Chapter 12

No one knew exactly what had happened in town last night, other than that sometime after midnight, a swarm of shades descended on the town center. All of the surrounding businesses had been empty, except the B&B around the corner from the ice cream shop. The guests and owner had been woken by the commotion, but by then, almost all the lights had gone out and no one wanted to venture outside.

James and Hazel spent the whole day putting up new lights with the help of Parker and the mayor, Eleanor Ashley. The three of them often helped the mayor with supernatural concerns. James had no interest in joining the local government, but he still wanted to give back to the town as much as he could, even when the jobs weren't strictly electrical business. Hazel and Parker were the same.

Even with the extra help, reinstalling all the lights was too big of a job to complete before nightfall. Gray Electrical didn't even have enough stock to finish reinstalling everything. But it wasn't the end of the world. Some light was better than none until they could finish things off.

"What if they come back tonight?" James asked the others as they watched the sun go down from the diner. Eli was there too and had been supplying them with hot coffee all day.

Eleanor, a woman in her mid-forties with a pixy cut, grimaced out the window. "You're right. They very well could come back. We might need to ward the lights."

"I can cast a couple of wards tonight." Parker rubbed his stubble-lined jaw as he weighed this up. "But I don't think I have enough energy left for more than that."

"I'd appreciate it." The mayor nodded at him gratefully. "If you could do one on either side of the street, that would be best."

"But why are shades suddenly attacking lights when they've never done anything like this before?" Hazel tore open a sugar packet like it had offended her, letting the contents fall into her mug. She tended to get frustrated when she was tired, something James could understand. They'd all had a long day.

"I don't know." Eleanor leaned back in the booth with a tired sigh, her gaze focused on Hazel. "The ice cream shop incident could have been a fluke on its own, but what happened last night feels like another new shift in shade behavior. I'll check the town records in case there's been anything like this before. See if there's anything helpful."

Not that he wanted to add to the mayor's problems, but James figured he needed to tell her about the shades attacking him beneath Storm House. He relayed the story briefly. Eleanor didn't look particularly pleased to hear it.

"It wasn't quite like what happened to Eli," James assured her. "I don't know if they intended serious harm, but a second unprovoked incident isn't great."

"No." The furrow in the mayor's brow deepened. "Their aggression seems to be escalating all around. It might pay for me to call a few people. See if any other towns like ours are experiencing strange shade activity."

James wasn't sure what was more worrying: their problem being unique and completely unprecedented or a part of something changing on a much larger scale.

"You'll keep us updated?" Parker asked.

"Of course." Eleanor nodded before getting up from the booth. "And let me know if you three need anything more for the lights."

The next morning, James was worn out before he got to work. There were too many questions on his mind, swirling endlessly and distracting him from simple tasks, like not burning his toast.

He managed to call a tow truck in Apple Valley to retrieve his vehicle and drop it off at Gray Electrical to be refilled. The person on the other end of the line promised he'd have it back by midday. James was glad he'd thought to push his truck down the driveway and out the gate before leaving Sebastian's yesterday so the tow company wouldn't have to deal with Storm House.

James walked to work. It wasn't far. He lived on the southern end of town and enjoyed making his way through the familiar streets. The fall colors were in full swing, and he was pleased to note that none of the new lights in the town center had been smashed the previous night.

Hazel was already at work when James arrived. He went straight for the coffee and grabbed one of the larger mugs, wondering why the shades had been so destructive the other night and not last night. Not that he was complaining about last night's inactivity.

James took his coffee to his desk and began putting through an order for more shade-lights. "Something weird happened out at Storm House the night before last. Maybe even around the same time the shades were destroying things in town."

Hazel paused as she fixed herself a second coffee. "What do you mean?"

James explained how shades had swarmed Sebastian in the middle of the night and how the house seemed to be some sort of energy sink. "I have no idea what's going on out there."

He frowned at his coffee, unable to shake a renewed worry for Sebastian. What if something had happened again last night while Sebastian was alone? There wasn't even a way for James to call and check on him.

Half of James was annoyed by his concern. Sebastian wasn't being honest and was toying with him to some extent. He didn't want to worry about someone who was playing games, but at the same time, he still suspected something could be going on with Sebastian's mental state. He didn't know how much that might be influencing his behavior.

James couldn't stop thinking about the books. Were they nothing, or was it similar to the way Sebastian had waited for James to figure out the energy-draining issue? He'd given James that creepy stare in both instances.

Hazel returned to her desk, taking a seat with her fresh coffee. "Is there any point rewiring the house if the property will just suck up the energy?"

"I don't know." James set his mug down, feeling every bit of his exhaustion. "I've got to figure out what's causing it first."

Hazel wrinkled her nose. "Why's that your job?"

"I said I'd help."

"But it doesn't sound like Sebastian is helping himself. It's his problem, not yours. I know you can't resist taking care of everyone, but if someone's going to return your kindness by messing you around, they don't deserve it."

James shifted in his seat. "I don't think it's that simple."

Hazel eyed him more closely. "Why?"

James hadn't told her everything. He hadn't mentioned how he felt about Sebastian or how he wondered if some of Sebastian's actions could be due to social phobia or some other mental health condition. He didn't know how to explain to Hazel the bone-deep feeling he had that there was more to the situation than he understood. Somehow, understanding Sebastian felt key to all of it.

James fixed Hazel with a stern look. "People who are easy to deal with aren't the only ones who deserve help."

She put her coffee down. "That wasn't what I meant. I just don't want someone taking advantage of your good nature."

"Good nature," he scoffed. People acted like the favors he did for others were a big deal when they weren't. It was basic courtesy, and yes, he was going beyond that for Sebastian, but he didn't think Sebastian was taking advantage.

James supposed he could explain to Hazel that he cared for Sebastian, that liking him was part of the reason he didn't want to let this go. But he didn't. He wanted to keep that detail to himself since he was still determined to fight off his feelings as much as possible.

He was already too attached. He didn't need to make it worse.

They left the conversation there and got to work. James was restless all morning. He wanted to check that nothing had happened with the shades at Storm House and hated that Sebastian had no way to call for help if he needed it.

The more James brooded over everything to do with Sebastian, the more the books seemed like something. There had to be a reason they kept appearing in places he couldn't help noticing them.

He was thinking in circles, which was frustrating. James couldn't figure out the significance of the books. Maybe there was none. He wasn't sure if the only reason he wanted there to be more to it was to prove Sebastian wasn't messing with him for no reason.

By lunch, James couldn't take it. Maybe he was overthinking. What could the books possibly mean and why the hell wouldn't Sebastian just tell him? But Sebastian had always done things his own unfathomable way. What if the books were some kind of code? Using a code seemed ridiculous, but so was the rest of the situation.

James walked to the library instead of eating lunch with Hazel. He didn't remember The Magical Tales in much detail and wondered if taking a closer look at them would help.

The library was an old whitewashed building next to the town hall on the opposite side of the circle from Moonlight Diner. Mila Lopez, the librarian, was at her desk just inside the entrance. She was in her early sixties and had run the library most of James's life.

Her silver hair was in its familiar bun, glasses perched on the end of her nose. She beamed at him as he entered. "James."

"Ms. Lopez, how are you?" He always felt like a kid when he saw her. The same went for any of his old elementary school teachers who still lived in town.

She took off her reading glasses, letting them hang from the beaded chain around her neck. "I'm well. Can't say I'm happy with all the trouble in town though."

"Neither am I." James hesitated, not wanting to get sucked into a long chat about shades right then. "Do you have copies of The Magical Tales I could look at?"

Mila's eyes widened. "That's an odd choice, but sure. They're back here." She got up and led him to the children's section.

They walked through the quiet library, no one else in sight.

"Do you remember Sebastian Storm?" James asked as Mila pulled two books from a shelf.

"Of course." She gave him a look like he should have known better than to ask. Mila knew everyone. "He was such a sweet boy."

"Was he?"

Mila's look turned stern as she handed James the books. "It shouldn't come as a surprise. But then, no one seemed very interested in getting to know Sebastian. Kids can be so cruel sometimes. I'd have thought you'd have realized by now—with all the wisdom from your advanced years—there was nothing too unusual about Sebastian. He was just lonely."

James didn't know what to say. He felt scolded, and like he probably deserved it. But he hadn't been cruel to Sebastian growing up, and he didn't think any of the other kids had been either. Maybe he was wrong. It wasn't like he knew everything about everyone, or maybe excluding Sebastian was the kind of cruelty Mila meant.

"There wasn't any particular reason he and I weren't friends." James couldn't help sounding defensive. "There were plenty of kids I didn't hang out with."

"True." Mila gave James an assessing sweep of her eyes. "It's not up to you to look out for everyone. That's not what I'm saying. It's just interesting when everyone seems to avoid the same person. I always wondered if it was hard for Sebastian, only living here off and on. It wasn't the same for him as it was for the kids who really grew up here. He spent a lot of time with me in the library during the summer. His uncle didn't drive, so I'd go pick him up and bring him to town."

"Really?" James set the books on a nearby table.

Mila nodded, a sad smile turning her lips. "I grew up with Stephen, of course. He had a bit of a funny turn around the time I moved back to Moonlight Falls to look after the library, and we were never close after that. Not like we had been when we were young. But I was happy to help look after Sebastian." She turned away, unnecessarily straightening a few books on the shelf.

It seemed strange that the librarian would have been looking after Sebastian at all. Though Mila seemed almost wistful, like maybe Stephen had been important to her, so maybe her involvement in Sebastian's life hadn't been anything out of the ordinary.

Before James could come up with a reply, Mila continued, "I was surprised when Sebastian came back. Well, it's never a total surprise when one of us comes home, but I hadn't expected him back so soon."

"Do you know why he came back?"

Mila frowned. "Stephen was sick. Sebastian was taking care of him. I didn't see him much during that time. No one even told me Stephen had passed away until months after."

"I'm sorry." James could see how much this still hurt her by the way her features tightened to temper her expression.

Mila gave a tiny shake of her head, picked up her glasses, and put them on, only to look over the top of them. "Nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn't have expected anything from a man I hadn't been friends with since high school. Or from his family. Even if he did take me to prom." She rolled her eyes, but James didn't quite buy into her dismissal.

"Sebastian should have told you Stephen passed away."

"He probably wasn't thinking about his old babysitter in his own grief. Which is fair enough. Though it would be nice if he'd come by and see me now."

"He doesn't come into town, so I don't think it's personal," James offered.

Mila's brow furrowed. "No, you're right. It must run in the family."

"What must?" James asked, confused.

"Whatever makes the Storms fold in on themselves and hide from everyone. I tried to get Stephen to see someone years ago. I told him there's nothing wrong with seeking help, but he was very touchy about mental health. Said he was fine and didn't have to interact with people if he didn't want to." Mila removed her glasses and let them hang around her neck once more. "I stopped bringing it up. He was right, really. It wasn't my business. He was good to Sebastian, and there wasn't any serious cause for concern. I just couldn't let go of who he used to be, I suppose."

An uneasy feeling crept up on James. "People change, but it sounds more complicated than that."

"Maybe. It hardly matters now, does it?" She flicked her wrist like she was shooing the past away. "Why the sudden interest in The Magical Tales?"

"I'm not sure." James took a seat at the table and cracked open the first book. "I don't remember them that well. Did Sebastian like these books when he was young?"

Mila gave him a funny look. "I don't think so."

She left him to it.

James was less sure about the books being some sort of clue after their conversation. He should have been researching dead zones and energy draining, not trying to decipher Sebastian's behavior. But he couldn't let the books go. Sebastian's intense stare haunted his thoughts.

This version of The Magical Tales was split into two volumes, not seven like Sebastian's copies. His would have two stories per book, while these had seven each. James scanned the table of contents. The titles in the first volume didn't prove illuminating.

There was a story about children lost in the woods, finding their way home via magic. Another story was about a prince of light concurring shades that—as James remembered—was very heavy-handed with its metaphors and not a good depiction of the realities of shades. There was a story about a girl put to sleep for a thousand years for reasons James couldn't recall, and one about how skipping school would turn you to stone. They were all like that. Morality tales as Sebastian had called them.

None of the stories had to do with energy draining, but they had been written before electricity was invented. Still, nothing seemed remotely related to Storm House or its mysteries.

James tried to look at things from a different perspective. Sebastian hadn't had all the volumes. Maybe that meant something.

The last story on the first table of contents—which would have been missing from Sebastian's collection as it would have been in his fourth volume—was about a talking frog. That could hardly be relevant.

James opened the second book, feeling like he was looking for an explanation that didn't exist. The first story listed was Little William's Voice. It would also have been in Sebastian's missing volume. Seeing the title, James was reminded how he'd liked this story even less than the others when he was a kid. It was about a boy whose tongue had been bound for lying, making it impossible for him to speak. James had always thought the punishment was unreasonably cruel and had avoided the unpleasant tale after hearing it only once.

He scanned the rest of the titles, but none led to a lightbulb moment. Maybe skimming the stories would help. He started with Little William's Voice since he remembered it the least.

Reading the story now, James found he agreed with his younger self. It was awful. The poor kid in the tale couldn't even use written words to communicate after the tongue-binding spell had been cast on him. He was forced to try and act out what he wanted to say and trick people into figuring out what was wrong with him.

James stopped, putting the book down. Sebastian had basically tricked him into figuring out the house was sucking up any and all power. Was he physically unable to tell James the problem? Had someone bound him to secrecy? The spell in the tale had prevented the boy from talking at all, but binding secrets was a more common use for that kind of dark magic in the real world.

If James was right, then someone had performed a blood-and-bone ritual on Sebastian. He thought of the teeth they'd found in the house. The Storms dabbled in that sort of magic, or at least some of them had. It wasn't outrageous to think Sebastian had been forced to keep a secret, even if that sort of dark magic was illegal and rarely seen these days.

What else was Sebastian being forced to hide? Did he know why the house was sucking up energy? He must. This had to be it. Being bound to silence explained so much of Sebastian's behavior. His intense stares, his whooping celebration when James's truck didn't start. It could even be the reason he couldn't explain going outside in the middle of the night.

James jumped up from his chair. He had to talk to Sebastian. But—if James was right—that wouldn't be possible without first breaking the secret-binding spell. Sebastian would most likely be prevented from saying someone had bound his tongue in the first place. Just like the boy in the story, he probably couldn't directly communicate that anything was wrong.

His heart pounded as he returned The Magical Tales to the shelf and walked to the second floor of the library, where the magical texts were kept.

Any blood-and-bone magic that took away autonomy or free will was illegal. There would be no books explaining how to bind a secret, but hopefully, there would be information on releasing someone from that kind of magic.

James knew he could report what he suspected and get help that way, but he hesitated. He didn't want to call in outsiders. At least not yet. Investigating any illegal magic cast on Sebastian would take time, and Sebastian might not want too many people involved. He seemed to have chosen James to help, and James wasn't going to let him down.

This job really wasn't for an electrician, but Sebastian must have selected him for a reason.

He pulled magical theory books from the shelves and began reading about counter magic and reversing blood-and-bone spells. At last, he found a section on releasing secrets bound in blood. James checked the internet as well, cross-referencing different unbinding spells, and noting anything that might be useful on a scrap of paper.

Once he was confident he had what he needed, James put all the books away, except for the one that specifically talked about countering blood-binding. He shot off a text to Hazel saying he was going to Storm House and hurried to check out the book.