"How awful! I'm so sorry. You must have suffered terribly." In her travels, she had encountered far more hog pens and the attendant stench than she cared to remember.
"While I have the power of speech, Mi'Lady, fortunately I lack a sense of taste or smell unless I can borrow the senses of the people I serve, if they so permit by an act of will."
"I will keep that in mind." Such an ability might come in handy.
"A protective spell brought me back to the library while I repaired myself. By this time, most of the family fortune had vanished, and the uncle only came into the library when he needed another rare book to sell. He was nearly apoplectic when he saw me sitting on the reading stand where I belonged. Much bedraggled and worse for wear, but in one piece again."
"Oh, dear," Merrigan murmured, envisioning what likely came next. Mostly because, she was oddly ashamed to admit, she would have done the exact same thing. She had never ripped apart books, but she recalled destroying other things that had failed her. "He tried again, didn't he?"
"Five times. Until he learned he had to rip all the pages out of me so I couldn't repair myself. Each time, he rode farther away, trying to defeat the magic that brought me home."
To her surprise, Bib chuckled. More accurately, he snickered.
"What's so amusing? I can't imagine any of those experiences were pleasant for you at all. You didn't actually feel yourself being torn apart, did you?"
"Yes, and no. It wasn't how I imagine you would feel if say, someone peeled off your skin and then pulled off your arms and legs, but yes, it's a disquieting sensation to feel yourself going to pieces. Accompanied by maniacal laughter. My only consolation was that each time that wretched man saw me again, he had an apoplectic fit. The fourth time, he was confined to his bed for two moons. Most of that time, he was unable to speak. Quite fitting punishment, if you ask me."
"Indeed." She reached out and stroked the cover. "Am I imagining things, or is it the candlelight, or is your cover ... thicker? The colors darker?"
"My repairs are still progressing, Mi'Lady. Your sympathy, your discomfort on my behalf, comfort and strengthen me. Hastening the healing."
"Oh ... well ... I'm glad I could be of help." She wriggled a little, feeling somewhat squirmy inside. Being helpful to someone was a good thing, wasn't it? It wasn't like she was breaking any sort of rule for being a queen. Was it?
Merrigan scrambled for something else to focus on, to get her mind off the odd thoughts that seemed to focus beams of uncomfortably warm light back on herself.
"The glass—in the corner case—it had a spell on it?"
"Oh, yes, indeed. That was part of the curse put on me by the enchanter who—no, let me back up in the story. When that despicable, temperamental old man—"
"Why don't you ever say his name? You always refer to him as the uncle, but never his name. Don't you remember?" She found it amusing, despite her own inability to remember people's names.
"I don't want to speak it. I loathe him. Even more than I loathe the enchanter who put me behind that enspelled glass. Now, as I was saying ..." Bib paused, and Merrigan wondered if he expected her to interrupt again. "When that fiend recovered from his last fit, he promised all the magical books remaining in this library to an enchanter who could deal with me. He offered me in the bargain, but the man didn't want me." He snickered. "He had once fought with the enchanter who made me. He refused to even touch me, and declared the world was safer if I remained within the confines of the ruins of my master's castle."
"So the stories are true?" Merrigan sat up again and looked around the shadowy library. She thought about the rows upon rows upon shelves upon stacks of books in this library. What were the chances that a book of magic could be found in here that would break Clara's curse? Then she sighed and curled up again. "The enchanter took all the books, didn't he?"
"Oh, no indeed. There are a great many books of magic still here. He couldn't remove them any more than he could remove me. Despite the punishment cast on the warring enchanters, binding their magic until they could act with proper civility and concern for and duty to others, some magic remained in effect. My previous owner put a spell on all his magic books so no one could take them from his castle without his permission. Even if he died."
"Oh. Then ... When we take care of the judge and the miller, I won't be able to take you with me, will I?"
Odd, how disappointing that was. Merrigan admitted she had grown quite fond of Bib in such a short time. He was amusing and clever and kind, and he flattered her without making her feel he was maneuvering for something to benefit him rather than her.
Bib chuckled, several ripples of his pages, before saying, "Oh, you must take me with you, Mi'Lady. I think it was ordained. But let me finish my story. The enemy enchanter created the glass to seal the corner cabinet that held my pieces. Only someone with magic, from outside the household, outside the town of Smilpotz even, could find me. Ask anyone in the household. They'll tell you that corner is
