Chapter Seven
CHAPTER
Seven
IF LOWELL SHARPE ascribed his life to a fairy tale, it would be this one:
Once upon a time, a man walked into a bookshop, and offered the most precious thing he owned in exchange for a book.
The book was said to be without peer, and thus priceless.
Nevertheless, its value was weighed and judged, and so the man found himself handing over one healthy firstborn child as sufficient payment.
That is, after all, what these tributary bookshops were built for, though their builders have long since slipped through memory’s fingers.
To harness the power of the river: whether it’s the books dipped in its crystalline waters, surfacing with that cordite scent of magic; or its language, imparted in throat-burning gulps and then wielded with silver-tongued mastery; or to wade yet further into its depths in the name of discovery, beyond time itself.
But as with all good fairy tales, magic has a price. And the book that could change your life? It’s priceless. Of course its value can only be measured in uncertain heartbeats, bone-deep sorrow, bottomless rage.
A firstborn child, then, for a book, is all perfectly logical, as far as once upon a time goes. Nevertheless, awkward, un-fairy-tale-esque questions linger.
Had the man intended to give over his son, the day he walked into the bookshop? Had his son known that one day he would walk out of his home, his life, and fail to return?
Lowell knows the answers, of course. But he doesn’t like to think of them.
Instead, he splays his fingers against the gleaming countertop of another bookshop, in another part of the city.
It’s a good bookshop, with adequate stock and reliable customers, and the whisper of the river running through it.
At its current premises, it might not receive ample light, but it’s spotless and organised with fastidious attention.
The colour, the ambiance, even the textures—they’ve all been specifically picked to draw attention away from the trimmings, and towards the books.
It is a good bookshop. It’s not, however, Chiron’s bookshop.
That is a true bookshop.
And that’s why it must be his.