Page 69 of Fatality on the Field

I’m not here for the Bowl stuff, obviously. My journey to About Tome is because putting a book order in through the Daybreak Court’s library directly will allow the wrong person to see what I’m researching. Instead, I’m waiting patiently, counting the minutes until the hybrid demi-owl shifter who runs the place arrives. I’m on minute nineteen when she appears in a snowy-breathed huff, her gaze set to stun as she sees me by the door.

It’s not personal—the woman doesn’t know me, only Kas—but I believe she’s irritated that someone is waiting at the door this early.

My bodyguard told me that Phaedra was small, but not in the sense of a pixie or a child—she’s got a bird’s build on a human frame. Her hair is in a tight braid threaded with pale tawny feathers, and her coat is one of those boiled-wool jobs that makes her look like she’s stepped out of a British mystery. Her boots make no sound as she walks up the steps and fiddles with her bags to get her jingling key ring out to unlock the place.

As it opens, the woman gives me a look—not a smile, but not unfriendly either—and then flips the sign on the door. The owl in her is all over her posture as she looks at me; her head is cocked a few degrees left, eyes flat and unmoving, and if I weren’t at least two feet taller than her, I think she might consider eating me for breakfast. I stay still, not wanting the other more volatile side of her to decide it’s angry at me, too.

“You’re here early,” she grumbles. “Usually I can get here right at opening and not see a soul until eleven on a winter weekday.”

“I have a full schedule today. I apologize for making you feel rushed,” I say in a placating tone. “However, my requests are of a… sensitive nature and I did not wish to use the library. I’ve been told you are one of the best kept resources on campus when it comes to books.”

A little ego-stroking can only help, right?

Phaedra gives me a small, sideways smile filled with sharp teeth. I fear she’s got my number, but she stands aside so I can enter first. The cold outside is instantly replaced by the dusty warmth and scents of a bookstore. I pause, just for a second, to let the atmosphere soak in. For all the shittiness of this world, I will never get tired of coming to places where a premium is placed on knowledge and thought. Libraries, museums, classrooms, bookstores… places that cater to those who want to learn have always been a refuge for me, especially when Alwyn was on a tear.

“You’re here for an order?” The owner asks as she slides behind the counter with a birdlike hop. She doesn’t sit as she gets comfortable—she perches, which is somehow both hilarious and a little terrifying. “Wouldn’t you be better served to request it through the Daybreak Court, Your Highness?”

“No,” I say, arching a brow at her sharp-as-fuck eye for detail. “I want it handled through your back channel so it doesn’t go through public channels such as that. There’s a paper I’m researching for and I want access to books that might… upset those who are more paranoid than they are judicious.”

That makes her look at me more closely. Her pupils narrow and the tawny feather at her temple flutters with some micro-expression I can’t parse. For all the metaphors I might use, actual avians are not an area of expertise. Shuffling some papers on the counter, I wait until Phaedra finds what she’s looking for. She writes something on a piece of paper in what I think is Greek and then sighs.

“I will help you,” she says carefully. “But you should know that when I obtain books from across The Veil, it takes longer and they are subject to rejection by the Court archivists for any reason they deem applicable. If your topics are controversial, they could simply refuse to supply them.”

I lean on the counter casually, giving her a genuine smile. “I know that, but I’m not actually looking at that kind of stuff. However, if the request came from me for this project? The Court would make the books disappear entirely just in case. Being who I am has drawbacks at times, too, contrary to popular opinions.”

Phaedra shrugs, but the way it carries through her whole body says she knows the game, has played it before, and is not afraid of it. “Write down the list and I will do my best to get them as quickly as possible. I may use a proxy for retrieval to expedite the process, but they will only know that my store wants the books, not that you have ordered them.”

I take the pen, writing down titles that contain lineage histories, Fae bloodline charts, pre-Accord case studies, and a handful of cross-Veil mythological texts that might help me settle some thoughts. The demi-goddess watches me write, tapping the keyboard on her computer to enter each item with her nails clicking on the keys loudly. By the time I stop, she’s got an order form generated on her screen, complete with totals and possible availability time frames.

“This is a big request,” she says when I don’t even flinch. “Will you be paying upfront?”

I slide my card across the counter, the sigils on it representing both my family and the Court. They won’t question me spending a bunch of money at a bookstore; it’s hardly the first time. But I need Phaedra to ensure that the contents of that purchase are kept private, so I say, “This should cover it, but I do not want anyone to be given the information about what I ordered. It will make my father think I’m trying to plan a fucking coup or something.”

She blinks slowly as she frowns. “Sounds as if he knows that he should be dethroned. I’ve seen that back home. It makes them act even crazier, when they think the heirs are plotting.”

“No shit,” I reply ruefully. “Mad men and women are predictable in their unpredictability in all realms, it seems.”

Nodding as she runs my card, Phaedra sighs. It goes through and she slips it back to me quickly. “Avoiding wars and crazy shit is all the rest of us do because of that. I assume you are doing something as such, yes? You’re the third person from your little group who has come to me for assistance in a month, Prince Liam.”

Now how the fuck did she do that?

The bookseller just stands there, waiting for me to respond as she smiles craftily. I let the silence hang in the air for a moment, and then decide to go for it. “Yeah, something like that. Dean LeCiel and my guard came for other reasons, but it is all connected. I’m hoping to prevent more incidents like the ones in the rink and the theater earlier in the year.”

Her eyebrows raise and she nods. “That is quite a noble goal. I will be honored to be part of your efforts to keep the students on campus safe. Hallowed halls of learning should never be unsafe for those who seek truth and knowledge. Those events have made my patroness and mother goddess very sad indeed.”

The door bell rings and I watch a tired-looking student stride straight into the shelves without so much as a greeting to either of us. It makes both of us shake our heads, but once he’s far enough away, I shrug at her. Perhaps she and I are too old for the college kids now, considering their complete lack of social graces with those around them. Phaedra harrumphs grumpily as she hands over my receipt and I tuck it away.

As I’m doing so, I remember something important that has slipped our minds with all the drama. “There’s another thing I should ask you about. You might have gotten a request from the Dean’s office for books from this realm for a hybrid student at a university in Hell. The email is legit and Morgana definitely wants you to assist her friend with whatever she needs. You can bill it to me as well.”

Phaedra’s head tilts farther as she studies me curiously. “The Dean has a friend who is a student in Hell? How delightfully unusual. I did see the email, but had not gotten around to contacting her yet. I will send her friend everything as soon as I get it in. That, too, requires an intermediary for transport and delivery—it’s not cheap.”

“That’s not a concern; I promise.” I wink at the woman and she snorts. “The student and his…. family… are connected to our cause. We need to help them as much as possible if we want to avoid bad things.”

“Understood. I have cousins who live in that realm, so delivery will not be difficult, just expensive. Is there anything else I can do?” Her eyes cut to the shelves where the student disappeared and I realize she’s concerned about the quiet from that part of the store.

Her suspicion makes me pause. “No, I think you’ve got everything. Contact us when it is time to pick up my order, please.”

She nods, already tapping out a note on the machine. “I will. Have a nice day… and good luck, Liam.”