I lay there for another two hours while the employees puttered around, alternately listening to my stomach growl, dozing, and wondering what the hell I was going to do if Magda wouldn't help me.
An idea started to form. It wasn't anything I was proud of, and it definitely went against my better judgment, but if push came to shove, there might be a way out of the situation. I felt a little bit better when, two hours later, I crawled out from my beanbag cocoon and rallied my troops.
"Right, I'm going to go see my friend and pray she won't turn me over to the police. You guys stay here. If this bad reaper is human, like I am, he shouldn't be able to get in to the building to get you guys." I glanced around the darkened library, only a couple of security lights illuminating the interior. "I sure wish ghosts could read books and use the computer terminals. A little research into reapers and Ostri might be very helpful."
Karl looked from his wife to me. "But we can read books. I don't know about this computer terminal you mentioned, but I can read."
"I'm sure you can, but what I meant was more I wish you guys had the ability to interact with physical things."
"We can," Ulfur said. Ragnar nodded his head and snorted before munching the fabric of the nearest bean-bag chair.
"Really?" I reached out to touch him, my hand passing right through his arm. "Um…"
Ulfur smiled and the air around him shimmered. His body slowly solidified, going from its bluish translucent state to that of a solid form.
"Holy Jehoshaphat," I said, reaching out with a tentative fingertip. It met solid cloth. "I didn't know you could do that!"
"We can't for very long. It takes a lot of energy to have a physical presence, but it if will help you, we can try looking for some information."
"That would be immensely helpful," I said, relieved. "I don't suppose any of you can operate a computer?"
I wasn't surprised when no one offered to use the nearby computer. I suspected that drifting around aimlessly for a hundred years or more didn't lend itself to techno-savvy.
"Oh, all right, I'll do it," the snarky teen said when her mother, the woman named Ingveldur, gave her a non-too-gentle shove forward.
"You know about computers?" I asked the girl dubiously.
She tched and plunked herself down in that boneless way teen girls have. "I'm not stupid, you know. People do come to the village with laptops and mobile phones and Game Boys. What am I looking for?"
"Does that computer have Internet access?" I asked peering over her shoulder. She solidified and tapped on the keyboard. "Oh, excellent. Google Ostri, would you? And maybe reapers. And the Brotherhood of the Blessed Light. And while you're at it—"
She gave me a look that told me I was trying her nerves.
"Just Google whatever you can and print out anything that looks important. Will the rest of you be all right?"
My words were spoken to an empty room. Ulfur and Karl had taken charge of the villagers and spread them out to search the library for any books that might help.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," I told Marta as she came with me to the window. It didn't show any signs of being wired for an alarm, which I took as an indication of the low crime rate of this area. "Close the window after me, and don't let anyone in who isn't me. OK?"
"All right. But, Pia, the old sailor is still out there," she said worriedly.
"If I see him, I'll send him this way. Don't look so glum," I said, swinging my legs out the window and jumping down to the well-tended flower bed below. "I think our luck is about to change."
That seemed to pacify her. She smiled and waved as I glanced down the street, muttering softly to myself, "And I just pray it's not going from bad to worse."
Dalkafjordhur at night was surprisingly busy. I didn't know if it was the white-night phenomenon of twenty-four hours of sunlight, or if the town was just like that normally, but there were a lot of people out. Luckily, I knew where I would find the tour group—we were supposed to be attending a reenactment group's dinner in a Viking longhouse, complete with Old Norse poetry readings, and scenes enacted from historical sagas of the period.
I didn't have any trouble finding the fake longhouse, since it was a popular tourist site located near the park. I didn't even have any problem slipping in the back way, through what I assumed was the employees' entrance. But as I peeked out from behind a curtain marking the stage, I faced nothing but trouble. The longhouse center was taken up with long tables, at which my tour mates sat stuffing their faces with delicious-smelling salmon, fresh bread, and at least a half dozen other dishes.
My stomach growled with increasing loudness.
I ducked into a small room at the sound of voices coming out of the area I figured was the kitchen, a slow smile emerging as I eyed the various bits of Viking period costume.
"Well, you're not going to fool anyone knowledgeable," I told my reflection a short while later as I examined the ensemble I'd cobbled together from bits and pieces of costumes that would fit my abundant self. "But with the lights out, and everyone focused on the stage, you may get by with it."
I grabbed a wig of long black hair and clapped it onto my head, gave the wraparound linen apron dress that I'd pulled over my own gauze sundress a tug to hide as much of the modern flowery print beneath as possible, and grabbed a box filled with small bottles of water, hefting it to my shoulder to hide my face.
When I emerged from the back depths, the stage show was just starting, and the lights, as I had surmised, were lowered to highlight the actors. I scurried around the back of the tour group, pulling the long black hair around my face as I sidled forward with a murmur of "Water?" to the nearest members.
No one sent me a second glance. Denise sat tapping with irritated fingers on the table, looking sourly at the actors as they demonstrated a Viking ritual. Audrey was next to her looking tired and miserable. I had a pang of remorse for that, feeling certain she'd been through hell after I had run off.
Magda was at the far end with Ray. I hunched over and offered water to him first, then to her.
"Water?"
"No, thank you," Magda said without looking.
"I think you are going to want some," I said softly, leaning a bit closer to her while keeping an eye on everyone else.
"No, thanks," she repeated, still not looking at me.
I sighed to myself and nudged her on the back with the box. "Water is good for you. Take some."
She turned around with a slight frown, her eyes growing huge when I pulled the hair away from my face enough so she could see who I was.
"Take the water," I said softly, braced for flight. If she shouted and screamed, I'd throw the bottles at everyone and make a fast retreat back to the safety of the library.
She did neither, however, simply took the bottle of water I held out and watched me with huge eyes.
"The bathroom is in the back. You may need it after drinking all that," I said softly, with a meaning I was sure was clear.
She nodded and I slipped backward, into the shadows of the room, quietly making my way out to the rear rooms.
I didn't have long to wait. Magda entered the bathroom with a backward glance, carefully closing the door before turning on me. "Pia, what on earth is going on? What are you doing in that atrocious black wig? Why is Denise saying you murdered someone? And why were the police questioning everyone about you and a man you were with last night?"
I blinked at that last bit, irrationally focusing on the least important thing. "They know I was with a man last night? Who said so?"