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“It went missing for a few years when my stepfather hid it,” Tempest admitted. “But it turned up again, somewhat unexpectedly.”

“Magical items have a way of finding their way back to their owners.” Amrita’s raised one knowing brow. The corners of her eyes crinkled and Tempest realized she liked the director. She made her feel at ease.

“The atlas is our family’s version of a grimoire. It was my mother’s. And her mother’s before her.” Tempest paused. “I actually think it goes back a lot further than that.”

“It does,” Amrita confirmed. “Considerably further.” She looked at Fortune, and Fortune looked back at her, with the amber-eyed patience of an owl who had been waiting for this conversation for some time. This wasn’t lost on Tempest.

“I can’t help but get the feeling the two of you know each other already.” She looked from Amrita to the owl and back again.

“There’s a great deal to tell you,” Amrita confirmed. She brushed a stray lock of hair from Tempest’s brow. “Soon. But not tonight.” She glanced around the room, at the noise and the warmth and the squirrel that was trying to convince Buffalo to sign his soggy shoe. “You’ll forgive me if I make excuses? I am exhausted from our journey.”

“Of course,” Tempest agreed.

“We’ll talk more soon,” Amrita promised. “I’m looking forward to hearing more about you and sharing what I know about your family. You’re a very special kind of witch, Tempest Glass.”

Asha and Priya returned a few minutes later, both wearing the smug expressions of two people who had put a plan into motion without asking permission.

“Priya told me all about the compression charm,” Asha said.

Tempest looked at her friend.

“And we were thinking of a way you might be able to decompress a bit,” Priya suggested.

“Your shelves are too crowded,” Asha said. “And Dan’s…” she gestured toward The Wildernest’s shelves, “are too empty.”

“What are you proposing?” Tempest asked.

“Well normally it would be a real hassle getting that many books through the passage and into the pub,” Priya pointed out. “It would require even more compression charm work, and dollies and tons and tons of packing and unpacking of crates…”

“Priya has a point. It would be a tremendous undertaking,” Asha commented.

Tempest knew her friends were overstating the obstacles, given the magical might in the room, but she let them go on.

“There’s direct access into The Wildernest through The Weighted Anchor tonight, and tonight only,” Asha offered.

“And the bus is parked right out in front of The Weighted Anchor!” Priya clapped her hands together.

“We have plenty of people who can help. We can just walk the books right in.” Asha waved Nell and Zara over. “How would you two feel about organizing a book chain?”

Tempest looked over at Dan, who was still chatting with Will.

“Are you sure that’s something Dan wants?”

“Are you kidding?” Priya asked. She waved her hands to catch Dan’s attention, and he gave her an enthusiastic nod. “We already spoke to him about it. He’s over the moon about the idea. He had no idea where he was going to get enough books for a proper lending library.”

“He wants to set up a lending library?” Tempest felt her heart melting. She couldn’t think of a better community for her books to be a part of than a magical lending library. But something was still giving her pause. “You don’t think it’s moving too soon? Too fast?”

“Honey, you’re putting some books on his shelves.” Asha laughed. “It’s not like leaving a toothbrush in his bathroom.”

Tempest wasn’t entirely sure she agreed, given how passionate and intimate a thing books were to a book witch, but she agreed to the plan nonetheless.

The line formed with the easy efficiency of a community that knew how to do things together. Out from the bus and in through the permitted entrance, straight to the back of the pub and onto the shelves. A community of readers stood ready to make the transfer.

Tempest went to the bus and opened the back doors. She stood inside for a moment, inhaling the familiar smell of old paper and her favorite candle. The Stardust Library smelled like home. But there was more than enough to go around. Thanks to Priya’s compression charm, the bus held enough books to fill a dozen or more libraries like Dan’s. And there were more old books out there waiting to be found. She had already decided to spend at least a portion of the money she’d won on rescuing more used books and preserving more people’s stories.

She picked up the first stack and passed it through the door.

The books moved hand to hand through the chain: Lucretia Lathrop to Hildegarde Fish to Arthur to whoever was next. They were all part of the lending library’s story now. Each person who held each book, no matter how briefly, made an impression. Tempest could feel it, all the way back to the first printing and forward into The Wildernest’s empty shelves.