Books--we love them more than most people can understand. Hence, we write the stories we have tumbling in our head and hope others will enjoy our tale telling.
Linda the Librarian loved books so much she converted her home into a library... just for her own enjoyment. Yet, as many bibliophiles are, she was willing to share with anyone who would just ask for the opportunity to escape into another world as placed on the written page.
Excerpt from previous book 'The Lending Library':
Ailidh wobbled precariously on her high heels.
Kayne smirked. “Having problems, dear?”
“Shut up!” she snapped. “I need to practice this until I get it right.
We don’t really have many options left open to us, Kayne. You had better
practice, too.”
He stopped and steadied himself on the railing of the porch. He
wriggled his feet out of the closed leather shoes that encased them.
“I don’t know why you insist we wear these ridiculous articles of
clothing. This long-sleeved shirt cuts off the circulation to my hands not to
mention the lack of space for my wings and these long pants chap my legs.
“Worst of all, are these horrendous leather shoes. They pinch and make
my feet swell. Why do we have to go through all of this? I don’t understand.”
Kayne grumbled.
Ailidh sighed and slowly, patiently
explained to him, once again, why they were practicing.
“Remember last Wednesday when Keegan and Connal lost their dwelling?
The sound of their tree crashing to the ground was deafening. The Others are
moving out more and more. We will lose our own home if we don’t act first. Now,
put your shoes back on and walk for just five more minutes.”
Kayne wrestled his shirt off and threw it to the porch’s deck. He
pulled the long pants off his body and left them in a heap next to the shirt.
Bending forward, he touched his toes gingerly as he gradually unfurled his
lacey wings. Slowly, he pulled himself to an upright position. Shoulders back,
wings completely expanded, he lifted his 18-inch form to its full height and
looked at Ailidh defiantly.
“I don’t need to fit into the Others world. They need to adjust
themselves to my world and leave us alone.”
Ailidh, teetering, grabbed the lower railing of the porch and shook
her head.
“Kayne. Most of the Others don’t even know we exist. How can they
adjust to something they don’t even believe?”
“They adjust to animals, don’t they?”
“The animals chose to be seen. We did not. Remember? Our great, great
grandfathers took a vote and decided we would endanger ourselves more if we
continued to be visible to the Others. At that time, they didn’t have all the
machinery they have now. They moved into our lands at a slower pace. Now, put
on the clothes and try to adjust.”
“No.” Kayne kicked at the clothing on the porch. “I’m going to get a
magazine and a cup of coffee. You can stand here and practice day and night for
all I care.”
He turned on his heel and lifted himself off the ground with his
delicate appendages. He lazily winged his way into the open window of the
building marked Lending Library.
Hovering until he landed on the balls of his feet, he folded the wings
tight to his torso and walked to the corner of the building signed Coffee Shop.
He sat in a small chair snugged close to the matching table. Sliding the
Newsweek someone had tossed on the table toward him, he flipped through the
pages. Minimized for easier handling, the magazine was still large enough to
require both of his hands to turn the pages. A diminutive nymph in a waitress
uniform with a “Chrissy” nametag took his order for a latte. Ten minutes later,
she returned with the steaming liquid in a cup.
“Thanks Chrissy,” Kayne picked up the cup carefully and took a sip.
“No problem, Kayne,” she had a surprisingly deep voice for a nymph.
“Where’s Ailidh?”
Kayne jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the front porch.
“Practicing,” he grunted.
“Oh,” Chrissy mopped the table next to Kayne’s with a wet rag then
flew daintily to the kitchen with the dirty cups and saucers she’d picked up.
One of the resident dryads of the valley, Chrissy was living in the tree behind
the Lending Library. Her home across the meadow had been one of the first
destroyed.
Ailidh is right. Kayne
frowned at the silent admission. The Others were invading his world with
frightening swift, uncaring swaths into the forestlands. Soon there wouldn’t be
an Ancient tree left. While, at a glance, their movements seemed random, even
careless, Kayne had noted a pattern, albeit haphazard, to their actions. Months
earlier he’d watched from a safe distance as the huge screeching yellow
machines ripped up his ancient wood friends and squashed their bodies beneath
armored tracks. He could never be sure whether the squealing had been the old
trees or the vicious yellow machines. After the first occasion of watching as
they destroyed a sea of Ancients, Kayne had left on shaky wings and flown home.
Ailidh was furious at him, thinking he’d been with his friends drinking
honeysuckle wine. He couldn’t stop throwing up long enough to tell her what
he’d seen.
When the thunder and growl of the angry yellow tree destroyers rumbled
over their living room ceiling several months later, Kayne sat Ailidh down and
explained what had happened that fateful night.
He took her soft, dainty hand in his and looked into her sparkling
moss green eyes.
“We must be prepared to move from our home.
Ailidh’s exquisite wings trembled. “Why?”
The earth near the entrance to their home groaned and bits of dirt
drizzled from around the doorway.
Kayne pointed up. “That—that—monster will reach into our home and
pluck us up with no regard whatsoever. I’ve seen it rip out the Ancient trees
in the glen over by Drystan’s home.
“The night you thought me so drunk I could not speak, I was ill from
watching The Others kill the Ancient trees and destroy homes of our friends. I
just couldn’t stop being sick long enough to explain to you. When I finally got
the horror of that picture out of my mind and stopped throwing up, you’d gone
to bed--angry. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Ailidh’s face blanched and she slumped to the cloth-covered chair
Kayne had so carefully carved from a branch the Ancient tree had gifted them.
“Wh-wh-why? We’ve not harmed them. Why do they want to rip out our
homes and make us move?”
“I don’t know my love, but we’ve got to find a way to fight back or
we’ll be next.”
Kayne had soothed Ailidh’s fears that night, but she began a campaign
to move to Faetown and get out of the meadow and woods they called home.
Kayne sighed. She’d get her way and they’d move, but he wasn’t going
without a fight.
He felt a soft
rush of air caress his cheek and looked up to find Ailidh alighting gently on
her bare feet, her toes inflamed and angry looking.
He nodded to her.
“Better get the Librarian to wrap those before they swell too much. Wouldn’t
want to put your shoes in the rubbish
bin.” Licking several fingers, he turned the page, the crinkle of the slick
paper echoing off the wall of books.
When his smarmy comment met with silence, Kayne looked up to see a
large tear meandering down Ailidh’s cheek. He dropped the magazine to the table
and hung his head pushing out air between his lips. He’d done it again. He’d
hurt the one woman who put up with his attitude and still loved him. Most women
of the Fae would have kicked out his boastful self long ago not tolerating his
pride and pomposity. Not Ailidh. She’d just look at him with those enormous
sparkling moss green eyes, pat his hand and kiss his cheek. Kayne, unlike most
Fae men, preferred one mate and one mate only. He never had understood the need
to wing from inviting mossy bed to inviting mossy bed.
He reached out and grabbed the wayward drop heading toward the fine
line of Ailidh’s jaw.
“I’m sorry my love. Let’s see if the Librarian has something to ease
the pain.” Kayne lifted himself from the chair and fluttered to the back of the
building.
On the door was a sign. It read: “Rap loudly. Human hearing.”
Kayne pounded on the door, settled himself on the floor, and waited.
Slowly the big door opened; before him stood a giant of a person. He
sucked in a deep breath and felt his wings tremble.
Pulling up a stool, the giant Librarian sat. She was nearly at his eye
level. A gentle smile touched her lips and crinkled her gray eyes. The essence
of wild roses swirled lightly on the air.
“Kayne. How can I help you?”
Her soft voice purred quietly to his keen hearing.
Kayne opened his mouth but nothing came out. He coughed, stepped back
then winged himself up a foot. At this level, he was looking in to the kind
eyes.
“Ailidh… Ailidh has been practicing with those high heel shoes, and
now her feet are swollen and hurting. Do you have something that would help?”
Linda thought for a moment. “I do believe I have something to ease her
pain. I also have some Epson salts you can take with you so she can use them
tonight. Wait here.”
Rising from the step stool slowly, she walked to the back of the small
room and opened a cupboard on the wall. Taking out a box and a bottle, the Librarian
returned to the doorway.
“May I come out and administer to her?” Gray eyes questioned as she
stood with the medicine in her hands.
Kayne hesitated. Ailidh liked the Librarian, but he
still didn’t trust her. After all, she was one of the Others. He turned his
head and saw his mate trying to stifle the large tears meandering down her
cheeks by swiping at them with the back of her hand.
“Yes. Please. She’s in such pain.”
Linda was surprised. Very few of the wee folk had become comfortable
with her presence, Ailidh was the exception, so getting their permission to
move about her own home was necessary if she was to keep them coming into her
library.
“Lead the way, Kayne.” She wasn’t above playing to his male vanity.
As they got closer to the tiny faerie, Ailidh straightened in her
chair and sipped from her coffee drink. She was a bit startled to see the
Librarian out in the building. She didn’t come out in the daytime for fear of
scaring away the wee folk that gathered. Something must really be wrong for her
to take such measures.
“Librarian.” The sweet sound of Ailidh’s voice carried to the odd pair
approaching her.
“Ailidh. How are you today?”
“I’m well, thank you. What brings you out of your room?”
“Kayne asked me to see to your feet. He mentioned you were suffering
and asked if I could help."
Ailidh shot Kayne a glare. “My toes are swollen and hurt a bit but
they will heal without help, thank you.
Linda could sense a fight brewing and opted to take the diplomatic way
out.
“Well, let me give you some of my healing helpers. Use them if you
like and if not, hang on to them. At some point in the future, they might come
in handy. These little orange pills here relieve pain from the inside out,
small dose aspirin. I believe you have this remedy in a leaf you brew; this is
just easier to take and not quite so bitter. Just swallow them, don’t chew, and
in about 20 minutes you should feel some relief from the aching.”
Linda gently shook the box of Epsom salts.
“These salts work if you place them in hot water and soak your feet.
They’re called Epsom salts and can be quite handy for those days when you’ve
trekked too far. I’d be more than happy to get a tub so you could start the
healing now.”
Ailidh looked at Kayne’s worried face and the concern on the
Librarian’s face. She pushed out a sigh.
“All right. If it will make both of you happy...” She watched relief
flood the faces of the two people she cared about the most. If this would stop
her feet from throbbing… she’d try anything.
“I’ll get Chrissy to give you a hand.” Linda took a step and
hesitated. Turning, she asked, “Is that all right with you?”
Ailidh nodded.
Linda trod lightly on the old oaken floor. As she came close to the
kitchen, she stopped, waiting until all her clothing had stopped rustling. She
cleared her throat and closed her eyes. She’d made an agreement with the small
ones to ask permission before peering directly at them—it was considered polite
in their realm.
“Chrissy?” Linda whispered.
“Yes, Librarian?”
“May I speak with you?”
“Of, course, Librarian. Let me dry my hands and I’ll join you.”
Linda sighed quietly. These wee ones had taught her to slow her world
down. It was a lesson she greatly valued.
The whirl of wings wisped past her face and she scrunched her eyes
tight.
“Please, Librarian. I thought we had agreed we would not stand on the
formalities. Open your eyes. I wish to see your storm-cloud colored eyes.”
Chrissy maneuvered herself to sit on the hand railing that separated
the kitchen from the main floor.
Linda relaxed her features and allowed her eyes to open; before her
sat the tiny nymph. She had clad herself in a fifties-style, carhop uniform,
ingeniously made from the petals of daisies and roses.
Linda allowed a smile to touch her lips. “You’re looking very…
official today. Any particular reason?”
Chrissy shifted her position. “Yes, I was reading on the Internet that
servers used to get something called tips. Every server I saw had a uniform so
I decided I like this style best and put it together. Maybe I’ll get some
tips.”
Linda was finding it very hard not to laugh aloud. “Well, Chrissy, I
don’t really think you have a need for tips.”
Chrissy pushed her lower lip out and furrowed her brow into a
thunderous frown. “Why?”
Linda caught herself before a grin covered her face. “Because tips are
paper money customers leave if they think the server has done a good job. Since
you live here in the forest and most of your housing, food, and needs are met
without having to buy anything, paper money doesn’t really have any value, does
it?”
Chrissy’s lip pulled in and she smoothed her brow. Her face took on a
quizzical look and she tilted her head. “I think you’re right. Well, this
uniform would be wilted by the end of the day, anyway. I’ll just wear my
regular clothes tomorrow. Was there something you needed, Librarian?”
Linda allowed herself a small chuckle. “Yes. Ailidh has injured her
feet, and I wish to get a pan large enough for her to fit in both her feet.
I’ll need to have water warm enough to melt these salt crystals and then a
towel available for her to dry her feet.”
The little nymph narrowed her eyes and puzzled the situation. “I know
there are some large pans in the very back of the cupboard. Will you come in
and pull them out?”
Linda hid her surprise. She never entered the kitchen when Chrissy was
working. Her size terrified the little nymph and it was, again, one of the
agreements they had made. Moving very slowly, Linda entered the tiny room. She
crouched on her knees and opened a very tiny door. In the back was a small,
quart size, sauté pan which she was sure was the pot the little nymph meant.
Using two fingers to slide out the pan, she pulled it from cupboard and placed
it on the top.
“Is this the one you meant?”
Chrissy buzzed into the room and looked at the pan. “Yes. I’ll warm
some water in it in the microwave…”
“Uh, don’t do that. The one thing that won’t work in the microwave is
metal. If you’ll allow me, I’ll find something plastic…”
Chrissy smacked her forehead. “Librarian, don’t worry. I’ll just have
to use my magic. How silly of me to forget heating water is one of the first
things we’re taught. So, if you’ll leave?”
Linda rose slowly from the floor and feeling somewhat like a pretzel,
backed out of the small space. She rolled up to her full 4 ft. 8 in. height. It
felt good to stretch her cramped muscles.
“I’ll leave this to you, Chrissy.”
Turning she noted Ailidh and Kayne deep in conversation. Something
about the body language of the two wee ones was very wrong. It made Linda
think. These two were not the only faeries to come into the library and whisper
in frightened, muted tones. Linda was determined to find out what was causing
such consternation among the Fae community. From the trembling of their wings,
she needed to move fast or her tiny folk would be gone, and Linda would be
alone with her library full of books.
