Shaniya got the key into a fight with the keyhole, but after a few minutes the door opened and we stepped inside our new home.
✧˖°.✧˖˚▹ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ༺༄ؘ 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 9 ༄ؘ༻ₓ˚ .୧ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୭˚▹ₓ˚.✧˖°.✧
You've probably never been to the Far East Suite, but you've probably been in a room that you couldn't wait to get out of, which is technically the same thing. There was a big bed, probably for Shaniya, and a small bed, probably for me. They were separated by a squat chest of drawers that appeared to be frowning. There was also a small table with a metal plate that was plugged into the wall, probably for heating food. Overhead there was a light fixture that looked like a deformed star, and the only thing that was on the wall was a painting of a little girl holding a dog with a bandaged paw that hung over the smaller bed. The room looked how it sounded - the cheapest room in Emerald Inn.
"We're sharing a room?" I asked.
"Be logical, Corlorown," Shaniya answered. "We can change our clothes in the bathroom. You should put your suitcase under the bed and go play in the lobby or something, I'm gonna unpack and take a nap. That always helps me think, and I need to think about how we can get the statue."
"There's a hawser that runs from the lighthouse down to the Trey mansion," I informed my chaperone.
"A hawser?"
"A hawser is a cable."
Shaniya rolled her eyes. "I knew that."
"Really?" I couldn't help asking. "I had to learn it from a little girl."
Shaniya exhaled deeply out of her nose and sat down on the large bed as she easily ran her fingers through her silky hair.
"Leave me alone, Corlorown," she sighed, "let me rest. Be back for dinner. I think we'll dine later this evening."
"Later than what?"
"Later than usual."
"We've never dined together."
"You're not helping me rest, Corlorown."
I decided to shut my mouth so Shaniya could rest and I slid my suitcase under the smaller bed. I walked out the room, shutting the door behind me. A minute later, I was back on the cracked sidewalk that had small plants sprouting through the cracks. I looked at the empty street with my hands full of almonds that I had grabbed from the lobby. I had more privacy outside of Emerald Inn than inside. I liked privacy, but I didn't know how to kill time before dinner started, so I turned and walked down the block to a building with large pillars since it was my best bet for something interesting.
I used to be that young man, almost fourteen, walking down an empty street in a fading town. I used to be that person, eating stale almonds and wondering about a strange, dusty item that was either stolen or forgotten, either belonged to one family or the other. Before that, I was a child with an unusual education, and before the baby who, I'm told, liked looking in the mirror and smiling with dimples. I used to be that young man, that child, that baby, and the building that I was standing in front of used to be a city hall.
Stretched in front of me was a scraggly lawn and a tall metal statue so worn from the rain and age that I could not even tell what it was a statue of, even when I was close enough to touch it. The shadows of the building's two pillars were wiggly stripes and the building itself looked like it had been slapped several times by a giant creature that had lost its temper. The pillar held an arch with the words 𝙼𝚄𝚁𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙴 written in letters that had probably once been darker. I spotted two words, 𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈 and 𝙷𝙰𝙻𝙻, although they were difficult to read since someone had covered the words with two other signs. Over 𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈 was a sign that read 𝙿𝙾𝙻𝙸𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 and over 𝙷𝙰𝙻𝙻 was a sign that read 𝙻𝙸𝙱𝚁𝙰𝚁𝚈. I made the most logical decision I could make and walked up the steps.
The library was an enormous room with long, high metal shelves and a clean, fresh scent. A mystery is solved with a story. It starts with a clue, but the problem is that you usually have no idea what the clue is, even if you think you have an idea. I thought the clue was the Bloodcurdling Beast, sitting under a sheet in a forgotten room of a lighthouse and I wondered how I might find more. I roamed the room looking for the librarian and soon found him sitting behind a desk swatting away a couple of moths with a plaid handkerchief. The moths were fluttering over a small sign that read 𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐘, 𝐒𝐔𝐁-𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍. He looked younger than I feel a librarian should look and he had the hairstyle of someone who somehow survived an earthquake in their scalp and lived to tell the story. He wore a black leather jacket with various metallic items on the sleeves, which slightly jangled as he went after the moths.
"Excuse me," I called out to him, "are you the librarian?"
Naceir waved his handkerchief one more time at the moths before giving up. "Sub-librarian, actually," he corrected me in a voice so deep I thought for a moment we both were at the bottom of a well. "Murthorn Marine can't afford a permanent librarian, so I'm here instead."
"How long have you been here?"
"Since I replaced the last one," he replied. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for information on local legends," I told him.
"Dame Barbie Tey is probably Murthorn Marine's most famous actress," Naceir suggested. "There should be a book about her career in the Theater Section."
"Not 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 type of legend," I said. "I mean old stories about strange creatures."
Naceir stepped around the desk. "Follow me to Mythology," he said and walked me toward a row of shelves in the center of the room. "There's also a good section about Zoology and Oceanography, if you're interested in real animals."
"No thank you."
"One never knows. They say that in every library, there's a single book that can answer the question that burns like fire in the mind."
"Perhaps, but not today."
"Good. Do you need more help...? Or do I need to help even more?"
"I'd like to browse on my own, please," I said. Naceir nodded and walked away without another word. The Mythology Section had several books that looked interesting and one that looked helpful. Sadly, it wasn't one of the ones that looked interesting. I found a table in the corner where I could read without anyone's eyes on me and walked over there to open 𝘔𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘔𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘴.
According to chapter 8, the Bloodcurdling Beast was a mythological creature, half horse and half shark - although some legends claimed that it was just a seahorse - that lurked in the water just outside Murthorn Marine. It had a large appetite for human flesh and made a terrifying bombinating sound - I had to get up to get a dictionary to look up what "bombinating" means, and turns out that it was a word there that meant buzzing - when looking for prey. Riley had the impression of an unordinary girl but not a liar, and sure enough, there was a story that Lady Wahalian took the Bloodcurdling Beast on one of her voyages. Other stories said that people could tame the beast by imitating its fearsome buzzing sound. In the olden days, there was a gong sounding around the town square to warn away the beast on moonless nights. Even though the gong was long gone, the legend still lingered. Mothers still told their children that if they didn't finish their vegetables then the beast would get them, and locals still dressed as the Bloodcurdling Beast on Halloween with masks that looked not very different from the one I'd donned in the car, at least based off of the book's illustrations. Supposedly, sailors still saw the Bloodcurdling Beat swimming with its body curled up like an underwater question mark, but I couldn't find this to be true with the sea drained.
I read for quite some time before I was distracted by a noise that sounded like a rock being thrown against a wall, just above my head. I looked up in time to see a small object fall to the table. It was a rock that had just been thrown against the wall, just above my head. It would be nice to think of something clever to say when something like that happens, but I always end up saying the same thing.
"Hey," I said.