Library of Laughter Ch. 01

"No, not that kind of library." He laughed a little. "More, like, um... an underground library. From a long, long time ago."

"Ooh, now that sounds like somethin' out of an Indiana Jones story, doesn't it!" Brielle reached back, and without thinking, he plopped his phone and charging cord into her hand. She took it, finger brushing by his hand in a way that was almost potentially flirtatious, or just familiar, and started plugging it into the wall. "Like that... oh, what was it, the one o' Alexandria?"

Rufus wasn't sure whether to be more impressed that she could name the Library of Alexandria or that she'd seen Indiana Jones. "I guess it sort of is! There are all these theories about—" He cautioned himself not to go overboard. She sounded interested, but that could change quickly, in his experience. "—about an ancient library that was the source of all this ancient literature and learning. It would explain the common alphabets we've been digging up in these last few years, how everything seems so... connected."

"Oh, so like how y'find similar species an' work out tha' they must come from the same spot." Brielle was nodding. "Pangaea."

"Huh." Rufus blinked. "I... hadn't considered comparing it to Pangaea, but yes, exactly. Ogham—that's the alphabet of—" He realized he was explaining Celtic language to a resident of what was basically a Celtic village, and cut himself off. "Well, there are markings all over in it, right? Nothing unusual there. But recently, we've been finding signs that it's all much, much more... codified. Like someone was writing out manuscripts, literature. We find references to poems nobody's ever heard of, treatises nobody's read, quotes from philosophers that aren't recorded anywhere. And then there's the Flower Book—which you may not have heard of, but it was a big scandal when it came out. A whole text of writing in the language! Of course, it was supposedly disproven, but..."

"So ye think there's a source." She patted the phone fondly as it buzzed, beginning to charge. She moved to start watering one of the several potted ferns in her home. "Like a school, or a library."

"Well..." He gave a limp shrug. "Nobody can see a black hole, but they know it;'s there. It's become a popular theory among... some."

"Like Atlantis!"

Rufus cringed. "Yes. A little bit. An underground library, maybe lost to an earthquake or something. There's... decent evidence for it."

"Mmhm." It was clear that Brielle was losing interest, but she kept smiling and nodding politely. Rufus registered that she had watered the fern from a sink—so there was at least some indoor plumbing. "So did ye come here with a team, Rufus? A whole mess o' archeoloists ta stamp o'er everythin' an' plant flags? 'Cause I must tell ye, the folk of this town won't like that. We like visitors—not invaders." She winked. "Historically speaking."

He wink and tone were playful. The words were not. Rufus swallowed. "N-No. It's just me. I... don't have any team. Honestly, I'm... I'm really lost right now."

He looked out the window, and saw the young ladies from earlier chattering away and laughing. He bit his lip. If I can't understand half the people in town, and I have no outside support, how can I possibly put together any kind of serious investigation? What was I thinking? I'm a disgraced professor with no experience and no... no plan. Nothing at all.

He felt a poke in his shoulder. "Hey. Hey, Indiana." Rufus turned and saw Brielle giving a crooked smile. She reached forward and planted her sunhat on top of his head. "Ye need help. Lucky for ye, I need a job."

He blinked. "A... a job?"

"Oh, aye." She clasped her hands together at her waist, seeming a bit embarassed. "This village en't, um... what's the fancy word? Mostly we provide for each other. No big businesses, no big money. But if ye get money, there's things ye can buy. Books. Seeds. Extra little delights." She bit her lip. "An' I en't made much off my mushrooms in a time. Wrong season for it."

He stared, waiting. Hope was sparking up once again inside him.

"An'... I really bin wantin' ta take sometin' pretty for meself. But ye need means for that. An' I'm guessin' ye have some?" She blinked up at him. She had very thick lashes.

The question was phrased in such a naïve way, Rufus instinctively smiled. Recovering himself, he nodded. "I have funds, yes. I could pay for a guide and translator."

"A guide, hm?" She put a finger to her lips. "That's a new job for me."

"I need to explore the surrounding area. And I'll bet you know it better than anyone, don't you? You'd have to, to collect mushrooms yearly."

She beamed. "I do at that, I daresay!" Brielle thrust her hand forward. "Ye got yeself a deal, Professor."

"But I didn't..." Rufus bit back the objection. She was agreeing. He would pay her fairly, and she trusted he would. There was no need to quibble. Clearly, formal contracts just weren't done around here. They could sort out exactly what to pay her later.

He shook her hand. She smiled, and he felt her squeeze his hand a little. Her hand was soft and smooth, her fingers surprisingly dainty for those of a gardener. His skin was even smoother, from years spent among books and ink and clacking keyboards.

"Very good, then, Rufus," she said cheerfully, dancing away. "Your phone is chargin'. What say I be findin' ye a room to stay in fer the night?"

"But it's only—"

Rufus glanced out the window.

It was growing dark. The giggling well girls were gone.

He glanced down at the phone. The battery was fifty percent charged.

He stared at it in confusion.

I really must be tired, Rufus thought, sighing. He turned and followed after his new guide to the dale.

He hoped he'd chosen well.

~ ~ ~ ~

Brielle found him a place to stay, alright—the same two women who had helped him cool off earlier apparently lived alone (he wasn't sure if they were siblings or something else, and had no capacity to ask), and were only too happy to lend him the use of their upstairs room. He wasn't sure if Brielle had promised them anything in exchange, and hoped it wouldn't be more than he was prepared to pay. His hosts were certainly friendly.

He had funds, but not much.

The next morning, she met him at the old well. It was a hot day, and Rufus was wearing only a vest he'd been loaned by Ava and Siobhan and a pair of shorts. He was a bit uncomfortable in so little, but in this weather, it couldn't be helped—he needed his sense about him if he was going to seriously begin investigations.

"Agh, good morning, Professor!" Brielle walked up and hugged him. He stiffened a little reflexively, then hesitantly returned the hug with a small squeeze. So it's a more... touchy culture. Nothing to panic over. She pulled back, grinning, and gestured to her companion: A slight woman with long blonde hair done up in a topknot.

Brielle was wearing a simple shirt and skirt, but this woman was wearing the bare minimum, like him—a crop top and boyshorts. Her eyes were the same brilliant shade of green, though her eyelashes weren't as thick as Brielle's—a small distinction in an otherwise almost unnerving resemblance. But that eye color was common hereabouts.

"This is Tástáil Breathnach," Brielle said. "She's from off east, o'er the creek, aren't ye, Tástáil?

"Tass is fine," said the woman, walking up to them with a broad smile. There was something about that smile that set Rufus just slightly on edge. Or maybe it was the way she seemed to look him over, her eyes lingering on his exposed legs. "It's a pleasure, an' that's a fact. Ye must be the professor." She clicked her tongue approvingly. "Ye're a lot younger than I'd expected."

"Tass!" Brielle batted playfully at the new arrival, who only shrugged.

"Rufus Hastings," Rufus said, giving an unsure smile. He looked at Brielle, noting the familiar gesture. "So are you two... friends?"

"Agh, well..." Brielle preened a little. "We past the bridge mostly look well ta one another, an' Tass and I have met once or twice in passin'. But nay, she's na' here for a visit. She's an employee!"

"An employee?" Rufus blinked rapidly.

"Jes' here ta help carry the equipment," Tass chirped, gesturing meaningfully towards the woods. "Brielle figured ye might be wantin' someone ta handle heavy lifting."

"Heavy lifting." Rufus looked Tass over. She was a petite woman, not even coming up to his shoulder. She didn't seem very muscular. Fairly plump, really, though not unhealthily so.

Tass gave a mischievous grin, running her hands over herself modestly beneath his gaze. "Don't let me size fool ye, Ru—Professor. I'm na any great strength, but I've endurance. I won't be the first ta tire on this trip o' yours."

"Fair enough." Rufus nodded uncertainly, looking back to Brielle. "So you made the purchases I asked for? I was worried some of it would be, er... too high-tech, if you'll pardon me saying so."

Brielle giggled, slapping him on the shoulder. He jumped slightly as her fingers grazed his bare skin, though the contact only lasted a moment. The people here certainly were familiar. "Did ye think we din't have cameras or plaster?" she teased.

He gave a guilty smile. "You only have three outlets, with all due respect, and your computer looks like one of the artifacts we're hoping to dig up today."

"Agh!" Tass shook her head, nudging Brielle. "He's got you there, Miss. Watch this one."

"Hmph." Brielle gave a haughty sniff. "Let's be off, then." She walked over to the well and hefted up her pack, rapping her knuckles on the wheelbarrow for Tass's attention. "Miles ta go a-fore we sleep."

Rufus nodded and started to follow, but stopped short.

Tass hadn't followed after just yet. She was smiling at him, eyes sliding with plain curiosity over his arms—which, he realized, were abnormally pale from normally being covered.

Self-consciously, he ran his hands over his underarms and nodded. "A-After you, Miss Breathnach."

She kept smiling, her eyes strangely captivating. For a moment, he felt almost held—like he couldn't look away, even if he wanted to. Like he was held captive as she ogled him, studied him.

Then the spell broke, and she giggled, twirling to follow after Brielle. "O' course, Professor."

~ ~ ~ ~

Rufus was getting increasingly flustered by Tass, though she'd mostly behaved since the departure. As they wheeled out of town, heading into the woods, she and Brielle were like any other pair of giggling women to him—and every time they glanced his way, he bit his lip, wondering if they were talking about their employer.

As always, he tried to focus on the work. They were heading out into a part of the marsh where Brielle had seen some old structures and stones. Probably nothing too old, but it was worth checking out, all the same.

The marshlands were quite heavily wooded. In fact, the deeper they went, the thicker the trees grew—as well as the ferns. He had to choose his steps carefully to avoid tripping, though Tass, true to her word, was having no trouble with her wheelbarrow.

As they went, Rufus studied the surroundings, taking notes in his sketchpad (apparently, the phone was having trouble charging, so he'd decided to leave it to finish today) on the ecology. Interestingly, he didn't recognize many of the plant species—though being no silviculturist, this was no great surprise. Ferns were remarkably prevalent, making it feel almost less like a moor and more like a temperate rainforest.

And it didn't feel that temperate today, as the sun climbed towards the top of the sky.

With this much general organic material, a lot could have been buried or concealed over the years. Every time Rufus brushed a fern out of the way, his heart gave a tiny leap, half-expecting to find something of interest behind it. So far, the most interesting thing he'd found had been a particularly large puffball, which Brielle had been eager to make a note of on her mushroom maps.

"The big ones en't much for eating," she'd explained, "but more will grow here next year, an' I can get to 'em a-fore they get all like tha' one."

After some time walking, they came upon a deep chasm in the ground. It was essentially a ditch—a very wide, very long one. Plants grew all over its sides, but the bottom was covered with smooth river stones.

"There's a creek here durin' the autumn months," Brielle said cheerfully, hopping down in one smooth bound. The river stones clicked together a little as she landed. "But there's a pretty interestin' carvin' a bit of a ways off."

Rufus chewed his pen skeptically. "Anything really old would have been eroded away by the water, probably."

"Well, it sorta has been, actually." She beckoned, giving a big grin. "C'malong, then!"

Tass parked her wheelbarrow and walked over to the edge, glancing down. She whistled. "Bit of a drop for one my size, an' the wheels won't go into this barrow, Miss."

"This won't take long. If it's nothin', we'll come back up."

"Alright!" Tass flashed Rufus a smile and bowed, gesturing towards the ditch.

Rufus walked over and hesitated. It was a bit of a jump.

"I can harness ye, if ye prefer," Tass said, her tone very gently mocking.

Rufus snorted. "I'm fine."

He bit his lip, then jumped down. His feet landed heavily in the gravel, making him glad he was wearing a solid pair of boots. He staggered a moment, and Brielle reached out as if by reflex to catch him by the shoulder.

As her fingers grazed under his arm, he flinched. She drew back, looking apologetic.

He managed to straighten. Brielle turned away, her face reddening a little, and started walking down the river.

Feeling a little flustered for a different reason, he glanced up, wondering if his other 'employee' had noticed the brief exchange.

But Tass was nowhere to be seen.

~ ~ ~ ~

Brielle led him south down the dry creek bed. Aside from their conversation, and the general sounds of the marsh, the most prominent sound was the reliable click-click-click of their shoes on the pebbles.

"It really is a little bizarre," he commented, as they tucked beneath an enormous spiderweb (the not-so-enormous spider inside danced its little legs at them in greeting). "This ditch shouldn't be this steep, or this deep. The creek should have widened it out over time."

"Well, it's na' a natural ditch," Brielle said, pushing some dangling fern branches above her head. "It's brick, or cobble or sometin', I think. The green makes it hard to tell, is all."

"Really? I—ah!" He twitched as the ferns she had lifted fell back on him as he passed under, tickling his shoulder a little. Brielle didn't seem to notice. "I didn't notice any bricks."

But as he studied the walls, he started to notice little patches of what he'd first taken for river stones caught up in the banks—which were, he realized, actually solid rock. Brielle was right. This was an artificial ditch.

He stopped short. "Wait. What?"

"What?" Brielle stopped and turned around, cocking her head. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just—" He was blinking rapidly. "Why would someone create a ditch like this? Especially one meant to last so long? It can't be practical for irrigation, especially not for small settlements."

"Um..." Brielle's head tilted. "It's only a ditch. I s'pose we never really put our heads to the 'why' of it."

"Of course, of course. Just..." He looked around him, boggling at how he hadn't noticed how plainly unnatural the arch of the ditch was. It was almost a perfect U-shape. "This is not a normal structure. And I assume your village didn't build it?"

"Hm. I couldn't say so. What use have we for an unnatural creek bed miles from home?"

"Who else lives in the dale?"

"Past the bridge? Hm..." Brielle started walking again, as if to jostle her memories. He followed, continuing to marvel at their unnatural surroundings. "There's our town, there's a few clusters to the east—that's Tass's folk, they live a few miles east o' here, actually—an' a few scattered farms outside the marsh."

"Like the family west of your village."

Her stride slowed a moment, then resumed. "Na' everyone much cares for the old ways. I get it. But tha' family... they've been livin' there a while, an' I expect they'll still be there when I die." She sniffed. "An' they'll still be a lot of goat's arses."

"They seemed scared of you. Your village, I mean."

"Ha! I'm sure they were, Rufus." She shot him an unsteady look. "A lot of people are. Tass's folk were, too, just a few years ago. Then..." She scratched her head. "I dunno. I s'pose people seem to come around eventually."

"Tass seemed pretty at home in town."

"O' course she did." But Brielle sounded definitely off-balance now. "The village is the center o' everyt'ing in this here dale. Some o' the village folk... well, they travel a lot. Almost like missionaries, but jus' tryin' to keep people happy, at ease wit' one another, as I understand it. We don't want a return to the Troubles."

"You faced the Troubles here?" Rufus realized he'd firmly set this dale as a bubble kingdom, and the idea of anyone here caring who ruled any part of Ireland felt almost absurd to him.

"Well... more like the Troubles spilled in. Too many folk let 'em. An' before that..." Brielle took in a heavy breath. "There's a lot o' evil in the world. The folk of this dale are strange at times in their ways, but whenever I hear o' the war an' blood outside it, I know we likely got the better deal, din't we?"

"I suppose you did." Rufus pointed up ahead. Brielle turned to look. "Is that it?"

"Aha!" Her sour mood forgotten—or at least reburied—she pranced ahead, kicking off her shoes, and sprang into a part of the ditch that was deep enough for the summer remnants of the creek to reach. In the rainy season, Rufus reflected, as he followed, this whole trench would no doubt be a rushing current, but for now what lingered of the creek lay tranquil down here.

Brielle splashed her feet in the cool water, letting out a long, happy sigh. She beamed at him, raising a foot and wiggling her toes. "Ye should come in! It's a lovely feel after all this walkin'."

Rufus swallowed, trying not to look directly at her arching sole or nimble toes. "Um... I should hold off a while. I want to take a look at him first."

"Hm? Agh, right." Brielle turned to the third occupant of this part of the creek bed.

Rufus understood exactly what Brielle had meant about the carving having been "sorta" eroded. This thing was a bit of a marvel, really.

Once, the work had clearly stood upon a stout stone pillar—as thick as a redwood trunk, at least, rising about six feet off the ground. But the annual rapids had eroded away its base, creating an extremely narrow, almost downright spindly bottom that widened out as it got higher, further above the standard flow. Had it not been for the work's flawless symmetry, the base would have surely snapped years ago.

And at the top, where the base had scarce eroded at all, was a large, erect, stone penis.

Rufus walked over to the carving, examining it without even a trace of hesitance. Crude carvings were nothing new to his field (though the stuffier professors certainly did their best to pretend they didn't exist), and he'd never seen one quite so... lovingly rendered. He wanted to make sure that he did it justice in his notes.

"Quite a needy thing, en't he?" Brielle remarked.

"Hm? Oh, yes." In his notes, he scribbled: Erect. Not circumcised, but with foreskin pulled down. Highly detailed.

"You havin' fun there, Rufus?"

"Hm." Rufus was half-registering her words, and the tone was lost to him as he wrote, Covered in carved vines—maybe ivy or ferns, but too eroded to tell if there is exact species in mind. "So, I know it's a cliché to assume 'fertility ritual', but now I'm really starting to wonder about this trench."