Page 3 of Heir of Autumn
“Well, hello to you, too, Locke.” He fluttered his lashes and twiddled his fingers in greeting. “Hello, Sylvain. And — the pixie.”
Sylvain nodded politely. Satchel grunted.
“Hand over the book, Evander,” I growled. “We came looking for it first.”
“And yet I got to it first.” He hugged the great tome closer to his chest, as if to make sure that I wouldn’t be able to pry it out of his arms. “Finders keepers and all that. Just like the Oriel of Air, remember?”
Gods, what I wouldn’t do to wipe that grin off his face. “Hand it over, or else.”
Sylvain leaned in close, muttering, but his voice still loud enough to be heard. “Lochlann, you can’t just threaten another resident of the Wispwood, student or otherwise. I read all the rules, remember?”
Evander Skink laughed, his voice musical and tittering. “Someone would need to be a threat in order to be threatening at all. I’m afraid your dear summoner here doesn’t qualify.”
“Why are you always such a pain in my ass?” I snapped. “At every turn, every step of the way, your smug face is right there waiting to — ”
“Mister Wilde,” said the dry, papery rasp of the librarian’s master. “Quiet in the library.”
Evander pressed one finger across his lips, soundlessly shushing me. A swarm of butterflies enveloped him, clothing his body in a silent flurry of fuchsia wings. Within seconds, he was gone.
I turned toward Mr. Brittle, still angry, but a little afraid, too. He stood at the end of the aisle, eyes harder and more judgmental than even the most realistic portrait of my missing father.
“Please,” he said, polite, but curt, his stare boring into my skull. “I must have silence in the library.”
I nodded. Sylvain and Satchel, who were totally innocent, nodded as well. Mr. Brittle shuffled back toward his counter, but not before throwing me one last, warning glare.
I could only describe it as withering.
2
I stared wearilyat the stack of books that towered before me, my head in my hands, my elbow on the creaky, overloaded library table. Fucking Evander Skink.
Satchel sat on an unfurled piece of parchment with his legs stretched out, tilting his head left and right, trying to make heads or tails of the scrawl of ink beneath him. The illustration could have been some sort of alien squid thing, or maybe it was a magical glyph with lots of radiating swirls.
Next to me, Sylvain was perusing his own stack of books with surprising intensity. Or maybe that shouldn’t have been so surprising, knowing what I did of how much he loved to read. His eyes scanned the pages rapidly as he scoured the books we’d gathered for anything that might pass for a spell of water-breathing.
I turned the pages in my own book, going much slower than Sylvain. Much slower than any student at the Wispwood, in fact. Hey, I was demoralized, okay? Kind of a bummer when the worst person on campus comes up and steals the most valuable thing you need right from under your nose.
I stifled a yawn and covered my mouth with my hand. I smacked my lips sleepily, distracted by the gleam to the other side of me, where a sunbeam had penetrated the library window, shining like a searchlight on the unicorn sticker affixed to the Wilde grimoire. At least there was one book that no one would ever pry away from me, not unless they wanted me to smash their teeth out with its hard cover first.
Sylvain stopped reading long enough to lift his eyes at me. He gave me a firm nod, then spread the rough hugeness of his hand across the back of mine, squeezing once, squeezing hard. I smiled back at him as he returned his focus to his research. I wished I could say that the gesture was enough to reassure and motivate me, but my disposition was still stormy and heavy.
Satchel was actually keeping very quiet as he dutifully went through his own assortment of scrolls and loose parchments. The candy trick had worked even better on him than it had on Sylvain. Sylvain, who had very kindly taken care to meticulously split the pieces of candy into smaller portions that Satchel could enjoy.
That confectioner we visited really knew what they were doing, offering a selection that catered specifically to the tastes of these two natives of the Verdance. It wasn’t my thing, exactly, as someone who preferred chocolate or fruity candy flavors, but the sweets Satchel and Sylvain got to enjoy included exotic varieties such as rose, chrysanthemum, lavender, and violet. All floral flavors, incidentally.
Satchel made a charmingly hilarious face as his chipmunk cheeks worked their way around a shard of candy. I couldn’t tell what flavor it was until his tongue flicked out to moisten his lips. Ah, purple. Violet-flavored candy it was, then.
I appreciated their support, but nowhere in the magical protection and enhancement section could we easily find a spell that would enable water-breathing. Those spells just weren’t very necessary or in demand. It was nonmagical humans who were most interested in the exploration of the ocean, not necessarily the denizens of the arcane underground.
We had no use for dredging up old shipwrecks or exploring the ocean floor, partly because we knew of the other, stranger dangers lurking in the darkest depths of the abyss. Kraken, for example, among other terrifying threats equipped with sharp teeth and twisted anatomies. Pass.
“Nothing,” I muttered, turning yet another page. “We could be here all night, and we’d still find nothing.”
Sylvain wordlessly pressed a finger against his lips, then offered me a smile, reaching for my hand again. Again, the man was as sweet as the candy he was sucking on. But again, unfortunately, the stolen touch didn’t truly do anything to lift my spirits.
And then Satchel piped up, struggling to speak with his mouth still crammed full of violet candy. “Locke? Is your unicorn sticker supposed to be all shiny and glow-y like that?”
I ruffled my hair, sighing as I picked up another book and gave him a small smile. “That’s totally normal, Satchel. They’re called holographic stickers, so they’re a little metallic and a little iridescent. You know, the way a prism casts light and makes tiny rainbows? Kind of like that.”
