The ribbons of the hat slipped around my throat, tying into a loose bow. I rejected the brief jolt of alarm as the bow fluffed loosely beneath my chin, offering grace and beauty rather than harm.
The first Walz moved into another and another, and my heart filled with the beauty of the experience. Even as my legs tired and my feet started to falter, I felt only pleasure. But my eyes began to droop, and my feet stopped feeling the floor. When I could barely keep moving from weariness, the feather slipped its soft barbs across my eyes and I dropped, hitting a floor that felt like a feather pillow rather than the concrete it was. My thoughts drifted into darkness as the music sang me to sleep.
I slept deeply until morning, not waking until someone made a loud throat-clearing sound. My eyes fluttered open and I stretched, enjoying the comfy cloud of my bed. But as soon as my eyes opened I felt the cold hardness of concrete beneath me.
Alice stared down at me, worry set deeply into her expression. The tiny frog in her hair peered at me from just above her left ear, its black gaze equally concerned.
Fenwald was stretched out next to me, batting at the hat feather I’d been clutching in one hand.
I shoved upright, dizziness making me wobble. “What happened? How did I get here?”
Alice’s thin lips pressed together. “I’d say that’s rather obvious, yeah?” She nodded toward the feather. “You let the magic grab hold of you. What were you thinking, Naida? You could have been seriously hurt.”
Silky ribbons tugged against my throat. I looked down to where the hat ties were caught beneath my backside. I lifted one butt-cheek and pulled the ribbon free, reaching up to tug the hat off my head. I was alarmed to find the hatpin sticking into the back of the straw, no doubt just barely missing my scalp. “Oh. I…”
I dropped the feather inside the hat and rubbed my face. “I had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. The feather was entertaining me.”
Alice’s gaze slid to the cot. “Oy! That’s on me, I’m afraid. I forgot. That’s Custer’s cot.”
Still half asleep, I was having trouble processing her words. “Custer? Who’s that?”
“You know, Custer’s Last Stand? The cot’s a bit stuck in the past. Everyone who sleeps on it relives the battle. I am sorry, Naida.” She cocked her head, and the tree frog scurried through the frizzy mass of her hair to peer at me from the top of her head. “You can sleep on my couch from now forwards if you’d like.”
I didn’t like that option any better, but I needed coffee before I made any decisions. Yawning, I pushed to my feet. “I’ll just put this away.”
Fenwald jumped up and trotted with me to the shelves and then followed me to the dividing door, yowling impatiently for me to open it. I stopped, blinking rapidly to clear the last of the sleep from my eyes. I glanced back to where Alice still stood. “Um, is there coffee?”
Barely managing to wriggle my way out of eating something called spotted dick for breakfast, I gnawed on a rock-hard scone from the day before, carefully scraping slivers from the end, so I didn’t break my teeth.
I’d kill for a donut or two. My stomach rumbled enthusiastically at the thought.
Or maybe three.
The bell jangled on the front door, and I looked up from the notes I’d been reading to see a tiny, elderly woman with sparkling gray eyes come inside. She was brushing at her coat and tsking energetically.
I jumped up, eager for a break from my studies. “Hello.”
The woman smiled at me, adjusting her handbag over her wrist. “Hello, dear. You’re new.”
I nodded, “I’m Naida,” I said, offering her my hand and immediately feeling silly for having done it. But she clasped my offering in a soft grip.
“It’s nice to meet you, Naida. I hope Alice is all right?”
“Hullo, Mrs. Foxladle,” Alice said as she came through the dividing door. “I’ve got your books behind the counter.”
“Lovely!” She gave my hand another squeeze. “It was such a pleasure meeting you, dear.”
I nodded, watching with a pathetic kind of longing as Alice pulled a stack of books from under the counter and proceeded to show them to the sweet older woman.
“I’m sorry it took so long to get these,” she told Mrs. Foxladle. “My buyer has been ill.”
I frowned. I was pretty sure Alice was buyer, owner, stockgirl, and spotted dick baker in one. So, why had she lied?
A few moments later, I waved goodbye as the elderly woman left and returned to my work.
“Thank you, dear,” she said to someone at the door.
I glanced back up and saw her sliding past a young man with black hair and a cool gaze. He held the door for her and nodded when she thanked him again. Then he came inside the store.
I stood and gave him a welcoming smile. “Can I help you?” I asked.
He smiled shyly. “No, but thank you. I’m just going to look around.”
“Of course. Just let me know if I can answer any questions.” An unlikely possibility since I knew even less about the bookstore than I did about the artifact library, but I was getting pretty good at running to Alice for help.
He nodded and moved into the shelves, disappearing from view.
I squinted at my list of items to be cataloged. When Alice came back up front, I’d go finish that task. As much as I wanted to learn both parts of the business, I felt out of my element in the bookstore. Handling the artifacts made me happy. Even when I didn’t understand them.
My phone rang. I looked at the ID and saw it was the realtor who was selling my grandma’s home
