(no subject)

*He was trying to find an old set of notes, for reference. And as always when going through old papers, he got distracted. No, distracted is too mild a word; waylaid, ambushed, dragged off his intended course by memories.*

*There's his notes for the D&D campaign he never did get to run. There's the sketches of Meg in a hypothetical superhero outfit. There's the hand-drawn map of a certain few city blocks in Los Angeles. There's his gift list from Christmas two years ago.*

*There --*

*Slowly, he sets down the rest of the stack of papers on the floor next to him, staring at the little ivory card with embossed script. May 31, 2005. Central Park. New York City.*

*The wedding of Warren Meers and Isabel Evans.*

*Andrew pulls a hand across his mouth and rests his chin against his curled fingers, and sits there on the floor, studying the card.*

(no subject)

Dear Professor Lyon,

I haven't seen you here in some time; I hope you still come here often enough to receive this letter.

I'm aware this is something of a presumption on my part, but I was wondering if you would be willing to undertake a small task as a favor. Under ordinary circumstances I wouldn't ask, but it's absolutely crucial that this be done by someone incorruptible, and you are the only individual I know with both the academic background and the moral alignment necessary.

I recently assisted a friend of mine, Kira Clemens, in defeating a witch who had summoned a demon (the demon Kyzchras, if that name means anything to you) with intent to arrange a mass human sacrifice in exchange for power. At the end of the fight, the witch was dead and Kyzchras banished back to his own dimension, but we were left with the book the witch had used to summon and bargain with him.

Kira wanted to destroy the book immediately. I strongly felt that it would be unwise to destroy it before at least learning what it contains, and convinced her. Unfortunately, the book is in an old Germanic language I don't recognize and can't translate -- and I can't ask Kira to trust me so far as to take it through to my world and have it translated there. I don't think it's the kind of book that has a corrupting influence on anyone who reads it, at least not in any supernatural way, but the risk is there.

However. I believe that you, Professor Lyon, would not be subject to the same risks; your nature is proof against either human temptation or demonic compulsion. In short, I believe that you are the only person I can trust with complete certainty, and thus ask Kira to trust, to safely translate this book.

Please let me know if you would be willing to. And if there's anything at all I can do for you in return, please ask.

Sincerely,
Andrew Wells