03. The Book Nook by the Brook

 

The Book Nook by the Brook

Just up the road, at the conjoined trees which house both the book and tea shop, light and movement can be seen. Outside of the Book Nook by the Brook, peaking into the window, is a human man. 

He isn’t exactly hiding his presence; it would be impossible to even try with his elaborate outfit. He wears a snugly fitted, bright red jacket with gold accents on the bottom trim and gold buttons which strain to hold the jacket closed over his round stomach. Across his shoulders rests a very short, black cape and on his hands, black gloves. Atop his head is a large, black hat, a statement piece on its own. The hat is also accented with gold along its rim and a delicate, lace-like design around the band of the hat. A very large, extremely pristine white feather stands tall and jaunty from the hat’s band. 

He is not called Maximilian the Magnificent for nothing. 

Maximilian is of an average height, somewhere between five foot nine or five foot ten. He is on the heavier side. His black hair is sprinkled with gray and is cropped to his ears; his beard is thick, but neatly groomed. He adjusts his stained glasses lower on his plump cheeks; they are usually to protect from the rays of the sun but now they only impede his vision as he peeks into the sap glass window of the bookshop. 

Inside the shop, he sees that it is just as airy and open as always. The tree had hollowed itself out from root to high bough, so the ceiling of the shop is nearly impossible to see from ground level. Stairs spiral along the high walls of the trunk, growing out of the thick wood. Each step is shaped like upside-down mushrooms, the caps being the stair and the stem bending out and away to form a banister. Every inch of wall is lined with books. 

“Then find him, I will.” Maximilian adjusts his hat, shoulders his satchel, and makes his way outside the same way he came in, smiling at the ring of the bell as he exits.

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    Maximilian has dearly missed this place. He can already smell the familiar scent of paper and book glue through the closed window; his fingers tingle with the phantom sensation of running across the many spines that line the shelves. He has been traveling for weeks and has seen many old and new wonders, but this place inspired a feeling like no other. This place is home. 

A young Sea Elf woman with bright red hair moves through the cavernous space. As a Sea Elf, she should be out of place here, so far inland that one cannot spy the sea even if they climbed to the top of the tallest tree in the forest. Her wild hair and freckled cheeks would be more at home on the shores of some bright island or on the bow of a ship. But as she energetically moves within the hollows of the gigantic tree, rearranging shelves and placing new books in their homes, humming to herself as she works, it is clear that her spirit belongs nowhere else but here.  

Maximilian cannot hear her humming, but he knows her well enough to know that she is. He watches as she goes about setting the shop for the day, waiting for the moment when he can enter unnoticed. He is late for their appointed meeting time, and he would like to avoid her ire–or even worse, her worry–if at all possible. He had not been able to check in to let her know he would be late, and he knows if he had been in her place, the worry would have destroyed him. 

Perhaps if he came in leading with his surprise? Maybe she would forget– 

He sees his moment when the woman is placing a tome just a little outside of her reach. Her back turns fully to the door and a spectral hand appears, taking the book from her palm to ferry it to its proper place. 

Forgetting for a moment that he had begun forming a plan, he takes the chance and moves to the door to make a quiet entrance. 

A bell above the door rings as he pushes it open. 

Since when was there a bell here?

The woman turns at the sound and Maximilian freezes as her eyes land on him. He had failed his objective. 

Though she is several flights up he can see her expression change. Her peaceful expression shifts to a moment of confusion–most probably because it was still too early for customers–to relief and possibly joy at seeing Maximilian standing there. But then the wide smile drops into a frown and she is very clearly unhappy. She fully whirls around to face the entrance and leans over the railing. 

“You are late!” And a book comes soaring down from the great height, held in the grasp of that spectral hand, and knocks the Maximilian’s hat from his head before the man can duck or dodge. The accessory hits the ground with a soft sound and makes a few lazy spins at his feet before the spectral hand snatches it up and holds it aloft, far out of Maximilian’s reach.

“Clari, wait. I can explain,” he insists as he hops a scant few inches in the air trying to grab at the floating hat. The spectral hand soars out of his reach and his glasses slip down his nose with the effort. “You know it’s just a little hard to get up some mornings.”

“You were supposed to be here yesterday. I still have so many things to get set up and I was counting on your help! We are very behind now.”

“Apologies. I truly thought I would be able to make it by yesterday. You know, traveling is hard when you get to my age…” he trails off as the Mage Hand dips low for a second to brush the tip of his nose with the hat’s feather. He sputters and sneezes. 

“Your age?” Clari scoffs, true laughter in her voice “ Sure, sure, you sleepy, old man.“

Maximilian cannot help but to smile at her as he pulls off his glasses and tucks them into a pocket. She rushes down the many flights of stairs to meet him on the ground floor. When she makes it to the bottom of the stairs, she watches him silently for a few moments. Her frown is still in place despite her earlier laugh, and Maximilian worries for a moment that she might be genuinely upset, but then he spots the twitch of a smile on her lips and relaxes. She is teasing him. 

“Well,” she says slowly, he can see her fighting off a wider smile. “There are a bunch of boxes of decorations. If you could take them out front for me, I would really appreciate it.” 

Clari’s gaze cuts to just behind him, and when Maximilian turns he sees several large crates, each standing as tall as his hips. His gaze swings back to the woman in front of him and she looks at him expectantly. Okay, she may be a little annoyed.

Maximilian sighs softly and nods his head. “I’ll need the hat first.”

A giggle escapes Clari before she is able to scrunch her face back into a half believable frown. The spectral hand moves even farther away, dangling the hat above his head. “It’s part of the ensemble. It completes the whole thing!” he says, gesturing to his whole body. 

Clari holds her fake grump face for only a moment before she bursts into giggles. “Fine.” She waves and the Mage Hand drifts down and gives the hat back to Maximillian.

“You’re the best!” he winks, twirls the hat with a flourish, and places it on his head.

Maximilian begins hauling the crates from one end of the book shop to the other. The process is a slow and sweaty one, as no one would say the man had the build or durability for labor, but he does not complain. Clari could have been truly angry for his tardiness or have even held a grudge, but she doesn’t. It is one of the things he adores about the young Sea Elf. 

For her part, Clari had already forgotten him and the task she had given him, already somewhere else in the stacks, homing books and journals in their proper places. 

Maximilian finishes his chore after nearly twenty minutes and goes to find the bookworm whilst mopping the sweat from his brow and neck. He finds her, as he expected, with a book in hand and excitement on her face. But he is a little surprised when she shuts the tome and holds it out for him.

“So here’s the book. The one you were, um… asking for.” She practically shoves it into his hands, and he is sure he has the same look of excitement as she did as he stares down at the cover.

“Do you…. have the one…” her tentative question breaks his focus on the book in his hands. 

“Yes, it’s right here!” he tucks the book she just gave to him under his arm and walks back to the satchel he had left on the ground when he began moving crates. He doesn’t have to rummage because what he is looking for is right on top. He turns to find Clari right behind him, having followed closely after him. With a startled laugh he places the tome into the young woman’s waiting hands.

“Oh! Oh wow! I am so excited. I have been waiting for this. Anything really good that stood out to you?”

“There are several excellent stories in this one. Oh, on page forty there’s a really good--” Maximilian doesn’t even finish as she is already flipping there and devouring the page. “It may need some translating, but I know that’s your expertise.”

Clari flips back and forth through the book, never staying in one place too long, skimming in a way that said she would like to do nothing more than sit down and give the book her full attention right at that moment. 

“Wow, this is all so good.” She flips for a few more seconds before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. She presses the pages of the book closed, her eyes still shut. “We have too much to do today!” she whispers to herself; Maximillian can tell it grieves her to say the words. She opens her eyes and stares down at the book’s cover, stroking it lovingly while she talks herself into being a responsible adult.

“I must get things ready because there are going to be so many people here today. I need to make wise decisions.” With a belabored sigh she presses the book into her chest, hugging it close before looking up at Maximilian. 

He smiles fondly at her.

“Have we come to a responsible decision?” he asks with a teasing chuckle. She scrunches her nose playfully at his tone. 

He can see the moment a new thought hits her, carrying her away from her hopes of leisure reading.

“Oh, I was going to confirm with you yesterday about the time for your performance! I had thought that 9 o’clock would be a good time. Or would later be better?”

He looks toward the time keeper hanging above the shop’s entrance. That was still three hours away, plenty of time. But…

“Let us set it for half past 9. This way we will be between those who are finishing a late breakfast and those who take an early lunch. It could make for a better crowd.”

“Good idea. But that doesn't give a lot of time to get the word out.” She chews her lips anxiously, trying to work through a plan of action. “I should go get Herbert… unless you think Lurz can--no, Noori is going to be really busy too, she’ll need him.” Her mind seems to race as she tries to figure out how to get everything done. 

“Clari, I have finished moving boxes, as requested. I can help in any way I am able.”

“Really? Well, okay, do you mind finding Herbert and letting him know to spread the news about your performance?”

“Yes, of course. Do you know where I can find Herbert?”

“Oh, I sent him to help with setting up decorations in the neighborhoods. He should be easy to find.”

Maximillian the Magnificent 
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{Part Four: The Pot and Pestle}