While she waits for Ghostheart to do something more interesting than drink coffee and search for bric-a-brac on eBay, Charlotte Palmer has a hidden family to uncover.
She’s back in Vyortovia, but not on the New University campus as such. Instead, she’s found herself traveling from library to library in the city itself. The staff aren’t hostile as such, but do leave her to her own devices. That, plus the fact that the books here are in a language nobody knew existed until a year ago, makes her task difficult.
The most progress she’s made has come from consulting the Lindorm Library. The booklins can see everything she sees when she’s wearing her spectacles, and the Library itself was well beyond the veil of magic that kept the world from perceiving Iceland. Her helpers have put together enough of a translation that she can at least intelligently search for titles. That’s a start.
She’s browsing the stacks when someone approaches. Charlotte does not like being surprised, and for someone to bypass her perceptions both magical and mundane is both impressive and concerning.
The newcomer is masked, wearing a typical superhero costume. But she’s never seen him before.
“Ms. Palmer,” the figure says. “I request your indulgence. I wish to introduce myself. I am Resister.”
“I’ve not had the pleasure, sir,” she replies with a smile, all the while studying what she can.
“Anonymity is my specialty.” He gestures with a gloved hand at the shelved books, row after row of them. “I wish to offer my services in your search.”
Charlotte tilts her head. “And what assistance can you offer me, good sir?”
“First, the Hidden Family of the Vyortovian Throne is relevant to my research project at University. I think it’ll help my teammates to know more.” Resister cocks his head. “Second. I am fluent in Icelandic.”
Interesting.
“A rather convenient set of skills. Then by all means, let us learn what we can, together.”
Four hours later, the pair have assembled a sizeable collection of books, and retired with them to a private chamber. Resister speaks, and Charlotte takes notes.
The picture is unclear. Separating real history from myth and legend will be difficult. The Hidden Family function something like the American CIA, if the CIA had disguised themselves as the Boogeyman. They appear in times of hardship to dispense wisdom or justice, but more often they intervene in darker ways, such as kidnapping a promising young scholar from her family and leaving behind a magical acorn.
One thing is clear. They don’t appear before the time Laki erupted.
Charlotte reviews her notes on this point, to be sure Resister concurs with what she’s gleaned.
“A volcanic fissure called Laki erupted between 1783 and 1784. The effect lasted for months. People called this time the Móðuharðindin, or Mist Hardships. The sulfur, acid, lava, and so on contaminated the soil. The poison destroyed half of the livestock, and half of the people eventually died, either from the toxins in the atmosphere or the resulting famine. It was hell and frost, all at once. Whole villages were swallowed up.”
“As a result, people emigrated. Some to America.”
Resister nods. “Before this, Iceland and Denmark had a close relationship. A thousand years after people first set foot on this rock, Icelanders were finally granted home rule. The Kalmar Union was a bond of kingdoms, born in response to the Hanseatic League of merchants and guilds. The island has never truly been under the control of those who wrested a life out of its unforgiving bedrock.”
Charlotte smiles. “You are surprisingly knowledgeable. Will you forgive a possibly impertinent question, and tell me whether you are Vyortovian yourself?”
Resister answers her question.
Charlotte blinks and shakes her head. “I beg your pardon. I must have been overcome for a moment. Will you repeat that?”
He does.
She finds that she can remember that he did answer her question, but that she cannot summon the answer herself.
She pauses, to consult the booklins. “What was just said to me?” she inquires.
They tell her.
She turns back to Resister. “My dear sir, I appreciate the value of a secret, but this is taking it a bit too far.”
The vigilante shrugs. His mask shows no expression otherwise. “I’m afraid it’s necessary for the moment. I understand your skepticism about me. I entreat you to put it aside and work with me. Mutual cooperation is and will remain to our advantage.”
A mystery, but perhaps one for another time.
“Very well.” Charlotte finishes her notes. “I think we have enough to act on. Our hypothesis is that the Hidden Family, or members of it, remained active both here and in the United States. Obadiah Everard, Thaddeus Letson, and my father were reputedly members of the group. If a ship came from Iceland in 1784 bearing members of the Hidden Family, making that connection via genealogy, and seeing who else was aboard that ship, may yield more interesting data.”
Resister nods. “Then may I suggest you pursue that line from the American side, and I will continue my reading here. We will exchange data in due course.”
“Agreed.” Charlotte stands, bows politely and gathers her things to depart. “A pleasure.”
“Likewise, Ms. Palmer.”