Page 63 of Adversary to the Villain

“Keeley?” Mo called. “Are you committing some sort of deviancy in my library with that handsome young man?”

Gideon grinned. “She thinks I’m handsome.”

“Oh my gods.” Keeley stomped away, and Gideon had an extra pep in his step when he trailed behind her. “Mo, could you help us find something?”

“It’s a book,” Gideon added.

“We’re all out.” Mo chuckled, organizing. The space was large and truly empty of patrons.

It was a melancholy feeling. All this joy about. All these places to visit and no one to travel there. All because Benedict was deadlands-bent on mongering fear. “What sort of book?”

“It’s old.” Keeley wordlessly began helping Mo organize books on her cart alphabetically.

“So am I.” Mo was mildly exasperated. “I’m going to need more than that.”

“It’s rainbow colored, with silver-edged pages. Very ornamental in its design. One of its kind.” Gideon gave every detail he could recollect from the one time he’d seen it on Benedict’s desk. The day his career with the Valiant Guard ended.

Mo straightened and turned, pushing her glasses down to the tip of her nose. Her face had no readable emotion upon it. “The book of Rennedawn?”

Keeley gasped. “You’ve seen it?”

Mo paused. “In a sense.”

“That was ominously answered.” Gideon chuckled.

“Now, you two know as well as I that Rennedawn’s storybook resides in the Gleaming Palace with King Benedict,” Mo said, narrowing her eyes at Gideon.

“Of course.” Now that the cart had been cleared of books in need of shelving, Keeley sat on a nearby couch, and Mo joined her. It was natural. Natural in the way you moved around someone you spent considerable time with. “I know that, but Herbert is new to Rennedawn. He’s from the southern kingdom.”

“Ah, yes, the land of lilies.” Mo smiled.

“Some of the best in existence,” Gideon responded jovially. “I’m just so curious. All the rumors floating around about the fading magic, the new villain on the loose. It’s like a melodrama you’d see on the stage.”

“Your kingdom’s storybook prophecy is its own dilemma. You weren’t curious about that?” Mo quirked her lips.

Huh. That’s a tidbit to file for later.

“We were wondering, Mo…might there have been any extra copies made? Surely the creators of it would want the public to know what it’s up against.” Keeley was being careful, but Gideon could see the trust between them, something she seemed quite desperate not to break.

Mo gave them a piteous glance. “Sweet child, there are no copies of Rennedawn’s storybook in this library.” She gave a humorless laugh. “There’s barely funding for candles. We’ve been closing at dusk.”

Keeley didn’t appear surprised by this revelation. “I brought a box of candles from home. I hate thinking of you here alone in the dark.”

“I like the dark.” Mo stood, dusting off her skirts with a merry smile. “It’s preparing me for death.”

Gideon coughed, unable to catch his breath.

“Why do you say such morbid things?” Keeley gave her friend an exasperated smile as she stood as well.

“Because there is liberation in looking at what you fear and simply having a good laugh.” Mo patted her hand.

“You’re a wonder.” Keeley leaned over and kissed Mo’s cheek. “We should really be going—Herbert’s eager to return to the stables.” She mock whispered, “He has a real passion for shoveling horse droppings.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Mo said, peering at him shrewdly over her glasses. “You know…” she started, and then: “I shouldn’t say…but—” The old woman gave them both a meaningful look. “There are no copies of the storybook in this library. That is true. But there was a story from when I was young. It might be of some value to you.”

“How do you mean?” Keeley asked carefully.

“There was a palace before the one that gleams.” Mo seemed troubled, looking off into the distance. “One nestled within Hickory Forest. Where the first king sat on the throne.”