Dancing with the Dragon (Ferndale Falls Forever #3)

CHAPTER ONE

Skye

Magic shivers through the air, and the book I’m reaching for disappears.

My hand recoils in shock. “What the fudge?” There aren’t any kids in the library right now, but I automatically correct to a safe swear just in case, because I’m supposed to be alone, and I’m clearly not.

A chuckle comes from several feet away, and my head whips around right as the book slides into place on the correct shelf.

“Who’s there?” It can’t be pixies. Their voices are much higher, and their tiny glowing blue bodies are pretty much the exact opposite of discreet.

Instead of answering, another book from the reshelve pile disappears.

“Oh, good, you’re here.” A blast of wintry air precedes Hannah as she hurries through the main door of the library. My bestie pushes her long brown hair out of her face, her light cheeks pinkened by the cold. Since Town Hall is right next door, she didn’t bother with a coat.

A third book disappears from the stack on the circulation desk.

“Did you see that?” I jab a finger toward the ones that are left. “Someone’s here, someone invisible.”

“Bumbleboots, is that you?” Hannah asks the room.

“Yes, Mayor Wylde.”

“Introduce yourself to Head Librarian Summers, please.”

A two-foot-tall man steps out of thin air. Everything about him is brown, from his dark hair and eyes to his light-brown skin and his clothes, made of a patchwork of leaves.

“You’re a brownie, like Pepperpot.” I step out from behind the circulation desk to get a better look at him. His resemblance to the town baker is too strong for him to be any other type of fae.

“Alas, my hearth magic does not incline itself to baking like the amazing Pepperpot.” He blushes and glances down at his hands, which twine together nervously.

“Bumbleboots is a special kind of brownie,” Hannah says, “a book brownie.”

“Oh, that’s the best!” I smile at him.

“Really?” He perks up, looking at me with hopeful eyes.

“The very best.” I nod. “There’s nothing better than books.”

With another shiver of magic, he disappears, taking the pile of books with him. In a flash, they appear one after the other, sliding into place on the various wooden bookshelves lining the room.

“How does he do that?” I ask. “Teleportation magic like Naomi?”

My friend shakes her head. “Invisibility is part of a brownie’s hearth magic.” Hannah raises her voice. “That’s great for today, Bumbleboots. I’d like to speak to Head Librarian Summers alone now, please.”

“Yes, Mayor Wylde.”

Magic thrums through the air, leaving behind silence.

“So I’m ‘head’ librarian now? Kind of unnecessary, don’t you think, since I’m the only librarian.”

“Not anymore, you’re not.” Hannah pulls out her phone. “I got a very pointed email from the state’s human resources department. As of five pm today, you’re on vacation.”

“But I don’t want a vacation.” Even as I force the words out, I cringe inside, the people pleaser in me hating to go against anyone, let alone one of my besties.

“Skye, you have to,” Hannah says, using her official I’m-the-boss tone, which is fair, since she’s currently talking to me as the mayor of Ferndale Falls.

She frowns at her phone as she scrolls through several pages’ worth of data.

“You didn’t take a vacation this year. In fact, you haven’t taken a single one since you started as town librarian four years ago.

If you don’t take at least two weeks off, you’ll forfeit your paid vacation days. ”

“Would that really be so bad? If I don’t use those days, the town keeps the money.” Ferndale Falls has struggled for years, shrinking and fading as people and businesses moved away. The recent influx of fae with magic and money has helped, but…

“Not an issue any longer. We’ve filled almost all the empty shops downtown, and rents are coming in regularly.

” Hannah slides her phone into her back pocket.

Concern fills her eyes as she grips my shoulder to give me a comforting squeeze—she’s back to being my bestie now, not the mayor.

“Besides, this is about you. I don’t want you burning yourself out. ”

“No worries about that,” I say, patting at my hair nervously. My platinum-blonde retro hairdo holds firm, locked into place by a generous application of hairspray. “It’s not like the library’s that busy. Lots of people use the online apps to check out ebooks these days.”

“Not the point.”

Hannah’s so together, so competent as mayor of our small town.

Tall and thin, she radiates an easy confidence, even dressed in nothing more complex than dark jeans and a simple sweater.

Here I am, wearing my retro 1950s pinup-girl dress, heels, and hair.

It’s a bold style that looks good with my curves, but it’s kind of the only bold thing about me—underneath it all I don’t feel like I have a single ounce of her confidence.

How do I admit I don’t know what to do with myself without work?

Glancing down, I run my hand across one of the old wooden library tables, a solid slab of oak darkened by time and decorated with over a century of pen scratches.

It always gives me such a feeling of history and purpose, imagining all the generations of kids working on school projects, all the people finding books they love.

Being a librarian isn’t simply my job—it’s who I am. I’m nothing without books.

“Time off is exactly what you need.” My friend gives my shoulder another squeeze. “You might even figure out your magic!”

“If I have any.” I sigh. I’m supposed to be a witch, but I have no idea what powers I have. Hannah can talk to animals, Naomi teleports, and Autumn has wish magic, but me? Zero fudging clue.

“Of course you do. You can sense magic like I could before I got my powers.” Hannah pulls me into a hug, and when she steps back, she waggles a finger at me. “You’ve got ten minutes until your vacation starts, and once it does, I don’t want to see you in here for two whole weeks.”

“But—”

“Nope.” She pops the P. “Two weeks off, and off means off.” Promising Bumbleboots will cover my work, Hannah hurries back to her office in Town Hall, leaving me alone in the library.

The old Victorian building wraps around me like a hug, the rows of perfectly organized wooden shelves holding a thousand worlds to escape into. A familiar grumble comes from the backroom as the ancient furnace kicks on, hot air pouring through wrought iron vents to keep the place toasty warm.

I walk slowly around the room, my fingers trailing over the wooden shelves, breathing in the comforting scent of ink, leather, and paper.

Ferndale Falls is too small to have a very big library, but I’m proud of the work I’ve done.

I’ve used every cent of our small budget to improve the collection, updating it from one stuck in the last mid-century to something people of today want to read.

Almost all the new books are part of our digital collection, but I still love what physical books we have.

I might dress like I’m from the 1950s, but that doesn’t mean it was the pinnacle of literary accomplishment or anything. I shudder at the thought of living without my personal addiction: spicy romance.

Speaking of which… I shove the book I just ordered into my purse.

Usually, I read paranormal romance with monsters and witches and magic, but this one’s a spicy rom com about a woman who talks her new neighbor into doing a dance competition on Valentine’s Day.

I’ve always secretly wanted to ballroom dance with a partner, so I can’t wait to start it.

After shrugging into my coat, I take one last look around the library before flipping off the lights.

It feels unreal to think I won’t return for two weeks.

Not when I’ve spent almost every day here since I got the job four years ago, right out of college.

Being Ferndale Falls’s librarian is all I’ve ever wanted to be.

Who am I without it to fill my days?

The next morning, I leave home at the same time as always, drive downtown, and park in my usual spot behind the library.

Then I stand in front of its front door and force myself to turn my back to it.

Ferndale Falls spreads out before me, full of promise.

Early morning sunshine sparkles over the snow covering the town green like a fluffy white blanket.

The shops lining Main Street beckon, each painted in fanciful colors and decorated with contrasting gingerbread trim.

How should I spend the first day of my staycation?

Normally on my one day off each week, I visit the aunts, all of us baking up a storm, but I can’t do that for two weeks straight.

If I’m going to do this vacation thing right, I need to try something new.

I pop a cinnamon heart candy into my mouth, the familiar spicy sweetness invigorating as I consider what to do.

I can get a coffee at Grounds for Celebration and a pastry from Cake My Day and eat while reading my book.

I could visit my friend Autumn at Your Bubbly Charm and see what special soap she’s made for Valentine’s Day.

I could do a little window shopping at Bling It On, maybe find a cute necklace that’s not too expensive, or I could finally visit Haute & Bothered.

The fae dress shop specializes in flowing creations of Faerie silk, which aren’t anything like my retro 1950s style, but maybe they’d make me a custom dress if I asked.

Instead of moving, I stand there, uncertain, like an unmoored balloon waiting for a breeze to push me in a direction.

The fact that I have endless possibilities means I don’t know what to do first. As the last of the candy dissolves on my tongue, I spin back toward the library, my feet moving before any conscious decision is made.

Surely it’s okay for me to visit as a patron—that won’t violate my promise to Hannah—and if I rearrange a book or two while I’m there, well, I’m just being a good citizen.