Jade
Belfry turned out to be surprisingly excellent company, like a tiny winged podcast that never ran out of episodes. As I hunched over the fragile, crumbling book spread open beneath the bright new lamps Luther had set up for me, Belfry flitted in and out of my peripheral vision.
The library felt different tonight, almost alive with light. The repaired windows let in the fading warmth of the evening, chasing away the gloom that used to cling to every corner. Still moldy, still drafty, still a disaster by any normal standard, but it was trying. I liked that, and I wanted to show the place I was putting in the same effort.
Belfry swooped low over a stack of boxes.Did you know,he said proudly inside my mind,I have personally eaten fourteen bugs tonight? Fourteen, Jade. I’m practically single-wingedly restoring the ecological balance of this entire building.As he spoke, he swung by for another dive, and there was a distinct crunch, followed by:Make that fifteen!
I snorted and tried to steady my brush as I lifted another layer of grime from the embossed cover. “I’m sure history will honor your sacrifices.” From the sound of satisfaction that had followed that crunch, it had been anything but a chore. Honestly, I was a little relieved he was taking care of the pest issue. I did not enjoy bugs fluttering around in my library, especially if they were moths.
It should.He perched on top of a leaning shelf, chest puffed out in his tiny silk vest.If this place ever gets a plaque, I want my name on it. Belfry, Savior of Shelving. He was so serious that I blinked twice, staring at his proud form and the shiny gold chain around his furry little neck.
I shook my head, smiling, but my focus kept slipping. Every so often, a prickle crawled along the back of my neck, like someone or something was watching from the darker patches of the room. The repaired lights helped, but the shadows still gathered thickly in corners where ancient bookcases blocked the beams. The sensation made me glance over my shoulder more times than I wanted to admit.
Then my stomach growled, loud enough that Belfry’s ears twitched. “Okay, fine,” I muttered. “I should probably stop before I shake this whole page in half.”
I rose, stretching my back until it popped. As I began clearing away the tools and placing the fragile book back into its padded box, Belfry fluttered down and landed on my shoulder with a sort of casual intimacy. Warm, soft, and lighter than he should’ve been, he tucked himself into the curve of my neck like a living scarf.You did good work,he said warmly,for a human with limited eyesight, questionable posture, and absolutely no sonar.
“I’m honored,” I told him with a smile. Now that I’d accepted—sort of—that I was not imagining things, I thoroughly enjoyed the furred little fellow. It simply wasn’t possible that a guy as suave and sure of himself as Luther was sharing in the same delusion I was.
Belfry also appeared to be pretty happy about making a new friend, his slight body clinging to my shoulder as he nudged my jaw with his tiny head.Sooooo… when are you going to check the basement with all the special books?
I froze mid-reach, my fingers on the edge of the protective box. Had I heard that right? “…I’m sorry,” I said slowly. “The what with the what?” A library with a secret basement full of special books? I gazed around the room I was in, the windows dark, the space lit by the artificial lights Luther had brought in. There were plenty of beautiful, old books in here, far more than any tiny local library had any reason to have. And there was more?
Belfry stiffened guiltily. I felt his whole miniature body go stock-still.I… I mean… theoretically. If such a basement existed. Which it doesn’t. Maybe. Probably,he muttered, trying to backtrack but sounding far too obvious in his attempt.
I turned to squint at him, but that was difficult with him basically hugging my clavicle. “Belfry, I heard you! You said there were special books in the basement. Start talking.” My heart thudded in my chest with excitement, a grand sense of discovery buzzing through my veins. Did Mayor Hightower— I mean, Grandma Liz—know about this special part of the library? Wouldn’t those books have been a priority? The basement had to be even more damp!
No! I...I mean yes! I mean, oh no, Luther is going to pluck my wings off. Forget I said anything.Belfry’s words were confirmation; he wasn’t randomly babbling or trying to entice me with secrets. No, he sounded genuinely freaked out that he’d let a major bit of information slip from his fanged little mouth.
“You can’t say something like that and then say “forget it.” That’s not how talking works,” I said, pointing a finger sternly at him before turning in place to look at the library itself. Now, where could a basement entrance be hiding? I was pretty sure I’d been over every nook and cranny of this place, and I hadn’t seen so much as a hatch or door. It was basically one giant room filled with shelves, and stairs up to the second-floor walkway. So, where could this hidden basement be?
I’m a familiar,he squeaked.We operate on different conversational laws!His wings fluttered, wafting cool, slightly humid air into my face and abruptly reminding me that setting up the dehumidifiers tomorrow would have to be a top priority.
I opened my mouth to press further, but the distant sound of footsteps and a door softly closing distracted me. A moment later, Gwen breezed into the library like a gust of warm cinnamon air, her dark hair wild and loose about her shoulders, possibly ruffled by a pair of big hands. Her smile was bright and grandmotherly, despite the fact that she wasn’t actually a grandmother, not even close. Jackson followed behind her, broad-shouldered and golden-haired, the faintest glow still lingering in his amber eyes.
“You’re working late,” Gwen said, taking in the open boxes and scattered tools. “Come have dinner with us, sweetheart.” I was pretty sure I was not the only one running late, but I had a feeling her excuse was far more delightful than mine. Her shirt was untucked, her posture lax, and her eyes kept wandering to Jackson, looming at her side. They’d grow soft and swoony then, the way I always imagined heroines in books looked at their man when he swept them off their feet.
Before I could respond, Gwen’s gaze snagged on Belfry. “Oh! Well, hello there.” She blinked twice, as if completely surprised to see the bat. At first, I thought that was because she’d never seen him at all before. My heart thudded in my chest with relief, because she definitely did see him. Then it became obvious she didn’t just see Belfry, she knew who he was. “Shouldn’t you be with Luther?”
Belfry waved a wing cheerfully from my shoulder, his claws digging into my shirt as he clambered a little higher. I felt the brush of his fur against my chin again, followed by the soft silk of his red vest. He was preparing to talk, but was clearly taking a moment to compose his thoughts. Perhaps he was trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t give away that he’d spilled what appeared to be a pretty important secret.
I huffed before I could stop myself, frustrated by Belfry’s owner and by not having been informed there might be more important books at risk. “Luther had errands,” I said firmly. “So Belfry kept me company.” Jackson’s brows went up, and Gwen’s mouth dropped open, but I didn’t give either of them time to respond. “Speaking of which,” I said, crossing my arms, “can one of you please explain why I had to hear about a secret basement full of special books from—no offense—Belfry, a bat?”
Gwen and Jackson shared a look; a very loaded look. Uh-oh, that didn’t look good. It made me feel like they were rapidly trying to figure something out. It was in my nature to want to double down, and if this were Luther, I would have—but… I really liked Gwen. The last thing I wanted was to antagonize her or alienate her by saying something crazy. What had even made me think that Belfry’s ability to talk went beyond his owner? Just because Gwen knew who he was?
Jackson cleared his throat, his body shifting slightly forward on his toes. It would have been threatening, but he still had his arm around Gwen, which put her slightly in front of him. “Could you… explain that last part?” he said, his voice filled with confusion.
My stomach instantly dropped; they didn’t know. They didn’t know Belfry talked. I had just announced that fact like a lunatic at a dinner party. Heat crawled up my neck, and I suddenly became intensely aware of how unhinged I might sound. “Um. I meant—hypothetically?” I tried weakly. “Like, you know… figuratively?”
Traitor,Belfry whispered dramatically into my mind. I wasn’t sure if that soft swish of sound could be heard only by me or if they heard it too. What if they couldn’t hear him at all? Here I was, finally beginning to believe I wasn’t crazy or delusional, and then this happened...
I swallowed hard, but no moisture returned to my parched mouth. “I… uh, I might have misunderstood something.” And for the first time since arriving in Hillcrest Hollow, I genuinely worried that I had messed up, badly. The huge eyes and the complete and utter surprise were a dead giveaway that, no, Belfry had not talked to them. Not at all.
That was, of course, the exact moment Belfry decided to clue me in on that.Yeah, you see. Only Luther can hear me, and now you. They can’t hear me at all. It’s like talking to a wall, very annoying.Before I could stop the impulse, I lifted Belfry from my shoulder and gave him my most horrified look.
“Now you tell me that? Belfry…” I moaned, then realized I’d only made things worse. There was just something very hard to ignore about the little fellow. He fluttered his lashes, but his fanged, furred face was pulled into some kind of grimace that was off-putting rather than cute, though “cute” might have been what he was going for.
“You can talk with Belfry?” Gwen asked, hesitant, but not with that “are you crazy?” tone. Rather, she sounded surprised but pleased, and I couldn’t help but be the one who was surprised by that. I shrugged and said nothing, because I wasn’t sure how you responded to a question that unhinged.
