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“Nonsense,” she says, lifting her narrow face proudly in a rather impressive imitation of my mother, especially seeing as how she never met her. “There has never been a Thane-Durmont born who is not a diviner. It’s in your blood. It’s who you are.”
I sigh and prop my chin on my hand. “Sure, that is what they say.”
Adiele bites her bottom lip as she regards me. “You do seem to struggle a bit more than any diviner I’ve trained—and it’s not due to any lack of power. Anyone can sense you have plenty. You just aren’t… getting it.” She looks over at me helplessly, like she thinks she has failed me. I’m not disappointed though. Just the opposite, I’m relieved. Now I know for certainty that it is not a personal failing. I am just not a diviner and I’ve been wasting a lot of time trying to discover an ability that just isn’t mine.
I throw my hands out in triumph. “See! That is what I have been trying to tell everyone. It is not that I am unfocused, or not trying, like everyone likes to say. It just doesn’t work well for me.”
Adiele sighs and sinks down into her chair in defeat. “I’m sorry, Keri. I feel like I failed you. I was so sure that, with your family history, I could help you.”
I brush my hand back through my hair and grin. “It’s okay, Adiele. I appreciate that you gave up your entire morning and afternoon to help me out for this long.”
She gives me a lopsided smile. “Anything for you, babe. So how about we clean up this mess and move onto something more interesting?”
I nod and proceed to help Adiele clean up the worktable. I take the scrying bowl out to the garden and pour the water over the flower bed. As I do so, I whisper thanks to its spirits while Adiele snuffs and clears away the candles and herbs burned for incense. She takes the bowl from me when I come back in, and we sit together at the table. For the first time in memory, I sit entirely relaxed in the company of another witch. No pressure whatsoever to try to be something I’m not.
It may horrify my entire family, but over the last several weeks I’ve come to the realization that I’m not interested in being any kind of professional diviner. I want to discover my magic and find my true calling. I do feel called to the sea. Perhaps I will see where studying water witchery may take me. My position as librarian at the Occult Library certainly puts me in the perfect position to research.
When not helping the random witch or sorcerer who comes through or shelving books, I have ample downtime for my own studies. Sometimes I get a shapeshifter. Occasionally one of the more human-friendly fae—some of which we would more properly call monsters given their appearance—pop in. It’s usually with a tome or magical item to sell. Some fae are marvelously adept at finding rare spell-books and charms, while others tend to hoard them and pick a random treasure to relinquish in the spirit of “charitable cooperation.”
By that I mean they sell them to the High Council of Seattle—and the outlying cities, which includes our small town—at outrageous prices, using the Occult Library as an intermediary. Our isolated location outside the city makes it more convenient point for those who feel uncomfortable venturing into the large human cities. We somehow manage to do quite a bit of business.
“How is work?” Adiele asks, sipping a cup of coffee as she hands me a similar cup with a bold logo that proclaims “Have Coffee, Will Witchcraft” in bright red letters.
“It’s been quiet lately. I had a few werewolves in the other day. One of the younger members of their pack got stuck partially shifted, and they needed access to the restricted shapeshifter section to look up how to resolve it.”
The restricted sections are a pain in the ass. Unless you work for the library or have Council clearance, the donated texts by various species to help their larger communities are off limits. That is part of the agreement that came with acquiring the texts, since no one wants anyone from another species having knowledge that could potentially be used to harm them.
As an employee I get to sate my curiosity because I’m bound magically by a number of extremely specific oaths to not use any of it to cause harm, but I’m also stuck with the miserable job of policing access to it. Which is normally not a problem until a witch gets a hair up their ass because they can’t read up on magic that doesn’t belong to them. Thankfully each of these sections are key-code locked.
Adiele’s eyebrows climbed. “Were they able to fix it?”
“I suspect so since they left in high spirits and didn’t return. I have my fingers crossed for that kid. It was his first shift, and I have heard that’s particularly hard. ”
My friend shakes her head and takes another sip.
“What about you?” I ask. “Anything new going on down at the shop? Haven’t been by in a few days.”
Adiele snickers into her cup. “Just the usual entertainment that comes when you have giggly girls with teenage hormones for customers. I had a couple of girls looking over some of the charms when a merman came in. And you know how that species is,” she says, giving me a meaningful look.
“By reputation only, but I can certainly imagine,” I reply.
There are several fae species out there that are panty-melting hot and that have an instant effect on the female libido. I have seen a seventy-year-old grandmother get worked up over a merman before. They’re sizzling hot and know how to work it. However, with merfolk you must be extra careful because you never know how much of your attraction is you and how much is from their glamour and siren’s song. Sirens are a different beast, but they share that devastating ability to influence with their voice. Merfolk and sirens also both have the disturbing tendency of choosing to eat people they don’t like.
Yeah, not my idea of an ideal bedmate.
Still, imagining the girls’ reaction brings a smile to my face. “I’m sure that gave them something to talk about all the way home.”
Adiele bursts out laughing. “Are you kidding? They were still in my shop when they started talking. And within earshot of the merman. I swear he was practically preening as the girls giggled over him. I finally had to shoo them out just so I could get him taken care of before closing time.”
“I bet you did,” I grin wickedly.
Adiele chokes on her coffee and glares at me. “Not that way, you weirdo.”
I chuckle unrepentantly and take another long sip, hiding my intrigue behind the rim of my mug. I’m almost envious of my friend with the way she so easily meets the most interesting beings while I’m practically hidden and locked away from the world much of the day unless someone has a problem or needs to locate a piece of information.
A librarian is not the object of anyone’s lusts, it seems, despite the old stereotype. I love my job, but I can’t help but wish for a little something more.
Keri
