Page 76 of Heart of Mischief

“As in, dance in the moonlight,” Lou filled in. “Damn. I really thought it would have to do with that horny song from the seventies.”

Abigail laughed. She was in her element, and it made her whole face shine with joy. “Not quite.”

“Were you able to get a copy of the book?” Charlie asked. Her heart was pounding so loud she could hear it in her ears.

“Well, I called Bethany to see if the library had it in stock—”

Lou chuckled. “Only you would be on a first-name basis with the town’s head librarian.”

Abigail rolled her eyes but kept going. “—and she said no. It’s a super rare book, apparently. When she checked her system, it wasn’t in circulation at any public library in Michigan. In fact, the only copy she could locate at all was a PDF version in U of M’s database, which is behind the university paywall.”

Lou groaned.

“Shit.” Charlie sighed. “So, it’s a dead end?”

“Never underestimate my perseverance, ladies.” Abigail grinned. “Remember that private school guy I dated for a hot second last year?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Lou. “The tech whiz who kept trying to sell you different NFTs?”

“The very same. Well, I texted him asking if he knew how to get behind a database paywall, and he said,obviously.”

“Heresponded?” Lou asked. “I’m shocked. He was so butt-hurt when you dumped him.”

Abigail pursed her lips. “I may or may not have opened the conversation by hinting that I was in the market for some blockchain artwork.”

Lou and Charlie burst out laughing.

“You demon,” said Lou, grinning. “Go on.”

“Anyway. Long story short: he got me in. I found the PDF ofTunglsljós dans—a version translated into English, thankfully.And on page 57 is a poem titled… drumroll please…”

Lou and Charlie dutifully slapped whatever was closest to them—for Lou, it was the headboard, for Charlie, her desk—until Abigail said:

“Impossible but true.”

Charlie’s mouth fell open. “No way.”

“Yes way.” Abigail lowered her phone from her face, and Charlie heard the sound of her fingers tapping the screen. “I’m sending the poem to you both now.”

“Abigail Moore,” said Lou. “You are an evil genius.”

Abigail raised her phone back up to her face and beamed. “I know.”

A photo came through in their group chat. Charlie clicked the notification, and it expanded on her screen.

Impossible but True: A Poem

Burnt-orange sand,

burnt-orange sky,

bodies transparent

with years gone by.

Castle on the sea,

towers in the mist.