Page 70 of Florescentia

It was like a water leak at first, then it turned pitch black. It spread across the painted fresco, becoming a starry expanse. Yet, only I could see such an ominous thing.

Calum’s brows furrowed, still waiting on his answer.

“I might.” As I watched the shadow behind him, a small rumbling began in my ears.

“Well, what is the subject today?” He perked up, walking to the other side of the skywalk before disappearing into the arch.

“Do no harm,” I warned quietly.

Calum emerged from the floor-level door, having also discarded his other folders full of responsibilities to help.

“I’m looking for mentions of shadows, in Astrium specifically,” I said slowly.

“Celestial beings or symbolism?” he countered as he pulled the library ladder across the shelves.

The shadows on the ceiling began to drip, forming on the ground as they landed.

“Celestial being,” I said, then called up to him as he climbed the ladder, “maybe even how to banish one.”

“Are you getting night terrors?” Calum peeked down at me.

Another shadow crawled along the top of the bookshelf, a vague human form above Calum, claws drawn. It stilled, but it was posturing as if to snatch him.

Was it bluffing?

Was I willing to find out?

“Actually,” I said quickly, hurrying to the nearest book within reach, “never mind. I will just take this.”

Calum looked almost deflated, like he’d been looking forward to something other than his desk job. But with accepted defeat, he stepped back down the ladder, and the shadows retreated.

“I’m so sorry to be a bother.” I smiled apologetically, but he just gave me an understanding nod.

“Well, you know where to find me if Maxim can’t be of use,” he chirped. “Back to processing applications.” The faux-excited tone made it seem funny, despite the poor man’s boredom.

“I will let you know,” I assured him. “It’s a good time to be distracted. Maybe I will have more musings to entertain.”

“I shall hope so,” he sighed, nodding before retreating.

The shadows on the ceiling shrank back, the colors of the fresco became vibrant again, and the only evidence of the illusion was locked within my mind. A memorable warning.

Among the last living flowers in my garden were irises.

It was no coincidence that the only color left was from the indigo blooms with white spots along the petals. Or perhaps it was a pure accident that they were the last to go. I clipped them at the base, one more use of their beauty before the next Ortuam season, when the world would explode with color.

Along with the flowers, I wore some of my lesser-used dressings.

The robe was made of a heavy silk, but even the heaviest weight did not overheat. The robe was a sky blue, large gold starbursts embroidered in gold floss. The bell sleeves were made of a sheer fabric, the same stars scattered with smaller ones along the trim.

I prepared a salve, for a dewy finish that complemented both tones of my lips. Coated my lashes with mascara to cover the peppered white hairs along my inner brow and lash line. There were only a couple, so it was easier to just make them black.

My hair was brushed out, then I added a heavier oil to give form to the curls. I twisted half of it up. A mother-of-pearl hair stick with a moon charm held the top half in place, with the exception of a few stray curls around my face and ears. I felt like some painting from the Middle Ages, a princess in the tower, luring the dragon of my own making.

It had taken a while, but the library was eventually cleaned more thoroughly. Scrubbed and swept as much as I could without doing any major repairs. Candles were scattered around the room, all the water lamps covered. A sheet tucked against the highest bookshelf, bookends holding the fabric in place along the wall.

In front of this improvised backdrop, my camera on a tripod. It was boxy, its bellows freshly oiled and hydrated. It was larger and less practical than my smaller pinhole cameras, but it was my only camera that used pneuma-types.

I prepared three wet plates in their own separate dark slides. The first one was already fastened to the back of the camera, and I adjusted the length of the bellows for focus. I removed the cap from the lens and screwed in the long air trigger that would allow me to push the shutter myself. It was pretty much a thin rubber tube with a squeeze-bulb atomizer on the end, like one on a perfume bottle.