About an hour after Harold left the interest meeting for the Creature Fair, he found himself in the library. Not Carter, of course, but the one called Cunningham, which lay on the east side of campus. He occupied a mahogany chair in a little nook sheltered by two particularly tall bookshelves, and roofed under a small, circular window. Across a small coffee table from him sat Theodore, who was, somewhat surprisingly, nose-deep in a book. By now, he’d managed to scrub away most of the flytrap’s digestive fluids, but there were still some singes here and there, which gave him a distinctly moth-eaten appearance. He didn’t seem to notice the odd looks he got from his peers, however, and instead kept his attention on a copy of Unusual Applications of Zoology, Vol II, which he’d checked out from the library just a few minutes ago.

Abruptly, Theodore turned a page with a confused look on his face. “Hold on,” he said. “I thought that there were only two types of neogenics, but here it says that there are three.”

Harold looked up from the book he was pretending to be immersed in. “The other type is called radical neogenics. It uses nitroblathlamene, a substance with highly mutagenic properties. If it works, it’s a lot quicker than the other methods, but it's also experimental, and very dangerous when done wrong, so they don’t teach it to us in class.”

Theo turned another page. “Oh, I see. Thanks, Harold.”

Harold nodded. “Of course.”

Of course, Harold had his own studying to do, although of a much different sort than Theo’s. Unfortunately for him, however, the closure of Carter had forced students to the other three libraries on campus, making them more crowded, more conspicuous. If he wanted to get anything done, he’d need to avoid extra pairs of eyes, including those of Matheson and Tailor, who he’d seen enter the building not too long ago. He’d also need to get to the third floor of the library, which was always blocked to students. Fortunately, he had something that would aid him with both endeavors.

He closed his book and stood up. “I’ll be back,” he said.

“Oh?” was Theo’s response. “Where are you off to?”

Harold smiled. “I need to return a book.” It wasn’t strictly untrue; it was just true in a way Theo thought it was. "Watch my stuff while I'm gone."

As Harold left the nook and ascended two sets of spiral stairs, he didn’t notice the shadowy figure that watched him from behind a nearby bookshelf, nor did he notice his two rivals, who were both hatching schemes of their own. Instead, all of his attention was bent toward a purple sphinx, which guarded the library’s third floor landing.

Presently, he reached the landing and came face to face with its scruffy guardian. “Felix!” he exclaimed. “How are you? I hope the librarians are feeding you well.”

The sphinx growled at him. “Back again so soon, Baker? I thought I told you not to come back without a professorrrrr’s perrrrrmisson.” The creature’s r’s came out in a rumbling roll that could have become a roar at a moment’s notice. Harold steeled himself.

“Ah, but I do have permission.” He held up the book he’d bought—Unusual Applications of Mycology, Vol. 23—on the floor in front of Felix. “Professor Gorgon asked me to return this.”

“Give it to one of the librrrrrarians.”

“Can’t. One of them is helping oversee the reconstruction of Carter Library, and the other is out sick.” By now, these excuses were well-rehearsed. “This is the sort of book that’s pretty dangerous to leave lying around, so it’s probably best to just put it on the shelf and be done with it. I’d only be in there for a minute or two. You can tell the librarians after they get back.”

The sphinx stared at the book. He dimly recalled Gorgon checking it out of the library a few weeks ago. He supposed that it was technically possible that he’d get a student to return it; he’d been pretty busy recently. Still, he asked, “Do you have a note?”

“I do.” He retrieved a small slip of paper which he’d tucked inside the book’s cover and held it out for the sphinx to inspect.

Felix glared at it. He’d been trained to recognise most of the faculty’s handwriting. The note certainly seemed like Gorgon’s scrawl, although there was something a little funny about the i’s…

“I also brought a snack.” He pulled a carefully wrapped piece of meat out of his bag and placed it on the floor in front of the cat.

Felix had to stop himself from licking his lips. He’d smelled the meat as the human had approached, but he’d assumed that it had been leftovers from the human’s lunch. He also remembered that he hadn’t eaten since the previous night. He stared carefully at the meat, then at the book, then at the note, then at the meat again.

They really must not be feeding him well, Harold thought.

“Hmmm…” the creature rumbled. Harold didn’t let his impatience show.

“Fine,” he said at last, and stepped aside, granting Harold access to the door that lay ahead. “Go on through.” His eyes held equal parts suspicion and hunger.

Harold nodded. “Thanks, Felix.”

He crossed the door’s threshold with giddy excitement. He almost hadn’t believed that that would work. He’d always been a good liar, but this was something else entirely! Of course, the note he’d given Felix was forged, and the book he’d “borrowed” from Gorgon on his way out of the lecture hall. But what the cat didn’t know wouldn’t bother him.

Harold took a few deep breaths to study himself and made his way into the restricted section of the library, which greatly resembled the lower floors, except that the shelves were taller, the books were more impressive, and the silence was, somehow, even more stifling.. He’d been in here once before, while helping one of the librarians, so he already knew his way around. He did his best to avoid any people he saw.

Eventually, he came to the science section of the library and replaced Unusual Applications of Mycology, Vol. 23 with the others in its series. Then, he retrieved the book that he actually sought: Unusual Applications of Botany, Vol. 12.

Harold grinned when he saw it. Silver and blue with gold lettering, the book’s cover was unusually reflective. It was a good thing, too, for if it hadn’t been, Harold would have never seen the shadow-clad stranger that had snuck past Felix and followed him onto the third floor.

When he saw the figure in the mirror that the book created, Harold almost dropped the tome in surprise. He had a strong desire to look behind him, but he quashed it; it was probably best not to let on that he knew he was being watched. Instead, he studied the figure’s reflection while pretending to study the book. The figure was shorter than average, and garbed all in black. Even the face was obscured by a black mask. The mask didn’t have eyeholes, and yet, Harold thought that he could feel the man’s gaze upon him—at least, Harold thought that it was a man, though it was hard to be certain.

Harold’s mind raced. At first, he thought that it was a faculty member come to question him, but no one at the Institute would be wearing a getup like that. Perhaps it was a student in disguise?

Slowly, Harold opened the book to the table of contents, and found the chapter he was looking for. A faculty member wouldn’t have hesitated to approach him, so more likely than not, the man’s behavior had nothing to do with his presence on the third floor. Still, since he didn’t know the stranger’s intentions, it was probably best to wait and see what happened.

Harold skimmed the book’s 44th chapter. He’d always had a good memory, so he had no trouble absorbing the information. When he finished, he closed the book and put it back on the shelf. He turned around to leave the library the way he’d come, and in doing so saw that the figure was gone. Harold left the third floor as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself, looking over his shoulder at every juncture.

Soon, Harold had returned to the nook he’d been sharing with Theodore. It had only been five minutes, but Theo said, “Finally, you’re back! I need your help with this.” He looked up and saw his friend’s face. “Is something up? You look like you saw a ghost.”

Harold shook his head to clear his mind. He had no way of knowing who this mysterious watcher was, and if he was lucky, he would never find out, so as he saw it, there was no point in fretting over it now. “No. Nothing’s up,” he said at last. “I just remembered that I have a test to study for.” He sat down beside Theodore. “What did you need help with?”