Mythology 101 (17 page)

“Thank you,” Keith smiled with equal gravity. The waitress reappeared as soon as they closed the menus, and took their orders to the kitchen.

“We haven’t heard lately about the famous paper you had to write or die, Keith Doyle,” Holl chided him. “The one about legendary peoples, specifically ourselves.”

“Oh, yeah,” Keith laughed self-consciously, caught off guard. “I guess I haven’t thought about it too much lately. It’s more fun to rub elbows with the real thing. I may write it one day. Maybe,” he said dreamily, “as a series of reminiscences. My memoirs.” He snapped out of his daydream when Holl gave him the raspberry.

“You missed a lot in your research,” Enoch pointed out. “There’re a lot of articles in old magazines. All rubbish, of course, but scholars consider it to be proper research only if it’s written.”

“Of course,” Keith agreed politely. “Just like Dr. Freleng, my other Sociology professor. But I’m too busy to write right now. Business, you know.” The waitress arrived and plunked platters of food down before them.

Over their lunch, they chatted about the class and their classmates. Keith listened with interest as the two elves discussed facets of his fellow students that filled him with admiration for their perception. Teri acted shallow, but it was all for show. She actually had a fine brain for spatial mathematics. Barry was afraid of women, probably because of his family life. Lee used the class as a sort of security blanket, and the Little Folk were worried about his dependency, seeing as how he was supposed to graduate in June.

Around a mouthful of hamburger, Keith inquired, “Why isn’t the class bigger? I can think of dozens of kids who need tutoring as badly as I do, but there’s only the privileged ‘we.’”

“Because those of us in it stand a chance of actually learning something from what we’re told. Would you assimilate as much if the class was big?” Holl asked.

“Probably not,” Keith admitted frankly. “I always go to sleep in lecture halls. I meant, why haven’t the
students
brought in more students?”

Enoch scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably, and looked out of the window. Holl studied his sandwich for inspiration. “It’s got to do with the same sort of … compulsion that’s on the shortbread cutters,” he explained. “One comes in, and he asks the next one, and that one invites the one after that.”

“Oh,” said Keith. “Like a chain letter. You’re invited, and you eventually invite one person to join the class, and then
they
ask one person. How do you know who to choose? And how do you keep from asking more than one person?”

“Well, it sort of happens to you,” Enoch explained, making sure no one was in earshot. “When the need is greatest, the newest of you gravitates toward the student in need, and then
that one
comes in. Marcy fought asking you, partly because she is … inhibited as she is. One day, you’ll find someone who needs us. Whether or not you know they need help.

“The Master accepts only serious students. We have had a bad one or two, but the ones who come to gape never stay long. Their memory fades away, until they don’t really believe that they’ve seen us.”

“They might remember a discussion group, but to them, it was taught by a short man with red hair who brought his kids with him to class.” Holl indicated Enoch and himself. “Not very interesting.”

“Ah,” Keith nodded, comprehending some of it. “A geas. This magic stuff is complicated. But interesting. I want to know all about it. Can you grant wishes?”

Enoch sputtered. “Do we look like genii?”

“Nope,” said Keith gaily. “Leprechauns.”

O O O

By the time they left the restaurant the sky had cleared. Keith calculated there would still be two or three hours of sunlight. “If you’re not in a hurry to get back, I could just drive you around the countryside for a while. Since this is your first look-see at the world outside Midwestern, that is.” He gestured invitingly at the road ahead.

“Yes,” said Holl, without hesitation.

“Absolutely.” Enoch nodded enthusiastic agreement.

At random, they took a road leading west, and turned corners when it pleased them. For the most part, Keith followed his nose, keeping track of the route only enough to be able to find his way back. Some snow had already fallen hereabout, but it remained only in gullies and hillsides sheltered from the sun. In the cold wind, the countryside looked lonely, but there was an occasional house set far back from the road with cheery yellow lights showing through the curtained windows. Cats watched them go by from comfortable seats on top of gateposts and mailboxes, or folded into gaps in the bare, black flowerbeds. Dogs barked at them from fenced yards, and one bold collie, smiling, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, paced the car along one long slow stretch. On more than a few properties, “For Sale” signs quivered hopefully in the wind over fields cleared of crops. Barns with the paint peeling off the walls appeared unexpectedly over the rise, and a few cold cows huddled together on the ground in the corner of a fenced meadow.

A few miles after passing through a small town with only two traffic signals and one strip of stores on its main street, they took a sharp right turn onto a half-paved county road that led them up a low hill past leaf-less trees. Keith spotted a narrow track leading off to the left that wound around, diving into the crease between two high fields where the cornstalks lay in broken rows. They crossed a bridge over a shallow brown river, and watched a tributary flowing diagonally away from them the length of the heavily wooded lot on their right. Lights winked from the windows of the big house, standing on its own hill deep within the boundaries, almost invisible behind the trees. There was a “For Sale” sign next to the road there, too. Holl, Enoch, and Keith sighed in unison.

“Nice place,” Keith decided, pulling over to study it.

“That’d be a perfect place to live,” Enoch said longingly.

“It would,” Holl agreed. “It has good spirit about it.”

“Yeah, but it’s probably fifteen hundred dollars an acre, and we don’t know how big the parcel is. Land isn’t cheap, especially with its own buildings.”

They traveled further as the light began to disappear, perusing Keith’s Illinois road map with interest by the light of a hastily twisted wick Enoch made from the rag Keith used to check his oil. Keith watched the process with interest. “It looks so easy,” he said wistfully.

“It is easy,” Enoch assured him. “A matter of practice, naturally, much like you’re driving this car.”

“Want to swap lessons?” Keith offered hopefully.

“One day, when there is more time,” Enoch considered.

“Go on,” Holl urged his friend, with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ll get you a box to sit on.”

O O O

They looked at large farms with “For Sale” signs on them, especially those on lots with heavy forestation. The two elves looked at the farms speculatively. The real estate idea had been firmly planted by Keith, and it was germinating.

When it started to grow dim, the Mustang turned back toward town. “The others might like to have a drive around to look at things,” Holl said. Enoch nodded.

“Sure,” Keith said, pulling into campus. “Happy to oblige. Doyle Tours, Limited, a division of Hollow Tree Industries. We cater to Legendary Beings.”

***

Chapter 24

When he turned the corner to drop them off at Gillington, he spotted a crowd milling in the common outside the building. “Gack!” Keith exclaimed, and slammed on the brakes. The elves were thrown forward, but Keith was too distracted to apologize. A huge crowd of students and a bunch of police cars, with their blue lights revolving, were clustered around the corner of the building near the elves’ back door. Campus security was there, too, keeping the curious onlookers out of the way of the police.

“What is it?” Holl demanded. “What’s happening?”

“Did they get in? Is the doorway open?” Enoch barked worriedly.

Keith signaled to them to lie down flat, and got out of the car. He boosted himself up on top of the hood and squinted through the revolving lights at the building. “There’re a bunch of people at the wall,” he called down to them. “They’re looking at the stonework. It looks like it’s damaged. But I don’t think it’s broken through. All surface damage, but it’s really extensive.” One of the men in gray overalls felt around inside a crater about the size of Keith’s head that had been blasted out of the masonry.

“Hey, you!” A security guard in a green uniform came striding over and glared up at Keith. “What are you doing here? There’s no parking!”

“I’m, um …” Keith said glibly, scrambling down.

“What’s all this back here?” the security officer snapped out, yanking up the bulky tarpaulin in the back seat of the car. Keith’s heart stopped. “
Wood
?”

“I’m taking it to the woodshop, officer,” he croaked out. “It’s for a project.”

The man nodded and waved a dismissive hand at him. “Good. Then take it over there. Move your car out of this vicinity. Say,” he said abruptly, with a searching look at Keith and his Mustang, “do you live on campus? I think I’ve seen that vehicle.…”

“Yes, sir,” Keith said immediately, interrupting him. “Thank you, sir. I’m going.” He jumped back into the car and backed it away from the officer, who was still studying him. “Why didn’t he see you?” he asked the back seat in astonishment.

“He wasn’t looking for us,” Holl explained.

“Magic?”

“Park the car,” said Enoch’s voice tiredly. “We’ll have to hide.”

O O O

He followed the two elves across the Student Common to a manhole cover well hidden behind a clump of bushes. There was still enough of a crowd to put Keith in panic. He was afraid that someone would spot them, but the mob’s attention was still on the library wall. Now, men in coveralls were bringing forward a wheelbarrow containing a bag of cement. It looked like they were going to fix the break on the spot. A mini-cam crew from the local news station positioned itself near the damaged wall and began rolling tape. A commentator placed herself in plain sight, and spoke earnestly into her microphone. The crowd moved in closer.

It took the combined strength of both elves to pry up the heavy steel cover. Keith kept a lookout as they slid down into the dark hole. He let the lid down as gently over his head as he could, and felt his way down an iron ladder made of staples hammered into the wall. When he reached the bottom, he discovered that it was not entirely dark down there. They were in a portion of a steam tunnel.

“The way is blocked,” Holl explained, pointing along a spot-lit walkway to the distant end of the tunnel, “but at least we can let them know that we are all right. I will signal.”

“They’re sealing that block of wall up there with cement,” Keith told him. “Someone was definitely trying to get in. He did a lot of damage. You won’t be able to use that door.”

Holl looked worried. “That means that someone else
was
spying upon us. There’s no mistake now. I thought so. Wait here.” He strode down the hall through the patches of light and darkness, his figure strobing in and out of existence.

Enoch looked around him with a sort of nostalgia. “This is my earliest memory of Midwestern University. We found this place. I stole food from maintenance workers so we could live.”

“I know,” Keith said absently, surveying the place curiously. “Ludmilla told me about it.” He realized what he had just said and froze. He glanced at Enoch, and the elf had stopped in place too, with open shock on his face.

The pose broke, and the brows drew down over Enoch’s nose. “You know about her.” It was an accusation. Enoch’s hands closed into fists, and Keith wondered if he was going to hit him. He considered, uncomfortably, that he probably deserved it. Never could keep a secret from birth, he chided himself. “How did you find her?”

“Lee told me,” Keith admitted meekly. “I needed to know things. I’ve taken Marcy there, too. Ludmilla asked to see her.”

“Ah,” Enoch said. He pursed his lips thoughtfully and the fists un-balled. “I would suppose it is all right, then.”

“She said to say ‘hi’ to her oldest friend.”

The elf nodded, friendly again. “I say ‘hi’ back to her, then.”

“Maybe you’d better say it yourself,” Keith said, looking around. “There’s no way you can get back into the library through the main door with all this ruckus going on. And it’s closed tomorrow, Sunday. This place doesn’t look too comfortable. Maybe you should stay with her overnight.”

“That is an idea with merit.”

“So it is,” said Holl, coming back through the lights. “We are accounted for. The elders were worried to death when they heard the scratching on the stone. It must have been a hammer and chisel that did all that damage.” He examined his knuckles. “I’ve never tapped so long a message. My hand is scraped sore.”

“We will stay here until it is full dark and then go. It is a good thing that we had such a good midday meal. We may have a long wait.”

“Well, I’d better get out of here. They’ll be keeping a close watch on anyone wandering around after dark, and I’ve got something to hide.”

“Leave me the keys to your car, Keith Doyle,” Holl said. “We’ve still got to get the wood. We’ve a business to run.”

As Keith started to shinny up the ladder, Enoch looked up at him. “By the way, Keith Doyle, I’m sorry I made a mess of your dormitory room. You’re a good fellow after all.”

Keith did a double-take. “It was you?” he demanded, dumbfounded. “Both times?”

“Well, certainly,” Enoch said with asperity. “Perfectly understandable in the circumstances. Don’t you agree?”

Holl chuckled. “It’s a good thing there’s peace between you now.”

O O O

Two men in green security uniforms stood up as Keith entered the foyer of Power Hall. He recognized the shorter of the two as the guard who stopped him outside Gillington Library. “Keith Doyle?” one of them asked.

“That’s me.”

The bigger man behaved as if he was uncomfortable. “We’re here because we received information.… You understand we’re not accusing you, but we have to check every lead on something like this.”

Keith felt his throat go tight. “On something like what?”

The other guard felt it was time to speak up. “I saw you over by the library. In fact, I’ve seen you there a lot. You know what was going on there?”

“It looked like someone bashed a hole in the wall.”

“Right. Know anything about it?”

“No, sir. I’ve been out all day.”

The big guard jumped on his phrase. “And how did you know it happened today?”

Keith swallowed. “Well, I meet my … girl there. A lot. That’s … where we meet.”

“Very sweet,” the guard said unsympathetically. He’d broken up a lot of necking couples in his time, and enjoyed it. “Our source said he saw you hiding around there this morning around dawn.”

“What? Who?” Keith demanded. “Who was hanging around at dawn? Why?”

“Jogging,” the guard said, glaring at Keith. “And we’re not identifying him to you at this time. I’m asking you again: what were you doing?”

O O O

Keith got away somehow, leaving the guards only marginally convinced of his innocence, and fled to his dorm room. Pat was there, lying on his back reading with the stereo headphones on. Setting the book down on his chest, he looked down his long nose at Keith. “The cops were up here looking for you. Where’d you hide the body? I told ’em I didn’t know when you’d be back.”

“They were waiting for me in the lobby.”

“What have you done? Stolen the kiddies’ milk money?”

“Nothing.” Keith scowled, shucking off his jacket.

Pat levered himself up onto an elbow. “Doyle, I don’t believe you. What is going on? Carl told me about the Senate thing and the Historical Society. What is there about the library and you, anyway?”

“Nothing I can explain right now. I would if I could. I will, as soon as I can.”

Pat raised his eyebrows into a thin, dark arch. “Don’t do me any favors.”

Keith shrugged, flopping into a chair. “I don’t know how, but I’m sure that Carl helped set me up for the security guards.”

His roommate threw back his head and groaned. “Will you lay off Carl? You must think he’s really out to get you. It bugs him. And he’s still pissed at you because you accused him of trashing the room.”

Keith considered. “Maybe I should apologize to him for that. I found out who did it.”

“Oh? Who?”

“A guy who thought I was trying to steal his girlfriend.”

“Is this the girl from Sociology class?” Keith nodded. “Does he live on campus?”

Keith shot Pat an enigmatic look. “Yes.”

“Well, then you can return the favor some time. I’ll help,” Pat offered. “Gladly. I think we got ants from the last Coke spill.”

“We’ve come to an arrangement. Besides, I’m not interested in her anymore.”

“What, after all semester of dreaming and bellyaching?”

“I’ve found this wonderful girl.…”

Pat raised a hand to halt the babble. “Don’t tell me. I’ve got better things to do.”

Keith grinned at him, and reached for his homework.

O O O

His anxiety over the anonymous informer made him sleep badly. He was sure in the back of his mind that the vandal and the informer were the same person. Security would have noticed if the damage had been done later in the day. Surely it was just one person. Whoever it was was serious or desperate enough to draw the attention of the whole world to the elves’ retreat. His nervousness was compounded by his concern for Enoch and Holl, but a call from Ludmilla Hempert early the next morning helped to assuage his guilty feelings.

The local newspaper’s headline announced “Vandals Deface Historic Gillington.” Keith went through the story a dozen times, and walked as near as he dared to the building, itching to get inside. He felt frustrated because the way was blocked, and he knew he was being watched. He was still concerned about the two elves, but it was a needless worry. They knew their way around the campus better than he did, and ought to have no trouble staying out of sight. He could be their biggest hazard.

***