“All right, I have *two* four-handed librarians sitting at *my* Table now. Surely we can figure this out together.” No one around The Table says a thing. Curled Paper keeps staring inside the book he’s always reading. Tin S. Man stands unmoving in the corner. “Hazel… Hazelhurst. A Mrs. Hazelhurst came out of Philip Strevor’s office over in Iris just before I went in. But I didn’t see her. This *must* be Mid-Hazel.” No one says anything. “Mid-Hazel makes things go ’round and ’round, entrapping them in a bewitching circle. New Island is her ultimate creation, perhaps.” Nothing said. “Leeman’s or Leemon’s — mind you, we can only speak in Oracle terms here — anyway, Leeman’s or Leemon’s Hazel is the beginning and ending point for his fictional story nested inside the now totally and completely filled out factual story.” She indicates the screen displaying a map from the book. “He inserts *himself* inside the story, and first goes from Hazel to the Hazelhurst (Ruins) to complete his first, er, virtual watercolor… within the story. This becomes first person, not third. With advantages and disadvantages–” Bill/Wheeler throws down her hands on the table. “Okay, *someone* has to help me here. Librarian 01, I order you to speak.”
Librarian 01 thinks a spell, then offers: “eight.” He elaborates after a shorter pause. “It must have been something he ate.”
“Carrot,” speaks up Librarian 02. “Glasses.” Everyone falls silent here.