She peered in the window, hoping this was the place Alphonse
had mentioned. A bell hanging over the door made a jangling noise as Noir
entered. The room was wrapped floor to ceiling with dark wood shelves crowded not
just with books, but with stacks of loose papers, and an odd assortment of
paraphernalia. There were rows and rows of bottles. Some held dried herbs, some
had odd colored fungi, some were filled with bits of crystals or brightly
colored powders. One whole shelf had clear boxes of bones—everything from tiny
bird vertebrae to a selection of hands sorted by size. One large box held a
ribcage and the skull of what looked like some large carnivore. A large glass
jar held shed snake skins. Another seemed to be filled with black pebbles that,
on closer inspection, turned out to be dried black beetles.
There was a large desk in the center of the room where
a woman sat looking at a beautifully tooled, leather-bound volume. Delicate
fingers traced the gilding on the spine of the book she was holding. The woman
was middle-aged, thin, almost bony. She had the wispy silver hair and slanted
eyes typical of elven blood, but her ears did not have the classic pointed
tips. Her wire-rimmed spectacles held thick lenses tinted pale pink. She looked
up as Noir stepped nearer. Her smile was warm and genuine. “Can I help you?”
she asked. “What exactly are you looking for, my dear?” Noir felt a pulling
sensation, as if something was touching her shields, and she had an intense urge
to smile back at woman.
“Do you have or do you know where I could find any census records
of the area? I am looking for information about my father. He grew up somewhere
near here.” Noir knew it was a long shot. All she knew of her father was that
he’d left her and her mother when she was a toddler. She had only a vague memory
of a tall man who picked her up and bounced her on his knee, tickled her and
made her laugh. She remembered the lace trim on his shirt, on the collar and
cuffs, and the silk cord with which he tied his long, wavy black hair back.
The woman rose and her long purple taffeta skirts made
a swishing noise as she made her way out from behind the desk. She held out her
hands for Noir to take. “May I read you? Take my hands. It will be faster that
way.” Noir looked into the woman’s clear blue eyes and felt an instant urgency.
This was the person she needed.
She laid her fingers lightly into the woman’s hands. As
she did, she felt that pulling sensation again. She looked into the woman’s
eyes and the memory surfaced again, the one she had dreamed over and over for
years, but clearer now and far more vivid than she’d ever had it before. It
felt real.
They all sat in the grass by the side of
the river. Mama was singing a sweet sad tune as she wove reeds into a basket.
Da was twisting daisies into a crown for six-year-old Noir. He placed it on her
head and then looked in her eyes and said, “You will take good care of your
Mama for me, won’t you, princess?” He hugged her tight and she could hear her
mother’s singing falter and turn to soft sobbing. “Ah,
pulu, don’t cry. The King needs me, but I will be back before you know it.”
“You say you will, but I fear I will never
see you again. I fear you will lose track of the years and forget us. I will be
gone when you return. If you return.” Noir wasn’t quite sure what was upsetting
her mother, but she hated the tears.
“You can have the crown, mama. Don’t cry!”
Noir’s tiny hands pulled off the daisy crown and tried to put it on her mother.
Then
in a swirl of multicolored lights the vision was gone.
Noir opened her eyes and saw she was lying on a wine-colored
couch, wrapped in a thick embroidered quilt. The Apothecary stood over her and
was stroking her face with a cool wet cloth that smelled of witch hazel. “How
do you feel, girl? You have been out for over an hour. You went very deep.” Her
dark blue eyes frowned with concern. “I did not expect that.”
“I saw my parents! I have had dreams with them before,
but nothing this real! Do it again!” Noir struggled to sit up, but her head was
pounding, and she could not get her balance. “What is wrong with me?”
“You are not fully human, are you?” queried the woman looking
closely at Noir. She took Noir’s left hand in hers and began tracing the lines
of her palm with one elegant finger. “You would not have had such an intense
reaction if you were a human.” She moved to a shelf full of very old books.
Selected one embossed tome with locking clasps. After she perused a few pages,
she looked at Noir again. “What do you know of dragons, my dear?”
