Using a flashlight, she recorded the titles of the archived books on a notepad for future entry into the University Library catalogue. She had just completed the top row when a sudden glint of reflected gold from above the shelves caught her eye, and when she redirected the flashlight, she discovered the gilded edges of an ancient book laying flat on top of the bookcase.
Fiona slid the giant book off of the top shelf, hefted it over her head, and was showered by a plume of fine white dust as she balanced unsteadily on the rickety wooden ladder. She set it down awkwardly, dropping the flashlight in the process, and as the ancient volume rested on the top step, she struggled to make out the title in the faint glimmer of light coming through the grated cellar window behind her. The book was several inches thick, almost a yard square, and nearly her equal in weight. She wondered how long it had rested here in this dreadful dungeon, untouched by human hands. Cautiously descending several steps on the ladder, she balanced on the last rung and felt a chill run through her as her stockinged foot touched the damp cellar floor in search of her empty shoes. "Hopefully, they're empty," she said under her breath, sliding her stockinged feet into the cold damp shoes and imagining the unseen creatures that might be lurking and skittering just beyond the edges of her vision.
She held the book in front of her as she traced her way through the labyrinth of bookcases and finally made her way up the steps and into the afternoon light of the Library. She found a large worktable in an out of the way corner and placed the book there while she went off to wash her hands. Looking in the mirror, she could see that her face was covered in grime. She brushed off her blouse and skirt as well as she could, and washed her hands and face in the sink.
Fiona shook off a chill as she sat down facing the book. She hadn't been in the cellar for very long, but she felt as if the cold dampness of it clung to her somehow. She kicked off her loafers once more and pulled her legs under her as she knelt on the chair. Surprisingly, the book itself was not cold, in fact, it felt slightly warm to the touch. She opened the cover carefully, expecting the pages to be yellowed and brittle, but her eyes were met with brilliant displays of colored etchings on smooth white paper that could have been made this morning by the looks of it. The main text was written in a language she could not immediately decipher, because it consisted of runes rather than letters. The characters had some familiar features, but the structure of the text was completely foreign to her. Halfway through the page, the text changed abruptly to another form, equally unintelligible, but unmistakably Celtic in origin.
Fiona had studied ancient texts here at the University for seven years, cataloging the vast archives of Edinbrugh as part of her doctoral thesis, and she knew of some reference books that might help her. Her socks were only slightly damp now, and she dreaded putting her feet into the cold wet shoes again. Maybe she could pad over to the language section in her socks without being seen by anyone. It wasn�t far, and the Library was deserted. Fiona stepped to the doorway and stood still, listening to make certain she was alone. She walked twenty feet into the main hall and stopped again, thinking she heard someone. �Calm down,� she told herself. She had seen other girls in the Library with their shoes off before, but she always felt self conscious about being properly dressed. Before she could resolve her internal debate, she heard footsteps at the far end of the hall, and scampered back to her work table, heart pounding in her chest.
She quickly located her shoes under the table, slipped them on, and headed off in search of the reference materials. Returning with several more large volumes, she sat down and slipped her feet out of her shoes again and began to translate. It became apparent that the subject of this book was science, or what passed for science in the time that it had been written. References to astrological factors and spoken incantations were abundant, but there were also geometric calculations for numerous siege engines and other devices of war. She leafed through the pages admiring the beautiful color pictures that adorned each chapter. Her eye caught a particularly brilliant depiction of a man standing atop a castle wall addressing an army of warriors that were unclothed.
Fiona heard footsteps and her stockinged feet quickly felt around under the table for her shoes and slipped them on. She closed the book, marking the page with her finger, and waited as the footsteps receded. She had always been uncomfortable with nudity, even in classical art. She glanced around the room to see if anyone was watching her. The library was empty, and she noticed the wall clock was showing 10:30. She must have been at this for hours and not realized the time. "It's not like I'm reading Playgirl or anything," she chided herself, smiling. She opened the book again and slipped her stockinged feet halfway out of the damp loafers, lazily sliding the shoes around on the tile floor as she read. As she scanned through the text she thought she recognized a word that meant raiment, or clothing, and scanned further. At the bottom of the page she saw a phonetic translation in what seemed to be an earlier form of Latin.
She knew exactly where to find a reference source for the Latin text, and she slid her shoes out from under the table again. Her knee socks were finally dried, and she hesitated before putting them into the damp loafers again. Fiona held her breath and listened hard. She glanced around the room furtively to make certain that she was completely alone. Drawing a deep breath, she headed across the library in her stockinged feet. Her soft socks felt slippery on the polished tile floor as she padded silently through the languages section, retrieving several volumes on early Latin. Fiona looked at her white stockinged feet against the dark tile floor. It was really no big deal after all she thought, walking around in her socks, what if someone did see her, so what? But then suddenly she thought she heard someone, and she raced all the way back to the table, her stockinged feet sliding wildly around every corner on the way.
Breathless, she resisted putting on her shoes again, and sat at the table examining the book once more. After consulting several of the reference books, she had put together a rough translation. As near as she could tell, it said something like, "Would that the raiment of them be returned to the earth after the penultimate second to the apex of Lunea." She reread the line preceding the Latin aloud, although it made no sense to her at all. The words, although spoken softly, seemed to hang solidly in the air. She repeated them several more times. It was as if she could almost detect some thread of meaning in the sounds, but comprehension was just beyond her, eluding her grasp. "Morinthis oplae nolokis�" she began again, listening to her own voice repeat the unknown words over and over again, searching for insight as to their meaning.
Fiona was startled by the voice behind her, and she was visibly shaken when she turned to see Miss Glascon standing in the doorway. "I'll be locking up at Midnight you know," Miss Glascon said. Fiona's face blushed deep red as her stockinged feet scrambled unsuccessfully to locate her shoes under the table. Miss Glascon glanced disapprovingly at her empty loafers, but her attention was drawn to the open book on the table. "What have you found here?" she asked, as she walked up next to Fiona's chair.
"I was down in the archives," Fiona said nervously, as the frantic search for her shoes continued under the table, "...and I found this book on top of the bookcase. I guess it was to big to fit on a shelf," Fiona told her. She watched the librarian run a finger across the flawless page.
Miss Glascon looked like a head librarian. She was dour looking, thin, and wore a grey or black suit nearly every day of the year. She had auburn hair pulled back severely in a bun, and wrapped with a ribbon just in case any coiffure escape was attempted. Her glasses were always riding low on the end of her nose, and a chain hung from the sides and looped over her shoulders and behind her neck. Black stockings traced the lines of her shapely legs, but the lines ended ruinously in a pair of black, thick-heeled, lace-up shoes that had probably popular with the previous fifteen or twenty head librarians, some nuns, and hardly anyone else. The overall effect conveyed a look of mature severity, although Fiona was sure the Miss Glascon could not be more than a half dozen years older than she was, certainly no more than forty.
"What an extraordinary volume!" Miss Glascon exclaimed.
Fiona conceded to herself that her shoes had gone missing and temporarily abandoned the search under the table. She hoped that the librarian would go about her business soon, but instead, Miss Glascon pulled up a chair.
Fiona's heart sank when she heard a sliding sound under the table. It sounded as if Miss Glascon had accidentally kicked one of the missing shoes across the floor. She pulled her stockinged feet underneath her and felt her cheeks blushing hotly as Miss Glascon examined the etching of the unclothed men. "I was trying to decipher this," she said, pointing to the words above the Latin based text, anxious to divert attention away from the nude pictures, as well as her stockinged feet.
"Morinthis oplae nolokis�" Miss Glascon began reading. Fiona noted that she pronounced each word exactly the way that Fiona had. She read it aloud several more times. "Any clue to what it means?" she asked Fiona, who shrugged and returned her attention to the book. Miss Glascon turned to the next page and there was more text that seemed to be some archaic form of Latin. "The later text suggests that it is some incantation intended to render the armored garments of the enemy ineffective. Before battle, women would be sent into the enemy camps to repeat this incantation over and over, in hopes of causing their armor to fail. "Morinthis oplae nolokis�" they both read in unison, as Miss Glascon turned back to the picture. "You see there?" she pointed with a manicured fingernail. "The battle gear of the opposing army has fallen to the ground." They viewed the large and complex picture in silence for several minutes. Miss Glascon consulted her watch to see that it was twenty minutes before midnight. "I must prepare to lock up for the evening," she said. "I'll be fifteen minutes or so, but you must prepare to leave before then."
As soon as Miss Glascon was gone, Fiona dove under the table to retrieve her shoes and quickly thrust her feet into them. Wet or not, she vowed to herself that she would never take them off in public again for any reason.
With her shoes firmly in place again, she returned her attention to the text. "Morinthis oplae nolokis�" she said again. What did it mean? She looked at the Latin text. "Lunea" she said aloud. "Penultimate. It begins at the moment before midnight," she said aloud, suddenly understanding another small piece of the puzzle. She wrote a few quick notes and gathered her things, determined to be at the Library first thing in the morning, as soon as the doors opened again.
Ten minutes before the stroke of midnight, Fiona shuffled down the main steps in front of the Library, absentmindedly holding the handrail, completely lost in thought. Her breath hung like a cloud in the cold and still night air, as she paused to pull her scarf tight around her neck against the chill. It was well above freezing outside, but the air was damp and a thick blanket of snow on the ground made for a hazy fog that hung heavily in the streets. The old city was empty as she walked toward the center of town and the solitude combined with the low visibility of the fog made her rush along nervously. As she turned a corner, she lost her balance on an icy patch, and stepped right out of her left shoe, nearly tumbling headfirst into a light pole, and scattering her papers across the sidewalk. She searched momentarily for her shoe, but her attention was refocused on the windblown papers that were threatening to take flight. She sidewalk felt icy under her toes through her stocking as she scrambled to gather up her papers and things. She quickly pushed the loose papers into a book and searched the sidewalk for her lost shoe, but there was no sign of it anywhere. She looked in the street, but there was no trace of it there either. As she hobbled around looking, her mind raced ahead. What if she couldn't find it? What if she was stranded her in the center of town without a shoe? This was far worse than the Library.
And things were not improving. Now Fiona could hear voices through the fog, and looking up the street, she could make out the shapes of approaching figures. She steadied herself against the light pole and brushed the wet snow from her soft white sock while balancing on her remaining shoe. It was Dr. McCullough, and some other faculty members walking in a group, and talking loudly. Dr. McCollough was Dean of the Antiquities Department, and her thesis advisor as well. Fiona resisted the urge to flee, and hid her stockinged foot under her raincoat. For the second time in an hour, she was about to meet a senior faculty member in her stockinged feet. At least it had been warm in the library she thought. Fiona felt a chill and shuddered, but not entirely from the cold.
"Good evening sir," Fiona said as Dr. McCullough rounded the corner.
"Good Evening, Fiona," he replied, and introduced several companions, including the Vice-Chancellor of the University. "What on earth are you doing out here at this hour?" Dr. McCullough asked. Before she could answer, he pointed to a sheet of yellow notepaper resting near the curb. "Is that yours?" he asked.
"Yes I'm sure it must be," she said nervously, but made no move to retrieve it. There was an uncomfortable pause until finally, she stepped away from the pole. Dr. McCullough bent to pick up the paper for her at precisely the same moment, and in addition to almost cracking her head against his, she had nearly stepped on his hand with her stockinged foot. She leapt back and quickly retracted her foot from view.
None of the others appeared to have noticed the odd exchange between them, but Dr. McCullough seemed out of sorts as he handed her the rumpled page.
"Is everything alright Fiona?" he asked staring hard at her.
"Quite all right, Dr. McCullough," she said, meeting his gaze for a brief instant, but quickly averting her eyes. "I'll just wait here for my ride to come," she lied, "should be along any minute now." She didn't know how much longer she could balance here on one foot.
"You're certain then. Perhaps we could wait here with you..." he said, motioning to the rest of the group.
"God No!" she screamed in her head, but managed a weak smile. His attention was considerate, she thought, but excruciating under the circumstances. "I'll be fine. Really."
The doctor and his colleagues disappeared into the hazy night, and Fiona cautiously set her stocking clad toes on the sidewalk again, hobbling around and searching for her missing shoe. She peered down into the waste can next to the light pole, although there was no way her shoe could have gotten into there. Suddenly, her heart skipped and she stepped back quickly, setting her stockinged foot down on the snowy curb. There was a dead bird, or a dead something or other, right next to the can where she had been standing. Her heart pounded in her chest. It wasn't a bird but what the...
Balancing on one shoe again, she bent at the waist to examine the thing without getting any closer. It was a shoe, her shoe, or what was left of it. Just a pile of black leather scraps really, as if someone had unsewn every stitch in it, and then shredded it for good measure. "It begins at the moment before midnight," she said aloud. In reality, Fiona knew that the text of the ancient book could not possibly be responsibly for her shoe falling apart. After all, she had nearly ruined them herself walking through the snow this afternoon. Still, irrational fear pulled at her as she warmed her snowy sock against her leg and considered what to do next.
Fiona decided against walking all the way home with one shoe. It was just too far, and besides, she was already cold. She set her apprehension aside, and headed back in the direction of the library, where hopefully, she would find Miss Glascon still closing up for the night. She put all thoughts of the mysterious book out of her mind and started down the street again, walking quickly with her stockinged foot chasing her loafer down the icy pavement. After pausing on the corner to warm her toes against her leg again, she started across the street to the library. In the middle of the road, she felt a sudden draft run through her, and she nearly tripped on the white fabric of her blouse that had fallen from under her coat, landing on the ground around her feet like a pile of rags.
She gasped at the sudden chill and stood there in shock as her mind raced several steps ahead. She imagined herself running through Edinburgh in her underwear, or even less. Shivering, she pulled her coat tight around her naked shoulders, and headed across the street desperate to find Miss Glascon as quickly as possible. As it turned out, that was not too difficult.
"Miss Glascon!" she cried. Miss Glascon was standing knee deep in the snowy lawn furiously searching for something on the ground. "Miss Glascon!" she called out again.
"Fiona, dear, is that you?" Miss Glascon said, turning in her direction, but not really looking at her. "Perhaps you might assist me. The seam of my purse has given way, and I've lost my wallet and keys along with everything else. And then, while I was searching, I seem to have lost my glasses as well, and I can't see a thing without them." She appeared disoriented and wavered unsteadily in the deep snow.
"Hold on Miss Glascon!" Fiona looked down at the white cable knee sock on her foot that was showing signs of wear, and debated giving Miss Glascon some verbal support from the relative safety of the sidewalk.
"Oh dear!" Miss Glascon waved her arms wildly over her head. "Oh Lord, I seem to have lost my bloody shoe as well! Fiona! Please help me. Hurry! Please!" Fiona could see Miss Glascon's jet-black stockinged foot kicking wildly in the air as she tried to hold her exposed toes up and out of the snow while balancing on one leg.
Fiona plunged her white stocking into the snow bank and trudged off across the lawn in the direction of Miss Glascon. But before she had covered half the distance, Miss Glascon shrieked and fell backward into the snow with both of her stockinged feet bare, held high in the air and waving about furiously.
"Miss Glascon," Fiona said, "We have to get out of here!" Just as she reached out with her hand, she was illuminated by the headlights of a car.
"Alright then, what's going on here?" the policeman called out through the haze.
"Nothing sir," Fiona said quickly, and added, "My friend and I...we were just having a snowball fight, that's all." Miss Glascon stared up at her
dumbfounded.
"Well I'll not have you disturbing the peace at this hour, so you'd best be moving on," the policeman told them sternly.
Fiona wondered whether the man could see her through the fog well enough to notice the strands of red and white wool that had been her skirt a moment ago, and were now strewn across the snow all around her.
"I lost my shoes in the snow," Miss Glascon cried, but the policeman was already in the car and driving away. "He could have helped us," she said dejectedly, looking up at Fiona.
Fiona stood on one foot and tried to keep her stockinged toes from dipping into the snow as the last remnants of her skirt fell from under her coat. She looked down at Miss Glascon�s nyloned soles, jet black at the heels and toes, and sheer everywhere else. Fiona tried to brush away some of the slushy snow clinging to the black nylon with her fingers, causing Miss Glascon to recoil, pulling her feet back and resting her silken toes lightly on the hem of her overcoat.
"If you would just be so kind as to locate my shoes..." Miss Glascon started tersely, clearly annoyed with her ungainly position. Even lying there on her back, charcoal grey skirt hiked up to mid thigh, stranded shoeless in the snow with her stockinged feet stretching skyward, Miss Glascon was a stern and imposing woman. Her auburn hair had long since escaped it's bonds and fell freely over her shoulders, and without her ever-present eyeglasses, her eyes conveyed a burning intensity that gave an overall appearance of a hidden smoldering beauty about to erupt or catch fire. She reminded Fiona of Emma Peel on "The Avengers" TV show.
"It's not exactly a matter of location," Fiona stammered, choosing her words carefully because she could see Miss Glascon was losing patience. She took several steps in the wet snow before locating the scraps of leather that had been Miss Glascon�s shoes and handed them to her. "They�ve self destructed, your shoes have I mean, like the pictures in that old book I found."
"They were old," Miss Glascon snapped back, "and quite inexpensive. They must have gotten wet or something. But I fail to see what any of this has to do with any books. Now if you could please help me locate my keys and my glasses, I believe I have an identical pair of shoes in my office."
"My shoe fell apart in the exact same way," Fiona said, holding up her stockinged foot and flexing her snowy toes for Miss Glascon to see. "And then my blouse fell to pieces as well, and my skirt has unraveled and blown away as we stood here just now." The description would have to suffice, as there was no way Fiona was going to open her coat to prove it.
"Ridiculous!" Miss Glascon snorted, but even as she spoke, her overcoat was beginning to disintegrate underneath her. She held up her arm and watched incredulously as her black wool coat sleeve reverted to clumps of thread and fell away from her arm. She bolted to her feet, plunging her nyloned toes into the snow again, and then started dancing about and shifting her weight back and forth from foot to foot before finally dashing through the snow to the paved walkway, with Fiona following close behind her.
"We must do something," Miss Glascon said calmly, as she realized the seriousness of the situation. "And I fear you were right not to involve the policeman..."
Fiona brushed the snow from her knee sock and tried to think. Miss Glascon�s nyloned feet left tiny prints on the sidewalk behind her as she paced back and forth. The stockings had reinforced toes and heels, but her toes were clearly visible through the wet nylon material, and Fiona could see that they were perfectly aligned and polished ruby red to match her fingernail polish. Her feet were small, with very high arches that led gracefully to her shapely ankles and legs. Without her coat now, she was left with a slate grey matching skirt and jacket with a light grey silk blouse that ended in a high ruffled collar. Her arms were crossed in front of her, as the breeze whipped her auburn hair around her head like a flame.
Fiona thought that her own stockinged foot looked gigantic by comparison, and her white cable knee socks had none of the movie star allure of Miss Glascon�s expensive and stylish hosiery. As for the rest of her outfit, Fiona wore only one shoe, her socks, a scarf, and her underwear beneath her overcoat.
"We have to get a look at that book," Miss Glascon said without emotion. "Since I am unable to see well without my glasses, you must help me to locate the keys to the building, as well as my glasses if at all possible. Obviously, we must make haste, lest the situation deteriorate any further," her voice trailed off.
Fiona had noticed that Miss Glascon�s skirt was beginning to ravel at the hem, and she quickly turned away in embarrassment and stepped into the snow again to begin the search for the keys. "Could you tell the area where you lost them?" she asked, looking over her shoulder to see Miss Glascon�s panties and garter belt coming into full view under the hem of her jacket.
"I was on the sidewalk when the purse gave way, so they couldn't be far from where you're standing," Miss Glascon said, pulling her jacket down over her cream white thighs. "Please, do hurry."
Fiona had to admire Miss Glascon�s quiet strength as she watched her calmly wade into the snow bank in her stockinged feet to join the search. Without her glasses, she had little chance of finding anything, but she strode into the snow in her stockinged feet, rather than stay on the sidelines. Her thighs were nearly as white as the snow above the jet-black stockings, and she had given up on trying to cover them with her coat tails.
Fiona searched feverishly, determined to spare Miss Glascon any further humiliation if at all possible. She kept her eyes on the snow covered lawn, but after several minutes of searching, she heard Miss Glascon�s voice, still calm, but with a greater urgency.
"Do you see anything encouraging?� Miss Glascon asked.
Fiona looked up to see Miss Glascon standing knee deep in the snow, with her hands in front of her. She was trying in vain to hold her lovely silk blouse together, but she was left with hands full of fine thread as her blazer whipped open in the wind, revealing her black panties and matching bra covering a well-endowed breast.
Fiona's overcoat had begun to open up under one arm just as she located Miss Glascon�s wallet, and she knew the keys must be nearby. A chain caught around her ankle, and when she got her hands on it, she found that Miss Glascon�s glasses were attached to it.
"I found your wallet and your eyeglasses," she said but she could see that the glasses were missing both lenses. She wanted to offer some ray of hope to the woman.
"There is a lot of stuff in this general area, I'm sure the keys must be right here," Fiona said trying to sound hopeful. A handful of black fabric tumbled across the snow, and Fiona looked in the direction from which it came. Miss Glascon�s situation had worsened and unmistakable shocked of auburn red flashed beneath her jacket as the wind blew her coat tails open. Her stockings sagged at the top where the garters should have been, and she was retreating toward the sidewalk. Miss Glascon stepped over to an evergreen tree and peered out from behind it, but her demeanor was still one of controlled confidence.
"That�s quite encouraging Fiona. Surely the keys must be close by," Miss Glascon said.
The last few remnants of Fiona's overcoat clung to her hair as she knelt in the snow, digging furiously, and wearing only one shoe, her socks, a scarf, and her underwear. Her bra and panties were white nylon that shone like a beacon in the night and would certainly attract attention should anyone happen by. She pulled the scarf down around her waist and wondered if her other shoe would fall apart anytime soon. And what if her underwear gave out; should she run, or hide, go for help? But where? There had been the occasional passing car...she shuddered to imagine herself flagging down a passing car in her birthday suit. An hour ago, she had nearly fainted when Dr. McCullough had merely seen her stockinged foot.
And then she saw it. A tiny lash of silver in the snow. Fiona dropped to her knees and sifted through the snow pulling out a large ring of keys. "I found them!" she exclaimed, and ran toward Miss Glascon. "I found them!" she said again, and stopped dead in her tracks as Miss Glascon stepped from behind the tree, completely naked but for the two stockings she held up with her fingertips on her thighs. Fiona pulled the scarf from her waist and wrapped it around Miss Glascon�s naked body.
"Excellent," Miss Glascon said evenly. "Let's get inside now, shall we?"
"Miss Glascon?" Fiona asked gently. The scarf was melting into the wind and within seconds had disappeared altogether.
"Maureen. Please call me Maureen. Now that you've seen me completely nude on the front lawn of the University Library, I should think we could dispense with a few of the formalities." She held her arms outstretched wide and laughed heartily. Fiona felt herself blushing wildly, but the laughter was contagious.
"Maureen," she said tentatively, "where should we go? The shortest way is across the lawn, but we�re nearly naked, I mean we have one shoe between us." They laughed some more. "We could go through the Biology Building, it's warmer, but a much longer trip. We have to consider that someone might see us, and this would be very difficult to explain."
"I vote for warmer," Maureen said, hugging herself with both arms over her naked breasts.
"Fiona dashed across the lawn to the closest door, and Maureen followed, but she fell face down in a snow bank along the way. After franticly trying several keys, Fiona managed to open the door and they both felt an unexpected and delightful rush of warm air from the boiler room engulf them.
A quick search of the room turned up nothing that remotely resembled clothing, but at least they were warm for the moment. Maureen glistened from head to toe from the melting snow as she pulled a wooden bench up near the boiler. They sat silently, side by side, warming their feet by the fire hatch.
Fiona kicked off her remaining shoe and pulled her socks up to her knees.
"How on earth did this ever happen to us?" Maureen asked, breaking the silence at last.
Fiona watched Maureen's tiny stockinged feet flexing in front of the gas flames as she rolled the stockings down and slowly removed them. Her legs and bare feet were cream white, and her toes were polished ruby red. Fiona would have liked to take off her own socks, but she had never been comfortable going barefoot around other people.
Fiona thought about the question. "It has something to do with the book, but I'm not sure exactly how it works."
Maureen got up and stood with her back to the fire, causing Fiona to quickly avert her eyes from Maureen's naked form, staring at the floor in front of her instead. Noticing Maureen's bare feet again, it struck Fiona as odd that she was too self conscious to remove her wet socks, but Maureen was stark naked, and walking around calmly as if she lived here.
"I think it's what you said in the library. The incantation causes the destruction of garment, armor, whatever," Fiona said.
"Well apparently synthetic materials are not affected," Maureen said. "My stockings, your undies." She turned away suddenly and added, "I certainly do wish that I had not worn cotton underwear today." Maureen tried tying the stockings around her waist and her chest in various configurations, but nothing really worked. After a while, she just sat on the bench next to Fiona and slipped them on her bare feet again, rolling them up to mid-thigh. Fiona wondered why she put them on at all. Did she feel less naked wearing stockings, and nothing else? Fiona was glad for the few garments she had, and she was certain that she would not have handled the situation as well as Maureen if the circumstances had been reversed.
After warming up a bit, Fiona had an idea. "We could make our way up to the third floor laboratories and borrow some lab coats."
Maureen opened the door to the hallway a crack and both women listened intently for a long while before moving. Maureen led the way down a wide hallway, walking purposefully, and stopping only once to pull up her stockings. Fiona padded along silently behind her, holding her remaining shoe in her hand. Every sound caused Fiona to fall into near panic, and she was continually amazed the Maureen could stride ahead so confidently, stark naked through a University building. Finally, they reached the stairwell, and headed up to the third floor labs. Fiona was sure she heard someone following behind, but there was nowhere to retreat to now.
Maureen opened the third floor door a crack, and they both peered through the opening. Any thoughts they had of covert entry quickly evaporated, as they saw the lab was a hub of activity. Fiona saw a barefoot woman enter the hallway wearing a long T-shirt, and apparently nothing else before they closed the door and waited in the stairwell.
"I think there is some kind of sleep research clinic going on," said Maureen. "They might be using the labs all night."
For the first time since their ordeal had begun, Fiona thought that Maureen was ready to give up. She just sat in the corner of the stairwell hugging her knees to her chest, her tiny stockinged toes barely touching the floor, her faced buried against her arms.
"What are we going to do? Maureen said, her voice soft and muffled.
"WE are not going to do anything," Fiona said, as she set down her shoe and opened the door. She padded down the hallway in her underwear, nodding to several people she passed along the way, and walked straight into the biology lab to find a small group of under grads wearing lab gear and blank stares.
"My friend and I forgot to bring our pajamas." She said. "May I please borrow a couple of lab coats?" Fiona didn't wait for a response before grabbing a white, knee length coat and slipping it on. She grabbed a smaller one, and walked out the way she had come in. "Thanks, fellas," she added, waving over her shoulder.
The door was already half open as she returned to the stairwell, Maureen's head, and naked shoulder peeked around the corner.
"You were fabulous!" Maureen said, as she quickly slid her arms into the coat.
Walking through the building, they met a surprising number of people. The University was indeed running a large sleep study program, and people paid little attention to the women in Lab coats walking through, although their lack of footwear was somewhat unusual. They were both just relieved that the whole episode was over.
"So you think the meaning of Morinthis oplae nolokis is actually�" Maureen began, but stopped when she saw the look of panic on Fiona's face. She smiled and rubbed her had on the lab coat. "100% rayon, I already checked." They laughed and continued to talk until they reached the exit doors.
"A short dash across the street and we're home free," Maureen said. It was a good four hundred yards, but after what they had been through tonight, it seemed simple enough. "I think I even have a pair of sweats you can wear home tonight."
Fiona dropped her remaining shoe on the floor and slipped her foot into it. The shoe felt very loose, and some of the stitching was coming loose. After examining it, she put it on again and searched the street nervously through the window. "I wish you hadn't repeated those incantations again."
Fiona and Maureen walked out the front entrance and headed down the steps toward the street. The loose fitting lab coats were little protection against the cold, and they moved as quickly as they could with three missing shoes. They were at the halfway point, about to cross the street, when a police car pulled up in front of them, blocking their way.
The policeman they had seen earlier rolled down the window. "Evening ladies. Shouldn't you be wearing shoes in this kind of weather?"
"We're making extra money doing an experiment for the biology department," Maureen said smoothly. Fiona suddenly felt light headed as her shoe came apart and she kicked the remains underneath the police car.
"We've had a report of several women cavorting around half naked tonight," the policeman said in an accusing tone. "Would either of you ladies know anything about that?"
"Sounds like those sleep deprivation experiments on the third floor. After a few days without sleep, many abnormal behaviors are to be expected. If I were you, I would keep an eye on the other end of the building," Maureen said, pointing in the direction they had come from. As she leaned on the car door, the back of her lab coat had already disintegrated up to her waist, and an uncomfortable draft was getting worse.
Fiona stared over the top of the police car in shock as her panties fell from her thighs and landed in the street. The policeman was about to ask her a question when she felt her bra strap came undone. The urge to flee was unbearable.
"Hey!" Maureen's voice was so loud it startled Fiona. "Isn't that one of those cheeky buggers now?" The policeman looked confused. "He just walked across the street naked, big as life!"
The police car made a quick U-turn and headed down the block just as Fiona's lab coat fell away, leaving her completely naked except for her knee socks, one of which had just peeled open at the toe.
"So much for your theory about Synthetics!"
Fiona and Maureen bolted for the Library doors, their naked bodies exposed to the world. Although it seemed like an eternity, they were actually safely inside in less than two minutes.
Maureen locked the doors behind them, and they entered the main hall. Maureen had lost all of her clothing, and Fiona wore a single knee sock, and nothing more.
Fiona was breathing hard and could hardly speak. "You have to find us something to wear," she gasped, holding one arm across her chest and her other hand between her legs.
Maureen found some sweat pants and a sweatshirt, that were too small for Fiona, but she managed to fit them on. Her shoes were also too small for Fiona, and she slipped into an overcoat herself.
Fiona had barely put the pants on when they began to unravel, and she began to cry. Maureen embraced her as their newfound clothes fell to pieces on the floor.
"We have to see the book," Maureen said firmly. "We can't go the rest of our lives without our clothes now, can we?"
Fiona gathered herself together and the two naked women made their way through the darkened building to the room where they had left the book. Fiona knew that it was all the more ridiculous to persist in wearing her one remaining knee sock, but they navigated their way through the building in silence, except for the sound of three bare feet walking on the polished tile.
As they entered the room where they had left the book, the lights switched on unexpectedly, and the shock hit Fiona like a physical blow.
"I've been expecting you Fiona."
Both women stood naked in the doorway, hands at their sides, too stunned to move or speak.
Maureen pulled her hands in front of her, leaving her chest exposed, and only partially concealing the auburn patch below her waist. "I-I-I..." she stammered.
"Please sit down Miss Glascon."
Fiona sat next to Maureen on a cold wooden chair, and gathered her courage. "It's wasn't her fault..."
"I know that Fiona. I'm here to help." Dr. McCullough did not seemed affected by their nudity in the least. "A similar incident connected to this very book occurred here around the start of the eighteenth century, but on a larger scale."
"After that, the University had this text safely under lock and key, but it was misplaced for over one hundred years, until you found it for us. Unfortunately, you were able to decipher some of the text without truly understanding the meaning of those words. The origins of the incantations are in weaponry, intended to deprive an enemy of armor and protection from the elements. In short, each time you repeated the words, another garment was destroyed. When I saw you on the street missing a shoe, it caught my attention, so I took the opportunity to glance at your notes when I picked them up and handed them back to you. A bit later, I walked by again and saw your shredded shoe left there on the sidewalk.�
Dr. McCullough opened the book and read a lengthy passage aloud. At the conclusion, he arose and hoisted the book. Both women stood up, momentarily unconcerned about their nakedness.
"Provided you do not repeat the incantation, your clothes will no longer fall off of your bodies, and you will no longer find yourselves unexpectedly naked in public places." Dr. McCullough said solemnly
Maureen and Fiona beamed at each other.
"Of course, this won't take effect until the next full moon, seventeen days from now,� he added.
Fiona looked stricken, and Maureen stared blankly into space as her shoulders slumped and she fell back into the chair. How would they get home? She would have to live in the nude for two weeks? She hadn't seen anything in the book about a full moon.
Dr. McCullough winked at Fiona, and smiled at her until she started to laugh. "A little Warlock humor," he said, and left the room.
At 2:15 a.m., the taxi arrived in front of the Library. Maureen and Fiona scampered down the icy sidewalk wearing large sweaters they had taken from the Library lost and found. Both were barefoot, in fact, neither had any clothes except for their sweaters, but they were not at all concerned with appearances.
As the taxi passed the Biology building, they saw that half dozen police cars lined the street.
�I wonder what�s going on in there now?� Fiona said.
Maureen just smiled. "You know, when you were getting those lab coats for us��
�I can�t believe it! I just walked in there in my underwear!� Fiona threw her head back and laughed.
Maureen continued, �I felt like I was just trapped there, all alone, stranded naked in the stairwell of a University building. I just tried to think, really focus, and I tried as hard as I could to understand that damned incantation," she said. The taxi passed Dr. McCullough, who was standing on the sidewalk now, talking to a co-ed who was barefoot and dressed about like they were. "I must have repeated it fifty times or more just trying to figure it out."
-Snowman
