Chapter 1 #2
If a bookwyrm could roll his eyes, that was what I imagined Morton would be doing right now.
Instead, he let out a heavy sigh and slithered down the chair and toward the blue book, flipping it open with his tail.
Though he had pink wings, they were mostly aesthetic.
He couldn’t fly very well, so he preferred to slither most places.
The book splayed open, pages fluttering as Morton hinged opened his cavernous jaw and began to eat each page that flipped past him.
I’d known the little bookwyrm for two decades, and it never got old watching his magic at work.
He inhaled the pages until every single one was gone, his stomach bulging, his body stiff.
This was it, his magic at work.
He heaved, all the pages regurgitating out of his mouth in pieces that looked like a puzzle. The pieces put themselves back together into pages that wove into the hardcover binding until the book was exactly as it had been, no evidence of being eaten remaining.
Morton turned his head with a huff. “The tower can grant those in its residence anything they want as long as they never leave its walls. Shall the resident vacate the premises, all the magic of the tower will no longer be at their disposal and they will not be granted reentry.”
I wrinkled my nose. “It didn’t mention anything about death?”
He sighed. “Do you think I’d miss something like that?
I ate every page! Everything else was all about the magic the tower can and cannot do: cannot summon people, cannot create something that doesn’t already exist, cannot possess a person or creature, cannot be destroyed by traditional means, i.e.
, cannonball, fire, flood, etc. Although, interestingly enough, it did mention something about challenging someone to a fight, and in that event—”
“Okay, that’s enough.” I rubbed my temples, a headache forming.
Morton glided to my foot and back up into my lap. “I do think we’ll eventually have to leave the tower, you know.”
I jolted, my stomach flipping at the suggestion. “Why would you say that?”
The bookwyrm arched one of his shaggy brows. “You think we’re going to stay here forever?”
“Well, why not?” I petted the armchair like it was an old friend. “This tower can give us anything.”
And we were protected from all the dangers of the outside world, dangers we couldn’t protect ourselves from.
Morton’s tail undulated behind him. “Except other people, friendships, love, a life.”
I’d had all those once, and I’d lost them. No, that wasn’t quite right. I hadn’t fought for them. Hadn’t been brave enough to do so. I was better off here, where I didn’t have to become anyone’s burden.
“You’re a wyrm,” I said, “why do you need any of those things?”
“I don’t.” He stared at me pointedly with large glassy black eyes that had far too much depth and knowledge buried in them.
“We do have lives.” I pointed to the bookshelves. “We live a thousand lives through these books. You’re a bookwyrm. You of all creatures should love access to endless stories.”
He raised the upper half of his body into the air. “I think at this point you’re more of a bookworm than I am.” He paused, a heavy pause that indicated he had more to say. “And I think you like this tower a little too much.” His black eyes narrowed to slits.
I bristled, his words hitting much too close to the truth. “What does that mean? Who wouldn’t like this tower? It’s some of the most amazing magic that exists on the entire continent of Aubergn.”
“Right, but it doesn’t have any other people. You’re perfectly content to sit alone in a tower for the rest of your life. That’s not normal, Niamh.”
I scoffed. It was like he was forgetting why we were in this tower in the first place. But I could never forget. “Maybe for someone who hasn’t been through what I have it isn’t, but I like it here. We’re safe, and I get to read books all day and talk to you.”
“More like annoy me,” he mumbled, and I shot him a glare. “It’s not healthy for you.”
I looked down at my curvy body, thick thighs, and pudgy stomach—all more filled out than they had been years ago. “I’m perfectly healthy, thank you very much. I walk three times a day.”
All I had to do was think about walking and the tower would transform into a meadow or a forest or, much to Morton’s annoyance, a cliffside.
The end of his pink tail flicked my stomach. “I don’t mean physically. I mean mentally. You’re a human. You’re meant to have community. I’m afraid you’ll never find a home if you don’t overcome your fears.”
I shifted the blanket over my lap, not wanting to talk about this anymore. “Want to get me another book?” I asked, voice airy, unconcerned. “The one about the king and the peasant girl who tricks him into giving away his crown?”
Morton sighed and slithered toward the bookshelves and up the wall. “You’ve read that one at least ten times.”
“And I’ll read it ten times more.” I liked the peasant girl, so clever and brave, so willing to fight for herself and those she loved.
A book plopped in my lap, Morton already opening it for me. “Are you avoiding this conversation?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Maybe if I agreed with him, he’d stop with all of this, and I could get lost in a different world.
“Fine, we’ll leave the tower one day, okay?
One day we will venture out and see what has become of Aubergn.
” I snuggled deeper into the chair, determined to forget about that stupid tremble that I’d definitely imagined.
“But that day will absolutely not be today.”