Page 15 of Must Love Libraries and Libations (Moonshine Hollow #2)

PRIMROSE

S oft music drifted through the wine cellar like a gentle invitation. “Well, that’s not obvious at all,” I said with a laugh, taking another sip. “The mysterious witch’s wine cellar has a romantic ambience. How could that possibly be a bad idea?” I asked, rolling my eyes in jest.

Erasmus huffed a laughed. “When it comes to the witch, everything suggests ‘bad idea.’”

“Except the wine. This wine definitely says good idea. Cheers to being trapped by a centuries-old matchmaker.”

Erasmus nearly choked on his wine. “Matchmaker?”

“Oh, come on. Wine cellar, dim lighting, romantic music? She’s either trying to get us drunk enough to solve her puzzle, or she’s playing matchmaker from beyond the grave. Is it grave? You weren’t so clear about that.”

“Well, her death is not so clear.”

“So, she could literally be here somewhere?”

“It’s possible.”

“Fun,” I said, then took another sip of the wine.

I was trying to stay upbeat, but my heart was slamming in my chest. We were trapped.

There was no obvious way out. And the witch…

The witch was playing games. While magic was commonplace in Moonshine Hollow, it was never used maliciously.

The witch’s intent was unclear, but the vibe was certainly telling.

And truth be told, I didn’t altogether mind being trapped with Erasmus.

“If I were a witch who hoarded wine this good, I’d haunt my mysterious wine cellar too,” I said, trying to keep the mood light.

Erasmus finished his cup then refilled both our drinks. Sipping once more, he looked around the room. “We should focus on escaping,” Erasmus said, though I noticed he didn’t put down his cup.

“Absolutely. But just for this moment, the wine deserves our attention. And it will definitely taste better with cheese,” I said, then began unpacking my basket.

I knew I should have been panicking. I knew I should have been running around the room in fear.

The witch had trapped us, and there was no means of escape, but for some reason, a feeling of calm had washed over me.

I unpacked my basket, setting out cheese, grapes, and the mood-soothing muffins Zarina had given me.

“Maybe if we eat a little something, it will give us time to think like a mischievous witch,” I said, handing Erasmus a hunk of cheese.

He took it from my hand, his gaze meeting mine. “Do you really think so?”

“Not at all, but it’s better than panicking. And this cheese and wine pairing will be divine.”

At that, Erasmus laughed, then took a bite, following it with a sip of wine.

“Well?” I asked.

“You’re right. Better than my usual rations.”

“Rations?”

“I… I’m not much for cooking, and there is no space here in the library.”

“Nowhere to cook? Then, what do you eat?” I asked, realizing I’d never actually seen Erasmus’s living quarters save for his study.

“I purchase a few goods from the village, a little bread, fruit, maybe some nuts. It is enough.”

At that, my heart broke. How many years had he lived in such a manner, never sharing a meal with others, just chewing on stale bread alone? “I…” I began, but didn’t know what to say. “You need one of these too,” I said, handing him one of the muffins. “From The Sconery.”

“Do you always carry muffins with your business papers?”

“Only when I’m trying to win over snackish bookwyrms.”

He chuckled.

As we drank, we came up with several ideas on how to break the spell.

“The witch will not choose something obvious or too serious,” Erasmus said. “It is not in her nature. If anything, it will be ridiculous.”

“Hmm,” I mused, eyeing the door and realizing the wine had gone to my head a lot faster than I realized.

“Let me try a song. That sounds ridiculous enough. How about a song, Witch Eyreaway? Would you like that?” Standing before the door, I warbled the Moonshine Hollow anthem.

I was not a great singer by any means, but I knew the words and could carry a tune well enough.

But when I was done, nothing happened.

“Nothing,” I said, then turned back to Erasmus, who was grinning at me, his mouth pulled to one side.

“The song is too new,” he said. “The witch would not have known it.”

“And you let me sing it anyway?”

“Yes.”

“Why? For a laugh?”

“Not exactly,” he said, then set down his goblet. “Let me try,” he said, then stepped toward the door. He began to speak in languages I didn’t know. But with his last attempt, I caught several Elvish words.

“Is that?—”

“Bright Sidhe.”

“Have you ever been to Golden Spires?”

He shook his head. “No, but I know the Bright Sidhe language. Gargoyles serve in the libraries there. I always dreamed that, one day, I would be asked to serve in the golden city.”

“So, you can be reassigned? They do that? Call you to go elsewhere? Even after all this time?”

“They can. In fact, my work with the witch’s grimoire is nearly done.

After I am finished…” he said, then shrugged, indicating he didn’t know what would come next.

But I also noticed that he picked up his wine goblet and hid the expression that had passed briefly across his features. Worry? Uncertainty? I wasn’t sure.

“By now, surely you think of Moonshine Hollow as your home.”

“It will be hard to leave the bookwyrms.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling sorry for how conflicted he must have felt.

Turning our attention back to the door, we attempted every escape method we could think of.

I tried complimenting the wine cellar’s décor, thinking flattery might work.

Nothing. Erasmus recited old poetry and even tried a few charms known to work only on buildings, but nothing.

Spell after spell, we tried everything we could think of, but nothing worked.

“What about the library itself? Can’t it help us?” I asked.

“I think you may have been right before, when you called this place a pocket world. This is her space, not part of the library.”

“Maybe we need to drink more,” I suggested after the latest failed attempt.

I refilled both of our cups, the wine making me feel more relaxed, bolder.

It also had me noticing Erasmus’s form much more.

He was undeniably handsome and so unlike anyone else I’d ever met. Why had I never noticed him before?

Probably, because he never left the library.

“More wine seems unwise,” Erasmus said, picking up his goblet and drinking anyway.

“We’re already trapped. Might as well enjoy ourselves.” I settled onto the stone floor, leaning against the wall. “Come on, sit. My neck hurts from looking up at you.”

Reluctantly, he sat across from me, his long legs folding awkwardly as he swished his tail into his lap. Even sitting, he was imposing, all muscle and dark intensity.

“So,” I said, taking another sip. “You have been in this library with only the bookwyrms for a very long time. Don’t you long for other company?”

“No.”

“When was the last time you had a real conversation with someone? About something other than ancient spells and proper book binding?”

“I speak with the librarians.”

“About work.” I rolled my eyes. “I mean, really talked. About dreams, fears, what makes you laugh, what you want from life.”

He was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer. Finally, he said, “What would be the point? I am here. My work is here. The world moves on, and I remain the same.”

My heart clenched at the loneliness in his voice. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” He drained his cup, and I refilled it without being asked.

“Do you know what the village was like when I first arrived? Five buildings. No real roads. The library was a cart with three spell books and a handful of scrolls recounting folk tales. I watched Moonshine Hollow grow, watched generations of families live and die. I’ve been here more than five hundred years. I’ve outlasted everything.”

“Not everything,” I said softly. “The town is still here, as is the library, although in a different form.”

“Important things.”

I leaned forward, wine making me bold. “You act like being old makes you irrelevant, but that’s not true. You’re the keeper of all that history, all those stories. You’re the bridge between then and now.”

He looked at me with something that might have been surprise. “You don’t understand. You’re so…bright. So much a part of this world, this time. You make people smile and create magic that brings joy. I neutralize dangerous spells.”

“You protect people,” I said firmly. “You care for creatures who can’t care for themselves. You maintain knowledge that would otherwise be lost. How is that not important?”

“It’s not alive . Not like what you do.”

I leaned toward him, close enough to see the flecks of amber in his golden eyes, and set my hand on his knee.

“Erasmus, you are the guardian and caretaker of the bookwyrms. You have a nest full of eggs that you are protecting. That is life. And,” I said with a smirk, “you let me talk you into throwing a party even though it unnerved you. That is being part of something.”

Something shifted in his expression, a crack in that stony facade. “Do you always see the goodness in everyone?”

“Everyone but my mother,” I joked with a laugh that Erasmus joined.

We stared at each other, the air thick with an unspoken tension. I was very aware of how close we were sitting, how his scent, parchment and sage and something uniquely him, made my head spin more than the wine.

“Try another spell,” I suggested, hoping to break the moment before I did something foolish.

He nodded then rose.

I joined him.

This time, when he spoke his incantation, I joined in with a harmony spell, magic meant to enhance the magic of others. The result was spectacular, a dizzying array of color…and completely useless. Light danced around the door before fizzling out with what sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

“She’s laughing at us,” I said.

“Definitely laughing at us.”