Chapter Fourteen: Cassie

“Okay. Puzzle pieces.” She stared down at the pieces before her. Each piece was identical. The only difference was that some of them had letters printed on them and some were blank, which she assumed meant a space between the words.

“Do you have a spell for this?” Byron asked.

“No,” Cassie said. “I mean, I’d need a clue. We don’t even know what it spells out. Is it the name of a book?” She glanced around the library. “Because that would make sense, considering our surroundings.”

“Let’s sort them into spaces, vowels, and consonants.” Byron deftly sorted the pieces and then stood back. “Okay.” His brow creased as he stared at the letters. Then he began to place them side by side, making small humming noises as he worked. Slowly, he sorted them into words. Then he sorted them into sentences.

“Yell, if you need help,” Cassie said as she left Byron and went to take a closer look at the wine glasses. She leaned forward and sniffed them, breathing in the scent of ripe berries and spices. But she didn’t touch them or drink them. It probably was a bad idea to drink mystery wine from a tavern escape room.

She straightened up. Somewhere in there must be a clue as to what they were meant to do with the wine. And until that was revealed, it was best to be cautious. Next, she moved on to look at the skeleton keys. They were intricate in design. Each one was unique, with different curves, edges, and symbols etched into the metal. Whoever had made them had incredible skill and craftsmanship.

As she reached out to touch one, Byron’s voice pulled her back to him. “I’ve cracked it!”

Cassie whipped around and hurried back to Byron’s side. “You did?” she asked, peering down at the fully formed sentences laid out on the puzzle board.

Byron nodded. “Once I figured out round and round, and land and hand...”

“Can you explain your thought process later?” Cassie said as she leaned forward and read the words.

“Of course, we’re on a deadline,” Byron said.

“So which book?” Cassie asked as she read the words.

Round and round, the world spins beneath your touch,

Where your hands roam places, your feet cannot touch.

With a gentle turn, the world unfolds,

A parchment plot of the land at hand.

“It’s not a book,” Byron said and brushed past her.

“It’s not?” Cassie asked, shadowing him across the room, only for Brushworth to knock into her ankles as the broom swept the floor, which was already free of any dirt or debris.

“No,” Byron said as he stood before the large globe.

“Oh.” Cassie placed her hand on the globe. “Of course, lands we touch with our fingers, not our feet.” Then she glanced at Byron. “But what do we do with it?”

“That’s where the second part of the riddle comes in,” Byron said. “With a gentle turn, the world unfolds.”

“You want me to turn it?” she asked nervously. “What if I break it? It looks antique.”

“Try not to.” Byron placed his hand on hers. “Together?”

“Together.” She could still feel the faint residue of the connection they had shared as they turned the globe. “Is something supposed to happen?”

“I don’t know,” Byron murmured.

“Maybe there’s something else we need?”Cassie recited the riddle in her head. “Your hands roam places your feet cannot touch.” She raised her hand and positioned the small magnifying glass over the globe, then peered through it. “Turn it slowly.”

Byron did as she asked, and she watched as the world passed by. Some places she’d visited, some her mother and father had described to her from their trips overseas before they had children, and some she’d only read about.

And then there was Wishing Moon Bay, outlined with its mountains and forests penciled in over the topography. It looked charming, even printed in faded ink. There was the dragon isle, and the few islands in between….

“Wait a moment.” Byron placed a hand on the globe to stop it from turning. “I don’t recognize this island.”

Cassie frowned at the splodge of ink in amongst the islands dotted around Wishing Moon Bay. “Are you sure?”

Byron leaned forward. “It’s small, but I’ve flown over the ocean enough times between here and Cairnnor to know there is not an island there.”

Grabbing the globe with both hands, Cassie lined the island up directly under the small magnifying glass. When she looked through the glass, the island filled it entirely. The globe clicked as if a mechanism had been released and then promptly broke in two.

“I liked that. A land that only exists on the globe, so we can touch it, but can never walk on it. And we were supposed to break the globe after all,” Cassie said as she grabbed a piece of parchment before it fluttered to the floor.

“We were.” Byron grinned and leaned over her shoulder as she quickly unfolded the parchment. “A map.”

“A map.” Cassie stared at it. “But of what?”

“Well, it’ll be a map of…” Byron tilted his head as he looked at the parchment. “Huh.”

Cassie turned and spun the map, but it would not give up any more information. The thick, yellowed parchment had a harsh line scrawled across it, joining a jumble of symbols together seemingly at random.

There was a dragon curled around a tower, a magnifying glass lying across a stack of papers, hearts pierced by arrows, and a cracked skull crowned with laurels. None of the sketches seemed to bear any relationship to one another beyond the line of ink that meandered between them.

“Maybe it’s a map of that fake island from the globe?” Cassie glanced over at the hourglass. That had to be their time, and it was relentlessly dumping sand.

“Unless that fake land is made up completely of abstract concepts, I don’t think so. Maybe it’s telling a story? We might have to reenact it,” Byron wondered aloud.

“Where you’re the dragon guarding a tower?” Cassie raised an eyebrow as she looked at him.

Byron shrugged. “It’s a bit stereotypical, but if I have to, I have to.”

Cassie chuckled. “I don’t think that’s what it is. If we can figure out just one of these symbols, we might be able to figure out what they all mean.” She traced her finger across the rough fibers of the parchment.

“The magnifying glass, that could mean we have to search some books for something? Or perhaps solve a mystery,” Byron suggested.

“Maybe…” Cassie followed the line that joined all the symbols together until she found a place where it stopped. “This line doesn’t go past this X. Do you think it’s like X marks to the spot?”

She quickly followed it the other way, with the line stopping at a symbol of a compass.

“That would make a lot of sense.” Byron clicked his fingers. “It’s a treasure map. Just like in Treasure Island. Treasure maps aren’t supposed to be accurate to the terrain, but make landmarks obvious for the purpose of finding the treasure.”

“Okay, so all these symbols are landmarks, but what of?”

Byron looked at the map for a long moment before slowly turning to Cassie. “A fake land of abstract concepts?”

“No—wait. What was that last line of the riddle again?”

Byron looked down at the riddle laid on the table. “A parchment plot of the land at hand.”

Cassie put her fingers to her head. “Okay, we were quite close. These aren’t quite those abstract concepts, but they aren’t physical landmarks.”

Byron pursed his lips, and she could see that he was frantically trying to come to the same conclusion as her.

“I want to give you a minute to figure it out, but we’re pretty short on time,” Cassie said.

“All right, tell me.”

“I think the map is of the library, and each symbol is a genre.”

Byron grinned. “Ah, it’s obvious now. The dragon and the tower are fantasy. The magnifying glass probably is mystery.”

“Exactly. If this place is like any other library, there’ll be sections dedicated to each genre, and we’ve just got to go through all the right ones to find whatever is at the X.”

“Pirate treasure, hopefully.” Byron’s smile faded as he looked up to the dimly lit break in the shelves that made up the walls of the area they were standing in. “I’ll go first. What’s the first symbol?”

“I’d guess we start from this symbol of a compass. So the first one is…looks like a ghost.”

She watched Byron’s jaw tense. “Well, that’s just wonderful.”

“After you, then.” Cassie gave him an innocent smile.

Byron nodded and began to walk toward the edge of the light.

He looked almost right at home in his waistcoat and tie. Though she had to admit he would have been one of the most muscular, good-looking librarians she had ever seen. Perhaps even more attractive by his juxtaposed attire.

Byron stopped just at the edge of the gloom, and she peered past him. There were three paths to take, each long corridor walled by colossal bookshelves. On the corner of each was a plaque.

‘Cozy Mysteries’

‘Trivia’

‘Ghost Stories’

“I don’t suppose we could be looking at a cozy ghost mystery?” Byron asked.

“I don’t think so.” Cassie placed a hand on his broad back, feeling how completely solid he was. She didn’t feel scared of him around. “We can do this. Together.”

Byron glanced back over his shoulder and nodded.

Cassie hung tight to him as they walked forward into the ghost stories aisle, leaving the strange light and feeling of safety behind them. The air chilled around them, and Cassie could begin to see her breath, but her eyes quickly adjusted. She let her eyes wander as they walked, seeing the books filling the shelves on either side of them were thin and twisted, and seemed to shift a little in the peripheral of her vision.

She glanced up and gasped. She swore she could see a figure above peering down at them, but it was quickly gone as she looked.

“What is it?” Byron asked.

“I think there’s something watching us. It was…doll shaped...” Cassie hissed, and shuffled closer to Byron, practically stepping on his heels as he walked.

“I can’t sense anything…” Byron went quiet, and the both of them could hear muffled bumping and creaking to their left.

“Let’s go!” Byron reached back and grabbed her hand, and they both ran.

The thumping got louder, and reams of paper exploded from either side of them, deafening them with the sound of rustling paper and blinding them in a blizzard of pale parchment. Byron picked up his pace, moving so fast that Cassie was practically flying through the air behind him.

In a blur, they stumbled out of the barrage of books and papers and found themselves panting at another intersection between the bookcases.

Cassie tried to steady her breathing but laughter bubbled up inside of her as she looked up at Byron, who stood with his shoulders squared, looking back down the way they came.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I was just wondering whether you were planning on fist-fighting a ghost if it followed us out.”

Byron’s tense expression split into a grin. “I guess I was. What’s the next symbol?”

Cassie glanced down at the map, seeing the arrow through the heart. “Looks like romance.”

“A much-needed change of space after that spooky wing.”

They both looked down to see that they were still holding hands. Cassie felt like she should probably let go, but she just couldn’t bring herself to. There was just something intoxicating about keeping in contact with Byron.

She shrugged. “When in Rome.”

Together they took a left and headed down the next aisle, this one filled with warm air and the scent of roses.

Aware of the time limit, they hurried their way through the next genres, passing through the sounds of a soft harp through the classics, the smoke-filled air of the mystery aisle, and battled their way through a howling wind tunnel through the adventure novels, before finally finding themselves a dead end. Sat on a pedestal was a small chest.

The two of them glanced at each other, not needing to say anything, before both reaching forward and opening the little box. Byron reached in and pulled out a small slip of paper.

“What is that? A shopping list?”

“It’s a list of numbers, sorted into groups of three.” Byron turned it around to show her.

“It must be some kind of code or cipher.” Cassie peered at the ink numbers. “What now?”

“I suppose we head back to the main room and see if we missed anything.” Byron turned.

Cassie shuddered for a moment, not really wanting to have to pass back through the ghost stories, but then she stood up straighter. They had got this far. The two of them wouldn’t let some spook get in their way.

She reached out and grabbed Byron’s hand once again. He turned to look at her, a little confused at first, before he smiled and nodded, and they began to retrace their steps.

***

“What now?” Cassie asked as they headed back through the ghost stories aisle, now thankfully without the unnerving noises and chill air.

“Well, there’s the wine,” Byron said. “Unless the wine is not a clue, and it’s just there to help us get through this.”

Cassie chuckled. “Maybe you’re right, this is enough to drive a person to drink!”

“I’m certainly going to have a drink after we get out of here.” Byron stiffened.

“What’s wrong?” Cassie asked, instantly picking up on his mood change.

“There’s someone else in here with us.” Byron moved ahead of her as if shielding her from whoever he could sense.

“Brushworth?” she whispered.

“No, Brushworth doesn’t give off the same feeling as a person.” Byron slowed as they neared the end of the bookshelves. “Stay here.”

“No,” Cassie replied. “We’re a couple, remember? We’re in this together.”

Byron half-turned to look at her for a moment and then nodded. “Stay close.”

“I will.”

Byron crept forward into the room, and she followed, ready to summon her magic if there was a threat. The broad-shouldered man in front of her was not the only one capable of protecting those he cared for.

And she did care for Byron.

The thought hit her hard, momentarily distracting her. The way she felt about him went beyond the competition. If they had to leave today, she’d want to see him again.

Maybe they could even go on a real date. No, no, she told herself. He was a shifter. There was someone out there who he was meant to be with, who fate had chosen for him, and that someone was not her. She was not his fated mate.

“Good evening to the lovely couple,” a smooth voice greeted them as they left the bookshelves behind and entered the main part of the library Where the owner of the voice lounged on one of the leather sofas, dressed in a burgundy smoking jacket and a pair of black slacks. His hair was slicked back, and he held a glass of wine in his hand.

“Hello,” Byron said warily.

“You’re the wine connoisseur.” Cassie darted past Byron and went to sit on the sofa next to the dapperly dressed man. “What do we do with the wine?”

“Do...with the wine?” the wine connoisseur asked with a curl of his lip.

“Yes. Do?” Cassie asked. “Since you are here, it’s not as simple as drinking the wine.”

“Drinking wine should never be simple,” he said as he tilted his head back and looked down his nose at her. “Neither is it something you ‘do.’ It should always be an experience, full of complexities and subtleties.”

“Maybe you could impart your knowledge to us.” Byron sat down next to Cassie and the sofa dipped under his weight.

“I could,” the wine connoisseur said and took a leisurely sip of his wine. “Notes of black cherry and ripe plum dance boldly on the palate, each sip weaving a complex tapestry with undercurrents of spicy black pepper and a hint of smoky oak. As it opens up, you’ll notice a subtle whisper of dried rose petals and a lingering, velvety vanilla that echoes through the finish. The tannins are well-structured, yet silky, giving a nod to its noble aging in French oak barrels. To truly appreciate the depth, let it linger on your tongue, and you might catch the faintest hint of dark chocolate and anise. Splendid.”

“That’s a clue?” Cassie leaned forward and eyed the wine glasses before them. “Notes of black cherry, but no plum.”

“Start at this end,” Byron lifted the first glass and inhaled deeply before offering Cassie a smell.

“I think can smell black cherry and plum.” She used her hand to waft the aroma toward her. “And vanilla.”

“What do we do when we have chosen the wine?” Byron asked.

“Get it to sing,” the wine connoisseur sighed. “As any good wine with a suitable glass should.”

“Sing?” Perplexed, Byron stared at the wine glass in Cassie’s hand.

“Oh, I know. I see Morwenna fiddling with these glasses all the time when she thinks no one is looking.” Cassie ran her finger around the rim of the glass, going around and around until the glass emitted a pleasant ringing sound. After a few moments, she caught a faint sing-song whisper. “Listen!”

Byron leaned close, so close their heads were touching. “An Ode to Woad. Is that what it said?”

“Woad.” Cassie nodded. “Do you think that’s a book?”

“Yes.” Byron stood up. “But where would it be? Woad is used for dying fabric. But since this is an ode, it could be under the poetry section. Or it could be in crafts. Or it could be in the botanical section.”

“An Ode to Woad, reveal yourself. Come to me from your shelf.” Cassie summoned her magic as she said the words and held out her hands.

“Ah, magic,” Byron said, his eyes shining with admiration as he looked at her.

“No magic. Nothing’s happened.” Cassie closed her hands and the magic dissipated. “We’ll have to go look for the books ourselves.”

“Wait a moment.” Byron went to the nearest shelf and pulled out a book. “The Art of Magic Carpet Making.” Then he placed it back on the shelf. “Try the spell again.”

“The Art of Magic Carpet Making, reveal yourself. Come to me from your shelf.” Cassie summoned her magic and held out her hands. Instantly, the book slipped off the shelf and flew across the room as if being carried by an invisible librarian into her open hand. “It worked.”

“Which means, I think, that ‘An Ode to Woad’ isn’t a real book. At least it’s not in this library,” Byron said. “I would guess that only one of these wine glasses will give us a real book title, and that’s the one we need for the cipher...”

“Okay, let’s listen to the rest of the wine glasses,” Cassie said as she picked up the next glass, and ran her finger around the rim until it began to sing.