Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

Halizanth had spent her entire life in pursuit of stories. Some she found in the pages of ancient tomes, their yellowed paper crackling with secrets. Others lurked in the shadows of dusty archives, waiting to be brought into the light. But her favorite stories were the ones that found her quite by accident, like the grimoire from the Bellerose estate sale.

She had high hopes for the book at first. First because of its rarity, then because of Sooty's theory about the pencil markings pointing to some kind of code, a tantalizing prospect on its own. Then there was the shady man who'd come demanding it, a sure sign there was something of value hidden inside.

But as Halizanth pored over the pages of the grimoire, her excitement waned. The spells contained within were nothing more than cheap glamours, parlour tricks for impressing gullible children. There was a potion for changing the color of one's hair, but nothing to raise the dead or summon otherworldly beings. Halizanth tried every trick in the book, hoping that one might reveal a hidden message or unlock a secret compartment. But the grimoire refused to give up its mysteries.

She'd nearly surrendered it as a lost cause when she stumbled upon the spell for making objects levitate briefly. As she recited the incantation and waved her hand over the air, a burst of magic surged forth, sending a stack of books flying across the room.

"Ah, so that's how it's done," Halizanth said, making a mental note of the trick. It was hardly the kind of spell warranting so much hullabaloo as the grimoire had already caused her—but it might come in handy the next time a particularly insistent customer refused to take no for an answer.

With a heavy heart, Halizanth set the grimoire aside. It was a disappointment, to be sure, when mystery seemed to surround the book, but sometimes a dead end was only that. She made a mental note to contact her rare books brokers later in the week, in case someone else found more value in the grimoire than she could conjure from it, and then set about tidying the rest of the back rooms.

She was elbow-deep in a stack of unbound manuscripts, trying to decide whether to shelve them by subject or author, when a melodic chime announced a visitor. Hali looked up to see Pippa Tumblebottom, a violet-hued fae with gossamer wings and a perpetually wicked gleam in her eye, flit through the door of the shop.

Pippa was a regular at Folio the point of the treats was to draw potential customers in, after all, and what Pippa lacked in financial contributions to Hali's shop, she more than made up for with fat, juicy gossip. Pippa was a font of knowledge on the goings-on throughout Luminara, and the more treats Hali dispensed, the more Pippa shared.

"Morning, Pippa," Hali called. "You're up awfully early collecting your dues."

"Something like that," Pippa said, her words vivid as light through stained glass. She hopped up onto a stool and crossed her legs, the gauzy layers of her skirts billowing around her. "Rumor has it there was another dragon sighting up in the Spine this morning. Nasty business, but I do love the excitement, don't you?"

"I prefer my excitement to be of the printed variety, generally speaking." Hali smiled, and set the stack of manuscripts on the worktable. "But it seems largely harmless, if these dragon sightings can be believed. Nary a maiden getting gobbled up or village set ablaze."

"No, just frightful silhouettes in the sky. Perhaps there's nothing to be afraid of." Pippa leaned over the counter, eyeing the assorted miniature pastries Hali had set out earlier that morning by the register. "Oh, is this lavender?"

"Indeed it is. Now, what can I help you find today?"

"Oh, nothing for me, I'm afraid. Just thought I'd stop by and see how my favorite bookworm is faring." She leaned in, her mischievous smile widening. "Any grand adventures unfolding from your pages? How about dashing suitors coming to sweep you off your feet? You simply must tell me all about it."

Pippa was always teasing her like this, a reminder of just how much Hali was given to her flights of fancy, seeking stories behind every occurrence and epics behind every story. But this time, Pippa didn't quite know how close to the mark she'd struck. Heat rushed to Halizanth's cheeks, and she was suddenly very interested in straightening the papers on the worktable. "I, uh, that is to say?—"

The papers scattered as Pippa lunged forward with a delighted squeal. "Oh, by the moon and stars, there is someone, isn't there? You have to tell me who they are! What they look like! Spill, spill, spill!"

Hesitantly, Halizanth's gaze flicked toward the door, as if by speaking it aloud, she might summon him again. "Well, he's, uh, he's a scholar of sorts, or so he says. Emberforged, with the most striking golden eyes. And the way his hair catches the light?—"

"Sounds positively dreamy. Have you gone out with him? Oh, but of course you haven't, you silly thing. You're probably mooning over him from behind a stack of books." Pippa's wings shimmered with iridescent light as they fluttered behind her. "Hold on, I need to get a better look at this hunk."

"Pippa, wait, I didn't say he was here?—"

But Pippa was already darting past the shelves toward the front of the store, screeching at the top of her lungs. "Mysterious and handsome Emberforged scholar, where are you? I need a love charm, quick, my heart's aflutter!"

"Shut it, Pippa, you're scaring away the customers!" Hali chased after her, and tossed an apologetic smile toward a Skyborn who'd been perusing the travelogues, his feathers ruffling up in bewilderment at Pippa's outburst. "I know you're only here for the pastries, anyway."

Pippa gasped, a scandalized look crossing her delicate features. "I'll have you know I am a voracious reader in my own right! I just happen to have a sweet tooth, is all."

Hali arched a dubious eyebrow. "Uh huh. And what was the last book you bought, then?"

Pippa's eyes darted to the side, her wings fluttering sheepishly. "That's not the point. You're deflecting. I want to hear all about this suitor of yours."

Hali made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. "There is no suitor. Just a customer. And I swear, if you scare him off, I'll never forgive you."

Pippa's laughter was like the tinkling of glass wind chimes. "I make no promises. But if he does come in while I'm here, you'll point him out to me, won't you? I simply must see this paragon of your heart's desire."

After a moment's consideration, Hali nodded. "It's a deal. Now, do you want another pastry or not?"

"Well, since you're offering." Pippa fluttered up into the air, her wings a blur of iridescent blue. "But only one. I don't want to spoil my supper."

Hali rolled her eyes, a fond smile tugging at her lips. "You say that every time, and yet you always manage to wrangle a second and third one out of me."

Pippa's only response was a mischievous giggle as she snatched the lavender scone from Hali's outstretched hand.

Hali set back to work, focusing instead on the task at hand: restocking the dusty reference section that tended to only see movement when there was a new semester beginning at the nearby Luminara University. Heavy, expensive, and dreadfully dry almanacs and ledgers that few purchased by choice, but when they did need them, they sold for more than enough to earn their shelf space.

She'd just finished organizing a stack of oversized atlases that had come in the day before, and was in the process of reordering the tomes on the history of the Old Kingdoms and J?tuneld when something fluttered out from between the pages of one of the books.

Curious, Hali set the book she was holding to one side and plucked the paper from the ground. It was a scrap, its fresh white color incongruous with the musty yellow of the book it had escaped from, and on it were only three lines of blocky text using a Heart Realms alphabet, but organized into no language that Halizanth could make sense of at a glance. As Hali turned it over in her hands, her excitement began to build.

It looked . . . intriguing.

It looked, if she was being honest, like a code of some kind.

She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then tucked the paper into the pocket of her trousers. She had a sneaking suspicion that this was going to turn into one of those stories that found her, whether she wanted it to or not.

The tinkling bell over the door drew Hali's attention, and she looked up, ready to greet the new customer. But the words died in her throat, and her heart gave a traitorous little leap at the sight of the ebon-haired Emberforged who stepped through the door.

"Good morning, Mr. Emberheart," Hali said, her voice a few octaves higher than usual. "How goes the hunt for the primordial artifacts?"

His golden eyes met hers, smoldering with a fire that set embers fluttering in her chest. "I was hoping you might be able to help me find a book on the history of the Old Kingdoms. I've been doing some research on my own, but I fear I've hit a bit of a dead end."

Hali's heart swelled with a heady mix of fondness and excitement. The Old Kingdoms were a particular area of interest for her as well, though for different reasons. She made a vague gesture of assent, then pointed toward the back of the shop. "I believe I have just the thing. If you'll follow me . . ."

As they wound their way through the narrow aisles, Hali caught Pippa's eye, and the fae gave her a sly smile before fluttering off to give them some space. Hali's cheeks flushed, but she couldn't help returning the smile. Pippa might be a nosy little minx, but in this, Hali was grateful for her meddling.

After a few minutes of searching, Hali found the tome she was looking for and handed it to Osric. "This should be right up your alley. It's rather a dry read, but the information is quite thorough."

Osric's lips quirked up in a wry smile. "I'll take thorough over entertaining any day. The history of the Old Kingdoms is far too important to rush through."

Hali's heart did a little dance. It wasn't just that Osric was handsome and mysterious, though he was certainly both of those things. It was the way his eyes lit up with a smoldering intensity when he talked about his research, the passion that seeped into his voice. Hali could listen to him talk about musty old tomes and ancient artifacts all day.

"It's why I find this work so fascinating," Osric said, his fingers brushing against the cover of the book. "There's so much power to be unlocked in the study of the past. Don't you agree, Miss Brightminer?"

"I do," Hali said, leading him back toward the front of the shop. "But I must confess, I'm more drawn to the secrets themselves than any power they might hold. The way a rare book can offer a glimpse into a world long gone, or a new perspective on a historical event . . . It's a kind of magic all its own."

She glanced over at Osric, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She'd bared a piece of her soul to him just now, and she could only hope he understood.

As they neared the front of the shop, Osric began to unbutton his linen shirt, and Hali's breath caught in her throat. She'd only caught the briefest glimpse of the glowing runes that snaked across his chest that one time he'd been in the shop, but it was all she could think about. They were beautiful, in a way that had nothing to do with the molten embers that flickered within them, and everything to do with the strength and bravery it must have taken for him to claim that part of his identity.

"I, uh, I hope I'm not being forward," Osric said, as he fanned himself with the now-open lapels of the tunic, "but I've been working in the forges all morning, and I'm afraid I must be positively filthy. Might I use your washroom for a moment?"

A wave of hissing steam rolled off his bare skin, the runes glowing white-hot across his chest, and Hali's face flushed. "N-no, of course. Do what you need to do."

Hali's heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear anything else. She'd been too caught up in her own head to pay attention to the words they'd been using, but there was something about the way he'd said them, the way he'd smiled at her, that sent a jolt of something through her.

As Osric set about cleaning himself up, Pippa fluttered back into the room, and fixed Hali with a knowing grin. "He's even more handsome in the daylight, isn't he? And did you see those runes? I've never seen anything like them."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hali said, but the blush that spread across her cheeks belied her words.

Pippa's grin only widened. "Uh huh. Look, I'm going to go make another round of pastries. You just . . . do your thing, all right?"

Hali groaned, fanning herself, and Pippa darted off before she could come up with a suitable retort.

A few minutes later, Osric emerged from the washroom, the scent of sandalwood and smoke clinging to his damp skin. He'd pulled on a clean linen shirt, leaving the top few buttons undone, and his short chestnut hair fell in loose waves.Oh, oh. She'd been right before; he was even more stunning in the daylight. There was a rawness to him, a kind of vulnerability in the way he looked at her that sent a thrill through her, and she suddenly felt very much like the one who was being studied, rather than the other way around.

"I'm sorry to run so quickly, but I'm afraid I really must get back to the forges. My boss is a real taskmaster, and I don't want to give him any reason to dock my pay."

"O-oh, yes, of course," Hali stammered, her mind still reeling from the sight of the runes on his chest. "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble on my account."

He flashed her a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the kind of warmth that made Hali's heart flutter. "Thank you for understanding. You've been a real help in my search for these artifacts. I just hope I'm not wasting your time."

"Never that," Hali said, her voice a breathless whisper. "I could talk about rare tomes and ancient lore for hours on end."

"Then I look forward to our next conversation." He turned to go, then paused, his hand on the doorknob. "Perhaps over a cup of tea? I know a lovely little teahouse not far from here."

Hali's heart leaped into her throat. "I . . . I would like that very much."

Osric's smile was like the sun breaking through storm clouds. "Wonderful. I'll stop by again soon, then. In the meantime, I'll get to work on tracking down those primordial artifacts."

He gave her a little half-bow, then headed out into the midday sun, leaving Hali's heart a fluttering mess.

As soon as he was gone, Pippa fluttered back over, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, well. I do believe you have an admirer, Miss Brightminer."

Hali's cheeks burned, and she swatted at the fae. "Oh, hush. It's nothing like that."

"Uh huh. Tell that to the stars in your eyes. And the way you were practically glowing just now. I haven't seen you look that happy since . . . well, since forever, really."

Hali's mind was still reeling from her encounter with Osric, but as she absentmindedly reached into her pocket, her fingers brushed against the scrap of paper she'd found. She pulled it out, and frowned to herself.

How curious that the same book she'd been showing to Osric just now was the same one she'd found the coded paper inside. Twice in one day the old tome had turned up.

A strange coincidence, to be sure, but she was finding a rather lot of those these days.

Later that night, after she'd closed up the shop and climbed the rickety stairs to her cozy apartment above it, Hali pulled the paper out once more and set it on her writing desk. She'd been turning it over and over in her hands all evening, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was important. A puzzle, just waiting to be solved.

She'd already figured out that the symbols weren't random; they repeated too frequently for that. And the more she looked at them, the more she was sure they were just a simple substitution cipher, like the ones she and her uncle used to play with when she was a child.

She scribbled the symbols out on a fresh piece of paper, and set about trying different letters in place of them. After a few false starts, a pattern started to emerge. The second symbol looked an awful lot like the letter "U", and the third one could be an "S" or a "C". The more she stared at the first symbol, the more convinced she became that it was a "D", with the diagonal line just a little too short to be an "O". DUCKS? DOCKS? Neither seemed terribly illuminating.

D_U . . .

DS?

D_CK?

Hali wrinkled her nose. She really hoped it wasn't "DICKS". Not that she had any idea what the message might be about, but she was fairly certain that was not the answer.

She scrutinized the symbols until they seemed to blur and dance before her eyes. Were her guesses at the substitutions wrong, then? Or maybe it was a different kind of code, one that she wasn't familiar with.

She was just about to give up and make herself a cup of camomile tea when she heard it: a soft thump from somewhere below. Hali froze, her heart leaping into her throat. The Folio & Fancy was on a quiet side street, and this late at night, most of the other shops would have closed up. The noise could just be something shifting or falling over in the stacks, she told herself. It had been a while since she'd straightened up down there.

But the more she listened, the more certain she became that it was the unmistakable sound of the front door's latch being jiggled.

She snatched up the paper and the coded message, and stuffed them into the pocket of her dressing gown as she crept out into the hallway. The floorboards groaned under her weight, giving her no chance of making it to the back staircase unheard. She'd need to confront the intruder head on.

She slunk down the side staircase that led to the main floor of the shop, keeping to the shadows. The front door was just at the other end of the room, and she could make out a dim shape in the darkness on the other side of the frosted glass.

With a sudden rush of movement, she lunged for the door and yanked it open.

"Who's there?"

There was a startled yelp, and a figure in a tattered cloak went running off into the night.

"Damn it!"

Hali made it as far as the end of the block, but the street lamps were sparse in this quarter near the wooded University, and they had quickly vanished into the shadows. She hugged her arms around her dressing gown and hurried back to the bookstore, the night air suddenly much too vast and lonely, sharp with a danger she hadn't known she faced. She'd managed to secure the door, but the lock had been mangled, and she didn't relish the idea of leaving it unguarded while she went upstairs, or to fetch the city guard, in case the figure came back. Which meant keeping vigil overnight until Sooty came in, and she could entrust him to watch the shop while she made her report to the guards.

Mind racing, she trudged back into the shop and lit an oil lamp. She was too rattled to think about changing out of her nightclothes, or going back upstairs at all, and the thin cotton clung to her skin as she paced back and forth. She needed to do something, anything, to take her mind off of what had just happened. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about the coded message, and the figure in the tattered cloak.

Who were they, and what had they been looking for?

The more she turned the question over in her mind, the more determined she became to find an answer. She was tired of being afraid, of tiptoeing around the shop at night, of jumping at every little noise. She needed to know the truth, whatever it might be.

Even if it meant putting herself in danger.