Tales

The pile of books lands on my desk with a thud.

“You see, Imogen, this is an excellent deal. Twelve exquisite books, all written by elves and laced with magic.” says a man who introduced himself as Oskar and politely demanded to sell me books.

I pick one up with a white-gloved hand. “I don’t see any magic.”

“It’s there,” Oskar assures me.

I flip through the pages. The title reads Literally Everything Anyone Would Ever Need to Know About Plants in a flourishing script. Diagrams fill the pages, along with small handwriting that is only somewhat legible.

“And you want how much for them?” I ask, my gaze at Oskar skeptical.

“Six hundred,” he replies.

“Sik hundred?”

“You know how hard it is to get these?”

I sigh. “And you say these are magic?”

“Yes,” he states. “As I said, they’re elven, magic, and a good bargain!”

“For six hundred Brukrin!” I close the book and place it on the table.

But as the book closes, its magnificent scent reaches my nose. Leathery vanilla, old paper, and glue. The perfect book smell. A sign the book actually does contain a trace of magic, and that it is just being shy.

“Surely you must want them. It’s only fifty Brukin per book.” Oskar interrupts my thoughts.

My eyes scan the leather covers. Green and red and blue and brown.

They smell really good, I think. And Oskar wasn’t lying about the magic. But they’re still overpriced for something with hardly a drop of magic.

“How about two hundred?” I offer, low-balling on purpose.

“Five hundred,” Oskar responds.

“Three hundred,” I suggest.

“Four hundred,” he says, crossing his arms. I know he’s not going to go any lower.

“Deal,” I say.

Once Oskar leaves, I shelve the books. There are twelve, but they appear to all be about plants. Typical elves. I put them all in the botany section and take a seat by the counter, opening a red, leather-bound book that I had been reading when Oskar walked in.

There are eight bookstores in the capital of Yiyiroth, but I own the only magical bookshop. The hours are nine to seven, and it’s closed on holidays. The story of how I came into possession of this magnificent store is quite long, and quite uninteresting. That doesn’t matter, though, because I love my job.

Some time later, the door opens, ringing the bell attached to it. Looking up, I see a boy with dark skin and hair walk in. As soon as he steps foot in the store, I can see his eyes fill with wonder as he attempts to take it all in: the faint sparkle in the air, the tall shelves, and the incredible smell.

“Hi, I’m Imogen. Can I help you?” I ask.

“I–” the boy begins. He looks to be around twelve.

He’s cut off by one of the particularly magical books that almost flies into him. I frown at the book and snap my fingers, which commands it to find its spot back on the shelf.

“Sorry about that,” I apologize. “Most of the books here are fine, but there are a few you gotta watch out for. Now, back to my original question: can I help you?”

The boy watches the book go back into place before he answers my question.

“I’m Kanu. Do you have any good horror books?” he asks, his voice filled with the rich accent of someone who lives on the north side of the capital, which is very big.

“Yes, although I’ll admit I’m not a big fan of the genre so I can’t give many recommendations,” I say.

I stand from the counter. I need not worry about leaving, since the bookstore will keep anyone from stealing money from the register. It is, after all, alive.

Kanu follows me as I lead him up a winding staircase. When we walk through a thin hallway packed with shelves, he asks:

“Why is this the only magic bookstore in the city?”

I slightly turn my head as we keep walking. “It was built by a wizard, and he cast a spell on the building to make it come alive.”

“Does it have a name?” Kanu questions.

“I call it Tales, which is what the sign reads outside.”

“Can it talk?”

“No, but it understands us. Tales can also rearrange the layout of the bookstore. Sometimes I’ll come in after a holiday and find that Tales has decided to change everything completely.”

We continue walking through the extensive bookstore. I vaguely start to worry that Tales has moved the horror section, but I don’t recall anything else being out of the ordinary, so we keep walking.

When we are just nearing the room with the crooked shelves and window–where the horror books are–I’m asked another question.

“What about the books?” asks the boy.

“Most of them are magic, as you saw when you came in, but there are a few non-magic ones. There’s a separate section for the normal ones, if you’re interested. They’re a lot cheaper than the ones with spells on them.”

“Why are the books magic?”

“Most books are magic because a spell caster put a spell on them. You can only find them here because magic books won’t last long without a magic user or a magic building to look after them. We’re here in the horror room. Any other questions?”

“No, thank you,” Kanu says.

“Alright, I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready to check out, if you plan on purchasing a book.” I say, leaving the room.

Walking back, I run my gloved fingers along the spines of books. The smell is nothing short of spectacular. Dark wooden shelves line the walls and they are, of course, filled with books. When I get back to the counter, I open my book and begin to read, the time passing as I turn the pages.

 About an hour later, the bell attached to the door rings and a customer walks up. Another boy, who appears to be the same age as Kanu.

“May I help you?” I ask.

The boy’s eyes narrow at me.

“Where’s Kanu?” he asks, voice trying to be tough.

“I’m sorry, what?” I respond, confused.

“I said, where’s Kanu.” the boy repeats.

Something about this boy doesn’t seem right. The tone of his voice is demanding, and angry. As a member of the skinny-nerds-with-thick-glasses society, I’ve been through enough to have a good idea of what this boy wants. Unfortunately, Kanu chose this moment to purchase his books, and the second he sees the other boy, he stops dead in his tracks.

“Leave me alone, Jace.” says Kanu, expression annoyed with a hint of fear.

“Nah, I’d rather not. You made me look stupid.” says the boy, Jace.

Kanu shrugs. “It’s not my fault you didn’t know the answer to the question. Mrs. T asked you one of the easy ones.”

“You know I hate school. All I asked for was your help.”

“Do you really think that’s something I’d give you after all you’ve done to make my life miserable?”

Jace clenches his fists. “I don’t care, you still made me look stupid.

“That’s because you are,” Kanu responds in the most monotone voice I’ve ever heard.

Jace, of course, does not like that. He runs, fists first, at Kanu. Before, however, he has the chance to lunge at Kanu, I mutter magic under my breath and a shimmering wall appears between them. Jace doesn’t see the wall, though, so he runs head-first into it, stumbling back in a confused state after the air doesn’t let him through. Kanu gives me a look of confused admiration.

“You’re one of those weirdos!” Jace lashes at me, right after a long string of curses.

I cock my head. “I’m just as weird as you are.”

“Oh, no, you’re gonna eat me alive!” Jace cries.

Even though I have absolutely no intention of eating Jace alive, I say: “Yeah, I will eat you alive if you keep messing with Kanu. Leave him alone and get out of my store.”

Jace looks from Kanu to me.

“Now!” I firmly state.

Jace turns around and books it. At least he tries to, until he gets hit by a book in the process of booking it. I cringe at the impact, knowing there was nothing I could have done to stop it. Magical books have a mind of their own, and while I am able to tell them what to do, there is only so much I can do to stop a strong-willed book from wandering....

From wandering right into Jace’s back, right by his right shoulder blade.

A groan escapes Jace as the air is knocked out of him. He crumples to the floor. Why do the strong-willed books have to be the heavier ones?

As if coming to retrieve a reward, the book floats up to me. I glare at it, then snatch it out of the air. Instantly weighed down by approximately one thousand three hundred pages bound in blue-dyed leather, I hardly have enough time to set the book on the table before I drop it.

Jace sits up as I place down the book, staring at me.

“Why do you nerds have to be so weird?” asks he, voice bitter. “And what’s with the floating books?”

“It’s a magic bookshop, that’s kinda the whole thing,” I say. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’ll live, just as long as you don’t eat me,” he replies, massaging where the book hit him. His tone forms a sarcastic barrier, blocking his actual thoughts. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t believe the words he speaks, about me eating him and his well-being, as his face is contorted in pain.

“I can heal you.” I offer without thinking.

Jace stands, wincing from the pain and clutching his right arm close to his chest. His eyes flicker to Kanu, and then to me. Unsurprisingly, he glares at both of us, but his eyes have a trace of hope.

“Really?” he asks.

“If you promise to leave Kanu alone. For good.” I nod.

Sighing, Jace agrees in the same snarky tone that attempts to mask his emotion. “Fine. Make it quick. I’ve got places to be, you rotten witch.”

Jace walks over to me and stands still, head down. While he’s wearing a shirt that covers his whole back, I have an idea of where the bruise is starting to form.

Careful not to hurt anything, I place my hand where the book hit Jace’s back. My eyes close in concentration, and I start to whisper magic. I’m not skilled in the art, but I have enough knowledge on the subject to get a person in and out of trouble. I am, after all, the caretaker of Tales, the finest bookstore in all of Yiyiroth.

After some time passes–it’s hard to say how much–my eyes open. The faint warm yellow glow that traced itself along my fingertips and onto Jace’s back begins to recede. Jace cautiously tries out his right arm, and a small smile forms on his face when he doesn’t collapse in the pain.

“Thank you,” he says as if he’s out of breath. After a brief second of eye contact, he runs out of the store.

Kanu turns to me.

“Why did you heal him,” he asks.

“You saw the way he collapsed. He was hurt, bad.” I reply.

Kanu looks at the floor. “I guess so. I still don’t like him, though.”

“Nor do I. But I want to help people when I can.”

“Fair,” Kanu sighs. “Jace is really annoying, I’ll survive his taunts. Sometimes he threatens to beat me up, but he’s never actually done it. I think he’s afraid to get caught.”

“Do you want to buy that book?” I change the subject once I remember that Kanu is holding a book, probably one he wants to purchase.

“Yeah,” Kanu hands me the book.

I inspect it. The cover is as dark as the night with silver calligraphy displaying the title: Moonlit Dreams. It’s one of the few horror books I’ve actually read, and the only reason why I read it is because it’s thick with irony, starting with the title. I love a good book filled to the brim with irony.

“This is a good book,” I say as I check the price past-Imogen wrote on the inside. “That’ll be six Brukrin.”

Kanu pulls the six dented coins out of his pockets and takes the book.

“Thank you,” he says, and then a faint smile slides across his face. “And... this isn’t gonna fly and hit someone, right?”

I return his smile. “Nope, it only has the faintest traces of magic. Thanks, and you’re welcome in this store any time, although I can’t say the layout will be the same.”

Kanu leaves, and I sit at the counter, continuing to read my book. As the sun sets on the eastern horizon and as the light fades from the crystal windows in the front of the shop, I close my eyes and just soak in the atmosphere. After I admire the smell of books for far too long, I stand and take my book. The bell on the door clinks sadly as Tales watches me leave. I don’t bother to lock the door. Spells can be broken. Locks can be picked. But this bookshop is alive, and I am its keeper. Tales will look after itself until I return.