The Elementals : The Dawn of Darkness

Chapter 13- I Love the Smell of Books and Burnt Flesh in the Morning

"This is useless!" I yelled loudly in frustration. "Utterly completely totally use–"

"SHHHHHHH!"

I scowled at the sour faced librarian who was making sure that I could see her evil side eye from behind the mountain of books I was taking up most of my view. I swear to whatever deity was listening at this current moment in time if she told me 'Shhh!' one more time I was going to set fire to her flowery bloomers. She looked at the two of us suspiciously, sparing a final glance at me that probably read my violent thought, before hobbling away on her old legs. I then mimed repeatedly banging my head on the scuffed table that had been my reading partner for the last six hours. I caught Shadow's eye roll. I couldn't care at this point.

My theory about the long day had been semi accurate as it had got a bit out of hand. It was now the day after, midday specifically and all three of us were no closer to finding out any information about the castle I had seen in my vision. We had been here all day yesterday and Sheira had rolled (Not a joke) me out of bed at five in the morning so we could be there bright and early. I may have muttered a few words that wouldn't have been suitable in this little town this bright and early but would have been perfectly acceptable after a Saturday night in London.

Yesterday's research hadn't started well because the librarian instantly identified us as trash. I could see her perspective on the whole situation though. She was a woman living in comfortable retirement, judging by her curled grey hair and gnarled little hands, who was clearly well off as seen by her fashionable clothes and the bulky Mulberry handbag. She was clearly enjoying her work, it was peaceful, relaxing as she dealt with old timers, families with kids and the regulars who came in for a gossip on a regular basis.

Enter us three. Two sixteen-year olds, one of whom is still looking a little worse for wear, and a surly twenty something who is set to scowl as a default was something this well-groomed old lady was wanting. Add to that the fact that Sheira and Shadow had started another argument and I was threatening to bash their heads together as we walked in the door meant we didn't give off the best first impression. At least Sheira and I attempted a friendly introduction, minding our manners and being as polite as possible asking for 'where can we find the books on castles and medieval history?'. Shadow was still sulking from earlier. Our friendliness didn't matter one jot however as she clearly wanted us out ASAP.

That sadly didn't happen though as she had to kick us out when they closed up, after a fair bit of disruption and destruction had taken place. Then we had to witness the horror on her face when we showed up first thing the next morning. It wasn't our fault it was taking so long though as we'd run into a slight problem. The castle, well how do you put this, DIDN'T EXIST!

We had checked everything, and I mean everything. Medieval history, British history, Scottish history, British architecture through the years, castle books (So many castle books...), Scottish historical sites, places of warfare (Because apparently Molly liked setting up shop in places with a violent history), Scottish monarchs, Edinburgh history, the Scottish landscape and all of it had amounted to nothing. Utterly nothing.

I was about to wonder how Sheira was getting on when the woman herself appeared and she was looking as defeated as the rest of us. She carried the same bored and tired expression that was mirrored by the two of us who at least had had access to natural sunshine. That was partly the reason when Sheira seemed to be turning grey. Her skin was coated with grey freckles, and her hair had a fine layer of the stuff sat on top of her head like a hat. Her clothes were filthy, and the tips of her fingers were smudged with a dark brown/grey. Its amazing how the human body can act as a dust magnet the moment you enter a dingy underground room.

She stretched once she'd entered the privacy of our little alcove, the joints in her back popping as she eased the tension from her shoulders (I need a massage after this. And a holiday. A Spa holiday). "How you guys doing? Any luck?" We both grunted in agreement. Sheira sighed, "is this seat taken?" She pointed at the seat between the two of us which was holding a pile of books that probably shouldn't be sat on such an unstable object.