He wrapped me in another tight hug before handing the box back to me. “Be careful, Fay. Knowledge can be freeing, but it’s also a chain. Once you know something, you’re honor bound to do something about it. It’s simply who you are.”
I sighed as I opened the shop door. “And who do you think raised me to be that way?”
Holt ran a hand through his close-cropped curls, recently peppered with white, before waving one of his big hands at me. “Get out of here, before I prick you with that cactus in your box.”
I laughed before stepping onto the small porch outside. “I love you too, Holt!” I called with a wave.
The door slammed behind me, and I breathed in the early spring air. For it getting so hot so quick this year, the air still smelled sweet like spring and hope.
Or maybe that’s what you want it to smell like.
The Mage and his Vessel were still stationed outside the store when I left, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and shoot a verbal barb his way.
“Do you have nothing better to do with your day? Rebels aren’t going to just come up to the storefront in plain daylight, dickhead. Go glower at someone else with your salary paid by our tax dollars.” I threw my hand up in indignation as I turned around and strode across the street. Before I turned, though, I swore I saw the corner of his lips tip up.
I walked quickly, barely greeting familiar faces as I passed. I had a mission now, and once I aligned myself to an outcome, I rarely strayed from that path. Especially when knowledge was involved. And especially when that knowledge could have the potential to impact someone I cared about.
Chapter 29
Faylinn
The Librarian, as everyone in town called him, wasn’t from here originally, that much was certain. With his extremely pale complexion, ice-white hair, and eyes that matched both, he was a stark contrast to the people from the Southern Territories. Though I supposed that’s why he settled in a border territory, since we were a motley bunch—some of us looked like Southerners, some like Northerners, and every mix in between. He wasn’t an actual Librarian, but that was what we all called him since he knew so much about, well, everything.
Come to think of it, I didn’t think I even knew his real name.
He was simply the Librarian.
The Librarian owned a little shop called The Curious, and he sold all sorts of peculiar items—from books about far off places, to jars full of fingers or eyes, to a deck of cards that seemed to both eat the light and glow with it. If you needed something odd, you went to The Curious. People from surrounding villages, even some farther to the north, knew of his little shop.
It was the primary attraction in Isrun.
My feet easily followed the path I had taken so many times before, and within minutes I stood outside The Curious. It was near the end of the street, sandwiched between the only tailor in town and the only tavern, aptly named The Corner. Where The Corner was loud and boisterous at alltimes, The Curious was quiet. I opened the door and was instantly smothered by the unrelenting smell of sage, jasmine, and old parchment. The Librarian had apparently been burning sage recently and tried to cover it up with jasmine spray. The smell wasn’t the only thing that hit me immediately, as all sound seemed to be sucked away once I entered. It was quiet, almost eerily so, and I couldn’t even hear the sounds of The Corner next door while inside.
Contrary to the outside of the shop, everything in here was white—the walls, the floors, the shelves. The only contrast in color was present in the objects scattered about the room haphazardly. All of it, and none of it, junk.
“Hello?” I called tentatively. “It’s Faylinn, I’m here for another book? Holt said you got some new ones in.” I set my box down on the floor and waited for the Librarian to find me. He always did and I could never tell how he snuck up on me so easily.
“Faylinn,” his voice was a purr in my ear. I jumped three feet in the air and screamed a bit. He only stared at me in response. The Librarian was one of the tallest men I had ever met, towering over even Holt and Ben, but was extremely willowy. He wore a dress-like garment that hung down his arms and to the floor, belted by some sort of contraption that had multiple pockets. It looked extremely useful, and I made a mental note to make myself one soon—the belt, not the dress.
“I have a book for you,” he said as he glided away from me toward the back of the shop. “Come.”
I shook my head to clear it of the odd greeting and the smell of jasmine and sage before following him into the shop. That was the other thing about the Librarian. You didn’t tell him what you needed; he toldyouwhat you needed.
Like I said, odd.
We made no small talk as I followed him through winding shelves stacked with oddities, simultaneously confused and in awe of how much this shop could hold. I always tried to figure out how he made it seem so big but could never come up with the answer. It was slightly maddening.
“Here.” He stopped abruptly and held a book out to me. It was old and worn, the cover falling off and the corners bent and torn.
“What happened? Did it lose a fight with a bear?” The book was crumbling in my hands, and I didn’t know if it would survive the walk home.
“And this one,” he said, completely ignoring my comment about the bear fight and placing a second book on top of the first. It was small and thin, more like the size of a pocketbook than anything. “That is it for today,” he said and started to walk back to the front of the store.
Something caught my eye though, and I itched to reach out and touch it. It was a book, of course, but it was beautiful. Gilded edges and set with gems. It was gaudy, but something from that book spoke to me. “What about that one?” I called, pointing at the book.
“Not yet,” he said from right next to me.
“Gods! Warn a girl, would you?” I jumped back, almost dropping my books in the process and had to scramble to keep them from hitting the floor. The bear-fight book lost a few more pieces of its cover before I got everything under control.
