Excuse me while I HYPERVENTILATE HERE.
Okay. Okay. It’s been an eventful few days around these parts. If anyone ever needs proof that a lot can happen in a short amount of time, they need look no further than ME, because I never in a million years expected ANY of this at the end of last year when I decided it might be fun to work for someone who communicated via butler.
I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind real quick. I’m still processing, and I still can’t reveal all of it, but I can tell y’all this:
I was RIGHT.
I was RIGHT, and because I was right and caught on without drawing unnecessary suspicion to myself, my whole career trajectory has changed. This is a good thing, I’ve been assured. This is apparently now an undertaking that involves the DemiTerran Council, royalty in the plural, and something I’d only heard of in the hushed tones someone talking about an urban legend or a ghost story might use: an Archival Partnership.
Do you understand how difficult it is to score an Archival Partnership on your own? The last one I can remember was when Braddock College got theirs with the Verse Historians a decade ago, and that was for Braddock’s entire Archival department. Yet an actual, honest to God scroll showed up at my house out of nowhere, informing me that “by the grace of THEIR Majesties and the DemiTerran Council” I’d been awarded an Archival Partnership with the British Order of Curiosities and Absurdities.
First order of business? Figure out what, exactly, the British Order of Curiosities and Absurdities is all about. Good thing I’d gotten used to off duty mystery solving. After I called the Nashville branch of the Magical Archives to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, they suggested I skip the middleman and go straight to the Royal London Magic College.
“Ugh, really?” I groaned.
“That’s the place to start if you’re looking for someone in the UK.”
Fine. I could handle RLMC snots for the time it took to make a phone call.
“Ohhh, the book goblin,” the girl at the RLMC told me when I got through. “Yeah, they’re out in the country because the other one needs room to fly. Aren’t you Queen Tyzarya’s American pet?”
“Bless your heart, darlin, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied. That bless your heart was absolutely of the “fuck off, toots” variety, just so you know.
“Anyway, that’s them. Curious and Absurd. Sounds right up your alley.”
She at least gave me contact information while she was insulting me. Cool. At least I won’t have to have my insurance pay for the removal of a large stick from my ass; maybe her NHS covers anal stick removal? Bet the entirety of the RLMC got that plan if it does.
Okay, so the British Order of Curiosities and Absurdities consisted of a “book goblin” and someone who needed room to fly. Considering I sort of am maybe, possibly her Aethereal Majesty’s “American pet,” my first thought was that the other member of this team was a Pixling. Not the weirdest pair I’d ever heard of. Their website is cute, which was a plus. It looked like they were…some sort of DemiTerran publishing house, maybe? I filled out the contact form the website provided and saw that I’d been correct in my assumption that the not “book goblin” was a Pixling. The British Order of Curiosities and Absurdities is run by two women, Gwynni and Amarilys. Gwynni is a Pixling and Amaryilys is…actually a Goblin.
Ohh. She’s a “book goblin” because she’s a Goblin who works in publishing. Get it together, JJ, jeez.
There better be flying books at the British Order of Curiosities and Absurdities every single day.
I sent the contact form on their website on a Monday; the next morning a reply was sitting in my in box. The BOCA (not to be confused with “mouth,” although it’s oddly appropriate here) had been getting ready to message me before my email arrived. They knew all about me. They were excited to begin what they hoped would be a “long and friendly partnership.”
I think we should probably schedule a Zoom if that works on your end? I replied. Y’all have me at a disadvantage here.
Absolutely. We’re terribly curious, let’s not lie-how many Terrans can say they’ve been recommended by the Pixie Queen? Gwynni’s mam almost croaked when she told her THAT.
Well, there’s part of the mystery solved. One of “Their Majesties” was indeed Queen Tyzarya. Hmm.
We worked out our time differences and scheduled the Zoom. BOCA’s office is a literal Goblin Hill with a huge, gorgeous tree growing out of the top of it in the middle of nowhere, UK. I know this because Gwynni the Pixling started off the call roosting in the huge, gorgeous tree and she was kind enough to turn the camera when I gushed about how I’ve wanted to visit the British countryside since I was in third grade. Gwynni is young and adorable and has wings that look like stained glass; she’s “the fluttery Face” of BOCA’s operations, she explained after we introduced ourselves.
“The face like the one who does all the marketing and promos and stuff?” I asked.
“Sure, Goblins are homebodies. Aren’t they that way in the States?”
“I’m pretty sure we don’t have Goblins here that didn’t immigrate from somewhere else. They’re not native to the US, I don’t think. I’ve never met one personally.”
“They are not like you might have seen in books. Just so you know.” Gwynni warned.
“I figured.” I assured her. “So if you’re the fluttery Face, does that make Amarylis the..I dunno, grounded Goblin?”
“She’s never met a cuppa or a fuzzy sweater she didn’t like.” Gwynni laughed. “Come on, I’ll take you in so you can see for yourself.”
Sure enough, when Gwynni and her tablet and I flew through the hollow in the tree into the Goblin Hill turned fantasy study straight out of Tolkien and I met Amarylis, she had a cup of something in her hand and a grandma sweater over a pair of the cutest comfy hippie overalls you’ve ever seen in your life. She was also surrounded by books and papers in instantly recognizable creative chaos.
“Look, it’s our Archivist!” Gwynni announced. “Break time, Amarylis, that will all be there once we’re done. JJ’s never met a Goblin personally before.”
“We’re not like the books say, you know.” Amarylis insisted. “Do I look that short to you? You look like you’re about as tall as I am. And we don’t hoarde, we collect.”
“People tend to think that Storyspinners are all a bunch of liars and that Southerners are all a bunch of racist idiots, so I feel you. Same neighborhood, different street I suppose.” I assured her. “You’re setting the standard for every single Goblin I meet from now on.”
Nobody can ever say I’m not a charming conversationalist. Besides, I figured it was in my best interest to get off on the right foot with these two. Call me crazy.
“Right, Jeeves has already been in contact. He seems quite impressed with you.” Amarylis smiled.
“Her Aethereal Majesty says you have moxie. That’s a great sign.” Gwynni added.
“Wait a second, Jeeves?” I asked.
It was at this point I realized what Amarylis actually said. The guy she knew as Jeeves had been in contact and was impressed with me, because he was also Wadsworth.
“Um…Jeeves? Butler to His Majesty? Haven’t you been in contact with Jeeves for the past six months? That’s what he says.”
Amarylis and Gwynni looked confused. This might have been due to my face, which I’m sure looked incredibly what in the hell is happening here?! during this part of our conversation.
“Wait. You mean…that guy’s name is actually Jeeves? And he’s a butler? Come on, seriously?”
“Mmhmm, yes, butler to His Majesty.” Amarylis nodded.
“Has been for my whole life.” Gwynni smiled. “Anyway, His Majesty has decided that your Archival work with the kingdom is important enough to publish, isn’t that grand?”
“Queen Tyzarya told him we were just the firm for the job. We’re modern enough to serve but small enough for that personal touch.” Amarylis said.
“Wait, what? Publish? Like…a book? Of random notes and whisperward transcriptions and Dangerous & Adored episodes?”
“Oh, much more than that, although that’s been lovely. You’re about to get reams of information between now and November. Enough to keep you busy for weeks.”
“I am?”
I was? From where? Why just between now and November? I wouldn’t get an Archival Partnership for something that only lasted for a little over five months.
“Well, we can’t be positive His Majesty will accomplish what he needs to on his end before then, but Jeeves thinks it’s very likely. Something about fading warding spells and coming of age. I don’t know, Goblins don’t age like that.” Amarylis shrugged.
“My dad is Terran. My Terran grandparents lived until they were ninety-three though, that’s gotta give me a good shot!” Gwynni did a little fluttery twirl, which lifted her off the ground a bit and earned her a look from Amarylis when the wind from her wings knocked some papers off a creative chaos pile. They both turned towards the camera and smiled at me.
“You’re going to archive the whole thing. Isn’t that exciting? They don’t want it to sound like a boring history book; you’re allowed to make it fun as long as you keep to the facts as much as you can. Then we’ll work our magic when you’ve done the writing bit.” Gwynni said.
“We’re used to royal twins,” Amarylis assured me. “This might not be quite as big of an adventure as the last pair, but lord only knows when royals are involved.”
I didn’t tell my two delightful new friends that they confirmed what I suspected for weeks without them knowing it, nor did I let on that hearing “you’re going to archive the whole thing” made me a bit woozy for a second, because that could mean not just a book but books plural. I only smiled, got to know them, got instructions, and kept it professional. We were looking at a long and friendly partnership, after all. Plenty of time to let them see that I’m deeply unserious most of the time. Maybe that’s what got me this gig in the first place.
All I know is that when you find out that you’ve just been promoted to royal archivist for His Majesty the Elf King, you take the job and hold all questions until the end of the presentation. I might be well informed, but I know how this stuff works.
I might croak if I find out that Wadsworth really is Jeeves, though. That’s a lot of ridiculousness even for me.
xo JJ
No way you met a hill giant, aren't they extinct?? Also, are you SURE that wasn't just your delightful Sireny charms peeking out? 😘
Giggly folks I can handle. It's those RLMC snots that would be a PROBLEM.
Oh, yes. We got that partnership, and I don't mind saying it's been a load of trouble, too. Why, one day I had to stay on the phone for the better part of six hours with one of their rare books curators - some weirdo almost seven feet tall (that I'm sure is part hill giant) whose name I can't remember. I just call him "Lurch" because that's what he looked like. Anyway, I was still pleased as punch that we got that partnership but I found out he only partly wanted actual help. Really he was just lonely and awkward and once he got on the phone with me he didn't really want to work, just flirt bashfully with me. >.< It's like buying something on Craigslist and then discovering you're stuck at the 60 year old bachelor's house with him showing you his collection of WWII airplane models.
And oh yes, she's a real goblin. And I know those two. Don't let them get into giggling fits or you'll never get another actual thing done for the rest of the day.
That partnership might *seem* awfully prestigious at first, but the luster wears off when you realize that *your* department actually gets stuff done and those weirdos just like to slack off all day. I swear, *that* must be the gig to have. Get your department absorbed by royals and then you can become a sort of aristocrat yourself; sit around and get paid to breathe air and wear a shiny title. >.< The rest of us have to actually do real work.