by Elle Adams
“You have one thing in common, then.” Cass sat down at the far end of the table and picked up her fork. “Except for the lack of style.”
“Cass, are you incapable of opening your mouth without an insult coming out of it?” Estelle said.
“No,” Cass said, shovelling potatoes into her mouth.
“Pretty sure there’s a cure for that in one of the books here.” I started eating. Aunt Adelaide, as it turned out, was an amazing cook. I’d have a hard time picking between her cooking and Zee’s homemade muffins.
Aunt Candace gave a laugh. “This is going to be interesting.”
I spotted the pen and notebook floating at her side. “Are you recording our conversation?”
“I have to get my research somewhere, don’t I?”
“I have news,” interrupted Aunt Adelaide. “Elliot heard about Rory and has insisted on inviting himself round for dinner tomorrow. Cass and Estelle’s father,” she added, for my benefit. “We divorced a decade ago, but he’s still a good friend of the family.”
Cass made a disparaging noise.
“Dad’s fine,” said Estelle. “I wondered if he’d volunteer himself as your magic tutor, Rory… you’ll need one. A tutor for regular magic, not for biblio-witchery.”
“Yeah, no chance of that,” said Cass. “He’s not the first person who hoped he’d tame the library by marrying one of us. But I thought you had a date tomorrow, Mum. Blowing it off for him?”
Aunt Adelaide went brick red. “Really, Cass. No, we rescheduled. Until this murder business is taken care of.”
“Not another policeman?” Cass said.
Aunt Adelaide scowled. “Please refrain from commenting on my love life at the table. Unless you’d like me to comment on yours.”
Aunt Candace’s notebook practically vibrated with excitement. I could tell this was a frequent argument.
“When do my magic lessons start?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
Aunt Adelaide turned to me. “Tomorrow, we’ll see about you starting you off in magical theory. The current law states that you have to pass the first exam of the entry-level class before you can apply for a wand. As for biblio-witchery, I’ll arrange for the library to provide you with your own pen, notebook, and Biblio-Witch Inventory. For now, we’ll stick to teaching you the basics of the library.”
I grinned. I had a familiar, and before long, I’d get to learn magic for real. Whatever Cass said, I wasn’t going anywhere.
8
The next morning, I woke to a bird shrieking in my ear.
“It’s time for your first magic lesson!” proclaimed Sylvester, perching on the end of my bed.
“No need to shout.” I looked blearily around. Jet was nowhere in sight. No wonder. “What kind of magic lesson are we talking about?”
“A non-existent one at the rate you’re going. Don’t get too excited. You won’t get a proper book or wand until you can prove you’re not incompetent.”
“Hey, I used magic once already.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “How do you know I’ll be that bad at it?”
“Because your familiar is a crow,” he said. “Not a very bright one, either.”
“Better a crow than a—”
The owl’s wings spread wide, making him look three times his usual size. “Might want to rethink before you finish that sentence.”
“I need more coffee before I can think.” I pushed the bedcovers aside. “Shoo. Let me get dressed in peace.”
“I’m concerned you won’t know which way to put your shirt on, the state you’re in.” He took flight, swooping around the room.
I swatted at him. “I don’t need an owl as a nanny. Maybe I’ll mark this room as an owl-free zone.”
“You can’t do that, dear. The library makes the rules.”
Luckily, he didn’t hang around to berate me while I pulled on my clothes, wishing I could grab a coffee to go. I made a mental note to get a kettle for my room for the days where the library wouldn’t let me walk downstairs in a straight line. I’d need it.
Shockingly, I got lost on the way downstairs. The third time I walked to the corridor’s end looking for the stairs, the floor opened up in front of me, revealing a slide. A slide was better than a missing stair, so I shrugged and climbed into it.
A mistake. I slid halfway down, then got stuck. That’s what I got for making decisions while half-asleep. I shuffled down a few inches, mourning my dignity. At least nobody could see me in here.
Sylvester’s laughter echoed down the slide behind me. Or maybe not.
The owl’s voice came from behind my shoulder. “Want me to fly you out?”
“Can you do that?”
“No.” He snorted. “Well done. You’ll have to wait for someone to pull you out. Or send a smoke signal.”
“Hilarious.” It was lucky I wasn’t claustrophobic. “Can’t you fly to my aunt and tell her?”
“She won’t get you out either. You know you’re sitting in the garbage chute, don’t you?”
“What?”
“Joking, joking.”
“You!” I twisted around to give him a glare and hit my head on the ceiling. Ow.
The owl laughed again, the sound growing fainter by the second as he flew away. Wonderful.
I swore, shuffled forwards a few more metres, then abruptly dropped out of the slide into a ball pit.
“The library sent you to the kiddies’ play area.” Sylvester flew over my head. “Probably because the average age for a new witch is five years old. Ha.”
“If you tell Cass, I’ll yank out your tail feathers.”
“You would never.” He gave an indignant squawk and flew off, while I picked my way out of the ball pit, now thoroughly wide awake. I’d had entirely too much humiliation for this hour in the morning.
I walked out of the kids’ play area and got my bearings. At least I’d landed on the right floor. I assumed my lesson would take place in one of the classrooms, so I made my way past the Reading Corner. Spotting an open door, I found Aunt Candace inside.
“Ah, Rory,” she said, beckoning me in. “My sister has designated me as your theory tutor until you pass your wand exam. I’ll not waste time pretending to be a halfway decent teacher, so let’s get that part out of the way to avoid disappointment later down the line.”
“Er, okay.” I entered and took a seat in the front row. A pen and notepad lay on my desk beside a textbook open to the first double page spread, titled, “Basic Definitions”.
“Your task is to read and copy the main points from the chapter,” Aunt Candace said in a bored voice. “Every type of magic has a definition. The academy states you have to match their exact wording without any deviation. As long as you refrain from demonstrating any ingenuity, you should be fine.”
Someone had strong feelings on the magical education system, apparently.
“All right…” I turned to the page. “This is about the different types of magic, right?”
“Yes, it is,” said Aunt Candace. “I find it limiting, but they do like their traditions.”
I read over the definitions. Spells, curses and hexes were all different. Hexes were hostile spells cast on a person with a wand, while curses could be put on an object instead of a person or set on a timer to hit their intended target a week after the caster actually used the curse.
No wonder the town needed a professional curse-breaker to sort out the aftermath. But nothing in the beginner’s book said anything about curses removing people’s souls. Not really a surprise, since the cursed book had stumped even my aunts.
I spent an hour copying out the various definitions, then Aunt Candace dismissed me. I found Estelle waiting outside the classroom with a bag of breakfast muffins from Zee’s place.
“Oh, thanks,” I said, taking the muffin she offered and biting into it.
“Don’t tell Mum,” said Estelle. “I had a couple of errands to run and I couldn’t resist. How was your lesson?”
“Bet
ter than my attempt to get to it,” I admitted.
Estelle tried not to laugh at my tale of the saga of the slide and the ball pit, but when I mentioned Sylvester’s garbage chute remark, she lost it.
“Oh, sorry about that,” she said between giggles. “Maybe the library’s a bit distressed because of all the change. The murder, the crow… didn’t Jet help you out?”
“I have no idea where he went,” I said. “Hope he didn’t get lost.” That was all I needed—to lose my familiar before I even started.
“He’ll be fine,” she said. “He has wings. That’s an advantage on the rest of us.”
I bit into my muffin and sighed happily as the sweet taste filled my mouth. It was probably unhealthy, but I’d had a stressful week—and morning—so I figured I deserved it.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I asked, walking with her through the archives.
“You’ll be shadowing Aunt Adelaide,” she said. “Fair warning: she’s in a mood today, since my dad invited himself over for dinner tonight.”
“Oh, right, she said yesterday,” I said. “Er, when you say she’s in a mood, do you mean she’s about to start throwing books at the late fee guy?”
“Oh, she doesn’t reach Cass levels, but my sister got that temper from somewhere. Don’t worry, she won’t take it out on you.”
It was with some trepidation that I walked to meet Aunt Adelaide at the front desk, but she gave me her usual smile. She wore more make-up than she had yesterday and her auburn hair looked shinier than usual. “How was it?”
“Not too bad,” I said. “Aunt Candace seems unimpressed with the magical testing system.”
“Oh, she gave you her speech.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s not wrong on some of it, but the academy can’t go around handing out wands without checking basic knowledge first. You just have to pass the one theory exam before you get yours, so it won’t be long before you can join proper classes.”
I nodded. “And—biblio-witchery?”
“I’m having a book made up for you,” she said. “Your Biblio-Witch Inventory contains the magic of the library itself, so it’s likely to take a few more days. Estelle, can you check the returns?” she called. “Wouldn’t want to send you to the Dimensional Studies section again, Rory.”
I’d almost take that one over the ball pit.
For the rest of the morning, I returned books to shelves and occasionally helped Estelle track down an obscure title in one of the library’s dark corners. When a satyr required a volume from the Magical Creatures Division, I made my way up to the second floor alone for the first time since my misadventures in the Dimensional Studies Section.
The Magical Creatures Division lay behind one of the closed doors at the back. Rustling, clicking and squeaking noises came from within, and a sign said, ‘Staff Only Beyond This Point. Watch out for the Chimera.’
Hmm. Maybe I should have brought backup. I pushed the door open and almost collided with Cass coming the other way, a book tucked under her arm.
“Oh, sorry,” I said.
“Don’t you ever look before walking?” she snapped, stepping around me.
“What’re you doing in here?”
“None of your business.” She walked away, still holding the book tightly. Really. I remembered what Estelle had said about her keeping a new pet in here, but beyond the door lay a room filled with yet more shelves, and thankfully not a chimera in sight. Some of the books had fur or teeth, though, while others were locked in cages. At least four sealed doors at the back were marked with X symbols. I quickly found the book I needed and hurried out of there.
When Aunt Adelaide let me leave for lunch, I went out get some air. Maybe I’d walk to the bakery again… that was in danger of becoming a habit. The library wasn’t stuffy, but I had a whole town to explore outside.
I crossed the square and walked down the road towards the coast. Even from behind the clock tower, the library’s magnificent form loomed above the rest of the town. I walked along the seafront, enjoying the feel of the breeze in my hair—until I saw a male figure with a scythe strapped to his back reflected in the window of the shop on my left.
The Reaper was right behind me and I hadn’t even noticed. How did he walk that quietly? Must be a perk of being the angel of death. Xavier didn’t look like the Grim Reaper. He wasn’t even wearing a coat, just a plain black T-shirt and jeans that made his hair look even more golden than usual.
I turned to look at him. “You’re on your way to collect another body?”
“Not at the moment, no,” said Xavier. “Were you on your way to the beach?”
“Just walking. You’re not here to claim my soul?”
He caught up, his steps swift and his eyes a startling aquamarine. “If I said yes, would it make you less afraid of me?”
“I’m not afraid.” A blatant lie. But come on, he was carrying a scythe in broad daylight. More than a few people stepped aside as we walked past.
“Have you tried the ice cream?” He indicated a shop on my right. “It’s the best in the region.”
Ice cream. The Reaper was talking to me about ice cream. “No, it’s freezing enough as it is. How do you not catch your death of cold without a coat? Is it some kind of Grim Reaper thing?”
“My mentor is the one who’s known as the Grim Reaper. I’m more of a Mildly Annoyed Reaper.”
“Mildly annoyed… why? Because of Duncan’s missing soul?” Wait, why was I even bringing that up?
“That’s part of it,” he said. “My boss gave me a chewing-out over the situation even though he knows full well that the library isn’t exactly… predictable.”
“What, you think the library stole his soul?”
“Oh, no. I meant weird things happen there. I heard you and your cousin were investigating?”
Ah. So that’s why he wanted to speak to me. He wanted his missing soul back.
“We hit a dead end,” I admitted. “Estelle and I went to see the last person who checked out the book—Alice, from the familiar shop—and she told us she loaned it to the curse-breaker last week to help him with a client. But he refused to tell us who it was.”
“Oh, he would,” said Xavier. “Not a fan of the library, he isn’t.”
“I worked that much out,” I said. “So it’s not common for a soul to go missing through a curse?”
“No, it’s rare,” he said. “I’ve been asking around myself, but I haven’t found any leads. I sometimes provide evidence to Edwin if the souls I help move on remember how they died, but the problem this time is that the soul isn’t there to begin with.”
“I can see why that’d be an issue.” The chill breeze from the coast stirred my hair and I shivered. On the beach, the sand looked clean, unlike most English beaches I’d been to, but the clouds gathering overhead promised rain later.
“Not really the weather to go paddling in the sea,” he commented. “Another time, maybe.”
“Does the Reaper go paddling in the sea?” I asked.
“Sure.” He grinned. “I have to go. I’ll see you around, Rory.”
And he was gone scythe and all. He walked at such a fast pace, I’d have serious trouble keeping up with him. Also, I didn’t remember telling him to call me Rory.
Books, I could read. People were trickier. Had he been chatting me up, or was he was just being friendly? Or trying to find out what I knew about the missing soul? I’d had a couple of boyfriends while I’d been at university, but I’d had no social life the last three years. Laney had tried to set me up with her brother, which had been a disaster, but otherwise, I’d been alone. And to be honest, I hadn’t missed the stress of the dating game, with its million unspoken rules and constant misunderstandings. The odds of two people liking each other at the same time seemed so low, it had always baffled me how anyone found a partner at all, but most people I knew seemed to manage it.
Still, he’d been friendly. And not at all grim. Paddling in the sea indeed. The mental image of
him standing in the water with his scythe made me grin. Definitely not the time to be daydreaming, Rory. Time to go back to the library.
I popped into the bakery on the way past. Once again, Zee stood behind the counter, which contained even more cards and bouquets of flowers than before. Either Duncan had been incredibly popular, or it was just that everyone knew and liked Zee.
“Hey,” I said to her.
She gave me a strained smile. “Hey… Aurora?”
“Call me Rory,” I said. “I’ll take one of those sandwiches and a box of those cookies.”
“Done. I wondered if I could ask a favour?” Zee said, packing cookies into a box. “There’s a book I wanted to get from the library, but I haven’t had time—without Duncan, I’m run off my feet until I find a new assistant. It’s called Cooking up a Storm.”
“Oh, sure,” I said. “That’s no problem.”
She handed me the bag of goodies. “Thanks for coming over yesterday. I know you’re new in town and didn’t know Duncan, but he’d appreciate it.”
“Ah, no worries.” Guilt squirmed inside me. We’d made zero progress on finding out what’d cursed him, and while that wasn’t my job, I couldn’t help feeling I could have done more to help out.
When I got back to the library, I found Aunt Candace at the front desk, looking bored. “You’re back. And you brought cookies.”
“Yep.” I offered her the bag and she took one. “Zee asked me to fetch a copy of Cooking up a Storm.”
I pulled out the master list and scanned it, but I didn’t see that particular title. “It’s not here.”
“Third floor,” Aunt Candace said. “No—second. I think.”
I put the bag of cookies down on the desk. “Never mind. I’ll ask Aunt Adelaide.”
“I wouldn’t,” she said. “She’s cleaning. With magic.” She shuddered. “The entire kitchen will be glowing by the time Elliot gets here.”
“Oh. Where’s Estelle?”
“Trying to rein her in. Unless you want a bath in a cleaning spell, Rory, I’d suggest you avoid that area for a bit.”
“Noted.” Okay, I could find the book by myself. The list told me magical cookbooks were on the ground floor, which I knew pretty well by this point. How hard could it be?