The Brotherhood of The Black Rats

2.12 Spell Thieves

12| Spell Thieves

The square was cast in a sunless November-grey the afternoon the Cadbury Twins cut across the lawn at Bryant Park. They made their way weaving in and out of the paths of the Mundane loiters who currently inhabited the public section as they went. 

“The nerve of Simon,” began Calvin to his brother. “Giving us a love potion like that.” 

“As if I would need something like that,” agreed his brother Colin.

“We ought to smash his precious potion bottles against the pavement there and be done with it,” stated Calvin, taking the small glass vial from the pocket of his navy blue pea coat. “What does he take us for...creeps?” the boy asked as wound up for the throw. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said an invisible voice above them. 

“And why’s that?” asked Calvin steadying his arm. “You don’t actually want us to drink them do you, Doc?”

“Never!” said Doc sharply. “However, I happen to know Simon spent a great deal of time getting the contents of those vials just right.” 

“He can drink them then,” stated Colin. “What’s your point?” 

“My point, young Cadburys…” began the bodiless voice as the boys paused to listen, “…is that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” 

“What does that even mean?” asked Calvin.

“It means we should sell them,” said Colin, suddenly turning the small vial over in his hands to examine the contents. “Right Doc?” 

“Right,” said the voice. “Simon’s a noted alchemist in the right circles, but he rarely peddles his wares. Sooo….” 

“So some poor sap would probably pay a pretty penny for this stuff huh?” said Calvin, examining his own bottle of pheromone enhancer.  

 “Just hold on to them for now, boys,” said Doc. “Trust me.”

“Alright,” said Colin, placing the potion back in his coat. “After we’re through here, we’ll go to St. Marks and see what these little gems will fetch.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Calvin chimed as the pair of lion statues came into view. “You remember how to get in, don’t you?” 

“Of course,” said Colin. “I’ve got our Student IDs right here,” he added, holding up a pair of ID badges with his face printed upon them. 

“Well then,” said Calvin. “What are we waiting for?”   

The Secret College is the premier school of magic in the State of New York and one of the oldest in the country. Established by the Belvedere Court in the year 1777, it has grown to host multiple campuses and sub-schools around the isle of Manhattan over its many years. Each one is found among the 13 floors of some of the city’s tallest buildings. Save of course, its massive library. 

The Library of Lost Texts, as it’s come to be known after acquiring the largest collection of Alexandrian knowledge anywhere in the world, is, in fact, an invisible extension of the very public Steven R. Swartzman building located at Bryant Park and Forty Second Street. To find it, all one needs to do is locate the right portrait in the great marble hall and step through. Although, it is worth noting that many who enter its book-laden corridors are often never heard from again. 

In her spare time, Alice Wong attends a work-study program in the library’s search and rescue department. It’s her job to help find those unfortunate witches and wizards who go missing among the endless columns of enchanted books and microfilms whether they want to be found or not. Along with, of course, ensuring a quiet and studious atmosphere is kept in place at all times. Each member of the search and rescue department is tasked with patrolling certain corridors of the library during their shift.