Page 12 of Must Love Libraries and Libations (Moonshine Hollow #2)

ERASMUS

W e caught up to them in the Herbalism section.

They had spent the night building…without any additional rare materials or hexed books.

Their nest was now massive and looked complete, but a bookwyrm never missed the chance to add something silver, which now included Stevenson’s cupcake wrappers.

The snackish bookwyrm eyed me smugly as he tucked the last wrapper into the nest before disappearing, icing on his snout.

Miss Windsong’s basket sat in the center of the nest like a prized egg, Louisa May poring through the contents.

Rather than panicking, Miss Windsong stepped forward slowly, crouching down with the calm, cheerful authority one might use on an excitable child or a drunk garden sprite.

“What is her name?” Miss Windsong asked me.

“Louisa May.”

Upon hearing her name, Louisa May looked up at me, then turned her attention to the half-elf.

“Louisa May,” Miss Windsong said softly. “I see your hard work here. It’s an excellent nest. I love all the silver touches. Really, I do. Ribbons and spoons? A girl after my own heart. But, my friend, I need the basket back. There are things in there I really can’t replace.”

Louisa May squeaked and tightened her clawed hands around the handle.

“Hmm,” Miss Windsong mused. “You like silver things, right? I can make this nest glow entirely in silver. It’s a little enchantment I know. Let’s trade. My enchantment, which will make the whole nest appear silver, for my basket.”

Louisa May trilled then turned to Hawthorne. The pair clicked to one another, coming to an understanding. Louisa May gave Miss Windsong an affirmative nod then handed the basket back to the party planner.

Miss Windsong set the basket aside.

“All right,” she said with a smile. “A deal’s a deal. If you don’t mind clearing away a moment,” she said, gesturing. “I don’t want you to shine silver too,” she added with a giggle.

At that, Hawthorne and Lousia May moved away from the nest and watched Miss Windsong work.

Speaking in a low tone, I listened as Miss Windsong whispered in Elvish with some slight variations.

I couldn’t quite catch all of the spell, but the magic was so soft, gentle.

A glowing ball of silver light appeared in her hands.

She worked delicately, like she was pulling string between her hands.

Finally, she shook out the spell. It unfolded like a swath of silk.

She let it go, the spell slowly drifting down onto the nest. At once, the entire nest took on a shimmering silver light.

At that, Louisa May and Hawthorne began to trumpet so loudly in excitement, it had all the other bookwyrms trumpeting back. Soon, the entire pack came to see what had Hawthorne and Louisa May so excited. When the others saw, they all erupted into excited clicks and calls.

Miss Windsong laughed and clasped her hands together in excitement. “Oh, it’s perfect. And look how happy they are.” She smiled warmly, her eyes shimmering in the silver light.

“You’re good with them,” I said before I could stop myself.

“It’s just a simple charm I use to make silver cutlery and goblets shine. But, in this case, it worked perfectly,” she replied, then turned to me, her hazel eyes bright.

Sunlight shimmered into the library from above the Wyrmwood tree, the sunlight slanting into this section of the library. The glow on her face, happiness from a job well done, made her eyes sparkle. I didn’t remember ever seeing eyes so beautiful before.

“Come with me,” she said, taking my hand.

Taken off guard, I blinked. “Where?”

“Just…come.”

I followed her out of the Herbalism wing, through the central hall, and out onto the veranda at the back of the library.

There, a stone patio curved toward the reflecting pond in the distance. Benches graced the space, along with a gazebo. Wishing willow trees at the edge of the pond swayed in the breeze. I hardly ever came out here, but a few patrons liked to sit and read outside.

“Okay, just hear me out,” Miss Windsong said, lifting a finger to ask for my patience, then she began gesturing.

“It will be an evening event. We’ll begin at sundown to enjoy the beauty of the sunset on the water.

As for the event, I want to put up a few tents,” she said, gesturing to the green space beside the library.

“Cream canvas, no garish colors. Food tables, high-top tables for drinks, and enough room for mingling. Maybe even a space for dancing. The cupcakes and other food will be served underneath the tents, and we’ll serve drinks on the patio,” she said, gesturing.

“Paper lanterns up here. Enchanted to stay warm and low-lit—magical, not flammable. And I’ll hire a string ensemble.

Harps, violins, gentle music. Nothing too… brass.”

I said nothing.

She turned back, earnest now. “And inside, a quiet display. With your help, we can highlight the history of the library. You must have many things in your collection that the town’s residents would like to see. And of course, there’s the Wyrmwood tree.”

I froze. “Not inside,” I said after a moment.

“But no one ever sees the Wyrmwood tree bloom,” she said softly. “No one but you. Don’t you think maybe the townspeople should, too?”

I looked through the tall window at the tree.

The closed flowers pulsed faintly with magic, but they would not bloom until the moon rose.

No one else had seen it bloom because no one else had been here when the moonlight turned its branches silver and the blossoms ruby red.

No one else had stood beneath its glow because it was always just me, alone, in the library.

Just like I had been for hundreds of years.

“I know you care about this place,” she said softly. “I do too. I just want to show people just how special it is.”

It would’ve been easier if she’d demanded something ridiculous, but this?

This was worse.

She wanted me to share my world. Could I do that? I was as much a molding relic as the books in the rare books room. Letting them see the library and me…

Emotions warred in me.

Finally, I cleared my throat. “Not inside. It’s not possible. But I will agree to your party outside.”

“But—”

“That is the only compromise I can make. But no loud music.”

“Of course.”

“And no open flames.”

She smiled, eyes bright. “Naturally.”

“And you’ll need to write up a schedule for my approval.”

“Already working on it.”

“The outside celebration, yes, but no inside display.”

Her smile faltered. “But why not?”

Because it’s me you are asking to be on display. Old. A relic. A history. “It’s unnecessary.”

“It’s not about necessity. It’s about honoring the library and sharing its history and the Wyrmwood tree with the town.”

“No.”

She tilted her head slightly. “Your mouth says no, but I’m hearing yes. You’re going to agree. I know it.”

I crossed my arms, my tail twitching with annoyance. “You are relentless.”

“I’m still hearing a yes,” she said, then grinned. “Glad we have that settled on.”

I huffed a breath in annoyance.

She studied my face for a moment, then stepped closer. “Erasmus,” she began, her voice quieter now. “About earlier?—”

“No,” I said quickly and more harshly than I intended. “It was nothing.”

She froze for a moment, then said, “Nothing.”

“Nothing. A mistake. Just…forget it.”

“Right,” she said after a beat. Her voice was even, but I could feel my words had affected her. “Well, since it was nothing , let me get to work. Now that we have agreed, I have cupcakes to order and musicians to hire.”

Her cheeks burning red, she turned without waiting for an answer and headed off.

As she hurried away, I wanted to call her back but didn’t know what to say. Guilt twisted in my chest. I hadn’t meant it to sound so harsh. I’d panicked. It wasn’t nothing .

Not to me.

And that was precisely the problem.

I hadn’t kissed anyone in, what, four hundred years or so?

I hadn’t even really noticed a woman in that long. Sure, there were always beautiful women in Moonshine Hollow, but a woman who made me lose my composure, made me struggle for words, made my stomach twist? It had been a very long time since I’d met a woman like that.

And Miss Windsong undid me.

How could I explain that to her? She already thought I was a stodgy, cold relic.

My wings shifted, tail twitching with agitation. Not knowing what else to do, I headed back toward my study, irritation rising again like an old companion. This entire thing was a distraction, an unnecessary complication…both her and her party.

She could have her party outside, but I wasn’t going to be any part of it.

I had to set it all aside. Her. The party.

All of it. I had important work to do. There were still spells in the witch’s codex that needed to be chained.

That was my task. That was why I was here.

Even if I was on the last book, the last pages, with no other magical tasks waiting for me thereafter.

I had not yet let myself consider the yawning abyss that lay on the other side of being done with the codex.

That was too much. Beyond the codex, there was…

nothing. A new assignment? I had no idea what the council had planned for me.

But for now, I still had a job to do, and kissing beautiful, irresistibly insistent women had nothing to do with that.

I was a gargoyle. It was time to focus on my work once more.

That was why I was here, after all. I was there to guard the library, not to fall in love…

no matter how warm and good the infuriating Miss Windsong had felt in my arms.

* * *

Turning my attention from Miss Windsong turned out to be easier said than done. That night, as I sat before Witch Eyreaway’s codex, my mind was distracted.

The study smelled of parchment, lavender-scented wax, and ink. But the air was still…too still. My tools still lay neatly arranged at my side. My tea had gone cold. Melville slept in the corner, his soft snore the only sound in the place.

I should have been focused.

Instead, my thoughts drifted again and again to her.

Her laugh. Her determination. The gentle way she handled Louisa May and Hawthorne.

Her beautiful magic. And the press of her mouth against mine.

The way she smelled, like freesia, clean linens, like sunlight…

with just a hint of something sweet. She was so warm and soft against me. I had wanted to melt into her.

I had no time for this.

Agitated, I turned a page absently.

Before I realized what I had done, a spell slipped off the page. A whisper of golden glyphs unhooked from the parchment, curling upward in a slow spiral.

“Oh no,” I gasped, moving to cast a spell to capture it. “No, no, no, no… Wait!”

I reached for the witch’s spell, my book magic flaring to catch and contain, but the enchantment zigzagged from my grasp, darting through the open door and into the stacks with a mischievous laugh.

I jumped up from my stool so quickly that my seat toppled over as I rushed after the loose enchantment. I hurried to the main workroom. There, the bookwyrms were lingering about, reading or sleeping.

“A spell is loose!” I called out to them. “Everyone, look! Quickly!”

At that, they began to trumpet, and the whole pack set out on a hunt, joining me as we looked for the rogue spell. But no matter where we looked, even the library shuddering and shifting to hunt for the spell, we couldn’t find it anywhere.

“Oh no! The townspeople. Library, cast an enchantment. Don’t let it escape your walls,” I called in panic.

The entire building felt like it quaked a moment, then a wave of golden light washed over the building, enveloping it in an enchantment.

“Is it here?” I called. “Have you caught it?”

There was a pause, then a pulse of affirming green light.

I exhaled deeply.

In the very least, the spell was contained within the walls of the library. But what was the spell? Was it dangerous? I would need to warn the librarians.

The bookwyrms and I made an exhaustive hunt of the whole library, but the spell was hidden so well, even the library itself could not quite pinpoint where it was hiding.

Agitated with myself, I went back into my study and slammed the codex shut, the sound echoing through the room, and locked it with an enchantment.

This was what came from distractions.

From cupcakes, music, and…her.

I sat back in my chair, jaw clenched, listening to the silence.

Twisting my hands, I tried to think of where we had forgotten to look, but it was no use. The witch’s spell was like a trap lying in wait.

Groaning, I set my head in my hands. This was precisely why I was here: to prevent something like this from happening.

There was no telling what manner of spell was loose or how it might manifest. Witch Eyreaway was as gray as they came, and that spell that had slipped away had looked like a tricky prankster.

A terrible feeling rocked my stomach.

No good would come of this.

I closed my eyes, my mind shifting to Miss Windsong’s smile once more. Warmth filled me at the mere thought of her, and once more, I remembered the feel of her body pressed against mine.

“Enough,” I said, gesturing for the lamps to extinguish for the night. “I’m going to bed, old friend,” I told Melville, who merely snored in reply. “And I’m not thinking about that maddening half-elf anymore,” I added, rising and making my way to my bedroom, which sat just off the study.

But as I sat down on my bed and made ready to sleep, I heard the ancient bookwyrm chuckle knowingly.