“This wing holds my collection on all fae who aren’t dragons.” He gestures toward the arched doorway to the right, the one we didn’t get to yesterday. “It contains the books about humans as well.”
Excitement skitters through me. My brief glimpse of thedragon wing the other day was fascinating, but I can’t wait to see what he has on witchcraft!
I follow him through the archway, and my heart skips as I take in bookcase after bookcase, each filled to overflowing. The end of the hallway grows hazy with distance, and the stacks tower high overhead. More hallways open off each side, all equally full of packed shelves.
Luke spins to look at me, one eyebrow arched. “You’ll have to actually read the books if you expect to find something, not just stare at them, mouth agape.”
“Your library is amazing!” I don’t try to hide the awe in my voice.
The left corner of his mouth twitches in a miniscule half-smile. It’s a tiny movement, but it’s so genuine I treasure it.
“Come. The collection dedicated to human witches is this way.” He strides down the hallway.
I follow but fall behind, my eyes drawn to the spines of the books we pass. Most of them are covered in symbols. I’m not great with foreign languages, but I know enough to tell that these aren’t Earth languages.
“I, uh… I’m not sure I can help you after all,” I say, disappointment weighing my stomach. I got so used to all of the fae in Ferndale Falls speaking English that I forgot it’s not their native language. “I can’t read any of these.”
“It won’t be an issue.” He turns down one of the aisles. “Here we are. The witch collection, or as much of it as I’ve been able to gather together in my recent studies. There’s still much scattered throughout the library.”
I spin in place, taking in the innumerable amount ofbooks. There are a few English titles mixed into all the ones I can’t read, the familiar words catching my eye:Frances Thornblossom’s Guide to the Weirde and Wonderfulle,The Hisslepenny Compendium of Spells, andCharms and Simples for a Hedgewitch Lyfe. It’s fascinating to see older books from before English spelling was codified into the system we know today, but something’s bugging me. Why are the English books scattered across several bookcases instead of together?
“I don’t get it,” I say. “Your library ismassive. Way too large to have been built with no purpose. Why don’t you already have a system in place for cataloging the books?”
“You’re correct. There used to be such a system.” His fingers run across one of the wooden shelves, concern flashing through his eyes. “My ancestors originally built this library and imbued it with several cataloging spells. I recall standing in the reading room and asking for all the information on any given topic, and books and scrolls would come flying from all over the stacks.”
“That sounds amazing!” Such a spell is every librarian’s dream. “What happened?”
“When the doors of Faerie closed, the Moon Goddess transported my entire family to a hidden realm to protect us from the Dark God, but that meant leaving the library behind. Abandoned for three hundred years, the magical structure used every last bit of its power to preserve its precious contents, eating away at all of its spells.” Pain tinges his voice, his expression haunted by a deep sadness as he touches the spines of several books. “When the doors of Faerie reopened several months ago, I found the library depleted and on the edge of collapse. It’s recovering, but theoriginal cataloging spells have been lost forever.”
“I’m so sorry.” My heart twinges for him. Underneath all the grumpy, it’s clear Luke feels things very deeply, and the hurt to his library is one I can fully understand.
A pulse of power rolls outward from him, and I can feel the books surrounding us absorb it eagerly. “It will be made whole again. I refuse to accept anything less.” Steel backs his voice, making it clear no other option is acceptable. “It does little good to have one of the finest libraries in all the realms if you cannot find anything. That’s where you come in.”
“I’m happy to help in any way I can.” I spread my hands wide. “But it’s going to be difficult if I can’t read anything.”
“As to that.” He reaches into his invisible pocket and pulls out a purple crystal. He flicks it with a black claw, setting it ringing with a high, sweet sound. “This is a translation crystal. Keep it on your person, and you’ll be able to read any language.”
“Yes, please!” I make grabby hands and snatch it from him. Spinning toward the closest shelves, I let my eyes rove. Several titles catch my eye:Human Witchcraft, a History,Hexes of Upper East Anglia, andUnpredictable Powers: Why Witches Must Be Monitored.
“Got that one right,” I mutter. My power is the definition of “unpredictable.”
I grab several books off the shelf and sink onto the floor, sitting cross-legged with the first book spread open across my lap. After pulling out my little pack of cinnamon heart candies, I pop one into my mouth, the sweet spicy flavor both invigorating and familiar.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Luke soundsscandalized.
“Want one?” I rattle the bag. “They help me think.”
He takes the candies, holding them up to inspect them, his gaze all glower and grump. Luke sniffs the packet, and his expression clears. “This is what you smell like.”
He knows what I smell like? Pleasure flushes my body with warmth, sparklers lighting in my chest.
He shakes several candies onto his palm and tosses them into his mouth with a pleased grunt. After crunching through them, he turns his sharp golden gaze on me. “Back to what I was saying. What are you doing on the floor?”
“I’m being efficient. It’ll take forever to walk back and forth to the reading room every time we need more books.”
“You’re correct. But why would you ever assume the floor is an acceptable answer? Dragons are superior beings. We do not sit on the floor.” He lifts his hands. A wave of power rolls from him, pulsing outward, tingling across my skin and tickling the inside of my chest.
In a flash, he scoops my stack of books from the floor and holds out a hand to pull me to my feet in a move that reminds me of the kinds of manners you see in Jane Austin movies.
