She also had the family gift of being in the right place at the right time. Which was why I wasn’t at all surprised that the moment I drove up and parked the Jeep on one side of the mossy stones that acted as a gateway to the pump house/library, Myra opened a door.
Even in the rain, even in the ever-dimming light, it was magical to see an entire building manifest around her as she stepped out onto the covered front step. The library looked like several fairytale wooden cabins stuck together, all peaked roofs and multi-pane windows.
The light behind her was bright and welcoming. I ducked out of the Jeep and sprinted to the overhang of the step.
“Hey,” I said, dripping and cold, the wind shoving me sideways. “Can I come in?”
Myra was off duty today and was wearing a red sweater and black polka-dot leggings. Her rockabilly hair was pulled back with a simple black bow headband. Her eyeliner was winged away from her light blue eyes, making them even wider.
The library didn’t allow anyone over the threshold unless Myra permitted it. To date, she’d only allowed me, Jean, and for some reason beyond me, Than, into this treasure trove of information. She hadn’t even allowed Bathin in, and he was the demon she was dating.
“Yes, you are welcome here tonight. Get in.” She tugged on my shoulder.
I yelped as I basically tripped over the threshold. She shut the door behind me.
The main room was wall-to-wall bookshelves, crowded from floor to ceiling with every kind and style of book imaginable. A flicker of spirits and sparkles of magic floated and peeked between bindings, shimmering in the ragged shadows of spines.
Several ghost-like spirits of the library’s volumes were hanging out here, as they usually did. A young boy lay sprawled on the floor, his head resting on a big, ghostly wolf behind him. Two regally dressed men sipped tea in the corner, leaning close to each other with secret smiles. A woman with a battle axe across her shoulder was throwing dice with an elfin creature and a cat in a top hat. Near the stairwell, a lizard made of blue fire ate berries out of a selkie’s fingers.
All of them ghostly. All of them spirits of the books held safe in this space.
I heard several disembodied voices murmur, “Welcome,”
“Delaney,”
“Bridge,”
“Eldest,”as the magic of the books recognized me.
“Delaney Reed,” a strong male voice said. “How good to see you.”
I looked toward the kitchen area.
Harold stood there, smiling. He was much more solid than any of the other book spirits and looked like Cary Grant, suit and all. He used to be an index in the Library of Alexandria. As luck had it, he’d been thrown away, rescued from the fire, and was now caregiver to both the Reed magic library and the magical Reed responsible for it.
“Hi, Harold,” I said.
“Would you care for coffee and cookies?”
It felt like I’d been eating and drinking non-stop, but it was still cold and wet out. Coffee equals good. “Yes, please.”
“Excellent. And you, Myra? Tea?”
“I’ll have coffee too.”
His eyebrows went up and so did mine. Myra was a tea lover through and through.
“He made chocolate, chocolate-chunk, extra-fudge cookies,” she explained. “Coffee’s gonna go great with that.”
“Will you be in the sitting room?” he asked.
Myra smiled at him. “Upstairs, yes. Thank you.”
“Carry on. I’ll be up in a moment.”
I pulled off my coat and hung it to drip on the coat rack behind the door. My phone in the coat pocket vibrated, so I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
Ryder.
