Monday, I went Underhill. I spent the morning in the library looking for other spells I might use to help us find the killer. I copied a few into a notebook. “There you are,” a voice said behind me, causing me to jump. I turned and saw the phantasm. Why hadn’t she faded out of existence when I left? “You still need me,” she said as if reading my mind. Had she faded, and I re-created her? Or was this the same phantasm? “I do?” I asked, not wanting to get into that. “Being alone in the world is taking a toll on you.” “I’m not alone. There are seven billion people in the world.” “But how many elves?” She fingered the tip of my ear. “I’m still not alone.” “Then why are you here?” “It’s the fall equinox. The clearing I use for worship is near the site of where the killer disposed of a body. I wanted to show respect and also stay out of the way of the investigators.” “Are you sure you didn’t want to conjure a crowd for tonight?” “I couldn’t create that many and have them last. I’m surprised you didn’t fade.” “Is all of this for finding the killer?” She gestured to my notes and books. “It is. Humans have so many regulations and limitations.” “I’ll help you find spells that shouldn’t violate anyone’s rights.” “Thanks.” “I’m here to help.” “If you’re going to be around, you should have a name. How about Fanny, short for phantasm?” She wrinkled her nose. “Fanny is also someone’s backside.” “You used the term construct. Do you want to be Connie? Or do you want an elf name?” “I have an elf name, even if we don’t know what it is. Connie will work.” “Are you planning on joining me for worship later?” She smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it.” *** By mid-afternoon, we had half the notebook filled with spells for me to take back and show the chief. We ate a dinner of food both brought from the human world and produce from my garden. Connie wrinkled her nose at the iron in the human food. I had to agree. I was used to it, so I didn’t normally taste it, but eating it side by side with local food, I could taste it again. We lit a bonfire in the glade and stripped. We danced to phantasmic music and sang praises to the gods. While I focused on Shandalar, Connie favored Omes, the goddess of mothers. I would have expected her to worship Shandalar since she was my construct. I must have heard the real woman worshiping Omes sometime, and it stuck in my subconscious. Connie had a beautiful voice, much better than mine. Other phantasms came and faded as the night drew on. I expected a crowd here, so my mind created them, but I couldn’t make them substantial enough for them to stay. It was the same as always when I came for worship, except for Connie. She was the one I danced with, and as midnight passed and dawn drew nigh, I pulled her close and did something I’d resisted for the centuries I’d been alone. She was the first elf I’d slept with, and she’d be the last, even if she wasn’t real this time. *** We woke the next morning in the glade. The fire still glowed, so I hoped it was the next day. I checked my phone. If it was right, it was Tuesday, but I should be leaving for work in a few minutes. I swore in three languages. I grabbed my clothes and the notebook and hurried back to my house, where I’d opened the passage to my apartment on Earth. “Bye,” Connie called. “Bye,” I said without looking back. I couldn’t get emotionally attached to her. She wasn’t real. I hurried through the passage. “Ahh!” I jumped at the sound, dropping my things and summoning my sword before I saw who it was. “Sean, relax. It’s me.” “Roy? What are you doing here?” “Checking on you.” I sent my sword away. “Why? What day is it?” “Tuesday. But it’s after nine.” “How did you get in?” “I talked to your landlord.” “Did you call the colonel?” I did not want him to get involved. “Not yet. I thought I’d check to see if you were back first. You want to put on some pants?” “No, I want a shower.” “Hurry up. I’ll call the station and let them know we’ll be late. Why are you naked?” “I just woke up. I saw the time and hurried home. I wasn’t expecting company,” I explained and headed for the shower. Roy had coffee and a Danish waiting for me when I was dressed. “What’s this?” He asked, looking at the notebook. “Spells.” I’d written in Elvish so he couldn’t read it. I’d have to make English descriptions for them for the chief. The chief said he’d consider them when I showed him. I figured he wanted to talk to the DA to make sure we could use them legally. I was okay with that because I’d chosen spells with that in mind.