said. “Do you have any new Verrougian novels? Along the lines of A Courtesan and a Gentleman ?”
He sighed, not at all imperceptibly or good-naturedly, and moved to one of the shelves, taking down a book with a deep-red cover. “Lousan’s latest. Isabella. I’ve heard it is very much like A Courtesan and a Gentleman .”
“Then that is exactly what we want,” the girl in blue said, taking coins from her purse. Alander wrapped the book in paper, and with one last giggle, they left, swinging their little purses.
Alander sank back in his chair, tapping the cover of his book with a finger. He glanced at the counter, where a piece of paper lay, Alan written quite clearly at the top. Esmerine noticed it said, between ink spatters, “Sweep the floors” and “Fix mess in poetry.” He snatched it up, frowned, and put it down again.
“People are so tedious,” he said. He turned back to her. “You won’t get very far on your own. But I’m very busy working here at the shop.”
It didn’t seem the best idea to ask for his help just now, but she needed him. “Could I do anything in the shop? In exchange for your help?” Her eyes roamed back to the books lining the walls. They enticed her with their spines—some tall and promising pictures, some crumbling and requiring a delicate touch, some just the right size to hold in a hand, with pretty gilt titles.
He waved an almost scolding finger. “Oh, there’s nothing you can do. Certainly you have no experience in a bookshop.” He leaned his head into his fingers and pinched his forehead. “What am I saying? I can’t very well refuse to help an old friend, can I?”
Such reluctance. No, indeed, she was a burden, and she couldn’t bear that. She got to her feet as fast as she could. “Never mind, Alander, I can find Dosia myself. I never expected to come across you in the first place, after all.” She stalked to the door, her movements jerky, but the pain wasn’t just in her feet now. She’d been naive to think of him all these years, she saw that now, but—
He was on his feet in a flash, sweeping behind her. “Esmerine—wait.”
“I don’t need your pity. I didn’t come looking for you, like I said. I just figured it was worth asking. Maybe I don’t have experience, but I would never ask you to help me without offering something in return.” She clenched the skirts that clung to her legs and hindered her steps. She was letting pride get in the way of looking for Dosia, and that wouldn’t do, but none of this was going as she had planned.
“No, I’ll look for Dosia,” he said. “Tell me where I might find her.”
“I don’t know,” Esmerine said, still upset. Even now, he didn’t sound apologetic for taking such a snappish tone. “We thought she’d gone to the big house on the point. The one made from tan stones that looks like a castle. But the humans there denied they’d ever seen her. Now we’ve heard a rumor that her husband has taken her to mountain country.”
“I know the house,” he said, reaching for his hat. “I’ll go investigate.”
“You don’t have to go this very moment! Anyway, I wondered if I could hire a cart to take me there.” She didn’t want to send Alander alone. He didn’t seem especially passionate about Dosia’s fate, and she feared he wouldn’t ask the right questions.
“I ought to see what I can find out before you bother with a cart. Don’t worry. I imagine they’ll be more likely to answer me than a mermaid. It shouldn’t take more than an hour, and Swift will return before I do.”
“Thank you, Alander.” Even if he didn’t really want to help her, she meant it heartily.
“It’s nothing.” He paused. “You can call me Alan now. Humans have first and last names from birth, so I broke mine into two, Alan Dare. Fandarsee don’t take last names until they’ve chosen a profession. And only my father calls me Alander anyway.”
“Alan, then. Or should I say Mr.
He sighed, not at all imperceptibly or good-naturedly, and moved to one of the shelves, taking down a book with a deep-red cover. “Lousan’s latest. Isabella. I’ve heard it is very much like A Courtesan and a Gentleman .”
“Then that is exactly what we want,” the girl in blue said, taking coins from her purse. Alander wrapped the book in paper, and with one last giggle, they left, swinging their little purses.
Alander sank back in his chair, tapping the cover of his book with a finger. He glanced at the counter, where a piece of paper lay, Alan written quite clearly at the top. Esmerine noticed it said, between ink spatters, “Sweep the floors” and “Fix mess in poetry.” He snatched it up, frowned, and put it down again.
“People are so tedious,” he said. He turned back to her. “You won’t get very far on your own. But I’m very busy working here at the shop.”
It didn’t seem the best idea to ask for his help just now, but she needed him. “Could I do anything in the shop? In exchange for your help?” Her eyes roamed back to the books lining the walls. They enticed her with their spines—some tall and promising pictures, some crumbling and requiring a delicate touch, some just the right size to hold in a hand, with pretty gilt titles.
He waved an almost scolding finger. “Oh, there’s nothing you can do. Certainly you have no experience in a bookshop.” He leaned his head into his fingers and pinched his forehead. “What am I saying? I can’t very well refuse to help an old friend, can I?”
Such reluctance. No, indeed, she was a burden, and she couldn’t bear that. She got to her feet as fast as she could. “Never mind, Alander, I can find Dosia myself. I never expected to come across you in the first place, after all.” She stalked to the door, her movements jerky, but the pain wasn’t just in her feet now. She’d been naive to think of him all these years, she saw that now, but—
He was on his feet in a flash, sweeping behind her. “Esmerine—wait.”
“I don’t need your pity. I didn’t come looking for you, like I said. I just figured it was worth asking. Maybe I don’t have experience, but I would never ask you to help me without offering something in return.” She clenched the skirts that clung to her legs and hindered her steps. She was letting pride get in the way of looking for Dosia, and that wouldn’t do, but none of this was going as she had planned.
“No, I’ll look for Dosia,” he said. “Tell me where I might find her.”
“I don’t know,” Esmerine said, still upset. Even now, he didn’t sound apologetic for taking such a snappish tone. “We thought she’d gone to the big house on the point. The one made from tan stones that looks like a castle. But the humans there denied they’d ever seen her. Now we’ve heard a rumor that her husband has taken her to mountain country.”
“I know the house,” he said, reaching for his hat. “I’ll go investigate.”
“You don’t have to go this very moment! Anyway, I wondered if I could hire a cart to take me there.” She didn’t want to send Alander alone. He didn’t seem especially passionate about Dosia’s fate, and she feared he wouldn’t ask the right questions.
“I ought to see what I can find out before you bother with a cart. Don’t worry. I imagine they’ll be more likely to answer me than a mermaid. It shouldn’t take more than an hour, and Swift will return before I do.”
“Thank you, Alander.” Even if he didn’t really want to help her, she meant it heartily.
“It’s nothing.” He paused. “You can call me Alan now. Humans have first and last names from birth, so I broke mine into two, Alan Dare. Fandarsee don’t take last names until they’ve chosen a profession. And only my father calls me Alander anyway.”
“Alan, then. Or should I say Mr.
Similar Books
