Chapter Fifteen: Byron

“I really thought Travel by Camel: A Journey Through Panjara was a published book.” Byron stared down the aisles of bookshelves in exasperation.

“Maybe it is, and my magic just isn’t working,” Cassie said as they returned to the sofas, where the wine connoisseur was lounging back, with a slightly bemused expression on his face.

Or irritation,his dragon said. It’s hard to tell.

“Would you like me to repeat my description of this delectable wine?” he drawled.

“No, we’ve got it,” Cassie replied as she ran her finger around the rim of glass number four. “I don’t think this one is working.”

“You can’t hear it?” Byron asked as he pressed his ear closer to the glass and strained to listen.

“No.” Cassie shook her head and slumped back on the sofa.

“It’s No Business of Yours: A Guide to Keeping Your Nose Out of Other People’s Affairs,” Byron said.

“Could these book titles get any longer?” Cassie complained as she cast the spell. “Nothing.”

“Let’s try the next one.”

“Wait!” Cassie held up her hand “How did you hear what that last one said? I couldn’t hear a thing.”

“It was very faint, but with my shifter senses I could just about hear it.”

“They’re getting quieter every time, aren’t they?” Cassie asked.

Byron rubbed his chin, then nodded. “I think you might be right. Every time we pick up the wrong glass, they get quieter.”

Cassie shook her head. “We’re only four down out of ten, and I think if we don’t get the next one right, even you aren’t going to be able to hear what it sings.”

Byron eyed the six remaining glasses. “Those are not favorable odds for us. We’ve been trying to brute force the puzzle, but it’s not going to work.”

“So, there are rules, after all,” Cassie said.

“It looks like it. At least we’ve narrowed it down a bit.” His gaze rested on the connoisseur.

Is it me or is he looking even more condescending than before? Byron’s dragon asked.

No, it’s not you. He definitely is.Byron put his hand on Cassie’s shoulder as she reached for the next glass.

“We need to hear what the wine connoisseur said again,” Byron told her.

Cassie studied him for a moment and then nodded. “Okay.”

“Could you repeat your description, please?” Byron asked.

“I thought you would never ask,” the wine connoisseur said smugly and took a sip of his wine, which never seemed to deplete. “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 subtle whispers 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.”

“Okay. Black cherry, ripe plum, spicy black pepper, and a hint of aged oak,” Byron listed.

“And a hint of rose petals and vanilla,” Cassie added.

“You have cannibalized my words,” the wine connoisseur huffed indignantly, cheeks puffing out like an affronted bullfrog. “Truly, you lack the artistry required for a task as delicate as this.”

Ignoring his injured pride, Byron continued to list the other tastes. “Dark chocolate and…anise.” He then turned to Cassie, his eyes serious. “Let’s smell each glass and try to pick out the right one. It can’t just have some of the aromas, it will have to have all of them.”

“Okay, if I can remember them all,” Cassie agreed.

“You remember the rose petals, vanilla, dark chocolate, and anise. I’ll remember the rest.” Byron picked up a glass and carefully swirled the dark liquid, releasing the rich aromas. He took a long and deliberate sniff, letting the scents invade his senses. The black cherry and ripe plum were unmistakable. And he was sure the wine had a peppery smell, but he was not sure about its bitterness. He passed the glass to Cassie and watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Yes, definitely vanilla,” she murmured with a nod. Her nose crinkled slightly as she took another inhale. “But no rose petals. It doesn’t smell sweet enough.”

They repeated the process with three more glasses, carefully smelling them all and noting their nuanced differences. The second glass was an explosion of spicy black pepper and a bold undercurrent of smoky oak, but none of the other required notes. The third one was similar, yet it carried a faint echo of dark chocolate and anise. With each sniff, Cassie’s face twisted with increasing uncertainty, her eyes reflecting her torment as the pressure to pick the right blend weighed on her.

“They’re all starting to smell the same.” Her comment was met by a huff and an eye roll from the wine connoisseur, who continued his offended posturing.

“I think it’s this one.” Byron held up the glass, and she leaned forward and wafted the aroma toward her. “What do you think?”

“I think your senses are better than mine.” She tilted her head to one side. “And if you are wrong, I won’t blame you. This is hard.”

I will, his dragon puffed.

Byron lifted the glass to his nose, inhaled deeply, and opened his mouth to let his taste buds join the sensory experience, a tip he’d read about in a vineyard pamphlet once. The rich aromas danced upon his tongue, and he chewed the air as if he could physically taste it. “Black cherry, ripe plum, rose petals, vanilla, dark chocolate, anise, and a hint of aged oak,” he rattled off, moving the glass away from his nose to study the ruby liquid within. “This is it, Cassie. This is the perfect blend. It smells delicious, to be honest.”

“Okay then.” Cassie hesitated, her fingers lingering on the rim of the glass. “I trust you, Byron.”

You’d better be right, his dragon grumbled as Cassie ran her finger around the rim of the glass.

The singing was barely audible this time and Byron had to lean right in to hear. “The Panjara Chronicles: Whispers of Fate.”

“Of course.” Cassie held out her hands and cast the spell.

“I hear it!” Byron said as the distant sound of a book sliding off a shelf reached him. Then there was silence, and he held his breath until a couple of minutes later, the book floated into the room and landed in Cassie’s outstretched hands.

“Okay, grab the cipher,” Cassie ordered as she placed the book on the coffee table. “He’s gone!”

Byron had been too engrossed in the game to sense the connoisseur’s departure from the room.

I’m certain he did not depart, at least not through any physical means, Byron’s dragon said.

He just vanished into thin air?Byron asked, scanning the room, but there was no sign of where he’d gone.

“Byron,” Cassie urged.

“Cipher,” Byron said and grabbed it from where he’d tucked it inside his waistcoat for safe keeping. “Here.” He placed it down next to the book.

“Okay, so do we think the numbers are a page number, a line number, and then a number corresponding to a letter?” Cassie asked as she glanced at the first number and flipped open the book.

“That would make sense,” Byron agreed as he said. “Page one-oh-five. Line number twenty-three.” He watched Cassie run her finger down the page. When she stopped, he added, “Three.”

“Do you think it’s word three or letter three?” Cassie asked as she moved her finger along the page.

“Letter,” Byron assured her. “Because this number is fifty and I don’t think there’ll be fifty words on a line.”

“Just checking,” Cassie said. “First letter, P.”

“First letter, P,” Byron repeated.

They worked their way through the cipher clues, and it soon became obvious what the word was. But without exchanging words, they worked through to the last letter, not wanting to waste time with a ‘shortcut’ again.

“Projector,” Cassie said. “That’s what it spells.”

“I concur.” Byron leaned back on the sofa and rubbed at his temples.

“Are you okay?” Cassie asked.

“Nothing a cup of coffee and a sandwich wouldn’t fix.” He pushed himself to his feet. “The projector’s over there.”

He held out his hand to her and, with a gentle tug, pulled Cassie from her seat and led her over to the hulking piece of equipment tucked away in the corner of the room.

“It looks as old as the tavern,” Cassie said as she pressed a button and switched it on. Instantly, it shone a light onto the wall. “I guess we need to find the slides.”

“You know this projector isn’t plugged into any power source.” Byron tugged at the power cord and held it up as proof.

“Magic is a power source, and the tavern is magic, I suppose,” Cassie said.

“So, do you think the wine connoisseur is magic, too?” Byron asked with a shudder as he looked back toward the empty sofa.

“I think we have other things to worry about,” Cassie said. “Such as, what do we put in this projector?”

“Let’s go look around.” Byron scanned the room and then headed off to check out the various shelves and tables.

“Here.” Cassie pointed down at the table the projector stood on, specifically the locked drawer built into it. “We need a key.”

“A skeleton key?” Byron grabbed the display box and carried it over to the projector. “Which one?”

“I’d say let’s try them one at a time, but I don’t want to find out what will happen if we get it wrong.” Cassie looked over at the emptying hourglass. “And I think it would take too long.”

“Okay, let’s try to figure it out.” Byron tugged his chin as she stared at the intricately carved keys.

His dragon puffed out a plume of smoke. The one with the dragon embossed on it, he suggested.

Byron was skeptical. Just because you’re a dragon doesn’t mean it’s the dragon key.

Look closer,his dragon said.

Byron leaned forward and peered closer. Then he plucked the skeleton key from the display and handed it to Cassie. “This one.”

“How can you be sure?” Cassie asked, but she was already inserting it into the small lock.

“It has my family crest on it,” Byron replied, somber.

Cassie glanced over her shoulder at him as she turned the key and was rewarded with a satisfying click. “That’s it.”

Now, how did that get here?his dragon sounded unnerved.

We can add that to the growing list of questions about this place. Byron pursed his lips. I wonder if finding that was supposed to have some greater meaning.

Cassie pulled the drawer open and took out a large box of slides. As she took one out and put it in the projector, the room was cast in twilight, and above their heads, a constellation swirled around. It was beautiful, as if they stood amongst the stars and galaxies of the universe, which drifted lazily around them like leaves in a pond.

But there was no time to sit and admire the cosmos.

Byron lifted a couple more slides out of the box. Each held on it a pattern of stars—a constellation, where each star was connected and faintly glowing. Beyond each constellation being different, each slide was identical, with no way that Byron could see to discern which slide was correct. “No wonder the key was so easy. Because we have no idea what we’re looking for now that this drawer is open.”

“There must be a clue in here somewhere.” Cassie removed the slide and put it back in the box, the stars disappearing, and the light level returning to normal. “All we have to do is find it.”

“Then let’s start looking,” Byron said wearily.

He turned around and scanned the room, checking out the wall art. Maybe one of the paintings on the wall depicted a certain constellation.

Let’s go take a look,his dragon said.

As he stepped forward, he nearly tripped over Brushworth, who was still busily sweeping the floor. “Don’t you ever sleep, Brushworth?”

But the broom just kept on going.

“Do you think we’ve missed something?” Cassie asked as she trailed her fingers along the bookshelves in the main part of the library.

“Yes,” Byron said and mustered a grin.

“Obviously,” Cassie said with a smile. “Maybe there’s one of your books in here. Do you have any books that mention constellations?”

“Not specifically,” Byron said. “I haven’t gotten round to astronomy yet.”

“Ouch. Excuse you, Brushworth!” Cassie said as she grabbed hold of the brush handle to stop herself from falling to the floor.

But the brush didn’t stop. As Cassie held onto it, it pulled her along. And Cassie followed.

“This is no time to dance with Brushworth,” Byron told her.

“I’m not dancing,” Cassie said as Brushworth paused for a moment, before turning and heading off again at a forty-five-degree angle. “I think Brushworth is following the same route. And he pauses for a second or two every so often.”

Byron turned away from the paintings on the wall and watched as Brushworth led Cassie around the room. “You’re right. He’s following the same path.”

“Brushworth has been giving us a clue all this time.” Cassie let go of the broom handle and stepped back, watching as the broom continued its seemingly random yet deliberate pattern across the room.

Byron followed the broom’s trajectory. “The slides.” He dashed back to the projector table and grabbed the slides. “Let’s use the wine glasses to help us mark the points where Brushworth pauses.”

“Good idea.” Cassie joined Byron at the coffee table and set the wineglasses to one side. “Okay. He’s stopped.”

Together they watched Brushworth as he continued his route around the room, sweeping around the couch, the tables, and piles of books. Each time he paused, they placed a wineglass on the floor, adding and adjusting their positions until they thought they had it right, thankful that there were enough, and Brushworth swept over the glasses delicately as he passed, not knocking them over.

“Let’s see if we can’t find a constellation that matches.”

The two of them headed back to the projector, and sifted through the slides together, carefully matching the points of the constellations with the placement of the wineglasses.

“I think this is the one,” Cassie said, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Look.”

“I think you’re right.” Byron stood up. “Let’s compare it to the original.”

Cassie nodded, and they went to Brushworth and followed him around the room, pacing out the route to check they had the correct approximate distances between the points.

You do know this is timed, his dragon said.

And you do know we don’t know what might happen if we get this wrong,Byron told his dragon as he looked at the dwindling pool of sand in the hourglass. They really didn’t have long left.

Ah, you are worried that if we get this wrong, we might put Cassie in danger. His dragon puffed out a plume of smoke in exasperated agreement.

I’d rather drop out of the competition than drop into a burning star, which for all we know is what will happen if we get this wrong too many times, Byron said.

“This is it, Byron.” Cassie was certain. And he was certain.

Time to stop stalling, his dragon said.

But part of Byron didn’t want this trial to end. They’d worked closely together to get this far. But as soon as they left the library, they would be apart again. They were still fake dating, after all, and Cassie didn’t seem all that interested in extra-curricular activities.

Until the next trial,his dragon reminded him.

“Do you want to do the honors?” Byron asked, handing the slide to Cassie.

“Together.” Cassie held out her hand to him and he threaded his fingers through hers, feeling the instant connection. One that had grown stronger during their time in the library.

And when she looked up at him and their eyes locked, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she felt it, too.

As Brushworth continued his route around the library, Byron raised his hand, holding the slide, and together they pushed it into the projector. Instantly, the room dimmed, and stars appeared all around them.

The shelves at the edge of the room were barely visible in the dimmed light, and Byron felt a sense of weightlessness. He could almost believe that they were swimming with the stars. He turned to look at Cassie, whose features were caressed by the soft glow of the sparkling orbs of light around them.

She caught his gaze for a moment and smiled, a sight brighter and more breathtaking than all the stars in the room around them before she pointed forward. “They align.” Cassie gestured to the wine glasses. They seemed to catch the light of the stars, glimmering and singing softly.

Brushworth continued his journey, passing through clouds of nebula as he dusted away the ribbons of solar winds emanating from the stars as he followed the line of the constellation.

“But what next?” Byron asked as he scanned the room. “There are no other clues.”

“He’s stopped.” Cassie tightened her grip on his hand. “Brushworth has stopped.” She pulled Byron away from the projector toward the besom broom.

“Where’s he going?” Byron asked as Brushworth pivoted suddenly and headed for the door they had entered through nearly an hour ago.

“Is he going to pass through it?” Cassie asked, but as Brushworth approached, the door swung open, and he slipped out into the corridor.

“Is that it?” Byron asked, half-expecting the door to close behind the broom. But instead, it stood open.

“I guess so.” Cassie cracked a wide smile. “We did it!”

“We did!” Byron slid his arms around her waist and lifted her from her feet as he spun her around and around.

She giggled and clung to him, her head thrown back, her lips close to his. Then they were kissing. He didn’t know who kissed who, but as their lips moved together, it was as if all the stars in the universe were shining down on them.