We all knew Page was “different”. Weird things just seem to happen whenever she is around. The first time I noticed, Page was pouring a man a flagon of ale, but when he drank it, it had become water. I thought she had merely grabbed the wrong pitcher. Later that week she sat next to the window and the flower pot began sprouting Lilies. As the months went by, these “oddities”, became more and more frequent. Butterflies often came in through the windows and created images on the walls, items on the counters would shift into various animal shapes, or it would snow in the kitchen when it was the middle of summer. I even saw some of my books rewrite their own endings. No one ever said anything. Most people would pretend these things weren’t happening because it clearly made Page uncomfortable. However sometimes I could not help but be surprised. One evening, when I was making an apple pie, a raven flew on the window sill and asked me how my day was going. I screamed so loud I think I almost sent half my kitchen staff to the morgue. Apart from these occurrences, Page was an average girl and a joy to have at the Inn. Her eyes were a vibrant blue, dark and mysterious, but behind the surface there was a spark of energy I have never seen in another person. My husband and I soon grew to love her and thought of her as our own daughter, as I could not have one of my own. That is why I was so troubled the day SHE came.
~*~
The lounge of the Library was dark and musty. Dark shadows danced on the walls, mocking the few lamps that were used mainly for reading. Two elderly women sat under the cathedral domed glass ceiling in the center of the lounge. Their old fashioned, mahogany table was illuminated by one lamp and was being used as a battle ground for black and white stone figures. The woman playing the white pieces was Pemrose. She was a large, stocky woman with a round friendly face and a booming laugh that would fill up any room. Her white, peppered hair was short and bounced with every chortle resonating form her deep voice. The woman playing the black pieces was Joyce. She showed her age very well. She was average height and weight with short, curly, mocha colored hair lightened by age. She tapped her long fingernails on the surface of the table as she thought of her next move.
A silky soft voice came from a large cushioned chair near a large bookshelf on the south end of the lounge, “I think we should tell her.” The voice belonged to Clara. She was the youngest of the librarians with long blond hair, streaked with silver and always in a braid, tied with a large black bow at the top.
“You know we all agreed to tell her when she came of age.” Joyce responded to Clara’s question as she had finally made her move. “Rook to D5,” she said to Pemrose in a soft direct voice.
Clara put down the book she was reading. “But all the children her age make fun of her. I think she has a right to know why she is different.”
“I’ve caught her snooping around the fiction section more and more,” Pemrose spoke this time, making her move right after. “Knight takes Bishop.”
“We can not tell her until she is sixteen,” said a sharp direct voice from the entrance of the room. Agatha had just walked in and heard the last parts of the conversation and guessed what the others were talking about. She was tall, slender women with very distinct features and short, straight black hair, untouched by age.
“But she is nearly fifteen,” Clara spoke up again, this time quieter, as if intimidated by Agatha’s presence, “and the lunar eclipse is coming next Fall. That is the perfect time for her ‘Right of Passage Ceremo…’.”
“Absolutly not.” Agatha interrupted. “She is too young and she has not developed enough.”
“She shows signs of power every day,” Clara spoke up again, regaining a bit of confidence, “and it is only a matter of time before…”.
“Enough.” This time Amy spoke up. The sharp snap of her voice, silent up ‘til now, spoke up from the large throne like chair in front of the fireplace. “She is not yet of age and we have other concerns right now.”
“But what if she discovers for herself?” Pemrose spoke up. I’ve done my best until now but I can’t watch her all the time.”
Amy stood up from her chair, pushing most of her weight on the falcon cane she uses to walk, a recent development she was still getting used to. Her frail body swayed slightly as she took a few, careful steps toward the center of the room. Although she was now 97 she still dressed pristinely and had her hair in intricate buns every day. “That shouldn’t be a problem, I’ve removed all the books pertaining to her development.”
There was a unified gasp around the room. Pemrose was shocked, Joyce had a look of terror, and Clara shivered up and down. Even Agatha, whose appearance rarely changed from different shades of serious, was looking very concerned. “But that will disrupt the entire balance of the Library. That is going to leave the entire town unprotected.”
“I know,” said Amy. “I was hoping to tell you all later, but since you know you can all help me find another way to restore the protection.”
“This is far too dangerous.” Joyce had totally forgotten her game and was now looking right at Amy. “We should return the books back to their rightful spots, we don’t know what will happen if we…”.
“You don’t think I know this,” Amy stated with a somber look.
“How could you put the entire town in danger like this?” asked Agatha. “What if…”.
“Stop.” Amy interrupted. “There will be no more of this conversation. What’s done is done. Now we need to figure out what is next.”
~*~
Doris was polishing some silverware, pondering the mysterious events going on in town. Lately there were things that were down right “ominous”. Evalynn, the florist, had her entire greenhouse destroyed by a grub never seen in this Country. Mr. Roberts, the fisherman, caught and entire days catch of fish with only half of their bodies. The baker has been complaining because no matter what he does he can’t get his cakes to stop tasting like ash. Rumors began spreading that it was Page, but most of the villages knew better. Doris sent Page home for the day because the rumors were getting to her and it was a slow day at the Inn.
Doris was just about finished with her daily cleanup when there was a commotion outside. There was a lot of yelling and what sounded like things breaking when all of a sudden the door bust open. Beneath the archway was an exotically dressed woman and behind her Doris could make out an exquisitely crafted, black horse-drawn carriage. There was a small man running about screaming at all the patrons on the street, something about moving the sales carts, Doris couldn’t really make it out with all the commotion. The woman took a delicate step into the Inn and shut the door behind her. Only then was Doris able to make out what she looked like. She was tall and voluptuous. Her feet were adorned with black leather high heels which began at the floor and ended just below her curved hips. She wore a silky purple dress slatted up the sides and corseted at the top. Black gloves covered her hands and went the length of her forearm. Straight black hair cascaded from her perfectly featured face and gently caressed the top of her breasts. A large blue lizard sat upon her bare shoulder.
This mystery woman took a look around the Inn and gave what appeared to be a look of disgust. “Where is she?” she asked in a calm smooth voice.
Doris was taken aback by this woman and asked politely, “who are you looking for?”
“The girl.” the woman responded in a harsh tone.
“We have many girls in this village, I’m afraid you will have to be more specific than that.” Doris responded in kind.
“The girl with magical abilities.” The woman seemed to be getting agitated.
At first Doris laughed at the mere thought of someone talking about magic, but then she thought of Page. Doris had never considered magic before. She replied, “I’m not sure who you are speaking of.”
The woman walked slowly to one for the forks that had mysteriously twisted itself into a symbol of some sort while in Page’s presence. Doris had hung many of them as decorations around the Inn. She smiled slightly, “Don’t play coy with me woman, I know the Sprite is here! If not here, somewhere in this town.”
At that moment the door flew open and the small man came rushing in. “Mistress we must go, the crowd is getting restless.”
“Very well, I’m getting sick of this form anyway. How humans can stand it I have no idea?” She turned toward Doris one last time and looked her right in the eyes. Her eyes were blue and very similar to Page’s, but instead of being soft and vibrant they were alive with energy, almost as though there were a lightning storm brewing underneath. “If I find out you are protecting her, you will be very sorry.” In that moment all the windows shattered and before Doris knew what had happened she was gone.
~*~
Page sat under and old oak with one leg on a rock and the other leg suspended under the surface of a babbling brook. A small ring of ice crystals formed around her ankle and would occasionally break off, floating down stream, reflecting light like small diamonds in the light. It was a nice day and she was grateful Doris gave her some time to be by herself. The librarians could be really controlling and she was behind in her studies so it was good to get a chance to relax and read by the water. This was her favorite spot and could calm her no matter what was going on.
Today was hard to focus though. Strange things were happening in town and people were starting to point their gaze at her. She couldn’t help what happened around her and she wished more than anything she was normal. Of course it didn’t help the librarians named her Page. No matter where she went she got unwanted attention.
It wasn’t all bad to be different, she thought, as she watched two squirrels doing pirouettes and dancing with each other while a group of toadstools bobbed up and down as if to music. For a moment Page was at peace but then something changed, something was different, something bad had happened and she felt unsettled. She stood up quickly and ran as fast as she could toward town.
