Chapter Six, Part II

Dreary mornings were the worst. Since I wasn't accustomed to wearing makeup, I had forgotten to wash my face the night before and I arose with ashy smudges painting my pillowcase.

The thunder grumbled threateningly outside as I tied up my leather boots and hiked up my skirts, stuffing the multiple layers of thick fabric into a belt at my hip. I propped open my umbrella and started out into the continuing rain.

The town peeked over the horizon in the same place it had been the day before, but today the shutters were closed and the morning chatter gone, replaced by the splash of water on the muddy streets and umbrellas fanned over hurried runs from one building to another.

I entered Tremie's dress shop to glamorous skirts all aglow despite the dismal gray that fogged the windows. Several customers lolled about the shop like placid birds and Lefeli stood behind the counter laughing with a girl half her age, both of them poking at a small doll between them. She looked older when placed next to a child.

I hung my umbrella on the rack next to several other more decorative ones, then puffed out a breath and strode directly to the back of the shop to locate Tremie. Lefeli noticed me before I got far, though, and excused herself from her conversation. She was next to me in seconds, giggling frivolously.

"Veia, wait here a second. I'll be right back!" She twirled around and raced into the purple curtains covering the entrance to the upstairs, popping back out almost immediately after with a book clutched to her chest.

I stiffened.

"Someone came into the shop this morning and said this was for you," she twittered and curled her mousy brown ponytail around her finger. "Wasn't that sweet of them?"

She held it out and I sickened. Surely enough, my efforts yesterday had been for naught. The etching on the otherwise unharmed cover taunted me still.

I lifted the cursed book from her hands and laughed dryly. "You're absolutely right, Lefeli. I'm touched."

Just as I turned past her, the door opened and another customer came in. Lefeli squealed and ran to welcome them, and I brushed through the purple curtains where I would be alone.

It was darker back here without the light from the windows and no decorative lamps. The walls were as small as in my cottage and led straight up the stairway to the apartment above, but the floorboards were still polished and sanded, the stairs a deep pine. It was a cramped space, though, I had to admit.

I released a breath and stared at the leather of the book, then opened the cover to look at the pages. Nothing had changed. My full name on the first page, written in scripty lettering. The second page and every page after was as white and as blank as a slate.

Just as I finished the thought, a dot appeared on the middle of the page, then I watched the spot grow into a letter and a word and a sentence like an invisible pen was dancing over the paper.

I dropped the book abruptly and tripped over my foot, falling backward and hitting the ground with a yelp. Just like that, the book slammed shut on the contents, closing off my view of the words.

Lefeli peeked through the curtains and made a little "Oh!" before rushing up and asking if I was okay, prodding a grip down my arms for bruises or cuts.

"I'm fine." I batted her hands away and stood up, but Lefeli was next to the book before I even saw her move.

"Did this cause you to fall?" Her wide eyes looked up at me.

My eyebrows scrunched. "Why would—?"

"What's going on here?" Tremie's voice made me jump again. "Veia, dear, are you alright?"

I patted the dust from my dress and nodded, then snatched the book from the ground and shoved it in my knapsack. "I'm here for work."

Her face lit up. "There's a sack of fabric in the corner of the shop, if you could go get it, and we can start teaching you the newest designs."

"Yes, Ma'am."

I pushed through the purple curtains and immediately ran into someone, smacking my head against them and stumbling backward. A firm hand wrapped under my back before I could fall, though, and I focused enough to see the gray scarf from last night, then I looked up into stunning blue eyes and heat flushed up my neck. I had run headlong into Atlas, and he had caught me. How mortifying.

I righted myself and bobbed my head quickly in thanks, then rushed past him and snatched up the cloth sack from the corner. I stood for a long moment with the sack in my hands, then my shoulders slumped. On the way back to Tremie, I would have to pass right by him again. I knew he wanted to talk. Why else would he be here? He didn't look like he wanted to purchase a dress for someone. I groaned inwardly.

I had no wanting to talk to him. Or even be near him. Ever.

I crossed the room and passed the sack of fabric to Tremie. Her face told me she knew Atlas was here and she swatted me away with a suggestive smile. Lefeli had returned to the counter, but stared at me inconspicuously and wiggled her eyebrows with an expression similar to Tremie's.

I approached Atlas, who folded his hands behind his back in reply. "Hello, sir." My service voice, sweet as honey but false as old ladies' rumors, made me want to barf. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Do you practice magic?" He pointed to my bag.

My back went rigid and I chuckled coldly. "Why would you say that, sir?"

"Oh," he cleared his throat. "I suppose you didn't just mess up your magic book, then. The one in your bag."

A customer standing nearby cast me a lingering glance and my smile faltered. This guy. This stupid boy. I couldn't stand him. "Would you follow me outside for a moment?"

"Absolutely."

We grabbed our umbrellas, mine navy blue with silver lining, his a dismal black, and popped them open as we left the safety of the shop and went out into the street. We huddled near the wall.

"How did you know it was magic?" I raised my voice over the rain and shot him a look clearly portraying my frustration on the matter.

He shrugged casually. "That book just looks like magic. As we speak, actually, it's letting off some sparks."

I looked down at my knapsack, where the corner of the book was peeking out and sparking when rain hit it. I then looked back at Atlas, but no words came. I fumed.

"Are you struggling with it?" He offered a curious look.

"Am I—" I stopped and clamped my mouth shut. "You want to know about the book? Fine. I'll tell you." I explained how it had shown up on my dresser, then the events of the past few days with Emrita and how I had attempted to rid myself of the curse since then, and Atlas just stood and nodded occasionally, his face frozen in a look of thoughtfulness. I was breathless by the time I'd finished, my grip on my umbrella causing my nails to dig into my palm.

"You know," he said after a moment, putting his hand to his chin, "it sounds like a pretty complicated curse. I would bet a pretty bit you have a fine witch in town who's taken an interest in you."

"No," I gasped dramatically. "I thought it was a little elf trying to help me set my house on fire!"

He raised his palm in surrender, his eyebrows raising at what I assumed was an unexpected move from me. "Well I just happen to know a town of magic practitioners. It's sort of infamous, but I know a few people who might be able to help."

The rain pattered in the silence. "Do you mean Azareba?"

"Ah, you know of it!"

I stared at his smile. "I don't like the way you do things, Jeims."

He mocked surprise and took a step closer, a strand of his dark hair falling into his face as he grinned. "So, your shot at chemistry for a trip to Azareba?"

"Dirty conman," I muttered, but he had already turned away and was holding the door open for me. The smug look on his face prompted my hands into fists as I shoved past him, my umbrella hitting hard into the stand as I tromped to the back of the shop.

To Azareba it was, then.