Magic in the Air: The Traveler and the Exile

Chapter 7

Please Note: This book has not yet been fully edited. I hope that any typos, awkward phrasing, or holes in research that might remain don't dampen your enjoyment of the story.

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Somehow Dean had known deep down that his return to Selene would be more of a reunion than he had hoped. The revelation that Flynn would be their inspector on this job had left a dazed feeling in his mind. He thought it would have vanished with the new day, but through his day of tasks, putting up with the others' vitriol as filtered through James and assuring Mikkel that he was all right. Dean had felt lost in a haze. But he knew how he could clear his head and find renewed direction.

As he stepped through the open door of The Crowded Shelf he could already feel the sunshine of his focus breaking up the clouds of his worry. But even here, in the place that had always refreshed him with its sights and smells something was different. Something was off. The scent of aged vellum was in the air– as always– but along with it were spicy concoctions Dean did not recognize in the least. He walked over to the new smell's source.

Along one of the store's walls was a shelf full of ever-wax candles and teas that pulled at Dean's attention with their herbal and fruity aromas. But the source of the spice he smelled – something like the cooking that filled the air in the heart of winter with its notes of cinnamon and nutmeg and anise – lay near the back of the store. It wasn't long after Dean settled on what looked like charms for rings, bracelets, and necklaces that the clerk called out from behind the counter.

"Yes, we've got into the charm business now. Most folks around here buy 'em to appeal to spirits. They say they love those exotic smells – explains why my gram would always say her family's sprites were never not seen when everyone celebrated the turning of the year in the heart of winter."

Dean turned briefly to smile at the clerk in the hopes that they would let him go back to his quiet browsing. They didn't recognize him (and neither did Dean recognize the young man) but they also foiled his hopes.

"Yes, we do most of our business these days on those things. Quite a few of the farm folk swear by 'em. All that keeps their sprites going, some say."

"Yeah?" Dean felt obliged to contribute something as he continued to look over the shelf's contents. A jar of what looked like grey sand caught his attention. He stared at it until he shuddered.

"Oh yeah. Actually – I see you've found our most popular piece these days – supposed to give a little extra magic wherever its needed – from the field to the bedroom."

Dean didn't need to see the clerk to know that he was grinning like an idiot and winking. He confirmed this as he strode past the counter, mumbling that he'd just stick to the books, thank you."

With a note of disappointment on his tongue the clerk applauded Dean's choice and then went back to whatever he'd been doing before trying to talk up his wares.

As Dean looked down the aisle of books formed by the wall shelf and the other familiar shelf he noticed the warm smell of leather and vellum taking over. It bloomed around him as he took a look at the spines along the shelves at every step. It had only been a year since he left so he wasn't expecting there to be any shockingly new titles. In fact, surprise was the last thing he expected to experience there since he had been to the book shops of Hemmark. At first Orin had showed him the best the city had to offer of magical tomes. Dean cherished the memory of heading out to one shop in particular week after week with his master and teacher, a place where the books were printed and bound in the rooms behind their storefront. As he ran his fingers along the raised and embossed spines he coulnd't help but chuckle to himself. Their surfers were smooth but hard, lacking the suppleness of the freshly bound volumes Orin would point out to him.