He reached across her and picked up one of the books he'd found on his travels.
"Here," he said handing it to her. "Just try a simple protection enchantment on it."
"What is it?" she asked as she caressed the leather cover. "The title, I mean."
He took it from her and read the spine. "A Magical History of Shelwin Village. It's handwritten. Looks like different people added to it over the generations."
He handed it back to her.
She turned back to the desk, felt her way to her stool, and sat down upon it. She laid the book open on the desktop. Alarick moved to stand behind her. Elissa sat perfectly still for a long moment, and Alarick feared she would not try. He held his breath. Slowly she reached forward and felt for the vials of hair.
"They're where you left them," Alarick said, understanding what she was seeking. "A little to your left."
He clapped once when her hand closed around the vial of her own hair. "That one's yours. Mine is to the left of yours."
"One at a time," she whispered.
She uncapped the vial and held it in her left hand. Using her right, she felt for the center crease of the book and aligned her left hand over her right, marking her place.
"Tell me when some of the hair gets into the spine," she instructed Alarick.
"All right," he said, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Gently she tipped the vial and gave it a little shake.
"You need to tip it further," Alarick said.
Elissa tried again.
"A little further," he said.
"I don't want to spill it."
"You won't. Just turn your wrist so that it's parallel to the book and give a gentle shake."
She did as instructed.
"There," he said. "Some is now in the book. Well done."
"Don't say that until I accomplish the enchantment without sealing your mouth shut," she said.
She picked up her wand from where she'd laid it next to the book and hovered it over the pages. "Cosigno," she said, tapping the book once. She shut the book and clasped her hands upon it as though in prayer.
"May I?" Alarick asked, gently pushing her hands away and picking up the book. She left her hands on the desk and did not turn to face him. Even though she couldn't see him, he understood she didn't want to face potential failure.
He took a deep breath and attempted to open the book. It would not open for him.
Alarick laughed, long and loud.
"You did it," he said. "It won't open for me."
"You're not lying to spare my feelings?" she asked.
"Would sparing your feelings be at all in character for me?" he drawled. "Don't believe me? Try giving me access, now."
Elissa repeated the process with the vial of Alarick's hair. It was still a slow, laborious process, but Alarick knew she'd get faster as she learned to trust herself and work around her new limitations.
When she handed the sealed book to him, it opened for him. He didn't say anything, but merely took her hands and placed them around either side of the open book.
"It's open," she whispered, wonder in her voice.
"Of course it is," he said.
She surprised him, however, when instead of smiling or cheering, she laid her head down on the desk and wept.
"Shh," he said, rubbing her back in slow circles. "You did it. That's not something to cry about."
"I didn't think it was possible," she said sitting up and wiping her eyes.
"Practice will make perfect. And I think we can find a way to differentiate the vials for you. We can rough one of them up in some way, or affix something lumpy to one of them so you can tell them apart by touch. You won't need me to help you after a while."
She reached up and touched his hand where it rested on her shoulder.
"Thank you," she said simply.
"You're welcome, Miss Stone. You're welcome," he said, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it.
"Now," he said, pulling his hand away from the sudden intimacy. "May I read to you?"
She thought for a moment and Alarick saw the warring emotions on her face. Part of her badly wanted to hear the music of words, but the other part was afraid to let books back into her life because she would always have to depend on someone else to give her that joy. Finally love won, as he'd desperately hoped it would.
"Please," she whispered.
He guided her over to one of the couches and settled her there. Then he went and chose a book from the shelves and returned, seating himself on the low coffee table in front of her.
"What are we reading?" she asked.
"I thought we'd try something different. This is The Gloomy Dragon, by Broderick Foster. I think it's a fairy tale of some sort. Shall we?"
"Of course," Elissa said, leaning back on the sofa.
Alarick began to read. "In a kingdom beyond the farthest hill lived a dragon who had no reason to be happy. Or so he thought…"
As he took a breath to continue, he looked up at Elissa. She was smiling.
11
Alarick and Elissa established a routine after that day. He spent the mornings taking care of the Keep and working with Margaret to devise better protections for the castle. He continued to peregrinate, bringing himself to the brink of physical exhaustion in his determination to master the skill as fast as possible. He was now able to peregrinate to general locations like villages or cities. Honing in on specific points within those locations was proving more difficult. Margaret cautioned him to slow down lest he kill himself, but her words echoed into the empty air left behind as Alarick peregrinated hither and yon.
In the afternoons, he worked with Elissa in her scriptorium. After several days spent practicing basic spells, she was ready to try drawing. Alarick helped her experiment with the new tools he'd had made for her.
She did best with a wire grid placed over the page where the drawing should go. Her ability to visualize an image sliced up into sections amazed him. As long as Elissa knew what she wanted to draw, she had no trouble dividing it into four, eight, or even sixteen pieces in her mind's eye. She could then translate the mental image to the pieces of the grid, filling in each section with a piece of the image.
It wasn't perfect, of course, which was why they practiced on blank paper for weeks before moving on to actual books. She had some trouble with the size conversions at first, drawing things far too big or small for the grid sections, but she quickly adjusted. It also took her a while to move from ink drawings to painting with color. She preferred using varying paint thicknesses so she could differentiate colors by touch. Her progress was impressive.
Alarick had all of her paint bottles coated with leather and studded so she could feel the different colors. It took her a week to memorize how many studs corresponded to each color, but once she had it down, she was painting with freedom again.
He helped her by reading books to her so she would know what to draw inside of each. He also supervised her painting, warning her when it was time to change color or brush size.
She was quickly regaining her Book Mesmer skills. The one skill missing was the Aperire Foraminis spell. It required the spell caster to see the target and aim correctly to cast the target into the other dimension. Since she couldn't do it, she was loath to draw anything that might become dangerous if she lost control over it. As a result, she worried that the protections on the books were not as strong as they could be.
"Can I learn Aperire Foraminis?" Alarick asked one day when Elissa expressed frustration over her need to draw a bear and her fear that it would escape her control and maul someone.
She thought for a moment. "Possibly. My father knew it, and he was not a Book Mesmer, so I know it's not unique to me. I suppose it's possible you could learn. Let me draw something innocuous for you to practice with."
She laid the 4x4 grid over a fresh piece of paper and tapped her lips with the brush while she considered what to draw. Alarick tried not to focus on her lips as she d
id so. Instead, he opted to prowl the library while she drew, the better to keep his focus elsewhere.
Finally, she began to paint, sketching out a small rabbit. She colored it brown and added a pink nose so realistic that, even on paper, Alarick could swear he saw it twitching. Finished, she removed the grid and tapped the paper with her wand, muttering "Vimitae" as she did so.
The rabbit hopped off the page and onto the desk. It nosed Elissa's hand, making her laugh. She reached over and petted it.
"Okay. It'll stay alive for a few hours and then it will return to the page if you haven't managed to send it away," she said.
"I hate to send anything that cuddly into a dimension where it will die," Alarick said as he picked up the rabbit and placed it on the floor, a bit embarrassed at having feelings for the creature.
"As long as the drawing is here, I can make him come alive at any time. Remember, he isn't real. He's only a drawing, really."
"Okay. What do I do?" he asked, brandishing his wand at the rabbit.
"My father taught me that you have to want to create the portal. You must believe in the other dimension. If you don't believe such a place exists, you'll never succeed. Simply saying the words isn't enough. That was the biggest hurdle for me, as I recall. The absolute belief that must accompany the spell."
Alarick pointed his wand at the rabbit and said, "Aperire Foraminis." The rabbit looked at him quizzically, but nothing else happened.
"Nothing," Alarick said.
"Did you see anything around the rabbit change? Did the floor blur or look fuzzy?" Elissa asked.
"No."
"Try again."
Alarick did so and this time he thought he saw the floor blur for a just a second.
"Could have been wishful thinking," he muttered.
"I think it took me about four months before I mastered it," Elissa said.
That wasn't encouraging. "Maybe if you gave me something more dangerous? Something to give me motivation?"
"And what happens if you fail?" she asked. "We can't very well have Death or a man-eating alligator running around the castle for a few hours until its life wears off. Until you master it, the creatures stay small and cute," Elissa said.
Alarick tried again and again. He failed every time. By the time the rabbit returned to its piece of paper, he thought he'd managed to create a tiny hole in the floor, but he wasn't at all certain it was a portal. It could have been a path to the basement for all he knew.
Exhausted, he sank onto the nearest sofa and dropped his head into his hands, massaging his temples.
"Where are you?" Elissa called from her stool in the scriptorium.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," he said, realizing he'd left her stranded. "I'll come get you."
"No, wait. Tell me where you are," she said.
"I'm on the sofa nearest the scriptorium. The red one," he clarified. There were two sofas close to the scriptorium, but only one was red. She would remember which was which.
"I'm coming to you," she said.
She slid off the stool and began a slow, shuffling progress toward him. Arms outstretched, she walked, groping for obstacles in her path. Alarick slid to the edge of the sofa, ready to leap up and catch her if she stumbled. She found the sofa's arm with her hands and felt her way down to the cushions. She followed her hands down and sat next to Alarick.
"There," she said triumphantly.
"I think we can make that easier," Alarick said. "I'll have the craftsmen make you a cane you can use to feel for obstacles. That might help you walk with more confidence."
"Thank you," she said. "I'm aware that I look like some sort of hunchbacked crone groping my way over everything. A bit more dignity would be nice."
"Do you want to read today?" he asked.
"Absolutely, if you're up to it. You've worked hard today."
"Reading is easy. I'd be happy to read you a few s. Let me get our book."
He stood and went to the shelves, retrieving the book of legends and fairy tales they'd been reading. They were currently working their way through the original tales of Robin Hood. Alarick resumed his seat next to Elissa and began to read.
She curled her feet underneath her and, much to his surprise, leaned her head upon his shoulder. He stiffened automatically.
"I'm sorry," she said, leaning away from him again.
"No," he said huskily. "It's fine."
As she leaned back toward him, he raised his arm so that she could snuggle under it. He draped his arm across her shoulders and rested his hand on her arm. His free hand held the book and turned the pages.
He read for a while, the story helping him overcome his self-consciousness at this new intimacy between them. After three s he stopped, peering down at Elissa.
"Why did you stop? Are you tired?" she asked.
"No, but I thought you might have fallen asleep."
"I'm awake. But since you stopped reading, may I ask you something?"
"Certainly," Alarick said, closing the book and placing it on the table in front of him.
"May I touch you?"
"Excuse me?" he asked, stunned.
He pulled away from Elissa a bit, so she was forced to sit up. He turned to face her. Her cheeks were flushed.
"Your face. May I touch your face? It's just—I'm having trouble remembering your face and I've found that if I touch things, I can better remember what they look like. I'm sorry. It's odd and intrusive of me to ask," she trailed off.
"No, no. It's not odd. I didn't realize—" he stammered.
He took a deep breath and tried again.
"Of course you may touch me," he said.
He took her hands in his and guided them up to his cheeks. Her hands were cool and felt wonderful on his face, which was warm with embarrassment. At first, she didn't move her hands but merely cupped his cheeks in her palms. Slowly, though, she leaned forward and began to stroke his cheekbones with her thumbs. Alarick closed his eyes at the gentleness of her touch and leaned into her hands.
Elissa moved her thumbs up to his eyebrows and then gently caressed the shape of his eyelids, eventually tracing soft lines down the slope of his nose. Gentle fingertips stroked his brow and slid down, caressing his jaw line and meeting on his chin. Her fingers drifted up to his lips, tracing the shape of the top and then the bottom lip. Alarick's lips parted at her touch, and he tipped his head to follow the direction of her caress, willing her to continue.
His face had drifted so close to hers that he could feel her breath on his cheek. Her hands continued to float over his face, ever so gently, growing more familiar and lingering here and there as she attempted to convert the planes of his face to memory. He fought the urge to touch her in return, keeping his hands clenched on his thighs.
She moved to his hair, first feeling the ends where they brushed his shoulders and then running her fingers through its length and along his neck.
"Elissa," he whispered, not sure what he intended to say. Stop? Continue? Either seemed impossible.
He was saved from having to decide when she abruptly withdrew her hands.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to linger. That just makes it more awkward."
He cleared his throat, which was suddenly dry. "I hope it was helpful," he said, straightening away from her.
"It was, thank you. I can better remember you now. I'd almost forgotten about that crease between your eyebrows and the way your lower lip quirks up."
He was amazed at the level of detail she'd managed to capture. More, that she'd paid so much attention to him while she could still see that those little details had etched themselves in her memory and needed only a touch to resurface.
They said nothing for a few moments. A knock on the library door broke their reveries.
Alarick got up and went to open the door. Master Lucas was on the other side.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but there's a letter for you from Master Baines which requires your immediate attention. Marius sent it to both of us to
ensure at least one of us would read it today."
John held the envelope out to Alarick who took it and cracked the seal. Master Lucas retreated quietly down the stairs while Alarick read silently.
Alarick, it began.
I hope this finds you well and that Miss Stone is feeling better, as well. It is need of her unique ability that forces me to write to you. I do not know how far, if at all, she has progressed in dealing with her blindness. (Although knowing you, I'm certain you're pushing her to ridiculous lengths and making an ass of yourself to help her.) Universe willing, she can see by now, but I suspect you would have told me if that was the case.
At any rate, we recently raided a Ministry compound here in Orange, France, in what was the Université Magique Français. (I realize I was supposed to return to Spain after leaving you, but intelligence presented us with this chance and we had to take it.) Aside from the Ministry casualties, which were satisfyingly high, we uncovered a spectacular library, full of confiscated books and materials from all over Europe. There are even some Ministry books and documents here and we would dearly love to keep the Ministry from reacquiring them. We have never found a trove like this before and its value to the magical population is immeasurable.
So, my friend, I write to you in the hope that you have, indeed, managed to bully your Book Mesmer back to health and ability. We need her to come work her magic on these tomes. While we can keep the library guarded for the time being, we cannot do so indefinitely, and we do not want to risk transporting the books unprotected. The Ministry would surely retake at least some of them.
I realize I am likely asking the impossible. My pessimistic nature tells me that Miss Stone is not well enough to perform this task and my knowledge of you tells me that even if she is, there is no way in Hell you would allow her to make such an arduous and dangerous trip.
However, on the off chance I am wrong in either case, I ask for your help.
Marius
Library of Absolution Page 14