Page 3 of Entranced By the Basilisks

Any disruption to the running of it will cause ripples in scheduling for weeks.

I have the authority to do it, but it chafes against the purpose of what we do and sets a precedent I don’t want. This building is supposed to function as a library, not an event hall.

But we need the donations from the Owens and the crowd they bring in. The witch family isn’t an old one, but they are well connected.

“Can it be done?” I ask.

Agnes sniffs. She’s a formidable woman who has earned every single silver-threaded hair on her head. Her skills and fortitude are why the building runs as well as it does.

“Yes, with enough notice,” she says.

“Then schedule it.”

And she likes me not at all. Which is fine. I’ll be the first to admit I’m not likable. There is too much to do and not enough time in the day for the social pleasantries required to smooth out my instructions. Social pleasantries have never done much for me anyway.

“There’s another thing,” Agnes says, interrupting my attempt to get back to work. Her face is pinched. This can’t be good.

* * *

“How could this happen?”My voice is measured, but the outrage bleeds through anyway. Not at Agnes. Never at Agnes. I can only imagine how much worse the situation would be without her.

The large crate before us is littered with dents detailing its journey.

“We weren’t informed of the scholar’s intention to send us anything. The only communication we have is him demanding that he needs the books not being added to the Archive restored and sent back.”

Agnes may be human, but she’s privy to the world of the supernatural. She wouldn’t be able to manage the building as well as she does if she wasn’t.

“And he didn’t check tracking numbers?”

Agnes snorts. “He did when I told him that we didn’t receive any deliveries from him. Which then led him on a merry chase with the delivery company before they located it.”

Lost in transit. Just what I needed to deal with today.

Agnes fidgets. “He says he needs the books restored, cataloged, and sent back by the end of the week.”

My eyes widen at the crate, there’s no telling how many books that is.

The gall of this man. “Impossible.”

Agnes nods. “That’s what I said. So, he bartered down to two books.”

I stop the shake of my head. Two books may be possible.

“Do we know their condition?”

Agnes sighs in annoyance. “He said the repairs should be minimal, but also said they aren’t usable in their current state…”

I purse my lips. So, he’s lying.

Agnes continues. “If Emilia wasn’t available for this kind of work now, I’d tell him no.”

But Ms. Emilia Rivera is available for the kind of work involving books of magical origin since she’s now privy to our world. Something about a run-in with the trouble Ms. Starling had been dealing with. The details don’t matter. What matters is that books from the world hidden from humans can be restored in-house now.

“I will ask her,” I say.

Agnes raises her brows.

“It’s only right. This would upset her current schedule,” I say.

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