiles from the Bride's direction.

"The head chef I booked for the catering?" Baird asked, eyes closed now.

"Missing," supplied Jones. "Presumed deceased."

The Colonel turned away, placing both fists on the desk she had been leaning against. She breathed in deeply through her nose, and out through her mouth. When she next spoke, her words were steady and calm. As calm as water behind a dam. "Flynn, what is it?"

"Looking at the evidence," he ventured, "I'd say it was a wendigo or one of its relatives. There are quite a few. The jenu, the atshen, the kee-wakw. My personal favourite is the baykok, but it only eats the livers of its prey. Or the Mogollon monster, although it decapitates its prey and none of the bodies were decapitated. Or there's the kushtaka, of course, but they're usually found in Alaskan waters. They're shape shifters that are usually either otter or human, but can take other shapes as well. The wechuge is another possibility. Very similar to the wendigo, but associated with the Athebaskan people, some of whom still live in Siletz, south of here."

"Does that make the local option our front runner then?" Baird enquired, her voice the model of supreme patience.

"It makes it a starting point for investigation," pointed out Jenkins. "Until somebody goes and examines those bodies, finds out for certain if any livers or heads or other body parts are missing, maybe gets some more information on the circumstances and the crime scene, we cannot be certain of anything."

"We can be certain of one thing," chipped in Jones. "Contradict me if you like, but I'm certain I don't want to meet this thing, whatever it is, on a dark and stormy night without any idea of how to kill it!"

"All the more reason to identify it," pointed out Cassandra.

"Very well," Jenkins raised a hand. "Might I suggest that Miss Cillian and Mr Jones examine the bodies. I know, Ezekiel, you may prefer to view the crime scene itself, but there's no guarantee the local constabulary will allow Miss Cillian entrance to the morgue. You may have to provide it instead. Colonel Baird, perhaps you should sit this one out. Mr Carsen, Mr Stone and myself will examine the crime scene and interview the locals."

"Jenkins," intoned Colonel Baird fastidiously, "there is a man eating monster roaming around the planned site of my wedding reception, working its way through my carefully chosen catering staff. Do you think for one minute I am going to sit back and allow my fiancé and his genius buddies to add themselves to this thing's menu without going with them? We may not know how to kill it but I'm still willing to bet it won't like being shot at, and I'm the only one of you with a firearm. I will go with Flynn and Stone. You stay here, with your new, or old, best bud, and get researching those monsters."

XXXX

"This is not a good idea," muttered Jones. "Whatever happened to don't antagonise local law enforcement?"

"You were perfectly happy to break into the forensics lab in Prague," hissed Cassandra. They were tucked out of sight behind the corner of the building across the street.

"I have seen some of these guys in my favourite restaurants," he complained.

"Favourite fast food restaurants," Cassandra corrected.

"I sometimes have the pasta!" Jones replied indignantly. "And pizza, with the right toppings, can be a balanced meal with all four food groups."

"The tomato and onion sauce for the vegetables, the pepperoni for the protein, the base for the carbs," she listed. "Where does the cheese fit again?"

"I'm a growing boy," he protested. "I need to keep my energy levels up."

"Uh-huh," Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "And what do your energy levels tell you about breaking into the morgue before they have a new addition?"

"We need a cover," he said. "In case we bump into anyone. Especially anyone we might have to talk to later properly!"

"Just use the usual. It tends to work," Cassandra sighed. "Come on."

Wincing and reluctant, Jones followed her across the road. They arrived at the door without incident. An app on Jones' phone kept the cameras away from them while he electronically picked the lock and let them in. They found themselves in a grey hallway lit by ageing fluorescent light bulbs. Doors flanked them to the left and right. At the end of the corridor, there was a T-junction, identical corridors extending in opposite directions.

"Toss a coin for it?" Jones suggested, looking at the two unlabelled corridors.

Cassandra, who had been looking down, looked up at this and rolled her eyes. She took his arm and dragged him down the left corridor. "Or we could just follow the gurney tracks."

XXXX

Colonel Eve Baird marched up to the officer on duty in front of the taped off kitchen door. Flynn and Stone followed tentatively behind her. When they left the annex building, the keys to Jenkins' buick in Baird's hand, neither man had thought it wise to comment on the speed of the Colonel's driving, nor the cacophony of startled and enraged car horns dopplering into whines as they passed them.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, this area is off limits to the public," reported the unfortunate officer.

"NATO Counter Terrorism," barked Baird, flashing her badge at him. "Move or be moved."

Something in her tone or eyes had warned the hapless young man that the former was the better option for all concerned. He saluted and stepped aside. He stepped back automatically as she passed. Flynn and Stone came to a halt in front of the pale figure.

"They're with me," came the shout from within. The officer moved aside again. Stone noted that he looked somewhat relieved to have them there, if only to shout orders at him.

Inside the kitchen, the lighting was dull. The windows were shuttered against nosey reporters or civilians. Some of the lights above flickered, others were dead entirely. A shout from Baird brought the two men over to a bloodstained corner. Kitchen utensils were scattered over the floor, their positions carefully tagged and undoubtedly photographed. Flynn took a few photographs of his own for reference later. For Eve's reference. For himself, he merely added the view to the list of those he wished he'd never seen.

Stone crouched down by an oddly shaped pool of blood. "Looks like there was a knife here," he said, pointing at the gap in the dark red. "There's some hair fibres trapped in the hinge of the cupboard too."

"Police will have the knife," murmured Baird, scanning the area. "They've probably got a sample of the hair too, but at least they left us some."

Stone took the plastic bag she handed him, and the tweezers, and fished a few hairs out of the hinge and into the bag. "At least we won't have to get Jones to steal their evidence."

"Don't bet on it," frowned Flynn. "Ordinary people are usually fairly good at avoiding the magical. If there's something happening that they know cannot possibly be happening, they usually tend not to see it. Nice, solid evidence, like monster hair, though. That's something I don't see the cops ignoring. And we'll probably need some blood too, just to double check identities."

"If there's monster blood in this lot, I can't tell it apart," shrugged Stone. "Can you?"

"No," admitted Flynn, tugging at his chin. "But I know a man who can."