To that, Iris let out a laugh.
“Wow, that’s practically witchcraft,” Selene said.
“What is?”
“That laugh. I mean, your voice in general is hypnotizing, but that laugh is something else entirely. I half expectfor the whole male population to come charging in here. And a quarter of the women.”
Iris’s gaze shot to the door, concerned. But no one even glanced inside.
“You said you’ve met other mermaids?” Iris asked.
“A handful, yes.”
“I thought we didn’t live in the city.”
“Live? No. Visit? Occasionally. Though, most of you come in with hats and sunglasses, trying to lay low. Especially Caprica.”
“Caprica,” Iris repeated, the name ringing a bell.
“Caprica Coraline. The author.”
“Wait, what? Caprica Coraline is a mermaid?” Iris asked, thinking of the stories in the royal library she’d read. They were some of her favorites. But it seemed like she’d stopped writing just before Iris was born.
“Of course she’s a mermaid. Don’t you have her books in your library?”
“Well, the ten of them in print.”
“Ten,” Selene snorted. “She’s written seventy-five books. And counting.”
“Seventy-five? Why haven’t I come across more?”
“Because Caprica came to the surface, what, twenty years ago. To stay for good. And she’s been writing ever since. I guess the books just never got, what, shell-bound and printed on … kelp?”
“Yes, exactly. Though, apparently, magic can be used to send books below. Finn did so for me.”
“Did he now? That’s surprisingly thoughtful for a robot.”
“I guess he didn’t get it done here.”
“I mean, I could do it. But this isn’t a spell shop. I sell books.”
“Why?”
“Why doyouread books when your people are usually socializing or having lots of confusing mermaid sex?”
“Fair enough,” Iris agreed.
“My mother was one of those all-spells-all-the-time kind of witches. When I was old enough to go my own way, I decided to lean away from magic. Well, aside from the wards. And the spells to keep my coffee warm. And flip my book pages when I’m too lazy to do it myself.”
“Priorities,” Iris said.
“Exactly. So, if you’re looking for Caprica, she has her own section,” Selene said, moving out from behind the desk.
She didn’t know why she looked, but Iris glanced down to see a book sitting open and pages down on the counter. The cover was an illustrated couple standing back-to-back, arms crossed, in what had to be a clear hate-to-love rom-com.
Catching her looking, Selene’s eyes widened.
“It’s for, ah, research,” she insisted. At Iris’s scrunched brows, she rushed on, “About emotional manipulation and unrealistic expectations.”
