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“To be honest, it was the only thing in my suitcase that wasn’t wrinkled.” Fern snorted, and both women laughed. For the first time since she got off the plane, Fern thought that this position might not be terrible.
Okay, maybe I’m not here to make friends, but it wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.
Mara took it upon herself to fill most of the silence between them as they walked, filling Fern in on the department. She appreciated the intel and didn’t have to force herself to make conversation. It had always been easier for Fern on the outside looking in. The surrogate-parent at sporting events, cheering from the sidelines. The helpful project partner who would prepare slides if she didn’t have to present them. It was one reason she was so pulled towards academia—Fern much preferred books to people.
As they rounded the end of Fern’s street, the rest of campus appeared. Fern had to keep herself from gasping out loud. The interior courtyard of Old College was in view, with its two-story columned building standing like a beacon of education. The main entrance had a taller domed ceiling with massive paneled glass windows underneath it. Several staircases sloped down from different doorways to the grassy courtyard, where a few students milled about. Some stones had turned black from age and weather while placards dotted the walls—no doubt commemorating random places of historical interest throughout the lawn.
“Oh my god,” Fern sounded almost giddy. “It looks like…”
“If you say Hogwarts, I swear, I will go on without you,” Mara scoffed playfully.
“Hey,” Fern whined, turning towards her. “It’s not my fault that every building looks like that.”
“It’s not every building,” Mara rolled her eyes and kept walking, “You’re just an American millennial, so of course, that’s the only comparison that you can make.”
“Note to self, do not mention.” Fern tsked, picking up her pace to follow Mara. When she caught up to her, Mara looped her arm through Fern’s.
“Nonsense,” she winked. “For the record, I’m a Ravenclaw.”
Fern smiled. “Slytherin.”
“Excellent.” Mara sounded almost conspiratorial. “Anyone who says they’re a Gryffindor is so boring.”
Fern followed Mara up the steps of the Old College, through a long hallway with shining lacquered wood floors. The air smelled like printer ink and books, and the last of Fern’s anxieties slipped away. As much as she didn’t want to be in the city, universities, at their core, were always the same. Mara led her down a side corridor, walking past the entrance to the anthropology department. She gave a little wave to the secretary, who notably didn’t look up from her computer, and they disappeared down yet another hallway.
The walls seemed to close in on them, the hallways getting smaller and smaller as they got farther into the maze of offices. Names stopped appearing on doorways, and some rooms seemed abandoned.
Finally, when Fern was about to ask if Mara had brought her there to murder her, they arrived at a massive oak door with stained glass windows. There was a small brass plaque that read:
Office of Highland Magic: People and Relics,
Evil and Benign
Dept. Head: Dr. Calum Welsh, est. 1952
Fern couldn’t believe what she was reading. She went over it several times, assuming the ‘established’ date was referring to the department, not the beginning of Dr. Welsh’s tenure. Mara seemed to read Fern’s thoughts as she leaned against the doorjamb.
“Welcome,” she smiled, “to the Office of Highland Magic.”
Mara turned the doorknob and pushed.
Chapter Three
Fern took a few cautious steps inside. The room was darker than the hallway, and it took her eyes a few minutes to adjust. When the room finally came into view, she was stunned. She was standing in a waiting room of sorts, with a secretary’s desk—that was empty—and several stuffed leather armchairs dotted across the floor. Multiple doorways lead to what Fern presumed were offices for the professors, lecturers, and researchers who worked in the department.
The entire room smelled like musty paper, and only a bookworm would love it. There was one massive half-circle window, covered in more stained glass. It was too high for Fern to see out of, but rays of light shone through, colored by the decorative panes. Above all else, though, were the books.
If this was supposed to be a waiting room for students or other colleagues, it hadn’t been used in a long time. There were pathways cutting through stacks and stacks of books, leaning against one another and stuffed into every nook and cranny that Fern could see.
Some towers had random objects on them—Fern immediately saw one bust and one ancient-looking globe—and others were only a few books high. There seemed to be no sense of order to the stacks either. Some volumes looked like they were older than Fern, while she spotted a new copy of The Witcher with the Netflix-adaptation on the cover design.
“Holy shit,” Fern breathed, her feet frozen to the floor.
“I know,” Mara breezed right past her, “but what can you expect from a bunch of nerds?” she commented breezily.
Fern got the idea that somehow Mara categorized herself differently than her coworkers. Fern wasn’t surprised. If Mara was really a researcher, she was the most outgoing one that Fern had ever met.
“Come on!” Mara’s chipper voice pulled Fern from her thoughts. Mara moved through the labyrinth like it was second nature, but Fern stepped carefully behind her. They went through another door, revealing a much smaller hallway of, yet again, more offices. The walls were lined with folios, filing cabinets, and books of every kind, leaving just enough room for Mara and Fern to pass through, single file. Fern could hardly see a few feet in front of her, but she heard the quiet din of more muffled voices.
