Spells & Shelves (A Library Witch Mystery Book 1) Read online

  “You wrote it?” Estelle’s brows shot up.

  Aunt Candace leaned forwards eagerly. Aunt Adelaide had frozen with her mug halfway to her mouth.

  “Yes…” What had I said wrong? “It was mad. I was in front of a burning bin and my first instinct was to write on the paper. No wonder my boss kicked me out.” I laughed hollowly, the calming effects of the tea dissolving into the impulse to curl up and scream into a pillow instead.

  “No, you’re not mad,” Aunt Adelaide said quickly. “I’m just surprised. You’ve had no training. You’re entirely new to the magical world, yet you did genuine biblio-witchery right on the first try. I assumed when you used magic, it was the other sort.”

  “I… didn’t understand a word of that, to be honest.” I put the mug down on the table. “What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Estelle said. “Nothing at all. You did magic right. Few untrained witches could have done it.”

  My head hurt. ‘Look,” I said. “Not that I don’t appreciate you coming to my rescue, but I lost my job today, and I need to find another one otherwise I won’t be able to make next month’s rent payment. Maybe we can talk about this another time?”

  The two aunts exchanged glances.

  “Of course it’s your choice,” Aunt Adelaide said carefully, setting her mug on the table. “I did wonder, though—what did the vampires want from you?”

  “A journal.” I reached for my rucksack and unzipped it, removing Dad’s small leather-bound book. “I don’t understand why they wanted it. I can’t even read it. Abe couldn’t either. He wrote it in some sort of code that can’t be translated.”

  The three women leaned over the journal. Aunt Candace’s hands grabbed for it, but Aunt Adelaide got there first. “Hmm.”

  I sat stiffly, not liking the journal being out of my hands after the close call I’d had with the vampires.

  “It’s written in code, all right,” Aunt Adelaide said. “Not a typical magical one either. We’ll have to look it up.”

  Aunt Candace’s expression suggested Christmas had come early. “Yes, we will. May I take this?”

  Estelle stepped in. “It’s Aurora’s—Rory’s. Right?”

  I nodded gratefully. “We found it in the back room of the shop. Abe said I should throw it away, but… I never thought anyone would threaten me over it.”

  “They won’t threaten you again,” Aunt Adelaide said confidently. “That said—it’d be much easier if you came with us to the library. No need to worry about your things, we can transport them later.”

  “Did you say, ‘library’?”

  “We own the place,” Estelle said. “Well, Grandma did, but she died the year I was born.”

  “Grandma?” I’d had a grandmother who’d died before I’d had the chance to meet her? “Dad never talked about her either. He didn’t mention a library.”

  “The library is special,” said Estelle. “You’ll like it, I think.”

  I looked around my sparse, small flat. “I don’t know about this. I have a life here.” I might not have much, but it was mine.

  “Of course you do,” said Aunt Candace, a hint of impatience in her voice. “But when vampires are fixated on a goal, they don’t give up easily. The moment you leave this building, you’ll be at risk. And that’s assuming they don’t ask one of the other residents to invite them into the apartment block.”

  My mouth fell open. “They can do that?”

  “Vampires are… very clever,” said Aunt Candace. Her tone suggested that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

  “You mean dangerous,” said Estelle. “Don’t worry, Rory—they’ll never be able to follow you to the library. It’s miles away.”

  “Miles away?” I echoed. “I don’t know—I can’t just leave without telling anyone.”

  Who would I tell, though, aside from Laney? Even she’d have trouble believing it.

  “We’ll take care of everything,” Aunt Adelaide said firmly. “You’re family, after all.”

  Family. I never thought I’d have one again. “Suppose I say yes, and I come with you—wait, where do you live?”

  “A coastal town named Ivory Beach,” said Estelle. “Paranormals live in isolated communities without normals. It’s easier to be ourselves that way. And we own the library, like I said.”

  “I’m not a… paranormal,” I said. “I don’t know anything about that world.”

  “You’re definitely paranormal,” Aunt Adelaide said. “If you hadn’t already used magic to stop that fire, there’s a simple test.” She held out a pen and a blank notepad.

  I took them from her. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “Pick a spell… I think levitation is a good one. Write the word, Rise. And think very hard about that mug.” She pointed to the mug I’d put on the table.

  It’s not like I’ve got anything to lose at this point. I pressed the nib of the pen to the page, trying to focus on the mug and nothing else.

  A tingling sensation rushed up my right arm, from the pen, and an overwhelming urge to write claimed me again. The word rise all but rushed out of my pen and I let the notepad fall from my hands.

  The mug floated up off the table and hovered in mid-air.

  I sat completely still, my hand still tingling. It’s real. It’s all real.

  Aunt Adelaide beamed at me. “We have a very particular style of magic, Aurora. We’re biblio-witches. We can weave spells from words. Most witches use wands—we do, too, when the occasion calls for it—but our best strength comes from the pen.”

  I picked the mug out of the air before it fell. “You mean I can write things and they’ll come true?”

  “Within limits,” said Aunt Adelaide. “That was a simple spell, but you clearly have a lot of innate talent.”

  “I don’t know why that’s a surprise,” Aunt Candace said. “Of course she’s one of us. She worked in a bookshop, for the goddess’s sake.”

  I retrieved the notepad from where I’d dropped it. The word rise stared back at me. How could a word hold that kind of power?

  I looked up at my aunts. “How did I not know I was magical before?”

  “When a paranormal chooses to live among humans, they have to be careful,” explained Aunt Candace. “Your father had to swear not to use any magic when humans were watching, for a start. When you were born, he had to choose whether to let you develop the potential for magic or not. If I had to guess, he opted to suppress your powers entirely.”

  “But if he was magical, then why not use it to save his own life?” I swallowed. “He died when his car went off the road three winters ago. Couldn’t he have used a spell to stop it?”

  Aunt Adelaide shook her head, sympathy in her eyes. “Magic has its limitations, Rory. I’m sorry.”

  My stomach sank. “So how is it I turned out to have magic, if my dad stopped it?”

  “The spell we put on that book to alert us when you were in danger must have unlocked your own magic, too,” said Aunt Adelaide. “These things can happen, on rare occasions.”

  I put down the pen and paper on the arm of the chair. “Dad went my whole life without telling me a thing.”

  “He had to,” she said gently. “It’s the rules.”

  I was starting to strongly dislike those rules. They’d kept Dad from most of his family for my entire life. “So he left your town and never came back?”

  “Oh, we still saw one another,” Aunt Adelaide. “Not as often as I’d have liked, though. I wished we could have seen you too, Rory. Your dad had so many positive things to say about you. I have no doubt you’ll fit right in at the library.”

  “Absolutely,” Estelle said. “If you want to come with us now, pack your essentials in a suitcase. We can bring the rest over ourselves. The bookshelves can be transported as they are, I think, but let me know if you have any specific requests.”

  Her words made my head spin. Was I seriously considering running off with my newfound relatives? I’d pick them over th
e vampires, but Laney would need an explanation and the idea of flinging myself headfirst into the unknown was as terrifying as those flames.

  “Sorry, I just got overexcited,” Estelle said. “Take your time.”

  Aunt Candace made a dissatisfied noise. “You do remember you left Cass in charge of managing the front desk, don’t you? She’s probably started a brawl by now.”

  “Oh, she’ll be fine,” said Aunt Adelaide. “If you want to stay here, we can put spells on the place to deter the vampires, but they won’t work if you leave your flat.”

  I pictured those vampires standing outside my door all night and shuddered at the mental image. My aunts were offering me the only way out possible. That was clear.

  I got up from the armchair and walked to my wardrobe where I kept my old suitcase. The two aunts turned away and exchanged a murmured conversation I didn’t even try to eavesdrop on. I opened my wardrobe instead, finding row after row of drab cardigans and long skirts. A lump grew in my throat.

  I grabbed the suitcase first, leaving it open on the floor, then shoved the coat hangers aside and grabbed my old jeans. T-shirts. Casual clothes. Outfit after outfit, I tossed into the suitcase. Then I closed the wardrobe door on my old work clothes, leaving them all behind. I wouldn’t need them where I was going. Maybe I’d get one of those black cloaks the others wore.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  I shoved the thought aside and went back to packing. Vampires were hunting me. I was backed into a corner, and yet I had the opportunity of a lifetime.

  Ten minutes later, I’d packed all the essentials, and wheeled my suitcase over to the others.

  “Is that it?” asked Aunt Adelaide, eyeing my battered rucksack and small suitcase.

  My face heated. “It’s… well, I don’t have much, aside from the books. It’s hard to even afford rent on a bookshop assistant’s salary.”

  Almost impossible, actually. When I’d taken the job, I’d been a graduate filled with hopes and ambitions to make the bookshop into something Dad would be proud of. Instead, here I was throwing myself on the mercy of a group of strangers.

  Strangers Dad had known.

  I swallowed hard. “I’m ready.”

  Estelle broke into a grin, while Aunt Candace pulled a notebook from her pocket.

  “Wrong one,” Aunt Adelaide said. “I don’t think Rory wants to be part of one of your adventures.”

  I opened my mouth to ask what she meant, but Aunt Candace switched the first notepad for another and wrote a word on the topmost page.

  The next second, we’d vanished.

  3

  Soft carpet replaced my threadbare rug. Towering shelves filled the space in front of me and on my right. Curved wooden balconies divided one floor from the next. I counted five stories, each filled with endless shelves.

  If not for Aunt Adelaide’s snapping her fingers, I’d probably have stood there staring all day. In a snap, my suitcase landed on my left side, prompting me to turn in that direction. A staircase curved upwards, behind the row of shelves against the wall, almost hiding a darkened corridor.

  “Our living quarters are through there,” said Aunt Adelaide. “Private area, just for family.”

  “It mostly stays where it’s supposed to,” added Aunt Candace. “Also, only certain areas are open to the public, and if a door has an X on it, it’s not to be opened without consulting one of us first.”

  My head spun like a merry-go-round. The place was beyond vast. I couldn’t even see the ceiling above the endless stories of shelves. It was like being in a palace or castle—except filled with nothing but books. Their old-pages smell filled the air, and I inhaled deeply, swaying on the spot.

  “Oh, is she going to faint again?” Aunt Candace said. “Aim for the floor, dear. The carpet’s soft.”

  “I’m not going to faint,” I said, my voice quiet in the open space. I’d spent most of my life around books, but this… this was something else entirely. The number of titles seemed as countless as the stars in the sky. Between the rows of shelves lay plush sofas, bean bags and chairs, more reading corners than I’d ever seen anywhere. It wasn’t just vast, it was alive, filled with rustling sounds like the books were whispering to one another.

  It put Abe’s half-hearted decorating attempts to shame, that was for sure.

  “I can give you a tour,” said Estelle. “Only the ground floor. It’s not fair to leave Cass on the front desk all day.” She waved a hand in the direction of a gap between two of the towering stacks. I started, spotting other people sitting on the cushions, reading paperbacks, or climbing the ladders to reach the higher shelves. Nobody paid our group the slightest bit of attention. Apparently, a bunch of cloaked women appearing out of thin air was second nature in a place like this.

  Between the shelves, old-fashioned lanterns floated unsupported, bathing the rich carpets in orange light. Ladders hovered off the ground, while books moved around unattended, flitting about like birds. Meanwhile, several pointy-eared people who came up to my waist were engaged in a whispered conversation, while a group of young women in bright pink cloaks occupied another corner, a book floating before them.

  “We have strict rules on what spells can be used in the library,” Estelle said in a low voice. “Academy students often come in here when it’s too cold to practise outside.”

  I just nodded, utterly overwhelmed.

  Estelle indicated the corridor behind the staircase. “As my mum said, this is our living quarters. We have our own rooms and an almost endless supply of guest rooms upstairs. The kitchen’s downstairs, and the dining room. You’ll stay in the room next to mine.”

  Estelle pulled out her wand and my suitcase rose into the air. I dragged my gaze away from the library and followed her up the narrow, winding staircase, which curved behind a bookcase. The staircase climbed to a long corridor painted in beige and carpeted in blue.

  “This one,” she said, pushing open the door on her left. The room was bare and sparsely furnished with oak wood furniture. An en-suite bathroom lay through a door on the right. My suitcase floated in and landed in the middle of the floor. I watched it, wondering once again what I’d got myself into. I was further out of my depth than I’d been when I’d waded into that river.

  “Your other shelves will easily fit in here.” Estelle put her wand back into one of the pockets of her long cloak. “And I’ll help you liven the place up a bit later. Unless you want to unpack now?”

  “Give her the tour,” Aunt Candace called from downstairs. “I need to get back to my book.”

  “Of course you do.” Estelle rolled her eyes. “Aunt Candace is an author. That’s her real calling, as she tells us about seven times a day.”

  “Oh, that’s awesome,” I said, and meant it. “What sort of books does she write?”

  “More like, what doesn’t she write.” Estelle grinned. “She has… five pen names now, isn’t it? She won’t always tell us what they are. We have to guess.”

  “Any reason for that?”

  “She likes to experiment. Her fantasy capers are her best-known ones. Personally, I prefer the Adventures of Werewolves in Cyberland, but she says it was a one-off.”

  “I prefer her romances,” said Aunt Adelaide, walking onto the stairs to look up at us. “For someone who’s as much of a romantic as a swamp goblin, she writes surprisingly sweet love stories.”

  “At least I don’t date swamp goblins in real life,” Aunt Candace said from behind her.

  Aunt Adelaide turned pink. “He didn’t specify in his profile beforehand.”

  Estelle said, “Don’t you two start. Rory’s freaked out enough as it is.”

  “I’m not,” I lied. Hearing the group of them bicker like normal families was the closest to anything ordinary I’d seen since the shop door had opened and those vampires had come in. “So you all work full time here?”

  “Yes, we do,” said Estelle. “My mum runs the place, but the rest of us rotate jobs and do whate
ver needs doing. Speaking of, Cass isn’t fond of dealing with people. I’ll have to go and take over from her later, but there aren’t too many people in here at the moment.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll give you a little time to learn the basics before we put you to work,” said Aunt Adelaide, with a smile. “We take it in turns and share all the tasks equally. It takes a joint effort to run the place.”

  “You said it was my grandmother’s? The library?”

  Aunt Adelaide’s smile faded. “I’m sorry you never got to meet her, Rory. Your dad would have loved to bring her to see you as a baby, but she rarely left the library.”

  “She was a little eccentric,” Estelle said. “Her husband—our grandfather—died before I was born. So now it’s just us. Want to see it all?”

  “I should take over from Cass,” added Aunt Adelaide. “Before she and the goblin get into it again.”

  “Goblin?” I asked. There were goblins, too?

  “Cass has a short fuse,” said Estelle. “It’s why we don’t leave her to supervise the desk if we can help it. I’ll show you around.”

  I left my rucksack beside my suitcase and followed Estelle back downstairs, weaving between the shelves to a spot with a clearer view of the towering stories. From here, the library’s many floors resembled a layered cake or Christmas present, lit by floating lanterns.

  “I love how it looks at night,” Estelle said. “Grandma’s the one who picked the lanterns. Aunt Candace wanted to replace them with electric lights, but I think it would wreck the atmosphere.”

  “So you do have electricity?” I asked. “I mean, in most of the fantasy books I’ve read, technology and magic are incompatible.”

  “Magic does have odd effects on some technology,” she said. “But we have magical equivalents to almost everything. We’ve existed alongside normals for centuries, after all.”

  She resumed walking between the shelves. I tried to take in all the titles—Divining Fates, Dining with the Dead, Conjuring for Beginners—until I nearly walked headlong into a low-hanging hammock. A man wearing a lopsided green pointed hat lay sprawled on his back, snoring loudly. Estelle pressed a finger to her lips and sidestepped him, leading me around a spacious area between the shelves filled with bean bags, armchairs and cushions. A sign saying ‘Reading Corner’ floated between two lanterns.