I read the book Trivy had given me three times, cover to cover before looking for something else like it in our library. When I found none, I went into the city and asked Manuguel, the book store keeper who knew me well.
"We don't sell those types of books here, lassie. But try at Troys hole, up on Chisel hill. He'll know where to find something you'll like."
"Thanks Mig, I'll try there. Do you have any old dictionaries, by the way?" I needed an older one that had lots of the words written in the power book.
"Oh I'm sure I have at least one in the back somewhere, let me go check." As he went to look for a dictionary, I looked around his shop to see if he had gotten any new books in the last week since I'd been there. Only a map book of the country and a couple of fantasies that I'd read years before.
"Here ye go, lassie. The oldest, thickest one ye'll find in Drakenzburg." He came out from the back carying a huge, leather-bound, dusty book.
"Oh that's perfect, Mig! How much d'you think?" I asked him, skipping over to look at the treasure. It was in perfect condition and the leather was hardly cracked. Still, you could tell it was old because nobody ever bound books in leather anymore.
"For you lassie, two chips and a carrot." He named the currency in Mileza. Chips were the third lowest coins, then bagers, then carrots. Before chips were cranks then pops and finally peacorns. But hardly anyone ever used a peacorn. They were worth a city house or three packhorses at least.
"Sounds good, here you go, Mig. Tutulu!" I paid my friend and left the shop, trotting up the hill to Troys hole, a shop I had only ever been in to twice.
Chisel hill was not a place you set up shop if you wanted to be noticed. You did not sell things that people would want to buy on a normal day at the market. Chisel hill kept the bonesetter and the taxidermist. It also kept the back alleys where drugs and other illegal substances were sold. Nobody decent lived up on chisel hill. It was a place you went when you absolutely had to and never more.
I knew Troys' from the others by the book symbol with the bone staked through its center, which was hanging outside his door. I opened it and stepped through to the damp, murky shop. There were many shelves containing thick, locked books. In one corner was a beat-up, wooden desk laden with paper and ink. It seemed that Troy was also a scribe.
"Oy? Troy or whatever? Manuguel sent me here to see if you'd have any books similar to the one in my hand." I held up Trivys book. Still, there was no reply. "I'm not poor, but if you don't think your well enough stoked as to cary it, then that's fine, I'll go somewhere else." I heard him behind me before he had time to pounce on me. Un-sheathing my wrist knife I slashed at his bare arms.
"Ay! Blimme how'd you do that? And you being a girl, too. Wow, all right, I'm humbled lass. Let me see that book'o'yours." He held out his hand. I smiled, and, shaking my head handed him the book. Most people wouldn't have trusted him after an attack like that, but I could tell that he was serious now.
"This?" He said doubtfully, looking at the book. "They sent you here to find something like this?"
"You don't have anything like it? Anything at all? Are you positive?" I put enough emotion into my voice to sound pleading, but not whiny.
"It's not the lack of books like this, lass, but the surplus of them. They come flooding in to me by the dozens. I have two entire shelves dedicated to this sort of thing. Here, I'll show you" He led me down the rows of shelves until he found the section he was looking for.
"Right then, take your pick. I'll be at the front copying a scroll." Troy gestured at two tall bookcases in the corner of his large shop.
I read each title and finally decided on four books that were the most appealing, I knew I would be coming back to this shop soon. Bringing them up to Troys desk, I voiced a question that had been troubling me since I had met the shopkeeper.
"Wasn't Troy an old man the last time I came in here?" I raised my eyebrows at the young man. He had untidy brown hair, a glint in his eye and a wry smile. I liked him.
"Prob'ly saw Troy the senior, my father. He died last year and I didn't mind this work too much s'long as I could keep up my nikin' and lyin', so I kept this place. It's a livin' and the books are right interestin'." He held up his hand and green sparks surrounded it. "Y'can learn a great deal from books, y'know? Pop always raised us to read but I was the only one t'preciate it." He smiled. "That's a good selection there, lass. I learned a lot from those four books." He smiled again. "That bein' the case, I had to raise the prices. Three cranks, three carrots and a bager." His eyes glinted. "Unless you wuz fibbin last time when you said you was rich."
"I wasn't fibbin, laddy boy." I teased. He wasn't that much older than I was. I paid him the full price plus a carrot to brag.
"You miss counted, lass. I said three carrots, not four. I don't accept charity. I honestly don't deserve it." He handed me back the coin.
"I can relate, Troy of Troys hole." I slipped the carrot back into my purse, feeling slightly amused. "I'll be seeing you, then. Be sure I'll be back for more books."
"I'll try to remember not to jump you next time then." He laughed, which brought one from me too.
"Cherio, Troy." I opened the door and walked back down Chisel hill, thinking. How could I be so attracted to anyone other than Jack? True, I had only ever been with Jack, but I didn't need anyone else to tell me my hearts desire did I? I stiffly embraced my lover when I passed the stables. He looked at me quizzically, and I made a hurried excuse about a long day. He let it go at that. Jack had never been able to detect any lies I told him, I used to it was sweet but it now seemed like it made him more like everyone else and less like the ideal he had seemed like yesterday.
I went back up to my room and immersed myself in the books to get away from troubling thoughts.