The crimson vapor gathered around Lenora slowly, as though the memory itself had become reluctant to return.
Crysha watched the campfire disappear behind a rising wall of red mist.
The bookstore emerged in its place.
The shelves nearest the emergency passage appeared first. Then the wooden floor spread beneath them, followed by row after row of crowded bookcases until the entire shop surrounded the two women.
Many of the titles remained blurred.
Time had taken their names.
Yet other details returned with almost painful clarity—the smell of old parchment, dried herbs hanging behind the counter, dust trapped between shelves, and the faint trace of magical ink lingering throughout the room.
The elderly shopkeeper stood exactly where Lenora remembered him, his hands folded over the counter.
"Now that you are safely inside, what may I help the two of you find?"
Lola stepped away from the concealed entrance while still holding Lenora's hand.
The moment she entered the main part of the shop, however, her fingers loosened.
Lenora noticed.
She also noticed something else.
The bookstore was too dark.
Small magical lanterns hung between the shelves, yet their pale flames barely illuminated the books beneath them. Shadows gathered unnaturally in the corners, spreading farther than the lantern light should have allowed.
There was no wind.
Nothing moved.
And still, the flames flickered as though something enormous were breathing somewhere beyond the shelves.
Lenora slowly turned toward the shopkeeper.
"Did you change something about the store since Lola was here last? The lighting feels different."
The old man gave her a practiced smile.
"I occasionally use an atmosphere spell. Some customers enjoy browsing when the shop feels mysterious."
Lenora looked toward the nearest lantern.
Its flame bent toward the back of the store.
"You deliberately make the building feel haunted because you believe that helps you sell books?"
"Certain stories are much easier to sell when the customer feels as though the story might already be watching them."
Lenora's ears shifted backward.
"So what I am feeling is only part of the spell?"
"That is all it is."
He answered too quickly.
Even decades later, Lenora remembered that.
Beside the campfire, present-day Lenora narrowed her eyes as she watched her younger self turn away from the counter.
"I knew something felt wrong," she told Crysha. "I simply did not understand enough about magic back then to recognize what I was sensing."
Crysha remained focused on the memory.
"Yet you recognized that he was hiding something."
"I recognized that he was nervous. At the time, I thought there was a difference."
Within the memory, Lola had stopped listening to them entirely.
She was walking toward a glass display case at the end of the nearest aisle.
Slowly.
Almost dreamily.
Her pink ears pointed forward while her eyes remained fixed upon something behind the glass.
All of the excitement she had carried through the town had vanished.
Lenora had never seen that expression on her before.
"Lola, what are you looking at?"
The smaller rabbit did not answer.
Lenora followed.
Inside the sealed case rested a single book.
Its cover was black.
Not the worn black of old leather.
Not charcoal.
Not ink.
It possessed the color of an unlit room—the sort of darkness that seemed to continue far beyond the surface rather than ending at the cover.
Fine golden markings covered it.
At first, Lenora thought they were decorative threads.
The longer she stared, however, the more they resembled tiny lines of writing woven so tightly together that no individual word could be separated from the whole.
At the center of the cover rested a red heart.
It did not look painted.
It looked pressed into the book.
Alive.
Seven magical seals surrounded the display case.
Each emitted a faint glow.
Yet whenever that light touched the black cover, it seemed to weaken.
Lola placed both hands against the glass.
"I finally have enough money this time."
She opened the small pouch at her waist and began laying coins on the table beside the case.
One at a time.
Carefully.
She touched every coin as though she had practiced this exact count countless times at home.
"That makes one gold coin. Then two. Three. Four. Five. Six..."
Her fingers touched the final coin.
"And seven."
The shopkeeper's smile disappeared.
Lola turned toward him.
For the first time since entering the store, some of her usual brightness returned.
"I saved everything I earned after paying for the café supplies. You told me the last time I came that it would cost seven gold coins. I finally managed to save enough."
The old man remained behind the counter.
His silence lasted long enough for Lola's smile to begin fading.
"I am afraid I cannot sell it for seven anymore. The price has changed."
Lola's ears slowly lowered.
"What do you mean when you say the price changed? You told me seven gold coins would be enough."
"The book now costs ten."
The excitement disappeared from Lola's face so quickly that anger rose inside Lenora before she could stop it.
Lola looked down at the money she had spent months saving.
"But you promised me that if I brought seven gold coins, you would finally let me buy it."
"That was several months ago. Circumstances are different now."
Lola looked back at him.
"What circumstances changed?"
The shopkeeper's attention shifted toward the sealed case rather than the girl standing in front of him.
"I am no longer certain that I am prepared to part with the book."
Lola stared at the coins.
Her fingers curled around the edge of the table.
Yet she did not argue.
That silence angered Lenora more than shouting would have.
She stepped forward and placed herself between Lola and the shopkeeper.
"You cannot continue raising the price every time she manages to save what you asked for."
The old man's expression hardened.
"You entered my shop through an emergency passage, questioned the magic protecting my shelves, and now you intend to tell me how I should price my own property?"
"I intend to tell you when you are treating someone unfairly."
"This matter has nothing to do with you."
Lenora reached into her pouch.
Three gold coins landed beside Lola's seven.
One.
Then another.
Then the third.
"Now it has something to do with me."
The shopkeeper stared at the complete payment.
Lola looked up at Lenora.
"You really do not have to spend your money on this. I can keep saving."
"I know you can."
Lenora looked toward the old man.
"But if you return after saving three more coins, I suspect he will suddenly decide the book costs twelve."
The shopkeeper flinched.
That reaction answered more than words could have.
Lenora folded her arms.
"How many times have you changed the price?"
He remained silent.
Lola answered for him.
"The first time I asked about it, he said I was too young. Later he told me the book cost two gold coins. When I saved two, he increased it to four. After that it became five. Then seven."
Lenora slowly turned back toward him.
"How long has she been trying to buy this book?"
His shoulders sank.
"She first asked me about it six years ago."
Lenora's ears shot upright.
"You have been doing this to her for six years?"
"I was trying to discourage her from purchasing it."
"By repeatedly convincing her that she could purchase it if she only worked hard enough?"
"I told her plainly that I did not want to sell it. She continued coming back."
"Then explain why."
Lenora pointed toward the display case.
"If the book is dangerous, tell her that. If it carries a curse, tell her what kind. If you believe it should never be opened, then explain why you have spent six years displaying it where she can continue seeing it."
The shopkeeper's expression tightened.
"You speak as though every dangerous thing can simply be destroyed once someone decides it should no longer exist."
"I did not say that."
Lenora took another step toward him.
"I said people deserve the truth before you ask them to fear something."
"You are demanding truths you may regret hearing."
"Then stop speaking around them and tell us what you actually know."
For the first time, the old man looked exhausted rather than angry.
"That book is extraordinary."
Lenora waited.
The old man said nothing else.
Her brow lowered.
"That may genuinely be the worst explanation anyone has given me today."
"It is the only explanation I can safely provide."
Lola stepped around Lenora and returned to the display case.
"I still want to buy it."
The shopkeeper shook his head.
"You do not know what the book contains."
Lola looked toward him.
"Neither do you. You told me years ago that you have never been able to open it."
"That fact should frighten you."
"It frightened me when I was younger."
"And what does it make you feel now?"
Lola rested one hand against the glass.
Her reflection appeared strangely pale beside the darkness of the book.
"Now it makes me feel lonely."
Lenora's anger cooled.
She looked at Lola.
"What do you mean when you say it makes you feel lonely?"
Lola continued staring into the case.
"I do not hear a voice. It is not whispering into my ears, and I do not hear words inside my head."
Her fingers pressed more firmly against the glass.
"But sometimes I know that it wants me to come here."
Lenora's expression changed.
Lola continued.
"There are mornings when I wake up thinking about it before I even open my eyes. Sometimes I can feel it while I am working downstairs at the café."
"How long has that been happening?"
"Since the first time I saw it."
Lenora stared at her.
"You were a child."
"I know I was."
"Did you ever tell Garrett that a sealed magical book was somehow calling you from across town?"
Guilt entered Lola's expression.
"Garrett already worries about me more than anyone should have to worry about another person."
The shopkeeper stepped out from behind the counter.
"You understand my problem now."
Lenora looked toward him.
"I kept hoping she would eventually forget about it. I increased the price because I believed time might accomplish what my warnings could not."
"Then why did you leave the book where she could continue seeing it?"
The question stopped him.
His expression tightened.
For a moment, Lenora thought he might refuse to answer again.
Then he sighed.
"I tried moving it."
Lenora's ears shifted.
"What happened when you moved it?"
"The following morning, it was back inside that case."
Silence descended across the bookstore.
Even the magical lanterns appeared to become still.
Lenora looked toward Lola.
"Perhaps we should leave the store and think about this before anyone opens that case."
Lola wrapped her arms around herself.
"If I leave without it today, I will come back tomorrow."
"Then I will stop you from coming."
"I will wait until you are asleep."
"I will tell Garrett what has been happening."
"Then I will find another way."
There was no anger in Lola's voice.
No childish defiance.
That frightened Lenora far more.
Lola spoke as though she were describing the sunrise.
Something inevitable.
Something no argument could prevent.
Lenora slowly looked back toward the book.
The red heart pulsed once.
She wondered whether she had imagined it.
The shopkeeper approached the display case with a ring of old keys hanging from one hand.
"If I accept those coins, there will be no refunds."
Lola's ears lifted slightly.
The old man still did not unlock the case.
"I need you to listen to me carefully before I touch these seals. If you dislike the book after taking it home, you cannot bring it back. If the story frightens you, you cannot return it to this case and pretend you never opened it. Once it leaves this shop, responsibility for whatever it is becomes yours."
Lenora disliked the way he spoke.
It sounded less like a warning.
More like terms being read aloud.
Lola nodded.
"I understand what you are telling me."
The shopkeeper's expression remained severe.
"You understand that I am warning you. That is not the same as understanding what the warning means."
"I have waited six years for this."
"Waiting six years does not make you prepared."
"It means I have had six years to decide whether I still want it."
The shopkeeper closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he looked toward Lenora.
"And what about you?"
Lenora frowned.
"You supplied the final payment. Do you still believe helping her purchase this book was an act of kindness?"
The question hit harder than she expected.
Lenora looked at Lola's hopeful expression.
Then at the book that had apparently been calling to her since childhood.
"I believe changing the price every time she saved enough was wrong."
The shopkeeper waited.
Lenora continued.
"I believe refusing to explain yourself made the situation worse. I also believe I know far too little about that book to tell you whether helping her buy it was the correct decision."
The old man studied her.
"That is remarkably honest."
His eyes lowered toward the coins.
"Painfully so."
He unlocked the display case.
The glass door opened.
The seven magical seals remained wrapped around the book.
The shopkeeper reached for the first.
It broke.
A pulse of pressure traveled through the wooden floor.
Books trembled on their shelves.
He broke the second seal.
The nearest lantern immediately went dark.
By the fourth, Lenora's ears were ringing.
By the sixth, every instinct in her body was screaming at her to draw her sword, grab Lola, and run as far from the bookstore as possible.
The shopkeeper held the final seal between his fingers.
"This is your final opportunity to change your mind. Once I break this seal, I will consider the decision made."
Lola met his gaze.
"I have spent six years coming back for this book. I still want it."
The final seal snapped.
Every lantern in the bookstore went dark.
A wave of pressure erupted from the display case.
It slammed into the walls hard enough to shake dust from the ceiling.
Lenora moved in front of Lola and reached for her sword.
Golden light exploded across the book before she could draw it.
The markings on the cover began to move.
Not randomly.
They separated.
Rearranged.
And slowly formed letters.
One at a time.
Q
The glass display case cracked.
U
Every book throughout the store opened simultaneously.
I
Pages began fluttering without wind.
N
Shadows crawled upward along the shelves.
T
The red heart beat.
E
Something answered beneath the floorboards.
S
Lola stopped breathing.
S
The shopkeeper stumbled backward.
A
The completed name burned across the cover.
QUINTESSA
The pressure vanished.
Hundreds of books slammed shut at once.
The sound echoed through the shop like a judge delivering a final sentence.
Lola stared at the name.
Her lips parted.
"That is what you are called."
Lenora tightened her grip on Lola's shoulder.
"Lola, after everything that just happened, I need you to explain why you still want this book."
Lola did not pull away.
"I already told you. Something about it keeps calling me."
"That explanation was concerning before every book in the building opened by itself."
Lenora pointed toward the cracked display case.
"It is considerably worse now."
Lola swallowed.
"I know what happened."
"Then this should make you want to get away from it."
"It should."
Lola's eyes remained fixed upon the black cover.
"But it does not."
For the first time, genuine fear appeared in her face.
Beneath it rested something Lenora found even more unsettling.
Recognition.
"It feels like it has been waiting for me."
The shopkeeper carefully removed the book from the damaged case.
It looked no heavier than an ordinary volume.
Both of his arms shook beneath its weight.
He carried it toward the counter and set it beside the ten gold coins.
"Do you still accept the terms of the sale?"
Lenora's ears rose sharply.
"Why did you phrase the question as though you were asking her to enter a contract?"
The shopkeeper ignored her.
Lola stared at the book.
The red heart remained still.
Finally, she nodded.
"I still want to take it home."
The shopkeeper's eyes hardened.
"Then say precisely what you want."
Lola drew a breath.
"I want Quintessa."
The red heart flared.
The shopkeeper gathered all ten coins into his hand.
"Then Quintessa belongs to you."
Lola lifted the book from the counter.
She hugged it against her chest.
The golden markings immediately stopped moving.
The red heart became still.
For the first time since they entered, the bookstore seemed to breathe normally.
Lenora remained uneasy.
But leaving Lola alone with the book felt worse than staying close enough to intervene.
She moved quickly through the magical-study section and selected several volumes concerning lightning magic and water magic.
She paid for them without bargaining.
Her eyes remained on Lola almost the entire time.
Before they left, the shopkeeper addressed the smaller rabbit once more.
"Remember what I told you. If you dislike what you discover inside that book, you cannot return it."
Lola's pink ears twitched.
"I remember what you said."
The old man's face remained solemn.
"You remember the words."
His gaze shifted toward Quintessa.
"Understanding them will come later."
The memory shattered.
Firelight returned so abruptly that Crysha nearly pitched forward.
She caught herself against the log.
"Hold on. I need you to explain something before you continue."
Lenora blinked toward her.
Crysha pointed toward the place where Quintessa had disappeared.
"You stood in the same room as a sealed black book named Quintessa, watched seven magical restraints fail one after another, saw every book in the store open by itself, and then decided to purchase ordinary magic books and continue with your afternoon?"
Lenora's ears lowered slightly.
"When you describe it in that particular order, I admit my decision sounds irresponsible."
"It sounds irresponsible because it was irresponsible."
"I had no idea what Quintessa was."
Crysha threw one hand toward the fading vapor.
"A harmless storybook does not announce its name by threatening an entire bookstore."
"I understand that now."
Crysha stood and began pacing around the fire.
"Are you completely certain the name was Quintessa? Memories distort after enough time. Words can change. Names can become attached to things that originally had no name at all."
Lenora watched her pace.
"The store went completely dark when the seals broke. Every book opened. The pressure nearly forced me to my knees, and the letters appeared one after another directly across the cover."
Her expression hardened.
"I remember the name."
Crysha stopped.
"You said Lola had felt that thing calling to her for six years."
"That is what she told me."
"And after hearing that, you still helped her purchase it."
Lenora's expression tightened.
"I believed the shopkeeper was exploiting her."
Crysha said nothing.
"He increased the price whenever she saved enough," Lenora continued. "He refused to tell her why he would not sell it. He kept the book on display even after realizing she felt drawn to it."
Her ears lowered.
"I thought I was protecting Lola from someone being cruel."
Crysha's voice softened.
"But you were wrong."
Lenora looked into the fire.
"I was."
The words were brief.
Their weight was not.
Silence settled between aunt and niece.
Lenora lowered her gaze.
"If you intend to blame me for what happened, wait until I finish telling you everything."
Crysha studied her.
Lenora's fingers tightened against her dress.
"The story becomes much worse from this point."
Crimson vapor began rising around them again.
This time, it did not resemble a curtain.
It resembled a mouth closing.
The memory resumed outside the bookstore.
Evening had begun settling over the town.
Lenora carried her newly purchased books beneath one arm while Lola hugged Quintessa tightly against her chest.
For several streets, neither spoke.
Eventually, Lola glanced up.
"Why did you decide to help me pay for it?"
Lenora looked at the black book.
Its golden markings were motionless.
Without the pressure of the bookstore surrounding it, Quintessa almost looked ordinary.
"Because the shopkeeper was treating you unfairly. Every time you saved what he asked for, he raised the price again."
Lola looked down at the book.
"He said he was trying to protect me."
"If he wanted to protect you, he should have explained what he believed he was protecting you from."
"What if he truly did not know?"
"Then he should have admitted that he did not know."
Lola thought about the answer.
"You were frightened when he broke the seals."
Lenora did not deny it.
"The magic felt wrong. By the time the final seal broke, I wanted to grab you and leave."
"Then why did you still help me?"
Lenora looked at her.
"Because I believed you deserved to make your own decision."
Lola smiled faintly.
"Thank you for trusting me."
"Do not mistake that for approval."
"I know the difference."
Lenora pointed toward Quintessa.
"If that book tries to bite you, burn it."
Lola's smile grew.
"What happens if it cannot burn?"
"Then hand it to me, and I will continue trying things until I discover something that works."
Lola laughed.
"You sound like Garrett when you become protective."
"I am uncertain whether that comparison should concern me."
"It was meant as a compliment."
The heart on Quintessa's cover gave one silent pulse against Lola's chest.
Neither rabbit noticed.
The memory shifted as they reached the Petal Café.
Several guards were waiting outside.
Lola stopped so abruptly that Lenora nearly collided with her.
The guards spread across the entrance before either of them could turn away.
The officer at the front wore the same royal insignia Lenora had seen earlier among the prince's escort.
He looked toward Lola.
"Lola, the prince has requested your presence. You are required to accompany us."
Lola's arms tightened around Quintessa.
"I already told the prince that I do not want to see him."
"The prince has requested you personally."
"Then you can personally tell him that my answer has not changed."
The officer's expression hardened.
"This is not a matter of what you want."
Lenora stepped forward.
"Then perhaps you can explain what crime she committed that allows you to remove her from her home against her wishes."
The officer's eyes moved over Lenora.
"This situation does not concern you."
Lenora's hand settled near her sword.
"People have been saying that to me all afternoon. It has not prevented me from becoming involved yet."
His hand moved toward his weapon.
Before Lenora could respond, a tired voice came from farther down the street.
"Take your hand away from your sword before you turn an unpleasant conversation into something worse."
Garrett approached in his guard uniform.
Dust covered his boots after hours at the training grounds. A wooden practice weapon rested across his back, and several fresh bruises marked his forearms.
The royal officer turned toward him.
"Garrett, control your guest."
Garrett stopped beside Lenora.
"She asked you a reasonable question."
His usual awkwardness was gone.
"Is Lola under arrest?"
The officer's jaw tightened.
"She is not under arrest."
"Has she been accused of committing a crime?"
"No crime has been reported."
"Then do you have a written order authorizing you to remove a civilian from her home?"
"The prince does not require written authority every time he—"
Garrett interrupted him.
"That was not what I asked."
His voice remained level.
"Do you have an order?"
The officer said nothing.
Garrett pointed toward the road.
"My sister has already told the prince that she has no interest in him. She does not owe him a meeting. She does not owe him a date. She does not owe him another opportunity to ask the same question after she has already answered it."
The officer's expression twisted.
"You are risking your position over a beast girl."
Garrett did not hesitate.
"She is my sister."
"She is not truly your blood."
Lola flinched.
Garrett's expression turned cold.
"If you intend to insult my sister, say it again while looking directly at me."
The officer stared at him.
Then reconsidered.
After several tense seconds, he signaled his men to withdraw.
"The prince will hear about this."
Garrett stepped aside.
"Tell him every word."
His gaze sharpened.
"Especially the part where Lola said no."
The guards departed.
Garrett waited until they disappeared down the street before turning around.
The severity left his face immediately.
"Did they hurt either of you?"
Lola shook her head.
"They only tried to make me go with them. Lenora stayed beside me."
Lenora finally released the hilt of her sword.
"Thank you for making them leave without forcing me to become involved."
Garrett looked toward her hand.
"You were approximately three seconds from becoming extremely involved."
Lenora's mouth twitched.
"I would estimate two."
Garrett stared at her.
Lenora allowed the smile to appear.
"I was making a joke."
Garrett sighed.
"I am beginning to understand why Lola enjoys having you around."
He unlocked the café door and held it open.
Lola slipped past them immediately.
Garrett looked toward the black object she held.
"Lola, what did you buy?"
She glanced back.
"It is a book I have wanted for a very long time."
Garrett raised an eyebrow.
"That is the happiest explanation I have ever heard someone attempt to hide behind a calm sentence."
Lola hurried upstairs.
A door slammed.
A lock clicked.
Garrett looked toward the ceiling.
"I suppose she intends to read until morning."
Lenora stepped into the dark café.
"She has apparently been trying to purchase that particular book for six years."
Garrett stopped.
"She has been saving for the same book for six years?"
"That was almost exactly my reaction when I learned about it."
"What book did she buy?"
Lenora glanced toward the ceiling.
"It is called Quintessa."
Garrett waited.
Lenora offered nothing more.
Eventually, he shrugged.
"I will ask her about it tomorrow. If she has waited six years to finally own it, she probably wants a little time alone with it tonight."
Upstairs, a page turned.
Neither of them noticed that Lola had not been in her room long enough to open the cover.
With the café closed, the downstairs dining room felt strangely peaceful.
Garrett lit several lamps while Lenora placed her new magic books on one of the tables.
She expected him to return home or resume his work.
Instead, he disappeared into the kitchen.
A few minutes later, he returned carrying two steaming cups.
"I thought you deserved something warm after allowing Lola to drag you across half the town."
Lenora looked toward him.
"Did she already tell you what happened?"
"She did not need to. Your expression explained enough."
Garrett placed one cup in front of Lenora and sat across from her.
For a while, they spoke about ordinary things.
Garrett explained which districts were safest for newcomers, which merchants had a reputation for cheating beastfolk, and which streets flooded whenever heavy rain struck the kingdom.
Lenora told him about the books she had purchased and her interest in combining wind magic with acceleration techniques.
Garrett leaned forward.
"Are you trying to make yourself faster?"
"I am already fast. I want to reach a point where watching me move becomes difficult."
Garrett stared at her.
"That explanation is significantly more terrifying."
"It should be."
He smiled.
"What exactly did you do before arriving in this kingdom?"
Lenora rested her fingers against the warm cup.
"I fought."
Garrett waited.
When she offered nothing else, he laughed softly.
"That answer somehow managed to cover almost nothing."
"It covered the important part."
"Were you a soldier?"
"I have fought beside armies when circumstances required it."
"Then perhaps you were a mercenary."
"When I needed money."
"An adventurer?"
Lenora's nose wrinkled.
"I have never liked that word. Adventurers sound like people who wake up excited because a monster might chase them before breakfast."
Garrett's smile widened.
"And you do not?"
"I wake up expecting the monster."
Garrett studied her.
"You are completely serious."
"Most of the time."
A smile slowly appeared on his face.
"Lola told me you were looking for work. I assumed she meant you wanted something here at the café."
"She offered me a position."
Garrett leaned forward.
"What did you tell her?"
"I shouted at her."
Garrett laughed so suddenly that he nearly spilled his tea.
"You actually shouted at Lola?"
"I apologized immediately afterward."
"That explains a great deal."
Lenora narrowed her eyes.
"What did she do?"
"She spent most of the morning asking whether preparing food could qualify as combat training."
Lenora covered part of her face.
"Please tell me she did not."
"She absolutely did. At one point, she suggested carrying three trays at the same time might improve your balance."
Despite herself, Lenora laughed.
Garrett leaned back.
He watched her with an expression that made warmth creep into her cheeks.
Lenora noticed.
"What are you staring at?"
Garrett looked away for half a second.
"I was thinking Lola was right."
"About what?"
"She likes having you here."
Lenora lowered her eyes toward her cup.
"She told me she meant it in a sisterly way."
"That sounds exactly like Lola."
His voice softened.
"She has always wanted a larger family, but she becomes nervous around people she does not know. The fact that she asked you to remain here means she trusts you."
"I agreed to help her two days every week."
"I heard about that."
Lenora looked back at him.
"Does that arrangement bother you?"
Garrett answered immediately.
"Not at all. I am grateful."
Lenora seemed surprised by the certainty in his voice.
Garrett continued.
"She has been happier since you arrived. Today was the first time in months that she willingly left the café without asking me to accompany her."
His expression softened.
"Whatever you did, thank you."
"I did not do very much. She dragged me through town, purchased an extremely dangerous-looking book, and led me through a secret tunnel inside a wall."
"You stayed with her through all of it."
"That was the least I could do."
"Perhaps it feels that way to you."
Garrett looked toward the ceiling.
"To Lola, it matters."
The sincerity unsettled Lenora more than obvious flirting would have.
She had grown accustomed to people wanting her strength.
Fearing her blood.
Judging her family.
Simple gratitude felt unfamiliar.
Lenora lifted the cup.
Before drinking, she inspected the color.
Smelled it.
Tilted it toward the lantern.
Then stirred the tea to make certain nothing had settled at the bottom.
Garrett watched without interrupting.
Eventually, curiosity won.
"Is checking a drink like that some kind of rabbit custom?"
Lenora froze.
"What did you ask?"
Garrett gestured toward the cup.
"Lola does several things I assumed were traditional rabbit habits, but I am beginning to suspect she simply enjoys confusing me. I wondered whether inspecting the drink was something similar."
Lenora slowly lowered the cup.
"It is not a custom."
Garrett immediately noticed the change in her voice.
"You do not have to explain anything."
Lenora stared at the tea.
"Someone put something in my drink once."
The humor disappeared from Garrett's face.
"I am sorry that happened to you."
"You were not responsible."
"I know. But I asked the question carelessly enough that you felt you needed to justify the habit."
"You only asked what I was doing."
"And now I understand why."
Garrett reached toward the table.
He took Lenora's cup and exchanged it with his untouched one.
"Both came from the same pot, but you can have mine instead."
He pointed toward the kitchen.
"The kettle is still there. If you would feel safer pouring a fresh cup yourself, I will not be offended."
Lenora stared at him.
"You believe me?"
Garrett frowned.
"That someone hurt you?"
"That is what I meant."
"Why would I assume you were lying?"
Lenora became silent.
Most people wanted details.
Proof.
An explanation of what she had done wrong.
Garrett asked for none of them.
He simply pushed the untouched cup closer.
Lenora finally drank.
The tea was warm.
Sweet.
Slightly spiced.
For the first time that evening, some of the tension left her shoulders.
A voice whispered inside her mind.
He is not the one.
Lenora's eyes moved toward the empty counter.
Garrett followed her gaze.
"Did you hear something?"
"I thought Lola might have come downstairs."
Above them, another page turned.
Garrett glanced toward the ceiling.
"At this rate, she is going to finish the entire book tonight."
The crest beneath Lenora's clothing began warming.
She adjusted herself in the chair.
Garrett noticed immediately.
"Are you uncomfortable?"
"I am beginning to feel a little strange, but I do not think it is anything serious."
Garrett raised an eyebrow.
"That is the second time today you have tried to convince me you are fine while looking very much like you are not."
Lenora stared at him.
"You have been counting?"
"I am a guard. Observing suspicious behavior is part of my profession."
Lenora folded her arms.
"You walked directly into a support beam yesterday."
Garrett's expression became offended.
"The beam moved."
Lenora laughed.
The warmth in her crest sharpened.
He is not the one.
She ignored it.
Garrett rested his arms across the table.
"Lola also told me you were considering remaining here longer than originally planned."
"I have not decided how long I will stay."
"Is there somewhere you need to return to?"
The question quieted her.
There were places she could return to.
That did not mean any of them felt like home.
"I honestly do not know."
Garrett nodded.
No pressure.
No demand.
"You can stay here while you decide. Lola would be delighted, and most of the rooms remain empty anyway."
Lenora looked directly at him.
"And what about you?"
Garrett blinked.
"What would you like to know?"
"Would you want me to stay?"
Color slowly entered his face.
"I certainly would not object."
Lenora smiled slightly.
"That was an extremely careful answer."
"I am trying very hard not to stand too quickly and injure myself."
Her smile widened.
The crest burned harder.
He is not the one.
A pulling sensation formed beneath the mark.
It felt as though an invisible hand had caught the back of her clothing and was trying to drag her away from the table.
Lenora pressed both feet firmly against the floor.
Garrett continued.
"You carry yourself differently from most travelers. You watch every entrance. You inspect anything you eat or drink. You always choose a seat where nobody can approach from behind."
"Those are old habits."
"You also seem considerably more mature than most people who look your age."
Lenora raised one eyebrow.
"Are you attempting to ask a woman how old she is?"
Garrett winced.
"I was attempting to approach the subject carefully."
"You failed."
"I seem to do that often around you."
The admission made Lenora's heart skip.
Pain immediately followed.
He is not the one.
Lenora pressed two fingers against her temple.
Garrett leaned forward.
"Are you certain this is only a headache?"
"I believe that is what it is."
"I can bring you some water."
Lenora answered before she could reconsider.
"Please stay here."
Garrett stopped moving.
For one delicate moment, the entire café seemed to hold its breath.
Then he smiled.
"I can do that."
The whisper became a command.
HE IS NOT THE ONE.
The words appeared inside the steam rising from Lenora's cup.
She blinked.
They disappeared.
Garrett continued talking.
"If we are wisely avoiding the subject of your age, perhaps I can ask something safer. What do you actually enjoy doing when you are not studying magic or threatening innocent furniture?"
Lenora managed a faint smile.
"A woman should never be expected to reveal her age."
Garrett stared at her.
"That did not answer the question I just asked."
"It distracted you from the question you asked before it."
"So that was deliberate."
"Everything can become a strategy when necessary."
The words appeared again.
This time across the dark window behind Garrett.
HE IS NOT THE ONE.
Lenora's smile vanished.
The letters disappeared when she focused on them.
Garrett turned toward the window.
"What are you looking at?"
"I thought I saw movement outside."
He looked back at her.
"You answered that remarkably quickly."
The crest pulled harder.
Lenora's chair scraped backward.
She had not moved it.
Garrett looked down.
Lenora grabbed the edge of the table.
Words appeared beneath her fingers.
Carved into the wood between one heartbeat and the next.
HE IS NOT THE ONE.
Then more appeared.
Across the counter.
The walls.
Every empty table.
Across overturned chairs.
Between the floorboards.
HE IS NOT THE ONE.
HE IS NOT THE ONE.
HE IS NOT THE ONE.
Garrett rose slowly.
"Lenora, something is wrong. You have gone completely pale."
She looked toward him.
A final message formed above his head.
Enormous.
Furious.
HE IS NOT THE ONE!
Pain ripped across Lenora's lower back.
She gasped.
Her body nearly fell from the chair.
Garrett rushed around the table.
When he reached toward her, the invisible force beneath the crest pulled Lenora away so violently that she stumbled.
"Please do not touch me!"
Garrett stopped immediately.
The hurt and confusion in his expression struck her at once.
Lenora forced herself to breathe.
"I am sorry. I did not mean to shout at you. This is not happening because of anything you did."
"Then please tell me what is happening."
"I cannot explain it because I do not understand it myself."
"Are you hurt?"
Lenora swallowed.
"I am hurting, but I do not know what is causing it."
The words spread over Garrett now.
Across his face.
His uniform.
His body.
HE IS NOT THE ONE.
Lenora squeezed her eyes shut.
"I am exhausted. I think I should go upstairs and sleep."
Garrett clearly did not believe sleep explained what he had just seen in her expression.
But he respected the distance she had created.
"If going upstairs is what you need, I will not stop you."
He reached into his uniform and removed a small card.
A crest had been stamped into it.
A sword crossing a dark star.
"I planned to give you this before you went upstairs."
Lenora cautiously accepted it.
Garrett pointed toward the insignia.
"The Special Operations Guild handles assignments ordinary guilds refuse. Unidentified monsters, missing patrols, magical disturbances, and anything requiring someone capable of defending herself without panicking."
Lenora looked at the card.
"You truly believe they would accept someone like me?"
"I believe they would be foolish not to evaluate you."
"You barely know anything about me."
"I know you could have drawn your sword on Barrett today and deliberately chose not to."
Garrett held her gaze.
"I know you placed yourself between Lola and armed royal guards without making her more frightened."
His voice softened.
"And I know that even after somebody taught you never to trust a drink, you are still willing to sit at a table with another person."
Lenora's fingers tightened around the card.
His words reached somewhere deeper than he realized.
"Tell them I sent you," Garrett continued. "They will at least give you an evaluation."
Lenora lowered her gaze toward the insignia.
"Thank you for thinking I deserve the opportunity."
"Get some rest tonight. If you still feel unwell tomorrow, I know a healer who can examine you."
The words surrounding him pulsed.
HE IS NOT THE ONE.
Lenora forced herself to look through them.
"Good night, Garrett. Thank you for the tea."
Garrett gave her a small smile.
"Good night, Lenora. I hope you feel better after some sleep."
She turned away before he could see how badly her hands were trembling.
The upstairs hallway was dark.
Lola's door remained locked.
As Lenora passed it, she heard a page turning on the other side.
She stopped.
"Lola, are you still awake?"
The sound stopped.
Lenora waited.
No answer came.
She lifted one hand to knock.
Pain surged through her crest.
The invisible pull dragged her one step toward her own room.
Lenora gritted her teeth.
"Lola, I am going to bed. If anything about that book frightens you, call for me immediately. I will be right across the hallway."
Silence answered.
Then another page turned.
Lenora entered her room.
She closed the door.
The message had followed her.
It covered the walls in different sizes.
Some faint.
Others carved so deeply into the memory that even Crysha could see them from beside the campfire.
HE IS NOT THE ONE.
REMEMBER YOUR CONTRACT.
REMEMBER.
Lenora pressed both hands against her lower back.
"Remember what? What exactly are you trying to make me remember?"
The burning continued.
No answer came.
Lenora placed Garrett's guild card beside her sword.
She removed her boots.
Then lowered herself onto the narrow bed.
At the campfire, present-day Lenora watched quietly.
"I convinced myself it was connected to the headache," she told Crysha. "I thought if I went to sleep, the burning and the words would disappear."
Crysha's eyes remained fixed upon the memory.
"You had already heard the crest warn you about Garrett earlier that afternoon."
"I had."
"And you still tried to convince yourself it was nothing."
Lenora's ears lowered.
"Sometimes believing something is nothing feels safer than discovering what it actually is."
Within the memory, the younger Lenora pulled the blanket over herself.
She closed her eyes.
The words gathered above her bed.
HE IS NOT THE ONE.
Their edges softened.
The letters stretched.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Lenora opened her eyes.
And found herself falling upward.
Her body floated through an endless void while countless spheres drifted around her.
Some contained light.
Others held broken silhouettes.
Distant landscapes.
Fragments of lives that disappeared whenever Lenora attempted to focus on them.
Chains larger than castle walls moved through the darkness without making a sound.
Lenora stopped breathing.
She recognized the place.
She had seen it once before.
When she died.
"This is the Soul Seam."
Her voice traveled in every direction.
The words returned as distant echoes.
Soul Seam...
Soul Seam...
Soul Seam...
Lenora reached toward her sword.
Nothing was there.
She looked down.
The crest beneath her clothing glowed faintly.
Its light trembled.
Then the nearest sphere stopped moving.
Its light disappeared.
Another followed.
Then another.
Hundreds more.
Darkness spread outward in an expanding circle until Lenora was the only illuminated thing left inside the Soul Seam.
She turned slowly.
"Who brought me back here? If this is connected to my contract, then show yourself and explain what you want from me."
No one answered.
The final sphere went dark.
Lenora could no longer see her own hands.
Something moved in front of her.
It was not a body.
Not a shadow.
It was something so enormous that the darkness itself seemed incapable of containing it.
A pair of eyes opened.
Lenora froze.
They were close enough that she could see her own reflection inside them.
Small.
Weaponless.
Floating completely alone.
The eyes did not blink.
They did not search for her.
Whatever they belonged to had already known exactly where Lenora would appear.
At the campfire, the crimson memory began trembling.
Crysha instinctively leaned forward.
Inside the Soul Seam, Lenora heard something inhale.
Deep.
Slow.
Ancient.
Then the enormous eyes narrowed.
And the memory went black.