Page 3 of The Journal of a Thousand Years
He touched the brim of his hat in farewell. “I look forward to your visit.” He sauntered out of the shop.
Once the door closed behind him, Petra uncrossed her arms and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, lord. What am I going to do?”
“Call on him, of course,” Daisy said. “I take it you two…”
“Kissed?” I offered.
Petra lowered her hands and slumped against the counter. “It went a little further than kissing last night.”
I gasped. “Were you drunk again?”
“No,” she said on a groan. “I wish I was, but there’s no excuse. I can’t stay away from him, even though I tell myself I should.”
“Why should you?” Daisy asked. “Perhaps you’re meant to be together.”
“I should stay away because we’re wrong for each other. Not only are we very different people, but our families would also never approve. You’re right, Daisy. There are similarities toRomeo and Julietabout our story, and we all know that didn’t end well.”
“Petra,” I chided. “Huon clearly adores you, and you’re obviously a good influence on him. Why not explore where a relationship with him will lead? Perhaps your families will surprise you. Perhaps you’ll surprise yourself.”
She groaned again. “Why are relationships so difficult? They shouldn’t be. They should be easy. I like things to be easy.”
Daisy slumped against the counter, too, with another heartfelt sigh. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
It wasdifficult to concentrate on work the following day. Gabe visited the Glass Library and although he wasn’t there specifically to see me, I was all too aware of his presence. Whenever I passed the first-floor nook where he sat in an armchair, reading, I couldn’t help flicking a glance his way. I was drawn to him. I was no more capable ofnotstaring as a bee was of not buzzing around a blossom.
As if Gabe was aware of me, too, he looked up whenever I passed. He smiled. I smiled back.
Alex sat opposite Gabe but did not look up from his book except to write notes on a notepad balanced on his knee. He was engrossed in their research. The two men were studying texts in an attempt to learn something about Gabe’s magical ability. He could alter time by slowing it down or speeding it up, but only to save his own life or that of someone he cared about, and it wasn’t something he could control. Unlike magicians who used spells, Gabe’s magic simply activated when required. He’d always thought himself artless until he went to war and found his life in danger almost every day. His mother’s powerful watchmaker’s magic had become mutated within him as the result of an incident she’d experienced while pregnant.
Yet despite her power and her magical connections, she couldn’t give Gabe the answers he sought. He hoped ancient texts could. He and Alex were searching the library’s books, scrolls and other documents for any reference to mutated magic similar to his.
It was an area the military had an interest in, too. Mr. Jakes from Military Intelligence had come to the Glass Library a few months ago in search of relevant texts. He’d since claimed to have no interest in Gabe anymore, but some of us believed he was behind the recent kidnapping attempts.
Alex was always with Gabe nowadays, acting as bodyguard wherever his friend went. Gabe’s second bodyguard, his father’s cousin Willie, was usually with them, but she was absent this time. She loathed reading anything more in-depth thanThe Daily Mirror, so had arranged to meet a friend instead. In her words, reading books from the Glass Library’s collection was “more boring than listening to a lecture about watching paint dry.” Her absence made for a peaceful morning.
I entered the stacks in search of a book requested by a patron, only to see Professor Nash emerge from the hidden door that led to his flat. He carried a leather-bound notebook in one hand. I recognized it as the book in which he was writing the rough draft of his memoir.
I nodded at it. “Are the words flowing today?”
He stared down at the notebook clutched in both hands, then folded it against his chest, as if afraid of dropping it. “Slowly, Sylvia. Very slowly.”
I watched him shuffle past, bald head bowed, his thin shoulders more stooped than usual. He seemed less cheerful of late. His smiles were wan, when he smiled at all, and there was a sense of heaviness about him that hadn’t been there months ago. I knew he missed his friend, Oscar Barratt, but I wondered if a part of him had held out hope that he’d walk through the door.Unlike the professor, Oscar hadn’t returned to England when war broke out, and instead continued to the Arabian Desert, where he met his end. I wasn’t sure of the details, but I did know that the professor missed him terribly. It seemed that writing his memoir was stirring up memories that made the pain of losing Oscar more acute.
I retrieved the book I needed from the shelves and returned to the ground floor reading nook where the patron was poring over another text at the desk. We chatted for a while about his area of interest—cotton magic. Although paper magic descended from cotton magic, I didn’t tell him I was a paper magician. Very few people knew. I wasn’t yet sure what I thought about it, and until I did, I wanted to keep it to myself.
When the patron left, I went to check on Gabe and Alex’s progress. Although their stack of books had shrunk as they completed their review and set them aside, neither had made many notes.
“No luck?” I asked, peering over Gabe’s shoulder.
“Not really,” he said. “I found one reference to a mutation, but that only came about after a carpentry magician ingested a herbal concoction over several years. He wasn’t born that way.”
He sounded so forlorn that I wanted to comfort him. I was still reluctant to show much affection toward him in front of others for fear of backlash, particularly from Willie, so I simply gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
He reached up and placed his hand over mine, tucking his fingers underneath. We exchanged small smiles that said more than either of us had yet to express in words.
I looked to Alex, but he didn’t notice. “Alex? Have you discovered anything?”
“Hmmm?” He blinked at me. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening. My mind was elsewhere.”
