My breath caught.
It looked like a tiny dragon.
Almost what I imagined the Beithir would look like, if it ever fully left the water.
“What the?—”
“About time,”a voice said. It had a smoky undertone, as though its words were lightly singed, and I blinked.I heard his voice in my head. It was dry, slightly irritated, and distinctly male.“It’s taken you a while, hasn’t it then?”
I stared at the creature. The creature stared back.
“Did I just hear you? In my head?”
“Obviously.”The little serpentine dragon slithered fully out from the shelf and curled on top of a stack of documents, tucking his tiny wings back, and looked up at me with an expression that could only be described as unimpressed.“You can put down the thistle, by the way. I’m hardly going to attack you. I’m yours, after all.”
“Mine?” I asked, staring at the creature because my tired brain, quite simply, could not keep up with what was happening.
“Aye, lass. Your familiar. Magickal companion. Assistant, even? If one must submit me to such a lowly label.”He flicked his tail, the light rippling across his scales.“Truly, did your grandmother teach you nothing?”
“My grandmother taught me how to organize a card catalog and make a proper cup of tea. She failed to mention a wee talking dragon.”
“I’m a book wyrm, if we’re being technical, not a dragon. There’s a difference.”He sounded offended.“Dragons hoard gold while I hoard knowledge. Far more valuable, in my opinion.”
I lowered the paperweight slowly, my brain struggling to catch up. A book wyrm.Myfamiliar.
Of course. I mean, why not? At this point, what was one more incredible thing?
“Do you have a name?” I asked, feeling incredibly awkward around this tiny, magnificent beastie.
“Quilliam.”
I blinked. “Quilliam?”
“Is there an echo in here? Yes. Quilliam. It’s a perfectlydignified name. It’s not like Agnes is the most original name in the world.”
“I never said it wasn’t dignified.” I bit back a smile as I held up my hands. It seemed the book wyrm was a bit tetchy about his name. “And it seems you already know my name.”
“Aye, Agnes Wright, of the Wright Bookkeepers. I know your name and those before you. I’ve been waiting for you. Are you going to finally step into your role?”
“I…I only just discovered it. Like … minutes ago,” I said, a bit defensively.
“And yet you’re still standing here. Holding a paperweight over your head.”
“Well, excuse me if you surprised me. Have you considered a less sinister way of approaching people?” I grumbled, lowering my arm.
Quilliam uncoiled himself and slithered up the nearest shelf with surprising speed, then launched himself at me.
I yelped and stumbled backward, but he didn’t attack. He simply landed on my shoulder, and I could just barely feel the weight of him. If I turned my head, just so, I could see him peering up at me with glimmering opal eyes.
“Was that any better?”
“I mean, not really, no. Generally speaking, flying at people’s faces doesn’t always end well. Just be happy I didn’t skelp you into the next room.”
“You wouldn’t have been able to hit me.”Quilliam’s voice was smug and I sighed.
“What am I supposed to do with you, exactly?”
“I think it is more…what am I supposed to do with you?We’re supposed to get you to join the Order, lass. Let’s crack on, shall we?”
