The Spellshop

But I do know books—and that meant there was nothing she couldn’t know, eventually. That was a magic in and of itself.

Behind them, the great city burned, with its people (both good and bad) and its history (both good and bad) and its books and its flowers. And she knew she wasn’t coming back

But she hadn’t emptied her cubicle in the library of her personal items. She thought wistfully of all she’d left—her old journals, her best quill set, a wooden carving in the shape of a mermaid that her parents had given her when she was a child. But Caz was right: better to save themselves. And the books

She thought wistfully of all she’d left—her old journals, her best quill set, a wooden carving in the shape of a mermaid that her parents had given her when she was a child. But Caz was right: better to save themselves. And the books.

We’ll come back when it’s safe, she thought. This is just temporary.

All of the city of Alyssium was riddled with canals. It was part of what made it one of the world’s most beautiful cities, the jewel of the empire

On wheels, it scooted between the shelves, and she felt a lurch in her stomach as they passed all the full shelves of beautiful, wonderful books. She snagged a few more favorites as they hurried past

Oak trees are struck by lightning more often than any other tree. Apples can
float because they are twenty-five percent air. You can count the number of cricket chirps per second to calculate the outside temperature.”

Only the elite, the crème de la crème of the scholars, were allowed to even view the spellbooks, as only the rarefied few were permitted, by imperial law, to use magic.

Books should be shared with everyone who wants to open their minds and hearts to them.

As they poured themselves a final round of tea, Eadie said, “If this is going to be a regular meeting, we should have a name. I vote we call ourselves the Pine Cone Coven.”