Page 38 of The Book of Unwritten Stories

Dora huffed indignantly but knew better than to argue with Lenny. What her aunt thought was not something she could change her mind on so easily. She was ready though, more than ready to learn everything there was to know about her father.

THIRTY

Showered and changed, Dora didn’t even tell Ambrose where she was going. He had offered to come with her to find the bookstore when they’d met last night, but despite having a moment with him (a moment when she forgot all of her troubles) she still needed some space, needed to do this on her own and prove to herself she could stand on her own two feet. And deal with the anxieties she had about Corwin returning.

She had taken an Uber to the exact street where she and Ambrose had come, where she had hugged the tree that had told her what she needed to know. The tree was there, majestic with its burnt orange and gold autumn foliage. Dora could not ignore it and she crossed towards it, this time checking if the guy in the fancy house was around before she did anything. This was a beautiful, quiet street so she quickly hugged the tree and whispered, ‘Thank you again. You helped to save my life last time.’ Dora was sure the tree sighed back at her, and she kissed the bark before pulling away.

She walked down to the little path that led into the woods. It looked the same, then again, it hadn’t been hundreds of years this time, just a matter of weeks. The birds were chirping and the deeper she walked into them the more at home she felt. She caught a dark shadow fly above and looked up to see Hades.

‘Well, thank thee for joining me, my friend. How come you followed me here and where have you been sneaking off to? Sephy is worried about you, but I think you have found a mate and are having a good time.’

Hades squawked so loud it echoed through the trees and made Dora giggle. ‘Okay, sorry that was a bit personal.’

He swooped down and she held out her arm for him. Perching on it he stared at her.

‘What have you been doing though, not that I care. I just wonder what a bird gets up to, I mean I know nothing about birds or if I did, I’ve forgotten, which is terrible, I know.’

‘Trouble.’

Dora stopped and stared at him. ‘Who is in trouble?’ She twisted her head in every direction, looking for something, anything that might signify she was in trouble.

‘Am I in trouble?’

He shook his head. ‘Trouble is trouble.’ Then he soared off up to the sky through a break in the trees leaving Dora confused. What was he talking about, trouble is trouble, it didn’t make sense?

After some time of walking through the undergrowth that seemed to have grown back even thicker than it was the first time, she tried to figure out what the bird was talking about. She stopped at the tiny path bordered with thick brambles and her stomach did a full-on roll. She hadn’t cloaked the bookstore; this path should have been covered again. The thought made her head spin as she hurried along the path until she saw the dilapidated old wooden store. ‘Crap.’ Still there, in the middle of the woods just like she’d left it – for anyone to find. The door ajar, darkness spilling out of it.

Dora’s heart was racing. She turned on the flashlight on her phone and hurried towards it. ‘Hello, is anyone inside?’ Her voice echoed, and she listened before stepping inside to make sure there wasn’t a bear or wild cat inside.

As she walked in, she inhaled the aroma of paper and leather, the most magical smell in the world. It astounded her how after all this time, the beautiful first editions of many books were still in pristine condition. It was the magic. She smiled to herself as she picked up the copy of Romeo and Juliet she had adored so much. This one was coming with her, she thought as she shrugged off her backpack and tucked it inside. She wanted to take them all with her, but somehow it didn’t seem right. They might not last so well on the outside of the bookstore. Lucine’s book of spells seemed to be doing okay though so she would chance it with this one and if it survived then she would bring a cart and remove the rest of the books. She looked around, first editions of some of the most classic books ever written, Hamlet, The Tempest, MacBeth, William Shakespeare buffs would be in heaven with the collection that Ambrose had hidden in here, Don Quixote, books about plants, herbs, cyclopaedias. Dora began moving slowly, and noticed a gap in the shelf. A book was clearly missing. Checking the floor to see if it had toppled off, it hadn’t, and she didn’t think a wild animal had been at it either because they would have taken all the books not plucked one out of the middle. Could this be the book Lenny had spoken of last night, a book of unfinished spells that her mom had written and if so who had found it? This time Dora photographed every book before whispering to them, ‘I will come back for you all soon, I promise. For now, I know you are safe and I will keep you that way.’

She blew kisses to the books that had been her only source of pleasure back in 1692, before her entire world came crashing down. Then she stepped outside into the woods. The birds were still singing, and it was peaceful.

She didn’t pick up on anything bad; it didn’t feel as if Corwin had been inside her precious bookstore, but somebody had and there was this tiny niggle inside of her. She would tell Lenny and Sephy about the missing book. Could it explain the way Lenny had been feeling that something was off in Salem?

Dora pushed the door shut the best that she could. It was warped and swollen with age, but she put her shoulder against it and shoved as hard as possible. Then she stepped away and pointed her index finger towards the door, softly whispering,

‘Bookstore your secrets you will keep, fold into the night and go to sleep, keep thyself safe from prying eyes until it’s time once more to open wide.’

Dora chanted the words three times and watched as the blue and gold sparks flew from the tip of her finger towards the door. Her mouth open wide, she watched with pride as the old, much-loved bookstore began to shimmer in front of her eyes like a desert mirage under the midday sun. And then with a loud pop it was gone. The birds that had been singing took off in fright at the loud noise. She laughed.

‘Sorry, that was me, didn’t mean to scare you.’ Then she clapped her hands and sat down on the wide, flat rock which she and Ambrose had first sat on last time they were here, smiling to herself. No idea where those words or the blue and gold sparks had come from, but feeling extremely satisfied that she had successfully cloaked the bookstore.

THIRTY-ONE

SALEM VILLAGE, 1676

Lucine guided John deep into the forest. She knew of a small pool that barely anyone used because it was such a long walk. Some of the Naumkeag, who passed through this way occasionally, fished in the pool. The villagers were terrified of them, but Lucine was not and had made pleasant enough conversation with those she sometimes came across in the forest. They knew she meant them no harm. One day she had helped a young boy who had been hunting and managed to spear his own foot instead of the fish he was trying to catch. She had attended to him, bathing his foot, wrapping it in torn linen from her petticoat and helping him back to the safety of his camp.

They would be safe at the pool, to sit and converse, drink ale and eat whatever Seraphina had packed for them, bread and cheese most probably. Meat was scarce because they only hunted when the need was too great. Lulled by the gentle rocking as the horse made its way to where she was guiding John, she could have closed her eyes. There was a loud yell. So loud, she almost slipped off the horse’s back in fright.

‘What was that?’ she whispered, clinging onto the back of John’s breeches.

‘It sounds as if someone has hurt themselves. Pray we should go and see if they need help.’

She shook her head. ‘Whoever else is out here is up to no good, only the Naumkeag hunt this far into the woods and that did not sound like one of their yells or chants.’

‘Then you await here and I will take a look.’