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Well! Augustus thought. Why turn his nose up at such a crime of opportunity as was presenting itself to him right now? The hall was empty, the office was closed and dark, and the fact he’d already asked Olivia after Soren would work in his favor—he’d just have to say he’d gone intending to introduce himself to the man and had found the door unlocked.

He burned a small pocket charm to cast a stored mage eye spell—it was one of the few spells he kept charged in a charm, since the times one most wanted to see the magic in the area around you were often the times you didn’t want to go hunting for ingredients in the moment—and tolerated the brief flash of searing kaleidoscope colors from the magic baked into this school, looking the door over quickly. His own lack of a mundane alarm spell for his office had clearly bit him, and he wasn’t sure if someone else might have anticipated finding a need for one.

The standard wardings that came with the university itself were up, but those only protected from magical teleportation or damage, and he didn’t note anything more custom on the room in the few moments before the spell faded again from his vision. He blinked blurriness away. It seemed safe enough, so long as he was careful not to damage the door.

His lockpicking skills were a little rusty, but while he still wasn’t aware where he had acquired these skills—back in that lost period of his life, he assumed—he had never actually lost the muscle memory. He pulled his wire kit out of his pocket and got to work quickly, positioning his body to block what he was doing and trying to keep his ear out for any arrivals.

Fortunately, this lock was fundamentally similar to his own—he’d have to keep in mind that it was possible that nobody had borrowed Yujin’s keys but instead had the same skills—and he’d broken into his own office many times after locking his keys inside. (Whatever fool had come up with the idea of a door you could lock but still open from the inside only was someone he wanted words with). The lock took a few moments longer than he’d have liked to spend, but he got it open relatively quickly regardless.

Augustus entered and shut the door carefully behind himself—locking it just in case someone tried the handle for their own reasons—and looked around slowly, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkened room. The frosted glass of the window would show if there were a light on in here, so he had to do this without lighting a lamp or opening the curtains. Fortunately, the curtains weren’t blackout-thick, but nevertheless, it was dim.

It would be a real challenge to find a black hair in this lighting, even if Soren had gone out in his shirtsleeves and left a coat or something similar draped over the chair—which of course he hadn’t. Augustus did a quick pass through the area—books on the shelves, though not as many as he himself had (no surprise, given what a recent hire Soren was); an empty coat-rack; a desk with some papers and a mug on it; a chair; an empty trashcan. He did wish that Soren were a messier person.

Augustus considered the papers briefly—handwriting should count as something belonging to someone, assuming this was Soren’s handwriting and not someone else’s research or a missive from a friend—but dismissed it; people were on alert for missing papers thanks to Augustus’s own efforts.

The mug, though, that might be useful. Nobody thought anything of a mug going missing; they’d just assume they absently put it away, or took it to be washed, or left it somewhere unusual. Hopefully it was Soren who had drunk from it, not a student or Feather St. Saint, but its positioning on Soren’s side of the desk was promising.

As he reached for it, his hand brushed what he had initially thought was a smaller book, but realized with surprise was the frame of an ambrotype, laid on its front. He picked it up, eager for whatever information he could glean from it, and had a moment of disappointment when he realized it was just a shot of a class of university students. The first or last class Soren had taught at his last school, perhaps?

As he went to lay it back down, however, Augustus froze, recognizing one of the faces even in the dim lighting.

It was his own.

He had been younger then, maybe in his early or mid twenties, dressed to the nines even then. His hair was overgrown—he recalled that in his younger years of schooling, the teachers had forced him to keep it trimmed. When he’d gone away to university, he’d reacted to the loosening of restrictions in his life by defying those old rules. Even so, his hair was longer than he’d recalled letting it ever get. He was laughing, leaning a little on a student next to him who he could not recognize at all, though there was a nagging sense that he should recognize him. A young man who must be Soren stood on his other side, expression cool and composed, even superior.

For a long moment, he just stood there, tilting the ambrotype this way and that in the hopes of getting better light on it, maybe recognizing more faces. It was no good; he did not remember anyone in this class, and he did not remember this ambrotype being taken.

Augustus had to fight the desperate desire to put it in his satchel. It might be an even more useful material than the mug—something from that time period! Something that both he AND Soren were in!—but he was sure it would instantly be missed, and that would put Soren on his guard. Beyond which, if it was found on Augustus or in his belongings, it would be extremely incriminating in the way a mug wouldn’t. He forced himself to put it back face down, the way he’d found it. 

He knew where it was now, anyway. He could always come back for it later.

It was like putting it down broke some kind of metaphorical spell—he was fairly sure it wasn’t a literal one, though there was no way to be certain—and he was able to move again, grabbing the mug and putting it in his satchel. He just wouldn’t think about it for now; he couldn’t, not without getting caught up in implications.

Augustus left quickly through the locked door. Maybe the locksmith had been on to something after all—the inconveniences of locking himself out of this office were quickly forgotten in the face of not having to try to relock this one with picks. It was just as well, because a moment after he’d shut it, someone rounded the corner at the end of the hall; looked like a student on their way to someone’s office hours.

Trying to act like he’d only just got there, Augustus rattled the knob, peered in through the frosted glass with a sigh of irritation, then turned and walked away.

So. First mission was possibly a success, if not an uncomplicated one. Now, it was time to cram in as many more things as possible. Augustus was sure he could do more if he wasn’t doing them alone—so he headed toward Yujin’s study room. He could get Yujin to interview Feather about Soren, and spend the same time talking to Fitzfleming. After that he’d need lunch, and could see about skipping office hours to go get Olivia to introduce him to Soren.

Yujin was in their study room, and answered the door after a quick casual knock. They looked a little pale, only opening the door a crack, though they relaxed minutely when they saw who it was. Were they worried about someone just barging in?

“Morning, Yujin,” Augustus said cheerfully.

“Morning, sir. Something I can do for you?”

Augustus bobbed his head affably. “Do you know Feather St. Saint?”

“Feather?” Yujin’s brows furrowed briefly. “Yeah, we’ve met a few times. Why?”

“Can I step inside?”

Yujin stepped aside, allowing Augustus to come in, and gestured to the desk chair. “Did something happen?”

Augustus shook his head—he didn’t plan to be long—and just shut the door for some privacy. “Not at all. I was hoping you’d talk to them and get some information on Soren Kincaird.”

“Professor Kincaird?” Yujin blinked a few times. “Sure. Wait, do you think he stole your things?”

“He might have,” Augustus lied. “I have reason to believe he might have interest in me, and I’m not sure why.” That half wasn’t a lie, given the desk photo. “So any information you can get on him would be useful. Where he got his degrees—” Though Augustus assumed it was at the Twent College of Arcane Arts, given the photo and the fact he knew he’d gone there. “—past job, why he came to this job, any of those things. What sort of papers he’s currently working on. Try to be subtle.”

Yujin seemed stressed about this for some reason. “Uh, okay. I’ll go now? It’s urgent?”

“That sounds great,” Augustus enthused. “Thanks, Yujin. Maybe you’ll even make a friend out of it, if you hit it off with Feather!”

The expression Yujin gave him was pure mortification. “Yes, sir. If you’re willing to step out, I’ll lock up?”

“Of course—that’s everything for now,” Augustus said, heading out and waving back as he walked. “I’ve got other things to attend to, but let me know once you’ve heard more.”

So, two things checked off the list. What a productive morning he was having, compared to most! 

Next up was Ivory Fitzfleming, who was in her office. Augustus knocked, two quick raps, and then let himself in.

“Good mor—Pennywright!” She half-stood from behind her desk, grasping onto the edge. “What brings you here? I hope there hasn’t been any trouble with any of my students, or anything like that, or is it—is it a personal visit?”

Oh, her RA had been right, she was acting strange. Normally staid and straightforward, not jumpy like this. When the RA had commented about how she’d even cried, it had been hard to imagine from the normal Fitzfleming, but this Fitzfleming seemed on the edge of a breakdown. 

That complicated things a little. He knew how he’d normally approach her, straightforward and blunt in the face of her tendency to look down on his field. But he wasn’t familiar with this current mood she was in. Should he push on that emotional edge to see what came out from under it? Try to work around it delicately? Behave as if she were acting normally?

[What should Augustus do? Comment with details.]

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Hello, all! So, I got both my flu shot and my covid booster yesterday and, well, the head fog is real and the writing machine is out of commission atm. I’m taking today as a rest day!

That means you all get an extra 24 hours to come up with suggestions — please turn your comments in on Day 10 by 4:00 PM PST on October 12!

Now’s a great time to get caught up if you fell behind, so come and join in the dark academia Halloween fun!

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Augustus made himself a hearty breakfast of eggs, bread, sausages, and cheese, combining them into something resembling a sandwich and chewing slowly, his brow furrowed.

It was time to focus on Soren, clearly; Em had said as much, and if Em’s first priority was conquering this plane of existence, his second was fulfilling his promise to Augustus and unlocking his past. If he thought Soren was the key, then Augustus needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

He was strangely afraid to do this, possibly because Soren was tied to that big gap of nothingness that had been in his life for so long, but he needed to be brave. He needed details, he decided, in order to know how to approach Soren correctly. Where had he been studying originally to get his degrees? Where had he been working before the school hired him? Who had referred him? Were there any inconsistencies in his paperwork that could be found by talking to the right people? What details were known about his past and what was rumored?

The problem was, he concluded as he took his plate to the sink and scrubbed it ferociously, that if something were to happen to Soren soon, his asking around would make it possible to tie the incident back to him. Obviously, that might be a non-issue if Soren ended up coming consensually, or if he simply stole something of Soren’s and brought it to Em instead. But while his specialty wasn’t in sympathetic magic, he knew that if you wanted to use magic to divine about a person, the actual person was the best option, then hair or nails or other body parts, then belongings, and so on. The further away one got from the actual individual, the less the magic could get.

So he had to go ahead assuming that it was possible he might end up having to kidnap Soren sometime.

At least getting Soren (or something of Soren’s) to Em wouldn’t be an issue. Summoning him took time and materials, and also increased the chance that someone would find out somehow. But he could still summon him whenever he liked, and there were times in the past that he’d summoned Em every day just for the joy of it.

He had to focus, he reminded himself, dressing in a smart peacock blue suit which was embroidered with gold thread. If he wanted to reduce the number of people who knew about him being interested in Soren, Olivia was the only person he’d already asked. And she was willing to introduce them, so simply using her might work. On the other hand, he didn’t know how much Olivia would know about Soren, and Olivia wasn’t free until the afternoon—at the same time as Augustus’ office hours. Skipping them might go unnoticed, or it might stand out as suspicious.

On the other hand, asking multiple people only for one or two details might make him seem less obsessive than asking for a lot of details from one person. And he did still have to interrogate Fitzfleming to see if she were somehow involved in the theft of his research. It was possible he could double up and ask her about Soren while he was questioning her anyway. As a professor, though, she would be far more likely to know about Soren now than about Soren’s past.

The best person to get access to all of Soren’s hiring information and background details would be the dean, Reginald von Beekeeper. He’d thus be the best person to go to for things that other professors wouldn’t have access to. On the other hand, he’d likely be the first person to notice if something was amiss with Soren later, and he’d definitely get on Augustus’s case to hurry up with his monograph the moment he even caught sight of Augustus. Ugh.

There was also the easy option: using Yujin. On weekdays, Yujin worked on whatever research items that Augustus had previously assigned to them, and remained on call for anything else Augustus might need. He could have Yujin do a certain amount of asking around on his behalf; he could probably tell Yujin that he suspected Soren of the thefts to justify it. He could probably lean on them for discretion—he was pretty sure they weren’t behind the thefts themself. He just wasn’t certain of it, which did introduce some risk. Still, if Yujin did the asking around instead of Augustus, that’d be a level of deniability for Augustus himself.

His feet had taken him most of the way to the school as he thought through his options, and he frowned up at the campus gates before passing through them. Well, he could at least do the most basic research himself: finding Soren’s office.

Augustus walked the block of their department’s offices casually, as if simply going for a stroll on the way to his own. It didn’t take him too long to find his target: A door labeled Soren Kincaird, Doctor of Conjurations, Aetherial Spirits. Posted on the door were Soren’s office hours—none today, some tomorrow morning—though unfortunately, classes were not listed. The note did, however, list Soren’s research assistant as Feather St. Saint, and said to direct inquiries to her in his absence.

The office was closed and the opaque window was dark. Augustus hesitated outside it, casually checking his pocket watch. So, he could seek out any of the people he’d thought of and try to get information through them … or, of course, he could simply attempt to break in. 

[What should Augustus do? Comment with details.

(There was a lot of options in there, so to summarize:
– Wait for Olivia’s offered introduction in the afternoon, skip office hours
– Question Ivory Fitzfleming about the missing books and/or Soren
– Go to Dean Reginald von Beekeeper to try to get info
– Make Yujin do it for you
– Try to find Feather St. Saint and see what she knows
– break the fuck into this guy’s office lol
– Some combination of the above, timing-dependent)]

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Augustus flung himself forward, stumbling through voidspace and leaping up to wrap his arms around the demon prince Enmity’s shoulders. His mouth found Enmity’s and then they were kissing hard. Enmity’s mouth split to welcome him, too many teeth brushing his lips and a long tongue unfurling against Augustus’s. His heart ached, joy and loss and grief and power, at the feeling of his husband in his arms.

“I missed you,” Augustus gasped, breaking the kiss.

“Aw, babe, you like me,” Enmity teased, toying with a lock of Augustus’s hair. His iridescent eyes—possibly just more scales over them, Augustus had never been sure—glittered in the light from the workroom outside this space. “Thou sweet fool.”

“A fool for love,” Augustus said, smiling.

Enmity took Augustus’s hand—the one bearing his wedding ring, the mark of the pact he’d made when he promised himself to Enmity—and kissed it before releasing that hand again. “I know. Why’ve you summoned me this evening?”

“Ugh, because it’s been too long!” Augustus said dramatically, flinging his arms wide. “As we mortals determine this shit! My every thought has been consumed by your absence, and I had to dampen even those thoughts for fear of discovery! Babe.”

“Babe,” Enmity agreed, with a snort. “Well, if it’s just that—”

He pulled Augustus close again, and reality splintered around the pressure of his body, cold flames licking over Augustus’s skin, everything dissolving into pressure and heat, sharp teeth and blood, soft kisses and caresses, sensations almost as impossible to process as they were to describe. It was agony; it was ecstasy; it went on for an eon and was over in a heartbeat. He wanted to be strung out in it forever, sobbing Enmity’s name—his true name, the one scratched invisibly into the inside of his ring, into the inside of his heart—and giving as much of himself as he could until there was nothing left of him to give—

But no, it was over too soon, as always, and left him with enough of himself intact to be helplessly content, sprawled out against his husband, draped lazily against his chest. His mind came back together, and his thoughts, as Enmity returned them one at a time, grinning teasingly, toying with his very self.

“Ah, fuck,” Augustus said.

“Thou love-struck maggot, my sweet prelate,” Enmity said softly. He played with Augustus’s hair. “Is there truly nothing else going on for you right now? Tell me of your mortal concerns. Is that fool von Beekeeper still stuck up everyone’s assholes?” 

“He’d be less uptight if he were,” Augustus murmured. “I guess there are a few things that might interest you. Let me think a little more.”

It wasn’t a request for time, but to be given more of his mind back. A bit of energy rushed back into him—it was a temporary loan, Augustus knew, but would probably last him until he made it home later, where he’d sleep very deeply. “Yes?” Enmity asked.

Augustus pushed himself upright, sitting on Enmity’s thigh, and scrubbed his fingers through his hair, trying to make himself a little presentable after a thousand years of torture crammed into a few heartbeats. “Well, it’s really just a little mystery…”

He summarized his last couple of days, starting from discovering Yujin over his paperwork and what they’d said about the missing papers, covering his investigations to date, and ending with his time in the school pub, leaving nothing out. “So, as you can see, the options are still wide open. I feel like it was probably someone on campus rather than a random thief from outside it, but as of yet I don’t have any proof. And what about you? What news from beyond the veil between worlds?”

Enmity reclined back into a throne of black fire that he’d summoned at some point that Augustus couldn’t recall. “Oh, well. The usual things. Demonic scrabbling for power and attempts to gain new footholds into the planar realms, pressures from different sorts of spiritual forces to gain power over the others, etcetera, etcetera,” Enmity said. “I’m not entirely sure it’d be unrelated, actually. But listen.”

“I’m listening.”

“Thou dost, as best thou canst. I know, my good insect. Anyway, don’t forget as you do all this that you should have two priorities here. The first you should know already, of course, because it’s my proprietary interest.”

Augustus laughed, tracing a scale on Enmity’s chest with a fingertip absently, trying to memorize its texture. “I know. You want me to find the way to bring you through into our world permanently to rule it, rather than to steal a moment here and there through summoning. And historically that hasn’t worked out well for demons.”

“Because it’s an invasion, and we are intruding into a space that can perform a siege upon us,” Enmity agreed. “I think the research you’re doing into the proof that the so-called physical plane and that the spiritual plane are two halves of a whole will help. If you can cement that idea in some way, or find whatever bit of evidence makes it click, then claim at least part of it is my territory, I’ll have a ground advantage. Can’t give up on any bit that helps.”

“Mmhm.” Augustus leaned his head against that chest, which had no heart to beat in it. “I’m working on defining it. It would help if so much of our art wasn’t built up around the assumption of us-and-them. I really think investigating into what falls outside that dichotomy will help—”

“Annnd that’s the part that might be related,” Enmity said, more serious. “I’ve never forgotten about the gaps in your memory, Augustus. You summoned me to try to find out what had happened to you in your past, and I’m convinced you managed to conjure something from beyond. But I don’t know what, still. I’ve been investigating the things outside the planes, the things from beyond proper planar space, that wriggle through the gaps. And I’m limited in a way even you aren’t—demons are very bound to a plane and territory; otherwise, I wouldn’t have you working on this task for me.”

Augustus nodded, sitting up a little more and making himself pay better attention. “You’ve found something?” 

“I don’t know if it’s your thing. But I’m pretty attuned to calls from your area of your planar space, because I’m always listening for you.”

“You are?” Augustus tried to sound flattered instead of smug.

“Darling. Sure. Yeah of course.” Enmity waved a hand. “We’re bound. The point is, I think something has been calling and trying to reach that space between, and is doing so from somewhere near you, and I was looking for it so I happened to spot it. I don’t know if it’s deliberate, and I don’t know if it’s successful.”

“But it’s certainly oddly coincidental when some of my research on that non-planar space got stolen. At a time that I have been trying to do a monograph about it,” Augustus agreed.

“Yeah! You fuckin’ get me! Thou brilliant, dirt-crawling creature!”

Augustus preened. “But what do you think the call’s trying to do?”

“I think it might be trying to pull something through.” Enmity hesitated, then patted Augustus’s leg. “And I don’t know what that’d result in. But whether or not it’s related directly, I think you should track down that Soren guy. If you have a sense you know Soren but can’t remember, he might have been someone you knew during that period of fractured memory. You know I can’t access that part of your mind directly to find out what you did, because that part’s just not there, but it definitely never felt demonic. If Soren is from that time, and was involved—”

“A big if. He might have just been someone I knew around then.”

“Yeah, we’re all speculative up in this fine bitch,” Enmity agreed. “But regardless, if he’s associated at all, if you borrow something of Soren’s—or kidnap him himself, I don’t care, whatever works, though I doubt you want him seeing me—I might be able to use him to fill in some of those gaps. Like using multiple secondary sources to get a better idea of a subject that doesn’t have any primary sources. Ya dig?”

It made sense—and getting ahold of something belonging to someone he hadn’t even introduced himself to yet was, at least, a minor challenge as these things went. “I do dig.”

“I know thou dost, thou wriggling mite,” Enmity purred fondly. 

“So to summarize—if I’m understanding—someone stole my research about dichotomies of the plane, which I’m using to try to redefine the planes as one thing instead of two, and they may or may not be using it to get a better grasp of what is between the planes, and they may or may not be the same person who is trying to access the space beyond the planes, and what they’re accessing may or may not be the same thing involved in the loss of my past memories, and this may or may not in some way relate to Soren?”

“Time’s up, babe,” Enmity said, and Augustus was thrown back into reality as the rift closed.

He lay on the floor for a few moments, his extra energy gone again, sucked back into the abyss with Enmity—gone home with Em, he reminded himself automatically, now that he was here instead of there—and slowly pushed himself up.

Thankfully, the campus workrooms all had running water so that materials could be extinguished if necessary, and he managed to shakily clean himself up before he stumbled home to bed. He did not encounter anyone he knew, at least, and once he was home he stumbled into bed fully dressed and immediately passed out.

He slept in a little the next morning, but was suitably refreshed regardless when he woke. It was Twosday now, he reminded himself, which meant that his day was empty of obligations until 1pm, when his office hours started … if he even wanted to go to them.

[What should Augustus do? Comment with details.]

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Augustus tore his eyes away from the sight of Soren leaning over the menu, of the long line of his back and the way his suit lay tight across his backside. He had come here for a purpose—he had too many mysteries he was actively researching to add another to his plate! Besides, he was on a deadline. He had to eat, drink, and casually interrogate everyone who seemed relevant to the case of the missing research, then casually excuse himself and be back in his workroom within two hours. He didn’t have time to play around. 

He wondered if he was being so determined specifically to give himself another excuse to not go over and introduce himself, and thus actually confront that strange, fluttery-familiar feeling. He’d somehow come up with perfectly reasonable excuses like these every time he’d noticed Soren.

It didn’t matter. The excuses were perfectly reasonable, after all.

He ordered food at the bar—a flattened, battered, and fried chicken with a crema sauce and a collection of fried root vegetables with side salad—and took his drink, casually wandering the room and stopping to look at the stained glass window within earshot of the table full of drunken research assistants.

“—Like, if they want the workload to be this heavy this early in the year, I don’t know what it’s going to be like down the line.”

“I know! And that’d be fine if more of them were actually doing their job.”

“The day every professor does their job and doesn’t casually shunt additional work onto us will be the day that I see a sow soar ‘cross the sky.”

“We’re not supposed to be in charge of classroom work! We’re essentially just fancy librarians.”

“We’re not fancy compared to the librarians, have you seen—“

“The point is that that’s a totally different job description and I should complain. I should just complain to someone.”

“The dean?”

“I guess! But I’ve heard the dean’s currently overloading the professors with research work and if he just tells them to offload that all to us it won’t be any better. They’re the ones who signed up to both teach and research.”

“I’d rather do more research and less trying to distract a class I’m sitting in on.” 

“At least Spiders has only arrived late a few times. Fitzfleming has been acting so … so weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Like … emotional. She’s not like that normally. She cried once. I don’t even know why! She cried and started apologizing for nothing!”

“Oh, wow. Wow. Is everything okay in her home life!?”

“I’m not going to ask!“

“Okay, I know, but—” 

“Uh, is that Pennywright?”

The table of research assistants grew quiet. Augustus took a long sip of his beer, gazing at the window with admiration a few moments longer, then turned as if he had only just noticed them due to their sudden silence. “Oh! My apologies. Didn’t see you all there.”

“Yes sir,” one of them, who he didn’t recognize, said. 

“Can we help you with anything?” Pérez’s RA asked.

Well, in for a penny. “Do you know if everything’s been all right with Yujin, lately?”

“Yujin? They almost never come to get-togethers,” Olivia’s RA said. “And when they do, they’re usually pretty quiet. Secretive, actually, I don’t know much about them. Why, did something happen?”

They were obviously gossips. “No, nothing, really. They discovered some theft from my office and I was worried if they were feeling guilty or shaken about what a close encounter with a thief they must have just missed. I’m hoping not, though, it’s hardly their fault.”

“Theft?” Several of them seemed to perk their ears up. Some of them—the more bestial or elven of them, both of whom had ears that did swivel—actually did perk their ears up. “Like what?”

“Just a few books. I don’t know if I actually misplaced them, or if someone borrowed them and neglected to tell me, or if we have someone trying to hawk rare books. If you hear anything, can you let me know?”

None of them had any recognition about this on their faces, at least, and if one of them was the guilty party, they were an incredibly good actor when drunk. “Sure, we can do that,” said another one he didn’t recognize. 

“Thanks muchly,” he said, finishing his drink and wandering off.

It looked as though his food were up, so he snagged his plate and pretended to wander around looking for the ideal place to sit. This gave him a chance to slide in front of Octothorpe, who seemed surprised to see him. “Hello,” Augustus said cheerfully. “Fine afternoon.”

“Is it?” Octothorpe said. “It’s Firstday.”

“It is. It is Firstday.”

“I hate Firstdays,” Octothorpe said, sighing.

“Are you … okay?” Augustus asked slowly.

“Fine. I got a paper rejected.”

“Ah.” Augustus nodded. Obviously, Ethics wasn’t exactly scrambling to have people publish all the time, but the people on the Ethics board were still academics, and it never felt good when a journal decided not to go ahead with something you’d spent that much time on. “Sorry to hear it.”

“Anyway. Did you want something?”

“Company while I ate?” Augustus took a bite pointedly, and then another because the food was really good. And then, because Octothorpe continued to look at him with disbelief—neither had any issues with the other in particular, so far as Augustus knew, but they weren’t friends—added, “I do have a problem.”

“Of course you do,” Octothorpe said, glum.

 Augustus pretended that he’d been met with enthusiasm. “Someone stole some things from my office. I was wondering if anyone else had reported anything?”

“That sounds like an issue for campus security.”

“I know, but if it turns out to be someone using it for cheating, that’ll end up with your folks.”

Octothorpe sighed. “I guess it would. Cheating and forbidden spells, that’s all I get to deal with, not respected work in scholarly publications …” 

Ethics was normally called in when someone was performing magic that they really oughtn’t to, to determine if they were putting other people at risk. Augustus tried very hard not to think of the ritual currently brewing on-campus in his workroom. He tried very hard most of the time not to think of his husband at all, beyond vague thoughts of loving his darling Em. One never knew when someone whose magics lay in that area would start reading minds and if they might somehow get around your own mental wards. That would be a violation of Ethics as well, of course. Just … well, there was no comparison, was there?

He ate in silence for a few moments, waiting to see what Octothorpe would do, then finally said, “Okay, so if it does turn out someone—student, professor, someone from off campus—is stealing book for their own use, can I come to you? And if you hear anything more, can you let me know?”

“Yes to both,” Octothorpe said. “Of course, if it’s off campus, it’ll be out of my hands, but a cheating student or a professor trying to poach your work, both would be Ethics concerns. If I do bring you information, though, please don’t try to confront them directly. That could get—” he shuddered, “—violent.” 

Augustus was never sure if Octothorpe were a pacifist for moral reasons, or simply afraid of a fight. “Of course. Thank you.”

“Sure. Do you think I’m a hack?”

“Oh goodness no. Of course not.” Augustus ate a little too fast as he listened to Octothorpe vent about the publication’s response being too personal, though the description sounded pretty templated to him.

When  his plate was finally empty, he rose. “Well, try another journal,” he said. “You never know.”

“I already have.”

“Third time’s the charm!” Augustus insisted, beating a retreat to deposit his plate at the bar and ask for another drink.

Once that was pulled, he wandered toward Olivia, who was just finishing up their meal at the bar, having eaten it at a much more sedate pace. “Hello, Olivia. This seat taken?”

“I suspect it has been now!” she said cheerfully, gesturing. He sat in it. “What’s new?”

“Oh, this and that,” he said vaguely. “Is everything well with you? I couldn’t help but hear that you’d been late to class a few times recently, and I know that’s not something you’re usually casual about.”

They grimaced, their nose wrinkling and sending their freckles for a ride. “Von Beekeeper’s just really been riding my ass to get a paper done.”

That was relatable. “Oh, word,” he said.

“Yeah, I thought the whole department might be getting it,” she said with a sigh. “Really chasing that funding. Anyway, I’ve been working on it a lot lately, you know how it is. Sometimes I hear the bell go and think, well, I’ll just finish my sentence, but when I look up it’s five minutes past my absolute drop-dead limit for when I can get to class on time. I do feel very bad about it.”

“I’m glad it’s nothing serious,” he said, smiling at them. “What are you working on?”

“Ah-ah-ah.” They waggled a finger. “Our fields are a little too close and the pressure is a little too much; what if you stole some of my ideas? I’m onto your nefarious ways!”

There was no way she was actually onto his nefarious ways. Augustus wrinkled his nose back at her. “Sounds like you have theft on the mind lately.”

That seemed to surprise her. Her eyes widened and she sat back a little. “Excuse me?”

“Pérez mentioned you’d been grilling him about anti-theft warding details,” Augustus explained. Yeah, that must have sounded weird out of context. “For your sister.”

“Oh, yes, that,” Olivia said. They frowned at him. “What are you doing asking Pérez about me? I thought you two didn’t get along.”

“Oh, Pérez is fine,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “And I wasn’t, I was asking him about theft. Yujin noticed that I had a few books taken out of my office recently.”

Olivia groaned. “Great, my fears of theft are now increased. Anything valuable?”

“Nothing hugely so; it’s mostly just in terms of value to me and my work. And the fact it’s happening at all,” he added.

She nodded. “I haven’t noticed anything myself, but I’ll have to ask my assistant if he has. Great. Lovely. Cheers to that. Change the subject, okay?”

He waved a hand apologetically. “Sorry to stress you out, it’s just been my own personal concern since we found that. About that subject change … actually, there’s someone I’ve been hoping you’d introduce me to.” He looked around—

—but Soren was no longer here. He must have only grabbed a drink, or perhaps didn’t like the menu or its prices. Augustus tried not to feel disappointed about that.

“Yeeeees?” Olivia asked slowly.

“Oh, no, it’s just—that new professor. Soren. I was hoping for an introduction.”  

“Oooh, why. Is he your type?”

“I’m just curious. We haven’t met before.” They hadn’t, had they? “So I was hoping someone would help out there.”

Olivia looked very curious about that for a few moments, then seemed to dismiss it, shrugging. “I can do that later, if you want. I’m free tomorrow afternoon.”

He had office hours in the afternoon. Most of the time, students didn’t show up, though. “I’ll think about it, thank you,” he said.

But talking about time had made his eyes wander to the clock. Augustus downed his drink and rose. “I appreciate it, Olivia. Best of luck … and make sure you lock your office up tight!”

“Jerk,” she said, miming a kick at his ankle that was guaranteed to miss. 

Augustus returned to the workroom just in time; the ingredients had formed the perfect consistency, and were only just starting to bubble. He barred his door and jammed a chair under the handle for good measure, then decanted them, his chanting soft, the odd sounds rolling off his tongue.

His voice had just begun to go hoarse when the ritual finished and voidspace filled his room, overlapping on the real world. A darker space in it split and tore, and his husband stepped through, iridescent scales glittering, tall black horns almost scraping the top of the workroom (though they wouldn’t be able to touch the physical space of it even if they did so in here), tail lashing, naked and resplendent, taller than human, hooved and brilliant, surrounded in heatless black flames that wreathed his limbs.

“Babe! Darling! Thou wretched worm who hast hitched his wagon to mine horse,” Enmity, Demon Prince of the Dark Phlogiston said cheerfully. “What the fuck is up? It has been SO long as mortals determine this shit. Or so it hast felt to be apart from thee.”

[What should Augustus do? Comment with details.]

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