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Warning: this story gets a little bit dark (Not too bad, just perceived risk of death and fairly graphic terror). Don’t read it before bedtime and remember that everything turns out well in the end.
‘In books lies the soul of the whole past time the articulate audible voice of the past when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream.’
– Thomas Carlyle
(Quote carved on the wall of the Mitchell Vestibule in the NSW State Library)
Nixie exhaled and their breath condensed in the cool air, forming a little cloud of dragon smoke. Morrigan sat next to them on a park-style wooden bench. She was letting her gaze excitedly scan the dark, damp courtyard and dwell on the silhouette of a statue on a pedestal, the mossy low wall that weaved around the stone building and the two trees that spread their swaying branches above the whole scene.
“Thanks for organising this,” Morrigan grinned, looking at Nixie with glittering eyes, “I can’t wait for the tour,”
“I thought you’d like it! I’m really glad that you do,” Nixie smiled. They both leaned back, relaxing as much as they could on the hard bench. Their cold hands gently brushed and their fingers slowly entwined. Morrigan rested her head on Nixie’s shoulder. Her lips quirked upwards as their eyes met and Nixie smiled back, leaning into her too.
“Are you two here for the midnight ghost tour?”
They both jumped apart. Standing next to their bench was a dark-haired man with his hands tucked into the pockets of a long coat. He half-smiled at them as he waited for their answer.
“Yep!” Morrigan said, casually jumping up from the bench. Nixie hurriedly scrambled to their feet after her.
“So you must be Morrigan and Nixie,” he nodded, “Excellent!”
He strode in front of their bench and jokingly mimicked the statue’s pose. Nixie held in a laugh; he looked ridiculously similar to the statue when he did that.
“My name is Ernest, and I’ll be your guide as we investigate the ghosts that haunt the State Library tonight,”
The ominous clanging of a bell rang through the chilled night air. Nixie and Morrigan stared, wide eyed, as Ernest basked in the noise. The sound faded away and he lowered his arms to his sides.
“Let’s start-” he began before being cut off by the same ringing bells. He made a face at the sky, halfway between a disappointed English teacher’s stare and an irritated teenager’s eyeroll, and reached into one of his jacket’s pockets. After digging around for a bit, he pulled out a phone that looked cheaper than Nixie’s little brother’s. The screen lit up as he tapped at it, his expression devolving into a frown.
“Do you two know how to turn the alarm off?” he grumbled, passing his phone over.
“Yeah…” Morrigan murmured, nodding. She flicked the screen to get the password entry keypad up. “Can you enter your password?”
“Of course…” he tapped it in.
“Thanks,” she said, flicking to the alarms tab and pressing ‘stop’. The dinging din finally stopped and Morrigan gave the phone back to Ernest.
“Thank you,” he huffed, putting it back in his pocket, “I still can’t figure that thing out.
“Now, on with the tour! Let’s start here. Have either of you noticed the statue of a cat” -he pointed- “on that windowsill?”
“No,” Nixie said, blinking. They could barely make out the shadowy shape that Ernest was pointing at.
“Let’s get a closer look.” He strode over to the low wall and leaned over slightly. Nixie and Morrigan quickly walked up beside him to look.
A little silhouette, cloaked by the nighttime darkness, stood on a tiny sandstone block on the windowsill. From up close it was clearly distinguishable as an animal. It was frozen in the act of sneaking across the windowsill, staring curiously at the person who caught it.
“That’s Trim, the first cat to circumnavigate Australia,” Ernest said, “He travelled with” -he gestured to the bigger statue- “that handsome guy. Matthew Flinders. On a voyage to England, they stopped at a French colony on Mauritius. At the time, France and England were at war,”
“Did they get into a battle?” Nixie asked.
“No. They were put under house arrest,” he murmured, “Trim was allowed to leave and wander around. One day he didn’t come back,”
“Oh,” Morrigan winced, hugging the doll she brought. Ernest just kept staring at the back of Matthew Flinders’ statue. Nixie opened and closed their mouth, realising that they had been about to tell him that they were sorry for his loss. Ernest shrugged.
“If you two are ready for the rest of the tour, the entrance to the library is this way,” he said, turning back to them and gesturing to the left, “Paranormal adventures await!”
Ernest scrabbled at the lock of the library’s door with the key. Morrigan turned her head around, clutching her plush doll to her chest. Nixie was standing behind Ernest with their hands in the pockets of their jeans.
“There,” Ernest smiled. He pushed the door open and stood back. “Guests first,”
Morrigan took three steps inside then promptly forgot about walking.
The entrance area was cast in a soft golden light by half-spheres suspended from the ceiling. Part of the floor was roped off to isolate an intricate map drawn onto the tiles. Uneven lines ran parallel to each other from the left and right of it. Indoor pillars stretched upward, ending when they touched the ceiling, where they opened like stone flowers. Signs advertising exhibits stood by staircases. Doors revealed peeks of what was behind them through panes of polished glass. Reaching across a balcony, a bronze railing twisted like wrought iron and proudly displayed a beautiful clock. Swirling plaster carvings crept across the ceiling and accentuated the pillars and skylight.
“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” Ernest said, “I never saw anything like this when I was your age,”
“Really?” Morrigan murmured. Her gaze was still fixed on the room. A small movement dragged it over to Nixie, who had shifted their left arm to hug their right. Their eyes glittered like fairy lights as they read a quote carved onto the wall. Morrigan nudged their hand with hers before lacing her fingers around it. Nixie smiled, gently squeezing Morrigan’s hand. She didn’t look away.
“Yeah,” Ernest laughed, “I was reading adventure novels and dreaming of a life like the ones I read about,”
“What was your favourite book?” Nixie asked.
He grinned. “Robinson Crusoe. It’s old now, but I still love it. I haven’t read it in a while though,” his voice took on a dramatic spooky tone like a storyteller’s. “I would’ve, but it’s missing from the library,”
After speaking, he paused for a moment. His smile slowly drooped.
“Really?” Morrigan frowned.
“Every single copy,” he admitted dully, “A few books have just… disappeared. No trace and nothing on any cameras. My Love Must Wait, Terra Australis, Adventures on Leaky Ships…”
“Vanished into thin air,” Morrigan whispered, “That’s awful,”
Ernest nodded, “All through the library, artefacts have been moved around but no one knows who did it. Inexplicable noises that-”
A creak split the quiet atmosphere from somewhere just out of sight. The two teenagers whipped around and their guide swiftly followed suit.
"What was that?!" Nixie hissed.
Morrigan huffed a small nervous laugh. "I don't know,"
"I'll see what it is," Ernest said, starting forward. Nixie and Morrigan huddled closer together as he strode around a corner. Morrigan's doll was squished by a constricting hug and her long blond hair fell over its face. Nixie laid an arm around her back. They both stood still, looking at the place their guide had gone. Morrigan felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise like the fur of a spooked cat and a chill deliberately, maliciously, ran down her spine. It was the same feeling as the one that let her instinctively know, when she was playing a horror game, that the monster was right behind her. Normally she relished the feeling. Now, when it was heightened by a cold pressure in her chest, WHEN SHE WASN’T PLAYING A GAME…
She turned. Slowly. Cautiously.
She saw the end of the room vanish into shadow.
She felt Nixie move their arm away and clutch her hand.
She heard a quiet scrape.
She saw a pair of fiery eyes open and narrow, glaring.
Before Morrigan could blink a massive dark jaw opened in the shadows and it rushed forwards. It didn't crawl or walk or slither; the disembodied ‘face’ moved without need for limbs.
Morrigan spun with her lover and ran. No matter how many times they tripped over each other, they didn't let go. Morrigan didn’t know if she was screaming. She could only feel the tiles under her boots, Nixie’s hand clinging to hers, her jaw opening wide to try to make a sound, a dryness in her mouth and throat. She could only hear the thuds of her and Nixie’s feet, quick, daring breaths and the horrifying RASP that it made, always seeming to be from right behind them…!
Nixie sprinted, dragging Morrigan or being dragged by Morrigan, dashing up and down staircases and between bookshelves. They were too busy focusing on the giant shadow monster relentlessly chasing them with its gaping black hole of a mouth and twin suns for eyes. When they dared to peek behind them, all they saw was its shadowy mass too close to them. It wasn’t incredibly fast. That didn’t matter though, Nixie realised as a chilling pressure formed in their chest. It had one huge advantage over the two sprinting teenagers.
Endurance.
Its lungs didn’t scream and cry for air. Its heart didn’t beat so fast that it thought it would explode. Its mouth didn’t gum up or go so dry that it tried and failed to suck moisture out of the air. Its eyes didn’t sting or blur. Its legs and arms and feet and hands didn’t ache. Its every atom wasn’t in absolute and utter agony.
“MORRIGAN!” Nixie cried, “If w-we’re going-g to d-die, then…”
Thud thud thud thud
Raaaaaasssp
“We’re… NOT… going… to die! I w-won’t let us!” Morrigan snarled. They ran past study tables and desks, hand in hand.
“I’m s-sorry for bringing you-ou here! If I hadn-n’t, we w-w-wouldn’t be…” whimpered Nixie.
“Save... breath! Please!” Morrigan begged, pulling Nixie along, “Save it… so we can… get out of here!”
As they sprinted around the twelfth identical balcony corner, Nixie snuck a peek behind them and the monster was right there, filling their entire vision with an inky void that looked like a death beyond death. A portal to the deepest pit of hell, to Tartarus itself. It screamed of decades of restless wandering and searching but never finding, never slowing, and Nixie stumbled, dragging Morrigan down with them. Nixie took in a ragged breath, curled on the floor, and Morrigan rolled over to them and tackled them into a hug. Both teenagers braced for impact, hoping that whatever the monster did when it had them was quick.
…..
There was a light flapping noise from all around them.
They were brushed by dozens of… paper scraps, Nixie realised. They tentatively uncurled and looked around warily.
The fragments were gently flittering down like butterflies landing on flowers.
Nixie reached out a shaking hand, still shot through with the adrenaline left over from the chase, and picked one up. It was covered in writing and torn on two of its three edges.
“They’re from books,” Nixie murmured, scooting over to Morrigan and holding out the scrap.
“‘…best and most illustrious of his…’” Morrigan read out, “What do the others say?”
‘This danger escaped, he sought ref’
‘ame of my Uncle Toby’s honest, kind-hearted, humble companion.’
‘I’ll chain you up;’
‘I can never speak of cats wit’
‘will his like’
‘Being a favourite w’
‘energy and elasticity of his mov’
‘e was shipw’
‘“See the vanity of that c’
‘ain of his person, especially of his snow-white’
‘hout a sentiment of regret for my po’
‘or Trim,’
Nixie stopped. Carefully, they held the last two up to their face.
“Morrigan,” they whispered, “I think I know what… or who… that shadow creature was.”
“ERNEST!” Morrigan screamed. She and Nixie ran right up to their guide and stopped, doubling over and gasping desperately for air.
“Morrigan? Nixie?” he said, turning to look at them with scrunched eyebrows, “I thought you were going to stay in the Mitchell Vestibule until I came back,”
Morrigan looked up, still out of breath. “We were, but then we were chased by a ghost,”
In the five seconds of silence that followed that explanation, Morrigan could almost hear cicadas screeching outside.
“Oh,” Ernest blinked, “Are you both alright?”
Morrigan looked at him incredulously. Okay, he was going to believe her. Huh.
“You… believe us?” Nixie asked.
“I run the ghost tour, not the ordinary library tour,” he pointed out.
“Do you know anything about the ghost?” Morrigan asked, eyes narrowed.
He held his hands up to his shoulders. “I didn’t set it loose, if that’s what you mean. I also didn’t know for sure that there was one here. I didn’t put you both in danger on purpose,”
“Ah,” Morrigan said, loosening her shoulders and straightening up.
“We think that we know who the ghost is,” Nixie admitted, taking the paper scraps out of their pockets, “It dropped these and disappeared after catching up with us,”
Nixie passed the scraps over to Ernest, who held them right up to his face to examine them. After reading the first one, his face went slack. Morrigan shifted impatiently as he read, looking around the room.
That’s how she saw one corner of the room grow dark, darker than shadows at midnight.
Raaaaaaasssp.
Ernest slowly breathed out, lowering the scraps of paper.
“Trim,” he murmured, turning to the shadow, “This isn’t like you,”
Morrigan choked a bit before remembering how to breathe again.
“You were sweet-natured, and kind, and brave and loyal,” he pleaded. With his every word, the creature was shrinking like a shadow approaching a light.
“I never forgot you,” Ernest smiled with misty eyes, “I swore I’d make monuments to you. I… didn’t get to though,”
Something small padded out of the receding darkness, a little black cat with white fur on his paws, lower jaw and chest. Trim hesitated before leaping into Ernest’s arms.
Except ‘Ernest’ probably wasn’t their guide’s real name.
“You’re that explorer guy,” Morrigan said, “The one who’s a statue,”
‘Ernest’ winced. “Matthew Flinders,”
“Right,” Morrigan snapped her fingers, “That one,”
“How on earth are you… alive, I guess?” Nixie asked, brows furrowed.
“I don’t know,” Matthew shrugged, “I just…. woke up, about a month ago, on that bench you two were sitting on. There was a full wallet in my pocket. I still haven’t figured out how or why,”
Matthew scratched Trim under his chin and he purred. Morrigan couldn’t believe that the handsome little ghost cat had been chasing them through the whole library as a massive shadow monster barely fifteen minutes ago.
“What’re you going to do now?” Nixie asked.
“Continue living, I think,” Matthew answered, “It’ll be strange and I’ll have to figure out that godforsaken ‘phone’ device, but…” -he smiled- “I think it’ll be worth it,”
A cheerful jangle sounded from his pocket and Trim shrieked, clawing his way away from it. Matthew closed his eyes, crossed himself and took his vibrating phone out of his pocket.
“Please?” he winced, holding it out to them.
“Of course,” Morrigan huffed lightly, taking it and turning the alarm off.
“Thanks,” he smiled, “That was the ‘end of tour’ alarm. Was that enough of a paranormal adventure for tonight?”
Morrigan laughed as Nixie slowly nodded. “Yeah, I think so,”
“Then the exit is this way,” Matthew grandly gestured, “I’ll see you out,”
Once Matthew closed and locked the door, he turned to them. Trim was walking behind him, rubbing his ankles and purring.
“Thank you for reuniting me with Trim,” he said, smiling sincerely.
Nixie grinned. “I’m glad we did,”
“I’ll be going now,” Matthew nodded, “Have a good day, and if you could recommend the NSW State Library ghost tour to your friends, the extra money might be able to cover the cost of the books that this little thief” -he stroked Trim- “stole. Not many people are booking it,”
“We will,” Morrigan laughed, “It sure was an experience,”
“A genuine ghost tour with a genuine ghost tour guide!” Nixie declared.
All three of them gently shook and giggled with unrestrained mirth.
“Goodbye, Nixie, Morrigan,” Ernest said, “And thank you once again,”
He picked up Trim and strode away, disappearing into the nighttime shadows. The teenagers watched him go.
“That was one heck of a date,” Morrigan smiled.
Nixie sighed. “Sorry about the whole ‘risk of death’ thing,”
“Hey,” Morrigan poked them, “You didn’t know what you were signing us up for,”
Nixie huffed, watching their breath form a little cloud.
Morrigan gasped. “Dragon smoke!”
They both took turns trying to exhale the most impressive breath, thankful that they were still breathing, until Nixie’s dad’s car pulled up at the side of the road.
‘In books lies the soul of the whole past time the articulate audible voice of the past when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream.’
– Thomas Carlyle
(Quote carved on the wall of the Mitchell Vestibule in the NSW State Library)
Nixie exhaled and their breath condensed in the cool air, forming a little cloud of dragon smoke. Morrigan sat next to them on a park-style wooden bench. She was letting her gaze excitedly scan the dark, damp courtyard and dwell on the silhouette of a statue on a pedestal, the mossy low wall that weaved around the stone building and the two trees that spread their swaying branches above the whole scene.
“Thanks for organising this,” Morrigan grinned, looking at Nixie with glittering eyes, “I can’t wait for the tour,”
“I thought you’d like it! I’m really glad that you do,” Nixie smiled. They both leaned back, relaxing as much as they could on the hard bench. Their cold hands gently brushed and their fingers slowly entwined. Morrigan rested her head on Nixie’s shoulder. Her lips quirked upwards as their eyes met and Nixie smiled back, leaning into her too.
“Are you two here for the midnight ghost tour?”
They both jumped apart. Standing next to their bench was a dark-haired man with his hands tucked into the pockets of a long coat. He half-smiled at them as he waited for their answer.
“Yep!” Morrigan said, casually jumping up from the bench. Nixie hurriedly scrambled to their feet after her.
“So you must be Morrigan and Nixie,” he nodded, “Excellent!”
He strode in front of their bench and jokingly mimicked the statue’s pose. Nixie held in a laugh; he looked ridiculously similar to the statue when he did that.
“My name is Ernest, and I’ll be your guide as we investigate the ghosts that haunt the State Library tonight,”
The ominous clanging of a bell rang through the chilled night air. Nixie and Morrigan stared, wide eyed, as Ernest basked in the noise. The sound faded away and he lowered his arms to his sides.
“Let’s start-” he began before being cut off by the same ringing bells. He made a face at the sky, halfway between a disappointed English teacher’s stare and an irritated teenager’s eyeroll, and reached into one of his jacket’s pockets. After digging around for a bit, he pulled out a phone that looked cheaper than Nixie’s little brother’s. The screen lit up as he tapped at it, his expression devolving into a frown.
“Do you two know how to turn the alarm off?” he grumbled, passing his phone over.
“Yeah…” Morrigan murmured, nodding. She flicked the screen to get the password entry keypad up. “Can you enter your password?”
“Of course…” he tapped it in.
“Thanks,” she said, flicking to the alarms tab and pressing ‘stop’. The dinging din finally stopped and Morrigan gave the phone back to Ernest.
“Thank you,” he huffed, putting it back in his pocket, “I still can’t figure that thing out.
“Now, on with the tour! Let’s start here. Have either of you noticed the statue of a cat” -he pointed- “on that windowsill?”
“No,” Nixie said, blinking. They could barely make out the shadowy shape that Ernest was pointing at.
“Let’s get a closer look.” He strode over to the low wall and leaned over slightly. Nixie and Morrigan quickly walked up beside him to look.
A little silhouette, cloaked by the nighttime darkness, stood on a tiny sandstone block on the windowsill. From up close it was clearly distinguishable as an animal. It was frozen in the act of sneaking across the windowsill, staring curiously at the person who caught it.
“That’s Trim, the first cat to circumnavigate Australia,” Ernest said, “He travelled with” -he gestured to the bigger statue- “that handsome guy. Matthew Flinders. On a voyage to England, they stopped at a French colony on Mauritius. At the time, France and England were at war,”
“Did they get into a battle?” Nixie asked.
“No. They were put under house arrest,” he murmured, “Trim was allowed to leave and wander around. One day he didn’t come back,”
“Oh,” Morrigan winced, hugging the doll she brought. Ernest just kept staring at the back of Matthew Flinders’ statue. Nixie opened and closed their mouth, realising that they had been about to tell him that they were sorry for his loss. Ernest shrugged.
“If you two are ready for the rest of the tour, the entrance to the library is this way,” he said, turning back to them and gesturing to the left, “Paranormal adventures await!”
Ernest scrabbled at the lock of the library’s door with the key. Morrigan turned her head around, clutching her plush doll to her chest. Nixie was standing behind Ernest with their hands in the pockets of their jeans.
“There,” Ernest smiled. He pushed the door open and stood back. “Guests first,”
Morrigan took three steps inside then promptly forgot about walking.
The entrance area was cast in a soft golden light by half-spheres suspended from the ceiling. Part of the floor was roped off to isolate an intricate map drawn onto the tiles. Uneven lines ran parallel to each other from the left and right of it. Indoor pillars stretched upward, ending when they touched the ceiling, where they opened like stone flowers. Signs advertising exhibits stood by staircases. Doors revealed peeks of what was behind them through panes of polished glass. Reaching across a balcony, a bronze railing twisted like wrought iron and proudly displayed a beautiful clock. Swirling plaster carvings crept across the ceiling and accentuated the pillars and skylight.
“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” Ernest said, “I never saw anything like this when I was your age,”
“Really?” Morrigan murmured. Her gaze was still fixed on the room. A small movement dragged it over to Nixie, who had shifted their left arm to hug their right. Their eyes glittered like fairy lights as they read a quote carved onto the wall. Morrigan nudged their hand with hers before lacing her fingers around it. Nixie smiled, gently squeezing Morrigan’s hand. She didn’t look away.
“Yeah,” Ernest laughed, “I was reading adventure novels and dreaming of a life like the ones I read about,”
“What was your favourite book?” Nixie asked.
He grinned. “Robinson Crusoe. It’s old now, but I still love it. I haven’t read it in a while though,” his voice took on a dramatic spooky tone like a storyteller’s. “I would’ve, but it’s missing from the library,”
After speaking, he paused for a moment. His smile slowly drooped.
“Really?” Morrigan frowned.
“Every single copy,” he admitted dully, “A few books have just… disappeared. No trace and nothing on any cameras. My Love Must Wait, Terra Australis, Adventures on Leaky Ships…”
“Vanished into thin air,” Morrigan whispered, “That’s awful,”
Ernest nodded, “All through the library, artefacts have been moved around but no one knows who did it. Inexplicable noises that-”
A creak split the quiet atmosphere from somewhere just out of sight. The two teenagers whipped around and their guide swiftly followed suit.
"What was that?!" Nixie hissed.
Morrigan huffed a small nervous laugh. "I don't know,"
"I'll see what it is," Ernest said, starting forward. Nixie and Morrigan huddled closer together as he strode around a corner. Morrigan's doll was squished by a constricting hug and her long blond hair fell over its face. Nixie laid an arm around her back. They both stood still, looking at the place their guide had gone. Morrigan felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise like the fur of a spooked cat and a chill deliberately, maliciously, ran down her spine. It was the same feeling as the one that let her instinctively know, when she was playing a horror game, that the monster was right behind her. Normally she relished the feeling. Now, when it was heightened by a cold pressure in her chest, WHEN SHE WASN’T PLAYING A GAME…
She turned. Slowly. Cautiously.
She saw the end of the room vanish into shadow.
She felt Nixie move their arm away and clutch her hand.
She heard a quiet scrape.
She saw a pair of fiery eyes open and narrow, glaring.
Before Morrigan could blink a massive dark jaw opened in the shadows and it rushed forwards. It didn't crawl or walk or slither; the disembodied ‘face’ moved without need for limbs.
Morrigan spun with her lover and ran. No matter how many times they tripped over each other, they didn't let go. Morrigan didn’t know if she was screaming. She could only feel the tiles under her boots, Nixie’s hand clinging to hers, her jaw opening wide to try to make a sound, a dryness in her mouth and throat. She could only hear the thuds of her and Nixie’s feet, quick, daring breaths and the horrifying RASP that it made, always seeming to be from right behind them…!
Nixie sprinted, dragging Morrigan or being dragged by Morrigan, dashing up and down staircases and between bookshelves. They were too busy focusing on the giant shadow monster relentlessly chasing them with its gaping black hole of a mouth and twin suns for eyes. When they dared to peek behind them, all they saw was its shadowy mass too close to them. It wasn’t incredibly fast. That didn’t matter though, Nixie realised as a chilling pressure formed in their chest. It had one huge advantage over the two sprinting teenagers.
Endurance.
Its lungs didn’t scream and cry for air. Its heart didn’t beat so fast that it thought it would explode. Its mouth didn’t gum up or go so dry that it tried and failed to suck moisture out of the air. Its eyes didn’t sting or blur. Its legs and arms and feet and hands didn’t ache. Its every atom wasn’t in absolute and utter agony.
“MORRIGAN!” Nixie cried, “If w-we’re going-g to d-die, then…”
Thud thud thud thud
Raaaaaasssp
“We’re… NOT… going… to die! I w-won’t let us!” Morrigan snarled. They ran past study tables and desks, hand in hand.
“I’m s-sorry for bringing you-ou here! If I hadn-n’t, we w-w-wouldn’t be…” whimpered Nixie.
“Save... breath! Please!” Morrigan begged, pulling Nixie along, “Save it… so we can… get out of here!”
As they sprinted around the twelfth identical balcony corner, Nixie snuck a peek behind them and the monster was right there, filling their entire vision with an inky void that looked like a death beyond death. A portal to the deepest pit of hell, to Tartarus itself. It screamed of decades of restless wandering and searching but never finding, never slowing, and Nixie stumbled, dragging Morrigan down with them. Nixie took in a ragged breath, curled on the floor, and Morrigan rolled over to them and tackled them into a hug. Both teenagers braced for impact, hoping that whatever the monster did when it had them was quick.
…..
There was a light flapping noise from all around them.
They were brushed by dozens of… paper scraps, Nixie realised. They tentatively uncurled and looked around warily.
The fragments were gently flittering down like butterflies landing on flowers.
Nixie reached out a shaking hand, still shot through with the adrenaline left over from the chase, and picked one up. It was covered in writing and torn on two of its three edges.
“They’re from books,” Nixie murmured, scooting over to Morrigan and holding out the scrap.
“‘…best and most illustrious of his…’” Morrigan read out, “What do the others say?”
‘This danger escaped, he sought ref’
‘ame of my Uncle Toby’s honest, kind-hearted, humble companion.’
‘I’ll chain you up;’
‘I can never speak of cats wit’
‘will his like’
‘Being a favourite w’
‘energy and elasticity of his mov’
‘e was shipw’
‘“See the vanity of that c’
‘ain of his person, especially of his snow-white’
‘hout a sentiment of regret for my po’
‘or Trim,’
Nixie stopped. Carefully, they held the last two up to their face.
“Morrigan,” they whispered, “I think I know what… or who… that shadow creature was.”
“ERNEST!” Morrigan screamed. She and Nixie ran right up to their guide and stopped, doubling over and gasping desperately for air.
“Morrigan? Nixie?” he said, turning to look at them with scrunched eyebrows, “I thought you were going to stay in the Mitchell Vestibule until I came back,”
Morrigan looked up, still out of breath. “We were, but then we were chased by a ghost,”
In the five seconds of silence that followed that explanation, Morrigan could almost hear cicadas screeching outside.
“Oh,” Ernest blinked, “Are you both alright?”
Morrigan looked at him incredulously. Okay, he was going to believe her. Huh.
“You… believe us?” Nixie asked.
“I run the ghost tour, not the ordinary library tour,” he pointed out.
“Do you know anything about the ghost?” Morrigan asked, eyes narrowed.
He held his hands up to his shoulders. “I didn’t set it loose, if that’s what you mean. I also didn’t know for sure that there was one here. I didn’t put you both in danger on purpose,”
“Ah,” Morrigan said, loosening her shoulders and straightening up.
“We think that we know who the ghost is,” Nixie admitted, taking the paper scraps out of their pockets, “It dropped these and disappeared after catching up with us,”
Nixie passed the scraps over to Ernest, who held them right up to his face to examine them. After reading the first one, his face went slack. Morrigan shifted impatiently as he read, looking around the room.
That’s how she saw one corner of the room grow dark, darker than shadows at midnight.
Raaaaaaasssp.
Ernest slowly breathed out, lowering the scraps of paper.
“Trim,” he murmured, turning to the shadow, “This isn’t like you,”
Morrigan choked a bit before remembering how to breathe again.
“You were sweet-natured, and kind, and brave and loyal,” he pleaded. With his every word, the creature was shrinking like a shadow approaching a light.
“I never forgot you,” Ernest smiled with misty eyes, “I swore I’d make monuments to you. I… didn’t get to though,”
Something small padded out of the receding darkness, a little black cat with white fur on his paws, lower jaw and chest. Trim hesitated before leaping into Ernest’s arms.
Except ‘Ernest’ probably wasn’t their guide’s real name.
“You’re that explorer guy,” Morrigan said, “The one who’s a statue,”
‘Ernest’ winced. “Matthew Flinders,”
“Right,” Morrigan snapped her fingers, “That one,”
“How on earth are you… alive, I guess?” Nixie asked, brows furrowed.
“I don’t know,” Matthew shrugged, “I just…. woke up, about a month ago, on that bench you two were sitting on. There was a full wallet in my pocket. I still haven’t figured out how or why,”
Matthew scratched Trim under his chin and he purred. Morrigan couldn’t believe that the handsome little ghost cat had been chasing them through the whole library as a massive shadow monster barely fifteen minutes ago.
“What’re you going to do now?” Nixie asked.
“Continue living, I think,” Matthew answered, “It’ll be strange and I’ll have to figure out that godforsaken ‘phone’ device, but…” -he smiled- “I think it’ll be worth it,”
A cheerful jangle sounded from his pocket and Trim shrieked, clawing his way away from it. Matthew closed his eyes, crossed himself and took his vibrating phone out of his pocket.
“Please?” he winced, holding it out to them.
“Of course,” Morrigan huffed lightly, taking it and turning the alarm off.
“Thanks,” he smiled, “That was the ‘end of tour’ alarm. Was that enough of a paranormal adventure for tonight?”
Morrigan laughed as Nixie slowly nodded. “Yeah, I think so,”
“Then the exit is this way,” Matthew grandly gestured, “I’ll see you out,”
Once Matthew closed and locked the door, he turned to them. Trim was walking behind him, rubbing his ankles and purring.
“Thank you for reuniting me with Trim,” he said, smiling sincerely.
Nixie grinned. “I’m glad we did,”
“I’ll be going now,” Matthew nodded, “Have a good day, and if you could recommend the NSW State Library ghost tour to your friends, the extra money might be able to cover the cost of the books that this little thief” -he stroked Trim- “stole. Not many people are booking it,”
“We will,” Morrigan laughed, “It sure was an experience,”
“A genuine ghost tour with a genuine ghost tour guide!” Nixie declared.
All three of them gently shook and giggled with unrestrained mirth.
“Goodbye, Nixie, Morrigan,” Ernest said, “And thank you once again,”
He picked up Trim and strode away, disappearing into the nighttime shadows. The teenagers watched him go.
“That was one heck of a date,” Morrigan smiled.
Nixie sighed. “Sorry about the whole ‘risk of death’ thing,”
“Hey,” Morrigan poked them, “You didn’t know what you were signing us up for,”
Nixie huffed, watching their breath form a little cloud.
Morrigan gasped. “Dragon smoke!”
They both took turns trying to exhale the most impressive breath, thankful that they were still breathing, until Nixie’s dad’s car pulled up at the side of the road.