Page 5

THREE

LEO

T he Mistwhisper Falls Municipal Archives occupied the entire basement level of the town hall, a climate-controlled maze of filing cabinets, document storage boxes, and reading tables that smelled of old paper and preservation chemicals.

Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting everything in the harsh white glow that made Leo's eyes water after an hour of watching Dr. Aerin Thorne methodically work her way through two centuries of carefully maintained records.

She'd been at it since eight in the morning, her movements precise and economical as she photographed documents, cross-referenced dates, and filled page after page of a leather-bound notebook with observations written in a script so small and neat it looked like machine printing.

Leo had positioned himself at a reading table with clear sightlines to both her workspace and the archive's single entrance, his lion's paranoia demanding strategic positioning even in what should have been a secure environment.

"Finding anything interesting?" he asked, more to break the oppressive silence than from genuine curiosity about her research.

"Several things, actually." Aerin didn't look up from the 1847 town charter she was examining, her pale eyes moving across the faded text with laser focus.

"Your town records are remarkably complete for a frontier settlement.

Most municipalities from this period have significant gaps in documentation, but Mistwhisper Falls has continuous records from the day of incorporation. "

"Bureaucratic thoroughness is a point of pride around here," Leo said dryly, though he was surprised by the observation. He'd never thought much about the archives' completeness, accepting it as just another quirk of small-town administration.

"It's more than thoroughness. It's systematic preservation with an almost obsessive attention to detail.

" Aerin held up a property deed that looked like it had been written yesterday despite its 1849 date.

"These documents have been magically preserved.

Someone cast spells to prevent aging, water damage, and deterioration.

That level of care suggests the records contain information worth protecting. "

Leo moved closer, his curiosity overriding his professional wariness. The deed in Aerin's hands did look suspiciously pristine for something over a century old, and now that she'd mentioned it, all the documents in the archives shared that same unnaturally perfect preservation.

"Magical preservation is expensive and time-consuming," Aerin continued, making notes about the deed's ownership transfer details.

"It requires renewal spells every few decades and considerable magical energy.

Most communities wouldn't invest that kind of resources in municipal paperwork unless they had very good reasons. "

"What kind of reasons?"

"The kind that involve hiding important information in plain sight.

" Aerin set the deed aside and reached for a leather-bound ledger that looked older than the town itself.

"Bureaucratic records are perfect camouflage for sensitive information.

Who would think to look for magical secrets in property transfers and tax assessments? "

Leo settled into a chair across from her, his lion intrigued despite his suspicions. "You think our founders hid information about their magic in the town records?"

"I think your founders were much more paranoid than the standard historical narrative suggests." Aerin opened the ledger to reveal pages of meticulous handwriting in multiple languages. "This is supposedly a merchant's accounting book from the original settlement, but look at these entries."

She pointed to a series of notations that looked like inventory lists at first glance, but contained words that made Leo's lion stir uneasily. References to "binding materials" and "containment supplies" were scattered throughout what should have been records of flour and lumber purchases.

"Binding materials could mean rope or chains," Leo pointed out, though he was beginning to see Aerin's point.

"Could be. But rope doesn't typically require silver inlay or moon-blessed components." Aerin traced a finger along a particularly detailed entry. "This reads like a shopping list for a major magical working disguised as mundane supply orders."

Leo studied the careful script, noting details that suggested whoever had written these entries possessed both magical knowledge and a healthy paranoia about keeping records secret. "You think they were planning the seal from the beginning?"

"I think they came here specifically to create the seal and spent months preparing for a magical working of unprecedented complexity." Aerin flipped through more pages, revealing similar disguised entries. "The question is why they felt the need to hide their preparations so thoroughly."

"Maybe because they were binding something that other people wanted to stay free?"

"Or because they weren't all in agreement about what they were doing." Aerin's voice carried a note of tension that made Leo look at her more closely. "Captain Maddox, how much do you know about the original three founders?"

"Basic local history. Witch, wolf shifter, and fae working together to establish a supernatural-friendly community. Standard founding myth with a paranormal twist."

"Standard founding myth that doesn't match the documentary evidence." Aerin pulled out several documents and spread them across the table in chronological order. "Look at these property records. The original settlement was purchased by four people, not three."

Leo leaned forward, examining the faded signatures on the land patents. Three of the names were familiar from local history—Helena Whitaker, Garrett Halloway, and Silvane Beaumont. But there was a fourth signature, written in script so elaborate it was almost impossible to read.

"Mordaine Ashglen," Aerin read, pointing to the ornate signature. "The records show she contributed equally to the land purchase and was listed as a founding member of the town council. But by 1850, her name disappears from all official documents."

"Maybe she died or moved away?"

"Maybe. Or maybe she was deliberately erased from the historical record.

" Aerin pulled out more documents, each one showing the same pattern.

"Look at this town charter amendment from 1849.

Someone physically removed Mordaine's name from the document and wrote over it.

And here, in the minutes from an 1850 council meeting, there's a reference to 'the betrayal' and 'necessary measures to ensure the binding's integrity. '"

Leo felt his lion's unease growing as the meaning of her statement became clear. "You're suggesting there was a fourth founder who betrayed the others?"

"I'm suggesting there was a fourth founder who disagreed with the others about something important enough to be written out of history.

" Aerin's pale eyes met his across the scattered documents.

"And I'm suggesting that whatever she disagreed about might be the key to understanding why the founder network is failing now. "

The archives fell silent except for the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sounds of traffic from the street above.

Leo found himself studying Aerin's face as she worked, noting details he'd been too wary to observe before.

The elegant bone structure that marked her as fae nobility.

The way her fingers moved across ancient documents with reverent care.

The intensity of focus that suggested genuine scholarly passion rather than calculated deception.

"You really believe this matters," he said quietly. "This isn't just academic research for you."

"It's the only lead I have on preventing a supernatural catastrophe that could kill thousands of people," Aerin replied without looking up from her notes. "So yes, I believe it matters."

"Why do you care so much? You're fae nobility from the Northern Courts. This isn't your community or your responsibility."

Aerin's hands stilled on the documents, and for a moment her scholarly mask slipped enough to reveal something vulnerable beneath the academic armor.

"Because I've seen what happens when ancient bindings fail.

Because my grandmother was killed trying to reinforce a compromised seal in the Arctic territories.

Because I know what's coming if we can't figure out how to stop it. "

The raw pain in her voice hit Leo with unexpected force, and his lion responded with the instinctive desire to comfort someone who was clearly carrying old wounds. He found himself leaning forward, drawn by her vulnerability despite every logical reason to maintain professional distance.

"I'm sorry," he said, meaning it. "I didn't know you'd lost family to this."

"Most people don't. The fae courts prefer to handle their failures quietly.

" Aerin returned to her documents, but the rigid set of her shoulders suggested the conversation had cost her more than she wanted to admit.

"But the failures are accelerating, Captain Maddox.

Whatever's destabilizing the network has been planning this for decades, possibly centuries. We're running out of time to stop it."

Leo found himself studying the evidence she'd assembled, seeing patterns in the historical records that he'd never noticed before.

The careful preservation of documents that contained hidden magical information.

The systematic erasure of one founder's existence.

The references to betrayal and binding integrity that suggested the original seal had been compromised from within.

"This betrayal sigil you mentioned," he said, picking up one of the council meeting transcripts. "What exactly would something like that do?"

"Theoretical magical safety measure designed to detect and cleanse corruption within a binding network.

" Aerin's scholarly enthusiasm returned as she explained the concept.

"If one of the founders or their descendants became compromised by external influence, the betrayal sigil would activate to isolate the corruption and prevent it from spreading to the entire seal. "

"Sounds like exactly what we need now."

"If it exists. If it wasn't destroyed when Mordaine was erased from the records. We need to figure out how to activate it without knowing the original triggering conditions." Aerin's expression grew grim. "A lot of ifs for something that might be our only hope of stopping a cascade failure."

Leo was about to respond when his radio crackled to life with Sheriff Torres's voice, tense with urgency.

"Leo, we need you at Moondrip Market immediately. We've got reports of structural instability and some kind of underground disturbance."

"What kind of disturbance?" Leo asked, already standing and reaching for his equipment.

"The kind that's making the building foundation hum and causing root vegetables to glow in the dark," Torres replied grimly. "Diana called it in twenty minutes ago, but it's getting worse."

Leo looked at Aerin, who was already packing her research materials with efficient speed. "Dr. Thorne, you need to stay here and continue your?—"

"Absolutely not." Aerin slung her satchel over her shoulder and pulled out the magical detection device she'd used the day before. "If there's an underground magical disturbance, it's almost certainly connected to my research. I'm coming with you."

"The council said supervised access only."

"Then supervise me at the actual site instead of wasting time arguing.

" Aerin was already heading for the archive exit, her device beginning to emit the soft humming that indicated magical activity.

"Besides, Captain, if this is related to the founder network, you're going to need someone who understands ancient binding magic to tell you whether it's dangerous or just dramatic. "

Leo followed her up the stairs, his lion torn between irritation at her presumption and grudging respect for her determination.

As they emerged into the afternoon sunlight, Aerin's detection device began humming louder, its needle spinning wildly before settling on a bearing that pointed directly toward the market district.

"Interesting," Aerin murmured, making notes as they walked quickly toward Leo's patrol vehicle. "The resonance pattern is different from what I detected yesterday. This isn't residual energy from the original binding. This is something new activating."

"New how?"

"New as in there's a second magical system underneath Moondrip Market that just woke up." Aerin climbed into the SUV, her device now emitting a steady pulse that matched the rhythm of a heartbeat. "New as in we might have just found Mordaine's betrayal sigil."

Leo started the engine and pulled away from the curb with enough speed to make the tires squeal, his lion's protective instincts screaming warnings about the implications of Aerin's research.

If she was right about the fourth founder and the betrayal sigil, then whatever was happening at the market could be either their salvation or the trigger for exactly the kind of catastrophe she'd come to prevent.

Either way, it looked like their careful academic research was about to become very practical very quickly.