Chapter 162- Shelf Reflection

Morrigan followed Hilda through the dusty, abandoned house and down into the basement. Whatever furniture remained was pushed against the wa

Morrigan followed Hilda through the dusty, abandoned house and down into the basement. Whatever furniture remained was pushed against the walls. The kitchen was dusty, lacking any appliances or signs of life.

The basement stairs creaked beneath them as Hilda glanced over her shoulder and asked, “So, Morrigan, how’s the changeling been?”

“Oh, fine,” Morrigan replied, not having to lie or sugar coat anything. It actually had been more than fine recently.

“Yeah? No flare-ups since the whole getting-stabbed incident?”

“Nope, nothing like that at all. I think I’m learning to control it better.”

“Well, that’s good,” Hilda said. Morrigan couldn’t shake the feeling that Hilda was probing for something deeper. “Anyway…” Hilda flicked on a light at the bottom of the stairs.

Morrigan looked around, reminded vaguely of Arrietta’s shop. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with books, bottles filled with preserves, herbs, and mysterious liquids she could only guess at. Another shelf held an assortment of random metal trinkets and other oddities.

“So, what exactly are we looking for?” Morrigan asked.

“Honestly, not sure,” Hilda admitted. “But if there really is some secret archive hidden here, my first guess is that it’d be accessed through the basement.”

Morrigan wandered toward the shelf of random items while Hilda summoned her staff and started walking along the concrete walls, tapping any accessible spots not covered by shelving.

“So how’s the changeling seal been holding up?” Hilda asked as she examined another section of the wall.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Have you experimented with unlocking it at all?”

“Mmm… every once in a while,” Morrigan said cautiously. Hilda’s sudden interest in the changeling felt oddly intrusive. Normally, she would periodically check up on the condition of the graft, but today she seemed particularly interested.

“Emma mentioned you used it to help climb a tree,” Hilda said with a soft chuckle. “Guess that’s progress, huh?”

Oh, so that’s what this is about.

She felt the changeling ripple beneath her skin. It didn’t appreciate Hilda’s interest—and, truthfully, Morrigan felt the same, though she couldn’t pinpoint why exactly.

“Oh, yeah,” Morrigan laughed, playing it off. “It was sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing. I didn’t exactly want Emma’s mom to catch me halfway up her tree.”

“Well, I’ll take it as a good sign you are at least feeling a little more comfortable with that thing on your back.”

“Mmm, yeah. It just took some getting used to.” Morrigan was ready to steer the conversation elsewhere. “So, why are you really trying to help Alice?”

Hilda shrugged, continuing to tap the wall with her staff. “I’d do the same for anyone.”

“Yeah, but she’s… different,” Morrigan pressed. “She’s a complete psycho. Even Death would tell you she’s dangerous.”

“Mmmm… is she, though?”

“Yes!” Morrigan insisted. “Like, I’m sure she didn’t convince you to disappear into the mountains just by politely asking.”

“No, I suppose not. But she didn’t exactly hurt me, either. Sure, she might have gotten forceful if I refused, but I could tell she didn’t want it to come to that. And not just because she was afraid to fight me or something like that.”

“She was playing with Pepper’s life just to test me!”

“And ended up causing Pepper to stay alive when she was supposed to die,” Hilda pointed out.

“Well…” That was one thing Morrigan couldn’t deny, though even Alice herself admitted it was just an experiment and she didn’t actually know how her interference would affect fate that night. “But you should read her diary entries,” Morrigan continued to argue. “In one entry, she wrote about wanting to screw with a family just to show them how easily their peaceful lives could be destroyed, or something along those lines.”

“But did she actually go through with it?”

“Uh… no,” Morrigan admitted. “But she’s sadistic! She enjoys sending people to hell—tormenting them. It’s why she had a falling out with Death. Because she was using her reaper duties as a way to dish out her own punishment to evil souls!”

“Well… Yeah, I guess that’s not great, but she was victim to some pretty evil shit herself when she was alive, right? Maybe she’s acting this way because she’s still searching for her own justice. Maybe she thinks they need to be taught a lesson.”

Morrigan sighed. “And that’s okay?”

“No, not really. But it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t give her a chance, either.”

Morrigan narrowed her eyes. “She thinks I’m evil, remember? Do you realize that means she’d be perfectly fine tormenting and torturing me if she thought fate gave her the green light to do so?”

“Well, she just needs some time to warm up to you, I’m sure,” Hilda said, winking.

“Hilda!” Morrigan snapped, feeling the changeling press angrily against the seal.

Hilda turned, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not trying to upset you. But you haven’t seen what I’ve seen. I told you what Lorelai did to her, but you didn’t witness it with your own eyes. You don’t understand how truly awful it was. Alice is in danger, and if there’s anything I can do to help her, I will—as long as she doesn’t prove she’s genuinely dangerous to any of us. Got that?”

Morrigan shook her head slightly, turning her attention back to the shelf, pretending to search for… whatever they were supposed to find. “What if, by the time she proves she’s dangerous, it’s too late, and she’s done something irreversible that we could have stopped?”

Hilda nodded slowly, examining the wall. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. I happen to believe in innocent until proven guilty. If you start writing people off too quickly based on what you think they might do, you’ll be jumping at every shadow pretty soon and viewing the entire world as an evil place.”

Morrigan looked up, narrowing her eyes at Hilda. “That’s exactly Alice’s whole worldview,” Morrigan said. “She does see the whole world as evil. That’s a serious problem.”

Hilda didn’t respond immediately, crouching as she ran her fingers along the edge where the concrete wall met the floor, her staff’s gem pulsing gently. Morrigan could tell she was still listening, but seemed reluctant to argue further.

“I know you don’t like her,” Hilda finally said, straightening up. “And maybe she is dangerous. But so are you.”

Morrigan flinched. “I’m not—”

“You’re not the same as her, no. But with your job being what it is, don’t pretend your human sensibilities haven’t changed,” Hilda said softly, despite the words, she lacked any kind of accusatory tone. “Do you think people should just write you off as well?”

Morrigan tensed, feeling the changeling tighten along her spine. “W-What? How can you even say that?”

Hilda stepped closer. “Look, you’ve seen things no one your age should ever see, and done things you should have never had to do. But you’ve also tried to make the best of it. Given the chance, you’d protect someone who needed your help, even if you didn’t have to.”

Morrigan looked away, jaw tight. “And Alice would, too? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Exactly,” Hilda replied quietly. “I’m sure she’s got some good in her. She deserves a chance, even if she’s rough around the edges. If we treat her only as a villain, that’s all she’ll ever be.”

Morrigan didn’t respond. The changeling gradually settled but remained restless beneath her skin.

A moment passed in silence before Hilda turned back to the wall. “Anyway, I think I found something.”

She tapped her staff against the corner of the foundation, the sound echoing hollowly. She crouched and examined a subtle discoloration in the stone. “Heh, yup. We got a winner here.”

“A trap door?” Morrigan asked, approaching to peer over Hilda’s shoulder.

Hilda tried getting her fingernails under something, but couldn’t find any proper seams. She eventually stood and stared at the spot, one hand on her hip, thoughtfully. “This is solid concrete, but it might’ve been magically altered. Drawing a specific rune here might do the trick.”

“Oh, so it shouldn’t be too hard to open, right?”

“Ah… much easier said than done,” Hilda sighed. “I don’t. I don’t exactly know any spells for separating a slab of cement off the top of my head. That’s a little too specific.” She tapped her foot. “And knowing my mom, it’s going to be a hell of a lot harder than that either way.”

“But if it’s just concrete, can’t we just get through it the old-fashioned way? It’s not like it’s indestructible.”

“No, bad idea. We could end up triggering another rune on the other side that will seal whatever she’s hiding here permanently. Maybe we are not even supposed to try separating concrete at all. Could be more like a password rune or something like that… Hell, maybe it isn’t a rune at all and there’s a secret switch somewhere else in the house.”

“Huh… Just how complicated was your mom?”

“Oh, if it was something worth hiding… Let’s just say there’s a reason Atomyst hasn’t bothered sneaking in and poking around. He knows better than anyone how thoroughly my mom would’ve protected her secrets.”

“But it’s not a waste of time for us?” Morrigan questioned.

Hilda winked, lifting her staff—the staff that once belonged to her mother. “It’s completely different. I have her staff. And since I didn’t just stumble upon it—I summoned it without even meaning to… I’m sure my mom is to thank for arranging that somehow, and I’m pretty certain that means I’m the only one who can wield it. If there is a key to unlocking my mother’s secrets, it’s right here in my hand.”

***

Meanwhile, Emma and Alice occupied an upstairs room, overrun with disorganized piles of books, not even properly placed on shelves but more stuffed in at all angles, lying horizontally across vertical ones, and some even open-faced down on whatever available surface there was. Even Death’s cabin would seem orderly in comparison.

Emma would grab one, look it over, and set it to the side, contributing to the clutter in her attempts as she made more senseless piles.

Alice watched from the doorway, arms folded, eyebrow raised, growing frustrated with the seemingly meaningless task. When she saw Emma return to one of her own stacks as if it were a new one and start looking over the same books, she finally had enough.

The reaper cleared her throat, grabbing the young witch’s attention, and asked, “What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?”

“Ah—I don’t really know yet,” Emma said, grinning and scratching behind her ear. “Figured I’d just keep looking through until I found something that might seem relevant. Saw a couple interesting ones I might want to take for myself, too if Hilda gives the okay.”

Alice kept an eyebrow raised. “And which ones are those?”

Emma pointed. “I think I put a couple in that pile there.”

Alice sighed. “At this rate, you will accomplish nothing. I would suggest—take the books from that side of the room first so you have a clear area to make new stacks. This way, you know for sure if you have already looked through a stack as well. Likewise, clear a particular shelf and place any books you think may be relevant upon it.”

Emma blinked then slowly grinned. “Hey! That’s a good idea. Wanna give me a hand?” she asked as she went right over to the wall Alice had indicated and grabbed a stack.

“None of this has anything to do with me,” Alice said.

“Mmmm, but weren’t you ordered to listen to Hilda? And didn’t Hilda order you to help me? So that means you have to do what I want you to do right now. Right?”

Alice’s eyebrow twitched. “I would recommend to both you and Hilda that you understand whatever power you possess over me is limited. It is not as though my will has been affected by a simple order.”

Emma smirked as she put down the first stack. “Okay, then let’s try like this: Can you please give me a hand instead of standing there doing nothing?”

Without a word, Alice stepped into the room, then crouched down as she began gathering all books within arm's reach and putting them into a pile. Emma smiled and started on her own pile, then they worked tentatively in silence for a while.

Emma eventually tried some small talk, starting with, “So, you were born in Salem, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“You know, me and Hilda’s family roots actually trace back to Salem as well. Actually, some members of our family got caught up in the witch hunts…” Her words trailed off somewhat sadly, not sure if that was a bad topic to breach into for the sake of starting a conversation.

“I’m aware,” Alice said simply, moving a stack of books and then returning to start building another.

“Mmmm, yeah, so I’m just curious. Do you think you ever met one of my ancestors?”

“Perhaps.”

“Really?” Emma asked, excitedly. “Heheh, sorry, it’s just that it’s so rare to get to talk to someone who has lived as long as you. I mean, there’s Death and Noir, but it’s kind of different with them and I haven’t had many chances for a one-on-one talk with either of them anyway.” When Alice moved another stack without saying another word, Emma coughed into her hand and tried again. “Anyway… I’d love to hear about my ancestors. If you happened to have met any of them.”

“I’ve crossed paths with several of the Eastbourns, but they were inconsequential to me,” Alice said. “I had nothing to do with witches before I was tortured under suspicion of being one.”

Emma winced. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

Alice nodded faintly but kept her focus on the books. “I hadn’t practiced magic until after I died. Reaping was my first introduction to it. The irony is rather amusing.”

Emma saw the smirk appear on Alice’s scarred lips and wasn’t sure if she should be happy that she technically just opened up with a personal detail or disturbed that she was probably thinking about how she used that power to get revenge on her killers.

Emma started working on another stack of books. She wanted to understand her better, even if Alice wasn’t exactly trying to be understood.

“Well,” Emma said softly, “if it means anything… I think it’s kind of amazing you’re still here. That after everything you haven’t given up.”

Alice paused with a book in her hands, fingers resting on its worn spine. Her lips parted into a full smile. “Yes. I am not done with this world yet.”

Emma chuckled nervously. The way she said that was way too ominous. “Heheh, yeah, that’s uh—”

Then something shifted on the wall in front of Emma, like a black portal, and something black flew through, soaring over Emma’s head as she ducked and let out a scream. “Aaah!”

Crouching, she peeked up to see a raven with red eyes perched atop one of the untouched stacks of books. Its head bobbed back and forth between Emma and Alice, looking at each with one eye in turn.

“I-Isn’t that…” Emma trailed off.

“Nyx. What is it?” Alice asked.

“CAW! Emergency orders! CAW!”

“What emergency?” Alice asked calmly.

“Demon! CAW! All reapers must dispatch and abandon current duties! CAW! CAW! Unwritten deaths! Chaos! CAW!”

“A demon!?” Emma asked, paling, as she remembered both the changeling and the abomination that interrupted their camping trip.

“Hm…” Alice cracked her neck, still smiling. “It has been a while.” She turned towards the door. “Good luck with your books,” she said over her shoulder, then as she took her next step, she seemed to dissipate into the dark hallway, her body vanishing as a black fog replaced her that shot down the hallway and out of sight.

Emma stood, feeling a panic rise in her chest. She looked at the avian voidling just as it flapped its wings, zooming off the stack of books and directly into the ceiling, where it flew through another dark portal.

Down in the basement, Morrigan and Hilda were crouched over the spot on the floor that may have been the entrance to one of Claire’s greatest secrets. But their investigation was put on hold as Alice stepped out of a shadowed corner.

Hilda raised an eyebrow. “Hey, everything alright?”

“No, there’s work to do,” Alice said calmly, turning her gaze to Morrigan. “Come on, you’re with me.”

Morrigan stood, glaring at her. “Why should I go anywhere with you?”

“Because we have a mission.” She nodded up the stairs. “We can shadowstep through the surrounding woodland. Nyx will guide us.”

“Sorry, but I’m not just running off anywhere with you, especially not without any details.”

“And I don’t feel like waiting for Noir to come confirm my story to get you moving. So come with me now before I force you.” She tilted her head back, lips parting into her usual ominous smile. “We’ve got a demon to go kill.”

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Chapter 163 - Trust Fall