Chapter 34 #2
I knocked harder than strictly necessary.
A light flickered on upstairs. Shuffling footsteps on creaking stairs.
Then the door cracked open, revealing Mrs. Deliana’s weathered face and sharp eyes.
The bookseller took one look at us and sighed.
“Syneca Black. Should have known when I woke up that trouble was coming.” Her gaze moved to Lucy and Pip.
“And you’ve brought friends to my door in the middle of the night. This can’t be good.”
“We need maps. Old ones,” Lucy said quietly. “The oldest you have. And city records as far back as you can find.”
Mrs. Deliana’s eyes sharpened. “That’s dangerous information to seek, girls.”
“We know.”
A flash of orange caught my eye—her strange cat, the one Pip had noticed, winding between Mrs. Deliana’s legs.
The woman studied us for another long moment, then stepped aside. “Make it quick. And if anyone asks, you were never here.”
“There are hunters trailing us,” I told her, pointing over my shoulder. “But we’ve broken no laws. They are only here to report where we’ve been.”
She nodded, her tone shifting into something a bit more fierce as she laid eyes on our trackers. “Let that be my problem for later, then, if it comes to it. If anyone asks back after you, I’ll tell them the Venatori simply sought Phoenix lore. Something I have nothing of. Not a single note.”
Inside, the bookstore smelled of old paper and dust and home. I pushed away the ache as Mrs. Deliana led us to a back room where maps and records lined the walls in careful organization.
“How old are we talking?” she asked.
“Three hundred years at least,” Lucy said. “Before the current system. Before book banning and restricted knowledge.”
Mrs. Deliana’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t question it. Just pulled down a massive leather-bound volume from the highest shelf. “City registries from the Age of Scattered Crowns. Before Vestra unified under one government.” She put it on the table with a heavy thud. “This what you need?”
Lucy dove in immediately, flipping through the pages carefully.
Pip perched on a shelf, keeping watch on the street outside. “The hunters are still out there. Just watching.”
“Let them watch,” I said, though my stomach churned with nerves.
“Found it.” Lucy spread open a page showing a comprehensive list of cities. Her finger traced down the entries.
Tarenhul Est Civitas
Envaris Est Civitas
Bitterpeak Est Civitas
Every entry was formatted the same. Capital ‘E’ marking them as official settlements.
Then her finger stopped.
One entry. Different from all the others.
Dyssara est Civitas
Lowercase ‘e’. DeC
“Why lowercase?” I asked, still trying to wrap my mind around the name of the city. It just couldn’t be. But it was all we had to go on.
“Because whoever made this registry was trying to hide it in plain sight,” Lucy said. “Make it look like a clerical error. Something no one would notice unless they were really looking.”
“Dyssara?” Mrs. Deliana’s voice came from behind us. “But that’s a name from old stories. A fictional city created by Cecilia Wren ages ago. Before the last Burning. All written accounts of the story were burned, but surely you’ve still heard of it.”
“It’s from The Tales of Scales,” Pip said. “My mama used to tell it. The lost city where the Silver Queen ruled before the dragons came.”
“It’s fiction,” I said, siding with Mrs. Deliana. “A children’s story.”
“Then why is it in a four-hundred-year-old city registry?” Lucy’s voice was tight.
Mrs. Deliana moved closer, peering at the page. “And why isn’t it marked on any map I’ve ever seen, despite being listed here?”
Lucy flipped to the accompanying map. We scanned it together, looking for Dyssara.
Nothing
“It was erased,” Lucy breathed. “Listed in the index but removed from the maps. Someone wanted to make people forget it existed while leaving just enough evidence that the right person might find it again.”
Pip made a small sound of alarm, swooping back toward the window. “Um, friends? The hunters aren’t just watching anymore. They’re surrounding the building.”
My heart kicked into overdrive. Poor Mrs. Deliana. “How many?”
“Six. Maybe more.”
Mrs. Deliana moved quite fast for someone her age, practically running to a particular shelf in the corner. She pulled down a book, leather-bound and ancient, yet covered in runes that seemed to shift subtly when I looked at them directly. I recognized none of them, which was saying something.
She carried the book to an open space on the floor, laying it carefully. Then she pulled something from her pocket, a small rune carved from what looked like bone.
Heavy fists pounded on the door. “The Venatori are summoned for questioning regarding the Magistrate’s disappearance. Open up!”
Shock completely stopped everyone in the room.
“What did he just say?” Pip squeaked.
Mrs. Deliana pressed the rune to the book’s cover and whispered a word I didn’t catch. The pages began to glow with soft, silver light.
“Jump,” she said. “Through the pages. Now.”
“You’ll be implicated,” Lucy said, her eyes wide. “If we do anything but walk out of here willingly, they’ll bring this place to the ground. You must know that.”
“I have another book. Now do as you’re told. There’s no time.”
“Jump into a book?” Pip’s voice went high with panic. “That’s insane!”
“So is dying in my shop.” Mrs. Deliana’s eyes were fierce. “Jump, or don’t. But decide now.”
The door shuddered under another impact. Wood cracked.
Lucy grabbed my hand. “Together?”
I looked at the glowing book. At the door about to break. At Mrs. Deliana, who was risking everything to help us.
“Together.”
We jumped.
The world inverted. Colors bled and ran like wet paint. I felt like I was falling and flying simultaneously, reality bending around us in ways that made my stomach revolt and my magic scream for stability it couldn’t find. Reaching and failing to find Silas, who we’d left outside.
Then, solid ground appeared beneath my feet so suddenly, I stumbled and fell to my knees.
We were in a cottage. Small. Cozy. The air thick with the scent of dried herbs and old magic. The walls echoed a tragedy, or that could have just been my heart. Above us, a matching leather-bound book floated in mid-air, its pages still glowing faintly.
Then it dropped, hitting the wooden floor with a thud.
I whipped around to Lucy. “What the fuck just happened?”
“Portal magic,” Lucy said, staring at the book with wide eyes. “Mrs. Deliana’s a scrivener.”
“A what?”
“A scrivener...” Lucy shook her head in disbelief. “They’re supposed to be extinct. A race of people who could weave magic through written word. Create doorways between places using ordinary-looking books and scrolls. I thought they were myths. Stories from before the Age of Scattered Crowns.”
“Well, apparently they’re real. And running bookshops,” Pip said, landing on my shoulder. Her wings trembled slightly. “Just like Dyssara is real. Told you her cat was weird. Anyway, where are we?”
I looked around, really looked, though I already knew what I would see.
The workbench covered in half-finished runes.
The shelves lined with ingredients I recognized.
The personal touches, a blue shawl draped over a chair, a chipped teacup still sitting on the windowsill, books marked with notes in familiar handwriting.
My chest tightened with grief.
“Eda Mire’s cottage,” I breathed. “We’re in the Bloodwood.”