Ink & Incantation Read online

  Golden Bird Press

  Ink & Incantation

  An Enchanting YA Anthology Featuring Books & Libraries

  First published by Golden Bird Press 2022

  Copyright © 2022 by Golden Bird Press

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  First edition

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  Contents

  Dedication

  I. RUTHLESS HEARTS

  Ruthless Hearts

  II. CURSE YOURSELF

  Curse Yourself

  III. A TOMB OF ROSES

  A Tomb of Roses

  IV. BOOKS & SECRETS

  Books & Secrets

  V. A CURSE OF SILVER

  A Curse of Silver

  VI. WAR OF TIDES & TOMBS

  War of Tides & Tombs

  VII. RIWENNE & THE HAUNTED BOOKSTORE

  Riwenne & the Haunted Bookstore

  VIII. THE STORY WEAVERS

  The Story Weavers

  IX. BECOMING BANNERET

  Becoming Banneret

  X. THE BARREN TROVE

  The Barren Trove

  XI. THE SENTINEL OF BRAIDWARD LIBRARY

  The Sentinel of Braidward Library

  XII. LOST IN SHADOW

  Lost in Shadow

  XIII. THE SECRETS OF OSSADIYAH

  The Secrets of Ossadiyah

  XIV. ALAN’S AWAKENING

  Alan’s Awakening

  XV. BOOKWYRM

  Bookwyrm

  XVI. OMENS FOR WAYWARD WITCHES

  Omens for Wayward Witches

  Join YA Sci-Fi & Fantasy Addicts

  Ready for More?

  Dedication

  This anthology is dedicated to the members of YA Sci-Fi & Fantasy Addicts community on Facebook! Thank you for your support! We love interacting with all of you and hearing about your favorite books, geeking out over your book memes, and drooling over your #shelfies and #bookhauls.

  Learn more about us at www.yasff.com.

  I

  Ruthless Hearts

  E.V. Everest

  Ruthless Hearts

  Enora had never been more bored in her life.

  Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She had been precisely this bored every Saturday since her eleventh birthday—the age when her mother had begun to demand her attendance at society events.

  Today, they were attending a private luncheon at the estate of Lady Sylvia Rockwell. The three of them sat around an elegantly dressed table with a full tea service.

  Enora’s mother beamed across the table at the other woman. Her hair was coiffed, not a strand out of place. “Enora has the highest grades in her class. She’s doing especially well in finance and literature,” she bragged.

  Enora fought the urge to roll her eyes. Such kind words were rare when she and her mother were alone. No, that time was reserved for lectures on Enora’s duty to her family and society at large. Often, the lectures were followed by list-making and goal setting to ensure Enora would excel above her peers.

  It didn’t matter how high her grades were or how many leaderships positions she earned. Nothing she did was ever good enough.

  Lady Rockwell returned a smile. “Oh, how lovely. My Peter also enjoys reading though I must admit it’s often military strategy. I suppose he takes after his father.” She laughed into her lace-gloved hand.

  “An excellent role model,” Enora’s mother bolstered.

  It was painfully clear why they were all here. Lady Rockwell’s son, Peter, was twenty-years-old. Enora would be eighteen in two months. This was political matchmaking. She wondered when the military strategy reading Peter would arrive. Perhaps not until a second meeting but one could never be sure.

  It had been two dreadfully dull hours of vapid conversation, and she’d do almost anything for a respite. Peter be damned. She sighed over her teacup.

  Her mother shot her a glance that said quite clearly, No sighing at the table. Sit up straight and be pleasant, young lady!

  So, she slouched further in her chair and gave a dramatic sigh.

  This time, her movements attracted Lady Rockwell’s attention too. “Enora, my dear. Are you feeling well?”

  Enora almost smirked, but she held back. Instead, in a stroke of brilliance, she pulled her face into a pained expression. “I have a terrible headache, and I fear I may be coming down with something.”

  “Oh, my dear, you must go and rest then.”

  While the woman was addressing Enora, her mother was shooting her a look that could kill.

  Enora ignored it. “You’re quite right, Lady Rockwell. I should adjourn, but please give my best to Potter.”

  The woman’s smile faltered for just a moment, but she recovered quickly. “When you’re feeling better, I look forward to introducing you to Peter.”

  It was a subtle correction, but neither Enora nor her mother missed it. Of course, Enora already knew his name. She had an exceptional memory. What she didn’t have was any interest in this arranged marriage or any other.

  She stood and dipped a small curtsy.

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed. There would be words later.

  But for now, she was free.

  * * *

  As she exited the estate, Enora held a demure hand to her temple and made sure to look faint.

  She must have overdone it because the doorman insisted on calling a hovercar. It arrived in minutes— small, dark, and sleek. The vehicle levitated just overhead and then lowered to ground level, so she could board. She thanked the doorman in a sickly voice for his “kindness.”

  Inside, with the vehicle doors secured, Enora allowed herself to slump down in her seat. She groaned. What now? She couldn’t go anywhere fun. Her coordinates would be recorded. The only place she could go was home, and that was the last place she wanted to go.

  So, she programmed in her family’s residence in the capitol city. Their home in the Northern Province was much closer, but she had already decided to give herself the afternoon off. After all, she’d earned it.

  She exited the hovercar just outside of the family skyscraper, only blocks from the bustling financial district. She lingered outside the opulent doors until the hovercar was a distant memory.

  Then, she started walking. It looked like rain. Maybe, she could go shopping or try to call a few friends. She couldn’t be the only one in the city this weekend.

  She hadn’t decided on a destination yet when a familiar hovercar turn the corner. It was her mother. She swore under her breath. The Seven royal families might claim they rejected all cyber mods but sometimes she swore her mom had chipped her.

  She turned onto the next street and broke into a run. After that, she made another turn. Then, hoping she had thrown her off, she turned into the first building that appeared to have a public entrance. She had no idea what it was, and she didn’t care.

  Inside, she leaned against the door and clutched her side, trying to catch her breath.

  Gold letters twinkled in the air before her. “Welcome to the Archives, Enora Jacobs,” they read.

  A tall, thin man in a rich blue uniform approached her. “Welcome to the Bellatonian Archives,” he echoed. “The largest and only remaining print library on the planet.” He looked up at the words still twinkling in gold. “Wait a minute. You’re a Jacobs. This is the Sixth Entrance, not the Fifth. Your entrance is four blocks south of here.”

  “Couldn’
t you make an exception?” she wheedled. “My mom doesn’t like me walking in the city alone, and”— she added glancing out the window— “look, it just started raining.”

  He twirled the end of his mustache thoughtfully. “Fine. Just this once. But next time, make sure your driver drops you at the correct entrance.”

  She beamed at him. “Of course.”

  “Now, if you’ll just join me at the security booth.”

  She followed, taking in the room.

  “Your full name,” he prompted.

  “Enora Lyn Jacobs.”

  “And your date of birth.”

  “10/29/1918.”

  “And Ms. Jacobs, are you carrying any ink-based products—pens, quills, markers, etc. on your person.”

  Enora shook her head. How silly. Who would carry around such archaic tripe?

  “And do you have any modifications?”

  She recoiled. “Of course not.” What did he think she was? Some dirty cyber?

  “My apologies, miss. We’re required to ask all patrons.”

  She nodded crisply, still not quite forgiving his gauche question.

  “And do you have any digital devices on you? Holovision, streamers, virtual glasses, smartwatches, infotabs, or any similar items?”

  She snorted. “Who doesn’t?”

  “If you’ll please follow me, I’ll take you to our visitor storage. You may safely stow your items there and collect them upon your departure.”

  He showed her to a set of lockers with DNA-based mechanisms.

  “I’m not sure about this,” she muttered. When was the last time she had been without a digital device?

  “I assure you your items will be safe upon your return. We haven’t had an incident in decades.”

  Channeling her mother, she said in a haughty voice, “That implies there has been an incident.”

  “You could always depart the Archives,” the man said, calling her bluff.

  Enora frowned. “Fine, fine. You win.” She stowed no less than four gadgets before securing the lock.

  The man smiled. “Well then, you’re nearly ready. Here’s your map. Steer clear of the restricted sections. Several are quite dangerous. If you near one, the map will glow red. The main thoroughfare is lit up on the smart paper in blue. The Archives close at 9 o’clock.”

  Enora nodded. “Are there any areas you recommend?”

  “The Celestial Room and the Arkwright Wing are both popular with first-time visitors. If you prefer somewhere quiet, the Intergalactic Wards are a great place to study.”

  She nodded and made a brisk retreat. She couldn’t imagine her mother stowing her belongings in a locker, but it was better to stay far away from the entrances. Just in case her mother really had chipped her.

  Down the main hall, she stopped to look at the map. Archaic just like this place. Why would anyone prefer paper? Could you keyword search this? Could you pull or up on holovision?

  Still, it beat another of her mother’s lectures. She decided to make the best of it. The Arkwright Wing was only half a block away. She wondered what made it so noteworthy. Maybe all the shelves were hewn from a precious metal or stone.

  The Arkwrights were known for commodities and mining. Each of the Seven royal families on Bellaton had a magical gift that ran in their family line. For Rockwells, it was foresight. For Arkwrights, it was the ability to move metal.

  Enora’s family was said to be gifted with numbers. Her father could actually see them as if they surrounded him on a timeline. He could do math in a way that was rare and astounding. But she wasn’t sure she bought into the whole thing. A talent with numbers, an eidetic memory, a neurological diversion…those things weren’t magic. They were science. And the other families weren’t above pretending to have magical gifts to impress one another.

  The Arkwright Wing had a palatial entrance hewn from dark, shimmering stone. She stepped through and into the rows and rows of shelves beyond. By her estimation, this wing might take up half a city block.

  So far, she didn’t see anything of note here. Just old paper books. A few feet away, she spotted a young man close to her age. He had light brown hair that curled at the ends. He pulled a book from the shelf and carefully examined its spine. He wore the uniform of a library page.

  She considered stopping to talk with him. Maybe he could tell her what was so special about the Arkwright Wing. Maybe he was an Arkwright.

  Before she could reach him, a man in his thirties sidled up to the page. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  The page looked up from his book. “Just re-shelving. I need to learn the Arkwright call numbers for the Preservation Squad test.”

  The older man knocked the book out of the page’s hands. “Hasn’t anyone told you? Bastards need not apply.”

  Enora winced but ignored the two men, choosing to walk down a row of books and out of their eyeline. She had enough trouble of her own.

  Several minutes and many rows later, she came to what appeared to be the center of the Arkwright Wing— a large, vaulted space with a ceiling made from midnight blue, deep purple, and charcoal-colored gemstones. Light shone through, forming a moody gradient and casting dancing shadows on the stone-hewn tables below. The atmosphere was rich. But not the best for reading paper, she thought. Luckily, there were lamps on the tables too.

  Just as she had decided to sit down and consult her map, the page boy came running into the room. His breath came in gasps, and he doubled over, clutching his side.

  She looked around warily. Was he being chased? Bullying was one thing but an actual brawl in a library? How unprofessional could a grown man be? But no one else appeared.

  For just a moment, there was stillness.

  Then, books began to fly off the shelves, one by one. Soon, there were dozens and dozens floating in midair. They gathered in the center of the room and began to swirl clockwise, right above her head.

  “Move,” the page shouted at her.

  She did.

  He seemed more resigned to the situation than alarmed. It was almost like he knew this would happen.

  Meanwhile, the books were gaining steam. More and more of them were pulling into the air, and they were picking up speed. Books bashed into each other, and pages began to flutter toward the ground.

  Enora was more curious than frightened by the display. So, she grabbed a book from a nearby shelf, covered her head, and ran toward the page. He was standing in the relative safety of a nearby aisle. “What’s going on?” she called over the noise.

  “The books have metal in their spines,” he yelled back. “They’re attracted to one another. Someone forgot to demagnetize them!”

  “Are you an Arkwright?”

  “No,” he said shortly.

  She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to declare himself.

  “I’m a bastard. Part Rockwell.”

  Her mouth opened. The jeers earlier hadn’t just been rude, they’d been true. Still, the way he owned it surprised her. It wasn’t often people surprised her. A small smile passed over her features. “I see. And does the bastard have a name?”

  “Castien.”

  She stuck out her hand, and he grasped it. Surprise was etched on his face, but his handshake was firm.

  “I’m Enora.”

  He gave her a dazzling smile. “Well, Enora, how would you like to see the Archive’s finest demagnetization system at work?”

  The books were growing more violent now, and nearly one hundred of them circled overhead in a cloud of dust. Something had to be done and quickly.

  At least she couldn’t say her afternoon was boring anymore. She nodded her agreement.

  “When I say so, we make a break for the opposite wall. You ready?”

  “Ready,” she agreed, holding the book over her head once more.

  “Now!”

  Together, they tore across the wide expanse and toward the opposite wall. Pages fell, but to her relief, the books stayed aloft. They found shelter under
a two-foot obsidian overhang.

  Castien moved a few feet down toward a small panel on the wall. He pressed a red button, and a warning alarm began to blare. An old-fashioned recording began to repeat, “Ladies and gentlemen, the Arkwright Wing is now closed for maintenance. For your own safety, we ask that you follow the lighted path and please exit immediately.”

  “Now what?” she breathed, her heart hammering in her chest.

  “We wait for everyone to leave.”

  The books had now formed a swirling vortex, and they were pulling more and more tomes from the shelf. If they didn’t do something soon, the entire wing would be turned to wreckage.

  The button turned yellow, and the readout above it showed the number one. “That means there is only one patron left in the wing, you.” He put his hand on a large metal switch. “This is going to be loud,” he warned. “You might want to cover your ears.”

  She dropped her book and did as instructed.

  Castien pulled the switch down, hard.

  For a moment, nothing happened.

  Then, a huge gale of wind began to howl. It came in gusts from every corner of the ceiling. More pages fell, and dust filled the air. The force of the wind grew so strong that it began to push the cluster of books toward the center of the room.

  She moved her hands from her ears to her hair. Strands were falling from her bun and whipping around her face.

  A moment later, the strongest gust yet came. All at once, one hundred books came clattering to the floor. The wind slowed and then died.

  “Whoa!” she said, tucking an auburn curl behind her ear. “Is that it? Is it safe now?”

  “For now,” he said with a smile. “But those books need to be wiped down immediately, or it’ll all start again. Care to lend a hand?”

  She shrugged. “You did save my life.”

  He laughed. “I don’t know about that. At worst, I saved you from an asthma attack from all that swirling dust.”

  She sat next to him on the floor, and he handed her a special cloth.

  “Just wipe the spines,” he instructed. “The cloth will demagnetize them. That’s where the metal is.”