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“I prefer my excitement to be of the printed variety, generally speaking.” Hali smiled, and set the stack of manuscripts on the worktable. “But it seems largely harmless, if these dragon sightings can be believed. Nary a maiden getting gobbled up or village set ablaze.”
“No, just frightful silhouettes in the sky. Perhaps there’s nothing to be afraid of.” Pippa leaned over the counter, eyeing the assorted miniature pastries Hali had set out earlier that morning by the register. “Oh, is this lavender?”
“Indeed it is. Now, what can I help you find today?”
“Oh, nothing for me, I’m afraid. Just thought I’d stop by and see how my favorite bookworm is faring.” She leaned in, her mischievous smile widening. “Any grand adventures unfolding from your pages? How about dashing suitors coming to sweep you off your feet? You simply must tell me all about it.”
Pippa was always teasing her like this, a reminder of just how much Hali was given to her flights of fancy, seeking stories behind every occurrence and epics behind every story. But this time, Pippa didn’t quite know how close to the mark she’d struck. Heat rushed to Halizanth’s cheeks, and she was suddenly very interested in straightening the papers on the worktable. “I, uh, that is to say?—”
The papers scattered as Pippa lunged forward with a delighted squeal. “Oh, by the moon and stars, there is someone, isn’t there? You have to tell me who they are! What they look like! Spill, spill, spill!”
Hesitantly, Halizanth’s gaze flicked toward the door, as if by speaking it aloud, she might summon him again. “Well, he’s, uh, he’s a scholar of sorts, or so he says. Emberforged, with the most striking golden eyes. And the way his hair catches the light?—”
“Sounds positively dreamy. Have you gone out with him? Oh, but of course you haven’t, you silly thing. You’re probably mooning over him from behind a stack of books.” Pippa’s wings shimmered with iridescent light as they fluttered behind her. “Hold on, I need to get a better look at this hunk.”
“Pippa, wait, I didn’t say he was here?—”
But Pippa was already darting past the shelves toward the front of the store, screeching at the top of her lungs. “Mysterious and handsome Emberforged scholar, where are you? I need a love charm, quick, my heart’s aflutter!”
“Shut it, Pippa, you’re scaring away the customers!” Hali chased after her, and tossed an apologetic smile toward a Skyborn who’d been perusing the travelogues, his feathers ruffling up in bewilderment at Pippa’s outburst. “I know you’re only here for the pastries, anyway.”
Pippa gasped, a scandalized look crossing her delicate features. “I’ll have you know I am a voracious reader in my own right! I just happen to have a sweet tooth, is all.”
Hali arched a dubious eyebrow. “Uh huh. And what was the last book you bought, then?”
Pippa’s eyes darted to the side, her wings fluttering sheepishly. “That’s not the point. You’re deflecting. I want to hear all about this suitor of yours.”
Hali made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “There is no suitor. Just a customer. And I swear, if you scare him off, I’ll never forgive you.”
Pippa’s laughter was like the tinkling of glass wind chimes. “I make no promises. But if he does come in while I’m here, you’ll point him out to me, won’t you? I simply must see this paragon of your heart’s desire.”
After a moment’s consideration, Hali nodded. “It’s a deal. Now, do you want another pastry or not?”
“Well, since you’re offering.” Pippa fluttered up into the air, her wings a blur of iridescent blue. “But only one. I don’t want to spoil my supper.”
Hali rolled her eyes, a fond smile tugging at her lips. “You say that every time, and yet you always manage to wrangle a second and third one out of me.”
Pippa’s only response was a mischievous giggle as she snatched the lavender scone from Hali’s outstretched hand.
Hali set back to work, focusing instead on the task at hand: restocking the dusty reference section that tended to only see movement when there was a new semester beginning at the nearby Luminara University. Heavy, expensive, and dreadfully dry almanacs and ledgers that few purchased by choice, but when they did need them, they sold for more than enough to earn their shelf space.
She’d just finished organizing a stack of oversized atlases that had come in the day before, and was in the process of reordering the tomes on the history of the Old Kingdoms and Jötuneld when something fluttered out from between the pages of one of the books.
Curious, Hali set the book she was holding to one side and plucked the paper from the ground. It was a scrap, its fresh white color incongruous with the musty yellow of the book it had escaped from, and on it were only three lines of blocky text using a Heart Realms alphabet, but organized into no language that Halizanth could make sense of at a glance. As Hali turned it over in her hands, her excitement began to build.
It looked . . . intriguing.
It looked, if she was being honest, like a code of some kind.
She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then tucked the paper into the pocket of her trousers. She had a sneaking suspicion that this was going to turn into one of those stories that found her, whether she wanted it to or not.
The tinkling bell over the door drew Hali’s attention, and she looked up, ready to greet the new customer. But the words died in her throat, and her heart gave a traitorous little leap at the sight of the ebon-haired Emberforged who stepped through the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Emberheart,” Hali said, her voice a few octaves higher than usual. “How goes the hunt for the primordial artifacts?”
His golden eyes met hers, smoldering with a fire that set embers fluttering in her chest. “I was hoping you might be able to help me find a book on the history of the Old Kingdoms. I’ve been doing some research on my own, but I fear I’ve hit a bit of a dead end.”
Hali’s heart swelled with a heady mix of fondness and excitement. The Old Kingdoms were a particular area of interest for her as well, though for different reasons. She made a vague gesture of assent, then pointed toward the back of the shop. “I believe I have just the thing. If you’ll follow me . . .”
