So many books, so little time...

[bryna]

Novak sighed contentedly, leafing quietly through a battered copy of the Arabian Nights. Occasionally, he would look up, glance around guiltily, and wonder whether he should get back to his original errand - finding a new German-English dictionary - but then something would catch his attention, and he'd be back to flicking back and forth through the volume, smiling dreamily and forgetting why he was there in the first place.

To be fair, there was hardly a place on earth that would better appeal to somebody like Novak. After all, what could be better than this section he had stumbled over in his search for a more expansive dictionary, which appeared to be devoted entirely to mythology? There was already a large pile of books at his feet which he knew he absolutely would not be able to leave the shop without buying, and it was growing. It was an entire shop full of little temptations, and he highly doubted he had enough money to indulge himself to quite such an extent. Or, indeed, the strength to lug twenty volumes back up to Florence. Still, a boy could dream, couldn't he?

Sighing, he closed the book and started sorting through the pile he had made. Seven volumes of the Arabian Nights - no, he couldn't afford all those, and he didn't like not to have the whole set. A book of Norse myths, the same one that Ada had given him before she died... he was reminded uncomfortably of her, and hastily replaced it on the shelf. The Tales of Cuchullain he regarded thoughtfully for a moment, then tucked under his arm, along with Yeats' Irish Fairy and Folk Tales and a copy of The Golden Bough. The rest, reluctantly, he replaced on the shelf, turned away, and started, once again, to look for a dictionary.

By the time he had found one, on a shelf he had bypassed several times, he was beginning whether he really needed another dictionary and whether it might not be better, after all, to abandon the effort and buy that copy of Tristan und Isolde he had seen at the back of the shop. He shrugged, putting down the books he was already carrying, and tugged the dictionary off the shelf. It was a hefty volume, much bigger than the one he already had, and therefore probably much more useful. But then, he had never actually read Tristan und Isolde...

Out of habit, he pulled out his pocket watch, shook it, and noted its lack of action mournfully. One day, he swore, he was going to get that fixed. Until then... how was he to know what time it was, or how long he had been there?

He shrugged, frowning, and scratched his head. He should probably be getting back soon. Either way, he'd better hurry up and make his purchases.

If only he could decide!

[Poe]

The small, ancient looking bells over the door chimed, signifying another presence in the book store. If one could smell the air, the fragrance of rose water and freshly laundered clothing would have wafted to your noses, possibly hinting that a female had entered the dingy little book store. But, what is this? No group of giggling girls following behind her, wasn't this interesting?
This wasn't interesting for Cicily Jaden Stone, her posse were probably still up at school, or with Ara wondering when they could return to their secret, Fantasia. Cicily rarely traveled with the group of giggling girls, unless, of course, she and Ara were in a hyper, slap-happy sort of mood, which did happen every once in awhile. Only then did Cicily link arms with her friend and parade through the town, giggling and talking like any other ordinary girl. Today, though, she had walked like a young woman, almost silently, and it would have been quite proper if she'd had a chaperon following behind. Oops, she must have forgotten that one.

Oh, well.

"Ah, Ms. Stone, how lovely to see you!" The store owner came out from behind a shelf and walked over to the student, who beamed at him.
"Hello, sir, how are you today?"
"I'm well thank you, thank you, and how are you?"
This small talk continued on, while Cicily tactfully lead him toward the back of the store, hoping she could talk him down on the price of Tristan und Isolde. And she did talk him down a coin or two without having to use a last resort...
Magic.
She wasn't normally a cheat like that, but her parents had yet to send her pocket money for that month like they always did, so she was living off of last months coins for now, and she desperately needed some light reading.
"Is that all I can do for you?" The man asked again, and Cicily nodded.
"I'll be up front to make my purchase shortly, I'd like to take a look around."
The little man nodded and hurried off, while Cicily walked down the rows of books toward the mythology section, wondering if there was anything that maybe related to Fantasia, it would be interesting to read.

The swish of her skirts guided her through the otherwise quiet store, and she brushed her fingers along the covers and spines of books she passed.

"Oh."
Cicily was surprised to see anyone else there, and blinked once or twice at Novak, having been caught off guard. "Why, hello," she said lightly, shifting Tristan und Isolde so that it rested under her arm. Her eyes left the boy and swept the shelves, searching for a book on something that had to do with other realms. Her quest for this knowledge, she feared, wasn't going to end as easily as she would have liked.
Gnawing on her lower lip for a moment, Cicily brushed back her dark hair, running a finger down a few book spines before looking at Novak once again.

"Quite a few books you've found," she said softly, smiling. Remember, being polite is not Cicily's strong point, so she's working especially hard at this. And go ahead, you can laugh if you want, at her uselessness of small talk, just remember she can zap you into a pile of smoke.

[bryna]

Novak shrugged and nodded, looking at the book under Cicily's arm with undisguised envy.

"They are about... verdammt! Anderenwelt... erm, Otherworld?" he said eventually, when the silence had stretched on just a moment too long for his liking. "The Irish, they call it Tirae-na-Og, I think. The... Elfebergen... um, the fairy places... in County Clare, there are these hills, called Tara, that... that..." He trailed off, looking as though he had let himself get carried away, and muttered an apology.

Well, at least she had made his decision easier. Casting a longing look at the massive volume of Scottish folk tales that he had had his eye on all day, he turned back to the other shelf and pulled out the dictionary. "I.... um..." he stammered, looking back at her as he started towards the desk. "Um, that book, Tristan und Isolde... um, would you consider lending it to me in the future? The library at the school doesn't have it. I looked. Well, they have a copy in English, but not in German, and..." He shrugged, giving her a hopeless look, and turned away again. He hadn't gone two steps when he looked back over his shoulder at her and said, "Also, erm, was ist das Uhr, I mean, what time is it? My watch is broken." He shook it at her, by way of demonstration

((Sorry. Failpost is fail.)) [/size]

[Poe]

Cicily could barely make out the apology she had uttered, and shrugged it off, her shoulders actually lifting slightly, though it was hardly noticeable. "Don't apologize," she said, her words quiet in the still air. "I actually enjoy reading about the Other-world very much. I'm looking for a certain folk tale..." She sighed, running a finger down the spines of the books. "But no one seems to know what I'm talking about. It's about this other Realm. I think it starts with an 'F'... Fantasia, maybe?" She asked, sounding perfectly casual. No one knew their secret except the gypsies, and they all spoke about it when they got the chance, so why would asking for a book about it be any different? In Cicily's opinion it wasn't.

Brushing a curl out of her brown eyes, she looked again at the books, examining the titles. So easily she got lost in the words of books and their worlds and stories. With a wistful sigh, she tapped her fingers on the shelves in thought, before she realized he was actually speaking to her.

Glancing up quickly she blushed. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, I just get so absorbed in my thoughts and the books and words here," she said, waving a hand to show she meant the entire store. It took a minute to understand his first question, more than the second. "Of course you may! I'm actually buying this to try and brush up on my German... I'm dreadfully horrid at it, and I refuse to learn French... much to frilly to me, I think. You may borrow it after I purchase it, if you'd like," she added, offering a smile. "In all honesty I should be buying a dictionary... But I'd much rather have a story than a bunch of words."
Cicily shifted the book, listening to the apparent German words he spoke. "The time? Oh, I believe it's just after noon. The bells rung just before I entered the store."

The curl fell back in front of her eyes again, and with an impatient look she flipped it out of her eyes again. "I know I'm backtracking... but have you ever heard of a book that might have this story that I was talking about earlier in it? Preferably in a language I could understand," she added, laughing.

[bryna]

"Fantasia?" Novak frowned, clearly thinking. "The gypsies talk about it, I think - have you asked them? Besides that..." Slipping past her and putting down the books still clutched under his arm, he reached up to the bookshelves he had been standing by before, running his fingertips along the spines of the volumes. A moment later, he grinned triumphantly, tugging out a thick book, bound in crimson leather. Sagging slightly under the weight, he hauled it down from the shelf and brushed the cover with one hand.

"The Worlds Beyond. Michael Allencourt. I would give... what is it you English say? Give my front teeth for this. But, well, it costs more than I am send in a year, so... There are fifty copies of this in Britain, thirty of which are in private collections. And this is a first impression, so it is even more expensive." He smiled ruefully, propping one leg up on a shelf and opening the massive book on his knee. "I was right, see?" he said, pointing to the front page. "Printed in the year 3035. Price, four hundred and thirty pounds sterling." Looking up, he sighed. "I get fifty pounds a year from Germany. I would save twenty such years if I could be certain of having this." Sighing again, he looked back down at the book, breathing in deeply. It smelt of old paper and treated leather, a smell he loved.

Shifting his focus back to the point in hand, he flipped through the leaves of the volume, glancing down at the densely-packed blocks of text. As he skimmed the words, he talked.

"Michael Allencourt worked on this for nearly fifty years. It has a detailed description of every faerieland, every Heaven or Hell, every Anderenwelt, from each country and province across Europe. Slavic, Romantic, German, Celtic, Christian, Islamic, Jewish... ah, here we go. Gypsy lore." Shifting the book a few inches towards him, he flicked through the pages, eyes racing over the headings. "Erm... ah! Here. Fantasia. There's quite a bit here - most of a chapter. I don't know what you're after, but I should think it's probably in there. If, if you have five hundred pounds to spare."

He regarded the volume covetously, closing it with almost reverential care and holding it out to her. "I wish I did..." he added, proffering it still with one hand as he bent down and scooped up the books he was buying. "Ich wollte meinem Kleidung und Essen gibt aus, ob das wollte dieses Buch kaufen...*" he muttered to himself. Straightening up, he shoved the books under one arm and dug in his pockets. "Five pounds, two shillings, and thirty Deutschmarks," he said moodily. "I don't know that I can even afford these. I mean, it's pretty obvious I'll never be able to buy that. If you can, then the best of luck to you. And why do I have thirty marks in my pocket, anyway?"

*'I would give away my clothes and my food, if it would buy me that book'

[Poe]

Cicily watched him quietly as he climbed up the shelves, searching for something for her, and a slight smile grew across her lips. How sweet of him. Brushing another curl out of her eyes, she smiled when he came back down, brandishing a book. "Hmmm," she said softly. "Gypsies? Do you know how much trouble I would be in if I went to them with questions and the headmistress, or headmaster, for that matter, found out about my little adventure? I would be sent home and simply be a nuisance and a humiliation to my family. I surely can't do that."
She wondered if he could see through her lies and her fake-ness. Could he see, or did he already know, that she conversed with the gypsies quite often?

"Only fifty copies?" This surprised her quite a bit, and told her how much this book alone would be worth. A bit disgruntled by this fact, she listened to Novak continue on about the book in his arms, paying avid attention for a girl who really shouldn't care. When he came to the chapter about Fantasia she edged closer, much to close for an unmarried girl- a girl at all- should be. Tentively, she reached out to let her fingers skim across the pages that spoke the world she knew so well. What else was out there, if this world was actually real? But for four hundred and thirty pounds sterling!? That was just ridiculous. She could never afford it... Taping the page, she spoke aloud, thinking to herself. "Perhaps he'll... come down on the price slightly."

Of course, no one in their right minds would ever come down on a price such as this to something she could afford. The shop owner probably wouldn't take a simple IOU note from her either... After all, why should he trust a school girl to get that much money to him? That is, of course, where her gift came in handy. Maybe she could convince him to let her borrow the book for as long as she needed, or at least come down on the price... She wasn't going to go so far as to make fake money simply appear in her purse...

Or would she?

No, not even Cicily Stone was that bad.

She shuffled backwards from him, carefully taking the book. Maybe she could just read it here, or get a gypsy to steal it? It would be so nice to have in the cave with their stash of... unwomanly things. "Thank you so much," she said, smiling at the boy who helped her. "I wouldn't have had the courage to ask the shop keep... People look at you with such disdain when you are interested in those kinds of things sometimes," she said quietly.

[bryna]

"Trust me, I know," Novak replied, shrugging. "There was this librarian, back in Bavaria - every time I went in, he would give me this look, like... I don't know. Like he thought he knew everything about me from what I kept reading, and he didn't like it. Or, when I first got here..." He shrugged again, not wanting to remember it; the laughter and the teasing and the relentless destruction of valuable books.

And of course, of the book which had held more value to him even than the heavy volume he had just passed to her.

He shook his head, trying to avoid those thoughts. "It's quite a simple system," he said quickly, trying to change the subject, and indicated the shelves. "British mythology is along these two shelves - most of this shelf is King Arthur. Classics are on that next bookshelf along. Indian and Oriental myths, these shelves here... the further away the origin, the higher up the shelves the books are, and collections of word myths are on these top three shelves. Actually..." Squatting down and carefully laying his armful of books next to him, he rifled through the books on the bottom shelf, holding up his hand.

"There we go! Gypsy and Rom mythology. If that's what you're after..." He frowned, tugging out a couple of slim volumes and straightening up. "There's one here about Gypsy superstition in general, and the other's an anthology of their poems about other worlds - they won't be as... as deep as Allencourt, and they might not have much in them about Fantasia, but they're a bit more affordable. One pound, six pence, and the other's three crowns," he clarified, flipping them briefly open and then closed again.

He held them out, shrugging. "It's not so hard to get to talk to the gypsies, if you're careful," he added blithely, as he bent to retrieve his own books. "I do it all the time - they have some fascinating stories, and a good half of them never made it to the printing press. Or, if you don't want to... I keep notebooks, you see, to keep track of legends I've learnt. I have one especially for each culture, so I have a good thick one for gypsy lore. In German, of course, and in a sort of shorthand - like using Zig. for gypsy, you know? - but if you'd like, I can go through it and see what there is about Fantasia. Take down some better notes, in English, or just translate for you." Lunging forwards as his pile of books slipped a little, he grabbed at the dictionary, and in so doing seemed to remember the actual reason for his visit.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, realising that he had trodden quite heavily on her toe in rescuing his books, and stepped back quickly. "I should... should get these bought, and start back to Florence. I'm taking up all your time."

[Poe]

The girl winced, taking a half a step back, and swallowing back a very un-lady-like curse. Forcing a smile back upon her lips, she shrugged loosely. "It's quite all right," she said, hoping her words didn't sound to forced. She'd carefully put the large book back onto the shelf, and taken out a smaller book on gypsy lore. Now, this, she could afford. The other book would simply be put on her Christmas wish list. "Oh, you're not taking up any time at all. There is nothing to do on a day like today. Just walk with me, if you would," she said with a smile, "It's such a long walk home, and it isn't any good to walk alone either."
She didn't mind if he wanted to bury his nose in his new book, just as long as he chose to walk with her. It was always safer to have some one walk with you on the long walk back... Especially with all these disappearances and what-not occurring lately. And, of course, Cicily had forgotten to ask for something to make the journey go a little faster.

Just recently a young maid had been walking back home from Florence and never made it home. They still couldn't find her body, and she was pretty sure that the Yard was close to giving up.
Cicily would rather not be one of those disappearances.
Since then, of course, the school has been offering free board for the workers here, in an attempt to keep people safe. But the disappearances were getting close and closer to Florence, for her footprints in the frost that had been made on the roads, had ended very close to the end of Florence's long drive.

"I won't take long, if you'll just let me buy my books as well, then we can be on our way, if you wish," she said, pushing the disturbing thoughts away from her mind.
The books were clasped under her arm as she walked toward the front. Her German copy of Tristan and Isolde and the Gypsy lore her two purchases for the day, left her completely broke until her parents sent her her monthly pocket-money.

Paying for the books quickly, she stepped out of Novak's way so he could make his purchases.

The only question now was, would he actually walk back with her?

[bryna]

Counting out the exact change carefully, he shoved the coins over the counter and picked up his books again, nodding as he turned to follow her. "Natuerlich," he replied, smiling. "Of course I will." Carefully adjusting the books under his arm, he strode over to the door, holding it open for her.

"So, do you want for me to make you a copy of those notes?" he added, frowning as Tales of Cuchallain slipped out from under his arm. With a deceptive speed, he flashed out his free hand to catch it neatly, sighing with relief. "They are hardly exhaustive, but probably more specific than that book."

While he waited for her reply, he watched the grey November skies, swearing softly under his breath. It was going to rain, he noted, and the corners of his mouth turned downwards at the thought. If it rained, there was a good chance that his books would be damaged - and, as she had said, it was a long walk back to Florence.

Damn.

"We should move a little quickly," he said after a second, voicing the thoughts that were buzzing through his head. "Um... es wird regnet... it is to rain."

((Sorry, crap post taking a craply long time. SORRY! ^-^'))[/size]

[Poe]

Cicily smiled and thanked him as he opened, and held, the door for her. Her skirts swished as she stepped outside, still standing under the eaves of the building, looking up at the sky in slight irritation. Oh, drat it all. Rain? Now? With a sigh, she looked at Novak, but nodded, resuming her smile. "I would love if you would make a copy for me," she started, quickly adding, "but only if it isn't too much trouble. Don't bother if you haven't the time." Brushing a loose curl out of her eyes she pulled her soft, white gloves on, providing her fingers with a little more warmth. She ran her fingers across her books, putting a magic protective coating on them, hoping he didn't see the new glimmer that the covers had, she added the same to his.

At his words she nodded, looking once more to the sky whose clouds looked like they were fat with rain. "Yes," she said, nodding. "We best hurry. I'd rather not explain to the headmistress what happened when I returned wet. Rain is never the right answer, for her." She shook her head, and started toward the street, lips twisting when she realized just how dirty they would get if it started to rain. The streets were only dirt, not cobblestone like in London. Biting her lower lip she looked back at Novak, tilting her head. "Shall we?"

There was still a slight smile on her face as she forced herself to walk more ladylike back toward home. Back toward Florence. "Perhaps," she started thoughtfully, "we are underestimating Mother Nature and it is cold enough for some snow to cover the ground!" She smiled in delight at the idea, blowing out a breath, and watching the white steam come from her mouth and float up into the air. "Wouldn't that be lovely? Some snow before Christmas..."

(Don't worry about it, my post isn't much better anyway, I don't think. =P =D)

[bryna]

"Perhaps," Novak agreed dully, watching his own breath puff out in frozen clouds as he stepped out into the streets after her.

He hated the cold. It was one of very few things he didn't miss about Bavaria; the cold, the snow, the long hard winters. At least, he thought glumly, you weren't likely to die in an English winter.

Not like Ada.

Shivering at the thought as much as at the cold, he glanced over at Celeste and forced a smile. It hovered on his face like a death rictus, utterly insincere. "A white Christmas, you think, then?" he said, striving to force the thoughts out of his head. "Frohes Weihnachten? It's hardly Christmas yet, is it?" Realising how rude he probably sounded, he hastened to add, "Ah, 's tut mir leid, ich weiss, ich weiss, ich bin nichts lustig, doch... I'm sorry. I... I get myself mixed up in the cold." He laughed, a little too high. "It freezes my brain, I think. Was not good in Nuernburg, with the long winter nights and the snow... always, in Frankonia, there comes the snow. I'm sorry, I'm babbling." Flushing with embarrassment, he lowered his head and strode on purposefully, not looking up for several moments.

"I should have time to make some copies, though," he added, when the crimson in his cheeks had died down a bit. "My parents, they say I should not go back to Germany this Christmas, so I can have them done over the holidays, if not before. Would that be all right?" He frowned. "I can have the German version worked out in a couple of hours tonight, but if your German is not so good, then..."

((^.^' I was never away. It was a trick of your MIND!))