It was always in threes.

Jenkins mused on the number of magic as he sat in the finally peaceful quiet of his Annex, reaching up with one hand to stroke Menerva's dappled white feathers, so soft they nearly swallowed him.

The backlash of magic was always three times more powerful than the spell cast, covens of magic-users always came in threes, it was always the number three. Morgan never hesitated to take advantage of the rule of three, turning user against user like at the science fair, skimming off the magical blowback to keep herself and her damned Mordred looking young and spry.

Even in non-magical means, three was a number of power. The Hindu Trimurti in which the cosmic functions of creation, maintenance, and destruction are personified; the Roman triumvirate of Caesar, Crassus, and Pompey; the Christian apostles Peter, John, and James, the list went on.

And now, apparently, the Library had chosen to create a new rule of three: three hapless new Librarians to invade his Annex and disturb their peace and quiet. As if Mr. Carsen on his own wasn't bad enough, no, now Jenkins had to deal with a trio of them. Joy.

The air shivered slightly around him, and Menerva's keen ears picked up the faint echoes of laughter coming through the ceiling and walls. "I'm glad you find it so amusing," she muttered.

He stood up and walked through the quiet halls of the Library, his footsteps echoing softly between the stacks, until he came to the theatre. Jenkins eased the door open and looked inside, the lights coming on by themselves, but only very dimly.

Apparently Mr. Jones had at last convinced his companions into participating in 'movie night' as the Librarians were all quite soundly asleep in front of the flickering screen. Mr. Stone had fallen asleep upright, leaned halfway over onto the arm of the sofa; Ms. Cillian's head rested on his other shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist and her feet in Mr. Jones's lap, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa.

Curled on the floor in front of the sofa, their respective dæmons had arranged themselves in a comfortable knot of fur, with Zhu's bright autumn coat contrasting sharply with the dappled silvery-greys of Adrasteia and Asten, also answering the question as to whether or not dæmons could snore.

"They do have their own apartments, don't they?" Menerva grumbled.

"Indeed," Jenkins agreed. He turned off the screen, then rescued the half-eaten bowl of popcorn that Mr. Jones had monopolized before it could tip onto the floor, a mess he would not be cleaning up.

A blanket and pillows had appeared on a currently empty shelf. Jenkins rolled his eyes and looked to the ceiling. "I am the Caretaker, not a babysitter," he reminded the Library for what felt like the umpteenth time. Nevertheless, he covered Ms. Cillian with the blanket and gave a pillow to both Mr. Stone and Mr. Jones, otherwise they would end up with a serious sore neck from sleeping at that angle.

Smoothing out his tie, Jenkins cast one final look over the three and gave a reluctant sigh of acquiescence. "Yes, yes, alright, you win," he muttered as he slipped quietly out of the room and shut the door behind him; the soft laughter of the Library followed him all the way back to his lab.

If bad things came in threes, there was no reason that good things couldn't come in threes as well.

Jake Stone – Adrasteia, called "Addy," Siberian lynx
Cassandra Cillian – Asten, common genet
Ezekiel Jones – Zhu, red fox
Col. Eve Baird – Karys, Siberian husky/grey wolf mix
Jenkins/Galahad – Menerva, snowy owl