The Spellshop

But I do know books—and that meant there was nothing she couldn’t know, eventually. That was a magic in and of itself.

Now, what do you need?”

Everything, she wanted to say.

She needed her library back. She needed her parents, even though it had been so many years. She needed to feel safe again. And she needed to have a purpose again. She needed to be needed—and to be wanted.

But what came out of her mouth was: “Food. Seeds. And maybe a chicken?”

Taking a breath, Kiela went with the same line that had worked so well with Larran. “I’d had enough of the city.”

That won a few scattered nods, especially from the centaur

Ah, I like her already. Anyone with a taste for sugar and cinnamon is automatically someone I want to know.”

Hey, you lot, quit staring, you’re making her uncomfortable. Can’t you see she’s about ready to flee? Where are your manners? Haven’t you ever seen a new customer before?”

“Nope,” the boy with goat horns

The falling notes of the harmony were the waves crashing on the sand, while the melody sang of the sailor’s love for the sea.

Unlike the rest of the village, which was a shabby shadow of what it should have been, the bakery was glorious. Scents of fresh bread and honey and cinnamon poured out of its open door and windows, and the islanders …

She remembered how much she used to love the statue of the mermaid at the center of the fountain.

Halfway down, the wind pulling at her hair, she felt unglued,
like a book whose pages had scattered on the floor. She couldn’t shake the sense that if she released the railing, she’d fly into the air like a bird … Which would be ridiculous, she told herself firmly

It was a perfect day: blue sky peeking between the trees, birds warbling to one another, a breeze from the sea that carried the fresh scent of salty air. Within the walls of the library, she’d forgotten the wonder of a summer breeze