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The customer, a human woman with a shawl draped over one shoulder, looked taken aback by Hali’s effusiveness. “Oh, um. I was just looking for a new historical fiction, maybe. Something set in the glamorous Drakondale court, if you have it.”
Hali’s face fell, just a touch. “Well, Drakondale court intrigue is a popular genre, to be sure, but it’s also a rather overdone one, don’t you think? Might I interest you instead in a volume from the Age of Sundering? Or perhaps a romance between a demon and the human inquisitor meant to exorcise him? It’s positively gruesome. Just the thing to make a rainy afternoon fly by, I assure you.” She held up the book in question. “Or there’s this lovely collection of essays on funerary rites throughout the ages, if that’s more to your taste.”
The customer’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “I . . . I think I’ll just browse, thanks.”
“Of course, of course. Take your time, and if you have any questions about a book, do not hesitate to ask. I know the entire inventory of Folio & Fancy by heart, and I’m always happy to play matchmaker.” With that, Hali returned to the box of newly-acquired Bellerose books and began to sort through them, muttering to herself about the sorry state of the world when people didn’t appreciate a good romantic account of demonic possession.
“Sorry, did you say something about the Age of Sundering?”
Hali’s head lifted, and she imagined, if she had pointier ears like some of the more angular races of the Heart Realms, they might be perking. A handsome Emberforged elf had entered the shop, his golden eyes glowing like banked coals, and Hali’s heart did that irritating fluttery thing. He was tall, his skin a lustrous dark olive-gray carved with gleaming ember-hued runes on his forearms, and there was a casual elegance to the way he moved, like a predator who was in no rush, knowing his prey would come to him in due time. He didn’t so much as glance at the other patrons as he made his way to the counter, but Hali forced herself to shake the stars from her eyes and greet him with a professional smile.
“Indeed I did. A fellow enthusiast?”
“You could say as much.” He smiled in a way that carved two dimples at either side of the self-effacing grin. “I’m looking for books on the history of the primordials,” he said. “And any tomes you might have on the artifacts they left behind.”
Hali’s heart raced, but she tried to quiet it, knowing damned well she was staring. “An excellent choice. The primordials were fascinating beings, and their relics are said to be incredibly powerful. Are you looking for something more general, or do you have a specific artifact in mind?”
“I’ll take anything you have on the subject. I’m eager to learn all I can.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place.” Hali suddenly found herself wishing she’d done more with her hair this morning than throw it in a sloppy bun on top of her head—a bun that was currently threatening to topple one way or the other if she moved too fast. “Perhaps you’d be interested in a translation of the Codex of Kalthar? It was supposedly a primordial tome detailing the creation of the world. Or so the scholars believe, anyway. It’s a bit dense, but if you have at least some familiarity with the Ignan language, it should be right up your alley.”
She set the book on the counter, and when she looked up, she found the man studying her with a curious expression, as if he were trying to decide something. “Perfect. I’ll take it. To start with.”
Hali’s breath caught in her throat. She’d never actually expected to sell the book; it was more of a prop for when customers asked about the kind of wares she carried. “A-are you sure? It’s quite expensive.”
“I’m sure.” He reached into the pouch at his hip and withdrew a handful of crowns, the likes of which Hali had never seen outside of the royal treasury. “Will this be enough?”
Hali’s eyes widened. “Oh, my. Yes, that should do just fine.” She plucked the book from the counter and hastily rang up the sale, her hands trembling with excitement. “I’m sure you’ll find it an excellent addition to your collection. You have a firm grasp of the subject matter already, I take it?”
“A bit here and there,” he said, in an infuriatingly, charmingly casual way. “But I’m always looking to learn more. So if you’ve anything else . . .”
Hali bit back a thousand questions. Who was he? What did he plan to do with this knowledge? How had he come to be so well-versed in the arcane without her having heard of him before? But she knew better than to pester a customer. “Well, if you have any questions about the text, or if there’s a particular topic you’re looking to explore further, it’d be my pleasure to try and assist. I might be able to order something in for you, if I don’t have it in stock.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He picked up the book and tucked it into his satchel. “Thank you for your help . . . ?”
“Halizanth Brightminer, at your service. And who do I have the pleasure of assisting today?”
He offered her a small smile, and for a brief, dangerous moment, Hali almost wished she could be on the receiving end of it more often. “I’m Osric. Osric Emberhearth.”
Hali’s heart soared, and she offered him a dazzling smile that she hoped looked effortless, rather than the result of several years of practice in the mirror with the assistance of her favorite romantic daydreams. “Osric. A pleasure indeed.” She made a great show of fumbling for the quill and ink to record his purchase in the logbook, then straightened, her smile reappearing. “I don’t mean to pry, but you seem to have a great deal of knowledge on the subject already. Is it a personal interest, or are you perhaps . . . studying the subject professionally?”
There. A casual question, just as Sooty had suggested. Though she congratulated herself on the graceful way she’d phrased it, rather than blurting out the words, “Tell me everything about yourself, mysterious Osric!”
But if Osric was taken aback by her question, he didn’t show it. He merely gestured toward the stacks of books lining the walls. “This place is a treasure trove for someone of my interests. The exact sort of shop one might seek out when . . . conducting research.”
Hali’s mouth fell open, unsure whether to be flattered or offended. She’d like to think that if there were some kind of major research project being conducted into the primordials, she would have heard about it—from her friend Professor Thornsley, if no one else. But then, she supposed, the whole point of secret research was that it was supposed to be a secret. She made a mental note to ask Sooty if there had been any unusual requests for books on the subject.
Perhaps he was a rival academic to Professor Thornsley. The dramatic possibilities were endless!
Before she could respond, Sooty appeared at Osric’s side. “The books you’re seeking are right this way, sir. The shelf on the far wall, third from the top. It’s labeled ‘Primordials and Their Artifacts.’ You might find something to pique your curiosity there.”
Osric’s face lit up, and he offered a grateful smile to Sooty. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to take a look.”
Hali panicked. But she’d been enjoying speaking with the man! “Sooty?—”
And then he was gone, leaving Hali alone at the counter, her heart pounding and her head swimming. She watched him as he loped through the stacks, and for a moment, it almost looked as if the air around him was shimmering, like the heat rising from the desert sands.
Sooty shot Hali an exacting look. “Don’t you have new acquisitions to price?”
