I know it for what it is, but it beats the alternative

[more_magic]

For Darlington, the idea had been there for a while, a seed that needed time as much as opportunity to germinate. There was and had always been something strange about the Darrow History exhibit--the doors to the gallery always locked, exhibit installs perpetually in a state of setup or teardown, burst pipes and other renovations continually in need. Once, he'd even found the whole wing closed for a wedding the events staff said had been booked for months. When he'd pressed, however politely, for more details on any of those, the most he ever got was blank stares or the same bland non-answers all of the city transplants grow to expect from Darrow's native residents.

It was a mystery, bizarre and complicated, exactly the kind of thing that wouldn't have been within his purview with Lethe but that he'd have unabashedly wished could be. Something was behind those doors, and the longer he went not knowing what it was, the more appealing the idea of finding out became.

The strange, slow vanishing of the non-transplanted Darrowites was unnerving, to be sure, but as the museum grew quieter and more deserted, the louder the thought of taking this opportunity became. This place has to have a history, a concrete narrative that explains what it is now and what it had been in the past, a cohesive whole instead of the oft-conflicting memories of its citizens. The possibility of finally getting there, of the satisfaction of discovery, keeps him up some nights and makes him distracted on other days; without really realizing it, Darlington starts to think of it as inevitable. To no surprise, Alex wants nothing to do with the idea, but it's no work at all to involve Palamedes--and Camilla, for where one goes so does the other, and God knows they could use the backup--in roughing out a plan, debating this detail and arguing over that bit of timing until they have something that feels as though it's going to work.

If they get caught, it's more than grounds for Darlington's termination, even arrest for all three of them--but in a vast complex of empty exhibit halls and abandoned offices, who's going to be there to know? On the appointed day, Darlington ignores Alex's huffy, pregnant glares and heads into the city, driving along eerily empty streets until a snarl of stalled and vacant cars forces him to park the car on a--hidden and nondescript, because the last thing he's prepared to do is explain to an already-irritated Galaxy Stern that their car was stolen on top of everything else--side street and walk the rest of the way.

They'd agreed to meet around the side of the building, near the smaller and less conspicuous staff entrance. Darlington checks again that he has his keycard and looks through the bag he'd brought, full of tools that might or might not be necessary depending what they find. In a city as empty as Darrow is now, even the quietest approach is noticeable; hearing footsteps coming closer, he looks up, relieved to see the twin figures of his friends.

And, for today, partners in whatever kind of mystery this turns out to be.

Comments

[more_magic]

"Probably best to avoid the dinosaurs for the present moment," he agrees, though he does look towards the entrance of the exhibit as they pass. "They do have an impressive collection, though."

They reach the end of the hall, and Darlington takes a moment to think about their route. "We're going to have to go up one floor to get there," he says, "and there's a staircase over...no. Wait." He grins, looking over at Pal. "This way. We'll cut through the rare books display and then go up."

Time is on their side, and while it might be better to move as quickly through the museum as they can, he can't resist the chance to see his friend's reaction to the history museum's collection of books and other printed artifacts. He turns right down the hall that branches off from the dioramas, rather than left towards the staircase they can just see the shadow of in the dark, trusting the two of them to follow.

[hellonspectacles]

Even in the shadowy light, Pal sees his friend grin and brightens in return. “Daniel, you know the way to my heart,” he says. “Though honestly, I can’t entirely believe they just leave the books out on display at all. Back home, anything made of actual paper is kept under aggressively strict conditions, and very few people are allowed to see the originals.” He exchanges a smile with Cam, though it grows a little wistful when he speaks. “Lady Pent would absolutely lose her mind if she were here.”

Clearing his throat, he explains, “Fifth House heir and a remarkable historian. She’d write me monthly, like clockwork, requesting access to some of oldest materials. My denials never stopped her from trying again."

[go_loud]

"Stop flirting, you two, Alex is going to be cross enough already," Cam faux-scolds, though she too has, of course, gone a little sharp and excited at the eyes at Darlington proffering the route through the rare books. Retroactively, she hopes a little that he's started to get her sense of humor down; Palamedes always knows when she's joking, but as with most of her emotions, it telegraphs a little close to the chest.

She's distracted from her second-guessing herself by Pal's addendum, smiling back at thoughts of home, and of the handful of pre-Res documents she'd had the privilege to see by virtue of being the Warden's Hand. She nods at the mention of Lady Pent, lips pressed together in regret, though she can't help but relax a little fondly at the memory of her insistent dispatches.

"She'd be absolutely boggled by this place," Cam agrees, quietly, to keep herself from thinking too much about how things might have changed with Abigail Pent alive and well. "So much guess-work, completely blown out of the water. Though, can you imagine trying to get information out of a Darrow ghost?"

[more_magic]

"If we ever, somehow, make it to New Haven, I'm introducing you to the Beinecke," says Darlington. Just like all the other times he's mentioned it to Pal and Cam, his voice carries the deep fondness he holds for his favorite place at Yale--his favorite place in the city, even, outside of Black Elm. "You'll either take up residency or insist on revamping their collections policies. Or both."

He does laugh at Cam's feigned exasperation, though the joke carries the sting of a reminder at the back of it: the memory of his and Alex's fight only a week prior, the dark and wounded glare in her eyes as she watched him leave just a few hours ago. Whether they come out of this with answers or not, he'll have plenty of things to apologize for. The turn to talking about their friend is a welcome distraction, either way, and Darlington listens with interest as they walk past display cases and informational plaques, the arched doorway of the books exhibit a mere smudge for now in the deeper shadows of the hallway.

"I can't decide if it'd be easier or more difficult than trying to question a living Darrowite," he says. "Alex hasn't tried to, not specifically, but she's definitely run into helpful Greys and those...not so much. Again, rather like the living."

[hellonspectacles]

“Abigail was very good with revenants,” Palamedes tells Darlington. “Even stubborn ones. And she could be awfully persuasive, too.” For a moment or two, he lets himself imagine both Abigail and Magnus in Darrow. It might not be home, but they would like it, he thinks. And it would give them more life than they had been allowed.

With a soft puff of breath, he lets the thought go. It’s a little too painful to contemplate for long—all the more because of how tantalizingly possible it is that they might appear someday. “To be honest, the very presence of ghosts in Darrow is a bit of a puzzle, don’t you think? Has Alex said if they’ve gone with the rest of the long-term residents?"

[go_loud]

Cam allows herself a little, wistful smile at the idea of Abigail and Magnus here -- impossible to not imagine them together. It's better than the visceral memory of them in the makeshift morgue of Canaan House, herself and Palamedes slapdash coroners for them and so many others, of that key... She studiously tries to envision them here, Magnus chuckling over a pun or delighting over pre-Resurrection pastries, Abigail adjusting her spectacles in excitement over some piece of history; both of them likely to firmly mother-hen the nearest teenagers.

"The Fifth House specializes in speaking to spirits," she says to Darlington, for some better context. "And beauracracy," she says with a little wry smile. "It's the largest in the system --" Cam goes through the little mnemonic she's learned that they use here and counts out from Dominicus, or Sol as it is now, she guesses. "Analogous to Jupiter, as you'd know it, I think. They're the core of the Empire, and very traditional, but they've always been spirit adepts and concerned with other kinds of history. Watchers over the River.. Abigail Pent was a very good example of her house."

They don't speak of spirits quite enough for the word Greys to not still sound a little funny to Cam: at home, if someone had said it, it'd almost certainly have been a -- probably derogatory -- nickname for the Sixth. She glances at Pal with a little curl of a smile, wondering if he ever thinks it too.

She lifts an eyebrow at the possibility. Either way -- that's fascinating, and something she hadn't thought of. "Darrow seems to delight in oxymoron," she points out, waving her fingers at the museum, the vast history contained by a place that should be devoid of it -- even if this isn't Darrow history specifically, it seems to have access to the remnants of a world you can't get to from inside it. She lifts her head as they turn a corner, instinctively listening for footsteps, glancing around for security measures.

[more_magic]

"I think it might be argued that spirits and bureaucracy is at least half of Lethe's usual workload," quips Darlington, as much for the truth of it as a way to lighten the moment. Even with the dark of the museum around them, it's hard not to miss the slight, pained look on each of their faces--even if it's only there a moment. Pal's question is a welcome distraction for all three of them, and Darlington nods.

"They've gone with the rest, according to her," he says. "Which is its own kind of mystery. She's elated, for obvious reasons, but the lack of them is...I wish I could explain it."

[hellonspectacles]

“Really? Fascinating. Blast, now I really do wish we had access to a decent spirit talker. I’d be curious to know if it was possible to call any of them back…” Palamedes trails off, wondering if he should just try it himself. Given Darrow’s low level of thanergy, he’d probably have a nosebleed for days, and he couldn’t even be certain that if he failed, Darrow would be to blame. As talented as he is, Pal is much better at the theoretical applications of the more occult forms of spirit magic than the practical ones.

He shoots Darlington a grin at the joke about bureaucracy. “Lethe sounds more and more Sixth every day, you know. Anyone in the Library who actually does need to call a revenant as part of their research needs to fill out four forms, submit a statement of interest, and have the whole application examined by a review panel—“ He cuts himself off, eyes alighting on an illuminated manuscript resting open under a plex vitrine. “Cam, come look at this!”