I climbed to my feet and looked around the cavernous room. It certainly wasn’t the Book Haven, or maybe it was and the other place was just a pale imitation of this.
The ceiling towered several stories above me, so high that its depths were shrouded in shadow. Every wall was lined with row after row of book cases. So many and so high that there were ladders climbing the walls.
Unlike the normal store where the book shelves were fairly worn, thin scraps of wood only one step up from plywood, these shelves had the deep red gleam of high quality oak that had been cared for by overworked apprentices who’d no doubt spent most of their lives shining it until you could see your reflection in the wood’s depths.
It wasn’t my first time visiting this place, but I’d never been in this room.
Normally someone like me, someone low on the totem pole wouldn’t have even known this place existed, but Hermes, the courier service I worked for, had sent me on several deliveries for the hidden bookstore.
The entrance to this place changed constantly. As far as I could tell this place existed in some kind of pocket realm. That’s why I needed the map. It was the only way I could find a way inside.
The only thing I hadn’t been sure of was the code phrase. It seemed to change every time I came here. My last delivery to the caretaker was four days ago so I figured it would be good still. And I was right.
My footsteps were muted as I moved into the depths of the bookstore. It was like walking through a tomb and reminded me of some of the battlefields I’d visited with my parents as a child. It had that same quiet that seemed to shout without ever making a sound. The kind that said you were risking life and limb bringing the noise of the living into a place where only the dead should walk.
I rubbed my arms, suddenly freezing. This place hadn’t had this kind of unsettling feeling the last time I was here, or any of the times before that. It was like it knew I wasn’t supposed to be here. I pushed forward, telling myself that I was letting my imagination run away with me.
The only thing this place seemed to have in common with the human side was the maze like labyrinth that its rooms formed. The passageways twisted and turned, narrowing unexpectedly before opening up into great rooms full of books and other items.
I paused by a table with a gold shield displayed on it. There was a great oak tree embossed on the metal, the fine detailing catching and sending the light rippling along the branches.
I drew closer, wondering what type of tools the maker used to give it such a lifelike look. I reached out to touch, almost anticipating the feel of live wood under my fingers.
“I wouldn’t,” a voice said next to my ear.
I jumped and snatched my hand back, straightening from where I’d bent closer to examine the shield. I hadn’t realized I’d crossed an entire room to examine it until now.
“That thing has a habit of bespelling people. It’s quite dangerous. If it likes you, it’ll draw you into its internal world. If it doesn’t, you’ll just stand there and starve yourself to death. End result is the same either way. You die.”
A man with curly brown hair and skin the color of walnut gave me a friendly smile as if he told people about the dangers of the homicidal shield all the time.
I stepped back from the item in question, not wanting to test my luck.
The man watched me with a bland gaze. Friendly, but not too friendly, as if he had all the time in the world to wait for me to do whatever it was I was going to do.
“Do you work here?” I asked. “I’ve never seen you before.”
“Nor I you.”
There was an awkward pause. Awkward on my side at least. The silence didn’t seem to bother him in the least. It was like being watched by a cat, one that was utterly disinterested in your future or past because your actions had no bearing on its feline superiority.
“Um, I’m looking for something. Perhaps you could help me.”
The man waited.
This guy was definitely a little weird, but then I was in a supernatural library with a moving entrance. I couldn’t really expect anything less.
“I’m looking for a book.”
The man smiled, his light brown eyes warming with laughter. “Well, we are in a bookstore.”
Ah. That’s right. Stupid statement.
Looked like the guy had a sense of humor. It was a relief actually. Made him seem slightly more human, which when standing in a supernatural bookstore next to a shield that ate people was surprisingly reassuring.
I gave him a strained smile. “I’m not really sure what I’m looking for. I mean I don’t have a name or anything to give you.”
This was a lot harder than I thought. For some reason, I thought I could just waltz in, find what I was looking for and then waltz out. No interaction with other people necessary and no one would be the wiser about my visit.
