Page 95 of Not Another Happily Ever After

Time moves quicklythrough the stacks of books, though I couldn’t say for certain how much has passed. With no moon or sun shining overhead, it’s almost as if this little town has been forgotten about completely.

Much like the question I came here to ask.

I pick up books of poetry. I skim through books about love. And still, I don’t come close to scratching the surface of all the stories Rose’s library has to offer. Someone would have to live several lifetimes to get through them all.

I reach for a leather bound book about squids when a blur of white steals it from my grasp.

“Hey!” I turn, but there’s no one there.

Oh no.

My heart races.

It’s happening again.

I suck in a deep breath, steadying my pulse. Then something soft and fluffy tumbles from the bookshelf over my shoulder, coming to rest against my chest.

What in the—“Ah!”

I jump back from the bookshelf, where two white, limbless creatures stare at me with impossibly large pink eyes. Their ears drape downward, stretching several feet long.

Oh my god!

“Oh my god.” I press my hand to my chest, my heart still racing. “You’re the Inklings,” I breathe in awe.

“How astute.”

“A little daft.” They speak at once, their voices little more than a whisper, yet impossible to miss.

I straighten, fixing my rumpled skirts. “My sincerest apologies. I don’t mean to offend.”

“You didn’t.” One blinks.

“Oh, but you did.” The other looks away.

Suddenly, I feel vastly unprepared.

“What will she say?” The top Inkling teeters on its end.

“Ask away?”

Right. My question. “Pounding?—”

“Try again.”

“Try again.” They cut in.

I blank, uncertain of the rules here, or what I’m meant to say. Does the question have to be asked a certain way? Or do they mean I should choose another question entirely?

I look up, meeting their glittering pink gaze.

I wonder…

“Which one of you is an Inkling?” I ask, taking note of each one’s answer.

“We both are,” they say together.

Hmm. Alright.