Thoth let his misery wallow. Twenty years to the day his life’s work was stolen, and it was a long life to work with.
He took the photo hidden in one of his house’s desks, dusty and unfamiliar like the rest of them were.
The photo depicted a dead-ringer for Syren Eves next to a younger version of her father. Funny how a little girl could supercede his dear friend in his ability to recognize. Syren and Samson Eves were dressed in their graduation robes, absolutely thrilled. He turned it over to look at the message.
“Dear M.,” he read aloud, she always insisted on calling him by that damn initial, “Holy S***! (Don’t let our parents know we wrote that) Thank you for helping tutor both of us, and letting us use MK West’s Library. Since we’re turning 18 soon, we’ll be able to join you in the coven. Can you settle an argument for us, actually? Which is more helpful, controlling lightbulbs (and phones, and computers) or taking a punch? We have a bet going. With all our love, Syren and Samson Eves.”
Simpler times. There was so much he’d give to undo whatever he did to push her against him.
A large banging on his door pulled him out of this stupor.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Franklin. I thought you could use some supplies considering what day it is.”
He’d assumed Frank would ignore him like he had been doing the past several months. Something warmed his heart that he’d break his stubbornness, even just for a day.
Thoth opened the door, inviting Frank in. He took the only chair that could hold his size, and Thoth sat across from him.
“What do you offer me?” Thoth asked.
Franklin presented a to-go coffee, and a to-go box from their favorite diner.
“Waffles?”
Franklin nodded.
“Thank you, Franklin.”
The sweetness of the supposed coffee would make a normal person balk, but Thoth had always preferred such things in excess. Alcohol could not distract his mind for long, if at all, but sweetness could delight him.
“Would you like to stay for a chess game? I can put these in the fridge.” he lifted the box off of his table, which had the board ready to go.
Franklin looked at the table mournfully.
Thoth anticipated Franklin’s “I don’t think it’s a good idea”.
“We used to play often.”
“Before you said it.”
“You talk like it’s a horrible thing to care for you,” Thoth complained, “You hold Charmer close.”
“She’s different. I don’t—she doesn’t—we…” Frank looked up as if searching for an answer in the rafters, “She found me at a low point in my life, when I needed somebody, and she was the same way. She has no family on Earth.”
“I lost my whole family as well.”
“You have the Eves. They may not be related by blood, but they are family to you, no matter how hard you try to pull away from this new generation.”
Franklin was his usual pile of excuses. Thoth knew there was no way to prevent it.
“I understand,” Thoth said, “I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable around me. Whatever my other feelings may be, you are my dearest friend, and I’d hate to lose another due to my behavior.”
Franklin watched him, and Thoth attempted to make his appearance more pitiable, not that a man sitting alone in his house with a robe on was difficult to make as such.
Franklin picked up a pawn.
“Last time we spoke, we asked each other what piece each of our companions were.”
“The Eves were the king,” Thoth admitted, “Valuable but limited.”
“Drake was a tower,” Franklin took one and moved it forward, “Direct and Strong.”
“I believe Young Master Tyrain much the same,” Thoth said, taking the matching black piece and bringing it next to the one Franklin placed.
Franklin nodded.
“Charmer is a queen, the most capable piece on the board.” Franklin placed the piece dead center.
“Miss Fayner may become much the same,” Thoth said, “Given the demon incident, and Charmer mentioned some special things about the way Bobbi acted around the Raosi and the griffon—were you aware of the Raosi, Franklin?”
Franklin focused more on the pieces.
“Charmer and I told each other much of our lives before we met. I doubt she’d forgive me if I relayed any of hers.”
“Of course.”
Franklin grabbed a knight, and placed it.
“Who is that?” Thoth asked.
“That is Miss Fayner, different rules, harder to plan for, not to mention her skill with animals.”
Thoth nodded. It wasn’t a bad parallel.
“I believe this one best represents myself.” he placed a bishop, “Not any more powerful, but rather satisfying to deal with.”
“And plenty hard to notice if they don’t want you to.”
Thoth nodded.
Franklin took the pawn.
“Expendable, far less valuable, like myself.”
Thoth held himself back from comment this time.
“But also potential,” he pulled another one out to match, “Young Ms. Eves is likely a pawn as well.”
He could see the distant discomfort as Franklin was forced to accept the semi-compliment.
“Assuming she survives long enough,” Frank added.
Thoth gave a wry smile.
“I have missed our talks. Did any of the students have—”
Another knock on the door interrupted Thoth’s attempt at smalltalk.
“I should go,” Franklin said, “I never planned on staying here for very long.”
“Please,” Thoth begged as Franklin walked out through the door, revealing Syren and Bobbi together as the former pulled the latter inside.
“Hello, Thoth,” Syren greeted, “We need to talk to you.”
“Whyfor?” Thoth asked.
“Why not?” Syren replied, “It’s Bobbi’s thing.”
“I think I’m something,” Bobbi admitted.
“Stop the presses.”
“I think I need help figuring out what that something is,” she explained, “And everyone seems to think you’re the best authority.”
“I would have gone to Singe before me. As a mage, he’s probably learned far more about the high races than I have.”
“We tried that,” Syren said, “He knows Fey, Demons, and Changelings. He knows there’s more, but not the details.”
Thoth looked from one girl to the other.
“I only just learned of the Raosi around the same time you did, Ms. Fayner, and beyond that my knowledge isn’t expansive. I’m a bit preoccupied with Earthly affairs.”
“Of course,” Bobbi said, “It didn’t seem like a probable lead anyways. Let’s leave him alone, Syren.”
“Why don’t you show her the secret library?” Syren asked.
“Secret library?” Bobbi asked.
Thoth watched both the girls. They’d planned on extending an offer to Bobbi after the school year ended, but if she wanted knowledge…
“You’ve known we’re hiding something here, Bobbi,” Thoth began.
Bobbi nodded.
“If you want access to our resources, some of which we’ve already expended keeping you out of harm’s way, we require an exchange.”
“An exchange?”
“Loyalty.” Thoth said, “Our small circle was once much larger, but we were betrayed by forces within. I need proof you can be trusted, consider it collateral on our assistance.”
“What kind of collateral?” Bobbi asked, eyes flitting about in search of a threat.
“A secret you want kept from public eye, something we can hold over you to keep your mouth quiet in the future. In exchange you will have ours, and freer access to our resources.”
“So I need to give you blackmail to access this secret library.”
“Knowledge for knowledge, let’s call it,” Thoth countered, “Syren isn’t technically a member, so you can have her stand outside for privacy.”
“Can I ask for yours first?” Bobbi asked.
“Not with expectation for me to offer it. I’ve been burned before.”
Bobbi nodded.
“Okay.”
She took her sweater off, revealing a tank-top underneath. The skin she now showed was dappled with freckles, an impressive feat given how rarely she appeared during the day.
“I’m not sure the appearance of your arms is enough of a secret to warrant trust.”
Slowly. Just behind and slightly above her shoulders, Thoth began to see a rainbowed pattern, like Bobbi had made prisms appear from her back.
“Are those wings?” Syren asked.
Bobbi nodded, then the wings went back down and she pulled her sweater back on.
“Is that enough of a secret?”
Thoth nodded. He had hoped to learn about her interaction with the demon, but this was possibly more fascinating.
“May I have yours now?” she asked.
Thoth looked at Syren. The girl shouldn’t be blamed for the sins of her namesake, and she already knew some of Thoth’s history. He still had the right to refuse someone who wasn’t admitted yet.
“As said before Syren isn’t a member yet, so I will tell you when she leaves.”
“I turned eighteen two months ago. Everyone forgot because it was right after the dream breaking incident.”
That couldn’t be right. Syren had joined them in February of…
“Huh, so you are of age. Why haven’t you asked about it?”
“Mom and Dad said that’s your job.”
True, it was his job to recruit, but he didn’t think it was his job to swear in someone whose family had been involved for so long.
“Then what is your collateral, Ms. Eves?”
Syren took a handful of the chess pieces from the table, holding her palm flat beneath them as they sank into it, disappearing. She then put her other hand face down just above the table as one by one, each of the pieces fell out.
“Impressive parlor trick.”
“I’ve hit puberty,” Syren said, “I haven’t told my parents. I don’t want to be locked inside.”
“You seem surprisingly capable for someone falling apart,” Thoth noted, “Obviously there’s an expiration date on this secret, but the fact you’re a Changeling is damning enough.”
Syren nodded.
“Well I suppose it is my turn to explain. Sit down, girls.”
Syren took the chair proper and Bobbi sat comfortably on the arm of it.
“My people have been called many things over the years: heroes, gods, but we generally prefer Champions.”
“That doesn’t sound pretentious,” Bobbi commented.
“I didn’t have much say in the name,” Thoth confided.
“I am over 2 millennia old. I remember the time before Rhacotis became Alexandria, though not well.”
“You’re Egyptian?” Bobbi asked.
Thoth nodded.
“You didn’t think I called myself Thoth for no reason, did you?”
“I assumed it had to do with the librarian thing,” Bobbi said.
“I’ve been a librarian for a long time. Champions don’t tend to die the normal way. We heal from most injuries. The only thing that kills us fast enough is fire.”
Bobbi nodded.
“Fire could kill you?” Syren asked, “And you live in Arizona?”
“It’s not like the risk is nonexistent, and this environment suits me. I much prefer it dry.”
Bobbi and Syren eyed each other with certain agreement.
“So you predate Alexander the great,” Bobbi said, “And you can’t really die. Aside from apparent familiarity, why are you here?”
“Centuries into my life, I lost my home, and my people. There are other champions of course, different pockets of us across the globe, but those people were mine.”
The girls scrutinized him, probably coming up with better questions.
“That’s why you founded the coven,” Syren said, “To keep others' homes from being destroyed like yours.”
Thoth nodded.
“That’s where I met your ancestors,” he told her, “Kindred spirits who recorded their lives insistently.”
“So we’re part of the coven now?” Bobbi asked.
“No,” Thoth said, “The coven was destroyed from within, a greater faction stole the name and most of our resources, so we tend to the school and hope to build our numbers with trustworthy individuals.”
“And the secrets are accountability,” Bobbi concluded, “Should we go to the library now?”
Thoth nodded.
“Posthaste.”
Thoth kept the shelves away from the walls. He didn’t like the walls being closed off.
“Please don’t tell me we have to pull a specific book,” Bobbi said, “That’s so unsafe.”
“Of course not,” Thoth said, “Though the idea is tempting, cartoon and horror media have served to make it too obvious for my secrets.”
He grabbed a few volumes off the shelves to explain.
“It’s a weight latch, and it has to be exact.”
He set his gathered books on the desk, and nothing happened.
“How exact?” Bobbi asked.
Thoth lifted the books again.
“Franny and Zooey,” he said, before finding the novella and setting it on top of the stack with a barely audible click.
“You just know the weight of things?” Bobbi asked.
“You’d be surprised what skills you pick up over the centuries.”
He walked her over to the desk where there was now an open hatch.
“Okay…” Bobbi said.
“I used to be able to just click it open from here, but the connection wore out, now it’s always the weight latch.”
“That’s comforting,” Bobbi said as she followed him down. He waited for her to move past him before closing the door.
“We can open it manually from inside,” Thoth said.
“Thanks for letting me know,” Bobbi said.
They walked the short corridor until they reached a small space barely fitting Thoth’s height, with a small number of bookshelves.
“So why is this section of the library secret?” Bobbi asked, pacing between the sparse shelves.
“Because they’re not relevant to most of the student body, and I don’t trust the security of any of our homes.”
Bobbi grabbed a book off one of the shelves, a look of fear coming upon her as she looked past the spine. She presented the unreadable charred remains of a book-cover to Thoth.
“This is burned.”
“Still readable, mostly,” Thoth assured her, “The separation wasn’t a peaceful one, as you might imagine.”
“They burned your library?” Bobbi asked.
“Would have burned me as well were it not for Syren the elder’s intervention.”
“But why?” Bobbi asked.
“Because I had something they wanted, and I wasn’t going to give it willingly. They only saw one possible solution to this dilemma.”
“You’re shitting me,” Bobbi said.
“I wish I wasn’t, but we all bear the results of that schism.”
Bobbi nodded, pacing through the books.
“The Seven High Races; this looks promising.”
“Perhaps, but the names are liable to change depending on the language. What English-speakers call demons and angels, Arabic texts often called djinn, and Celts often called fey, but researchers apply each of those to very different races.”
“So whatever that calls me may not be what my people call themselves?”
Thoth nodded.
“I came down here to check on the details of the Raosi Charmer mentioned, and discovered that book calls them Chaotica, which sounds like some poorly thought out pulp villain.”
“Okay,” Bobbi said, “Who has wings?”
“Angels, for one, but they aren’t in that book.”
“Of course they aren’t,” Bobbi said, “And my wings aren’t always visible, so it could be something the author missed.”
“Just so,” Thoth said, “I knew you could do it.”
Bobbi rolled her eyes, taking a seat and focusing on her book.
Thoth grabbed the copy of Frankenstein that Frank had annotated for him shortly after they met and started reading.
Before he could get to the point of creation, something dropped from Bobbi’s book. She grabbed it quickly and presented it.
“I guess Syren knows the book trick,” Bobbi said, handing it to him.
“What makes you say that?” Syren was only mildly aware that the library existed because Thoth gave her father one of the books when she was in 5th grade.
“It says she wrote it, has her signature.”
Thoth took the note, immediately sure of who it came from.
“When did she have the time for this?”
If it had been in the book when he’d given it to Samson, then surely he would have commented on it, and Syren the younger didn’t insistently call him M. How he’d missed it before, he had no clue.
“Someone breached the library.”
“What?” Bobbi asked.
“Years ago, and with intent to drop a message, not to steal anything, thankfully.”
“So this isn’t Syren’s work?” Bobbi asked.
“It is Syren’s work, just not our Syren.”
“There’s two Syrens?”
“Exactly. Syren the elder is Samson Eves’ twin sister. I haven’t seen her in twenty years, but approximately eight years ago, she must have snuck in and placed this for when I inevitably came back to it. She always was clever.”
“Did she go on some worldwide trip like Solomon?” Bobbi asked.
“Maybe, I didn’t have much luck tracking her after she burned down the library.”
“She what?”
“Private things, not so significant anymore.”
Thoth finally read through the message.
M.
I still don’t think you’re right (Well, you were right about some things), but the Coven has become concerning. I didn’t think it would come to this, but I’m a threat now. The Coven’s definition of Superhuman has always been loose, but it’s always been endangered. The council doesn’t look like that much anymore. Your name’s come up, and Charmer’s, and you’re connected to a vampire now (This is getting long isn’t it).
Cut your losses, run. Take my brother with you. You’ve disappeared often enough, it shouldn’t be too much trouble.
—Syren Eves I (Yeah, I noticed my little doppelganger)
P.S. Maybe humans aren’t a special problem.
Thoth crumpled up the note.
“Nothing significant anymore.”
“Are you okay?” Bobbi asked.
“Today is a painful anniversary, and the reminders of what came before it aren’t always pleasant. I know a little more of my enemy now, but only a little. Did any of the High Races match a description of yourself?”
Bobbi shrugged.
“The message kind of overtook my research. What does she mean about humans being a special problem?”
“Philosophical difference,” Thoth explained, “Maybe she came around to my views, but I doubt it. Do you care if I leave you alone for a moment?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I can get out without assistance.”
“I’ll explain the mechanisms and you can come down here whenever you like with Drake.”
“Why not Singe?” Bobbi asked.
“Singe refused membership into our little circle. I cannot blame him. Let’s go.”
“Look what I found!” Solomon yelled.
“I found it!” Syren corrected, running into Solomon, who’d stopped in front of their mother.
Their mother took the photo from Solomon, her expression less than pleased.
“Samson!” she yelled.
“Yes, my dear,” their father said with a leisurely stroll.
“Look what your children found.”
He took the photo from his wife’s hands, expression slightly mournful.
“I suppose it’s time to explain.”
He moved the children over to the sitting room.
“Syren is adopted, yes, but that’s not the whole story.”
“Is the girl in the photo with you her real mom?” Solomon asked.
“No,” their mother said, coldly.
“That is my sister,” father explained, “Your Aunt Syren. She left before you could remember, Solomon.”
“Am I your sister?” Syren asked.
“No,” their mother said, finally a shred of mirth in her tone.
“Syren is a changeling,” their father explained, “A race of shapeshifters. While young, they imprint on a person, taking a form that reminds them of someone significant that they’ve lost. It’s why their name comes up in reference to replaced children often. I am who Syren imprinted on. The form she took was that of your Aunt.”
“I’m not human?” Syren asked.
“No,” their father said.
“But neither is Ms. Carson,” their mother added, “And we still trust her to care for the school.”
Syren didn’t care.
“Am I still your daughter?”
“Of course,” her parents insisted.
“After all, you’re my little Octopus.” her father ruffled the hair on her head.
“Oh,” Syren realized, “Because an octopus can change the way they look.”
“Bingo!”
“Are there other changelings?” Syren asked.
“Not around,” her mother said, “But you’ll likely meet one, eventually.”
Thoth has one of the clearest voices of any characters I've written, which is to say he sounds like someone who already exists. I could tell you, but I'd rather, dear reader, have you read him in your own way.