Chapter Seven: Encounter

Being employed was an incredible confidence-booster, and the job came just in the nick of time.  My friends would all be returning to university for the spring semester, leaving me alone for much of the week.  Reece had volunteered to take the semester off and continue to help me get settled, but I could not ask that of him.  With my new job, I finally had a handle on some independence.  Even so, Reece promised he would return every weekend that he was able.

I told him that he should concentrate on his studies in order to avoid failing classes again, but in truth...

I would be looking forward to his visits.

Every morning I would get up early, and when I was not scheduled to work I would walk down to the library.  I spent hours poring over all of the books I could find on medicine and science.

With the occasional venture into recreational fiction.

I taught myself to use a computer.  That had been an interesting experience.

At Tome Traders I stocked the shelves with books, assisted customers in finding specific materials, and worked the cash register.   

Mr. Peter's was a wondrous employer.  He was all-too eager to talk about books, and even encouraged me to read when there were no customers to wait on and no tasks to be completed.  

He was also rather forgetful and prone to lose track of where he had put things.  It made my job all the more interesting.

For the first month, I was utterly consumed by my thirst for knowledge and my desire to devour more of it occupied most of my thoughts throughout the week.  However, as the days wore on and I fell into a familiar routine, I began to feel pangs of loneliness.  

Mr. Peters was pleasant company and I considered him a great friend, but I still felt isolated.

I found myself waiting with anxious anticipation for Friday evening when Reece would arrive, smiling and bright-eyed, at my front door.   

Sometimes he would bring one of the others, when their schedules were clear, but typically it was just him.  He almost never missed a weekend, and when he did I would feel downhearted until the following Friday.

“I found Scholarship I would be able to apply for.”  I told him one Friday evening over a meager dinner I had prepared for us.  I was still getting the hang of cooking, but Reece hardly ever complained.  “The only requirement is an essay.  Though... it is on modern medicine.  I may have to do additional research.”  I added, biting my lip.  “But it would cover tuition for the first semester.”

“When's the deadline?”  Reece asked, putting down his fork.

My face fell.  “In one month.  I may not be able to make it.”

Reece shook his head.  “You could!  And if you get accepted, you could even come with us in the fall.”

The fall!  Oh, how I wanted to be well on my way to becoming a healer by the time the fall arrived.  I took his plate and walked over to the sink, turning the idea over in my head.

“Perhaps if I spent every morning in the library... and then had Daria and Mr. Peters help me with proofreading... Oh but what if I am rejected?”  I said, my shoulders falling.

Reece clucked his tongue, shaking his head.  “Always with the negative.  If you get rejected, I'll sell the rest of my elixir collection and you'll join us in the fall anyway.”

I dropped the plates with a clunk and turned around with mouth open and eyes wide.

“No!  You require those to pay for your own education!”  I said, shaking my head.

Reece laughed.  “Alright, alright...”  he said, standing to his feet.  “So what are you reading now?”  Reece tilted his head to the side as he examined the cover of the book sitting on the counter.  A crease appeared on his brow and he smirked.  “Is that a romance novel?”

I snatched the book up from the counter and put it behind my back.

“No!”  I said.  Reece raised his eyebrows and my shoulders slumped.  “Yes.”  I admitted.  “It's... It's Pride and Prejudice.”

“So where's Mr. Darcy's shirt?”

My face flushed and I slid the book back into place on the bookshelf.  Reece laughed, holding up his hands.

“Okay... okay...  You read whatever you want, miss its-improper-to-live-with-a-young-bachelor.”

I smacked him in the face with the nearest pillow.

True to my word, I spent the mornings working on my essay.  I took my research materials to work with me and made notes while managing the register.  Within a week I was able to finish a first draft, but I was displeased with it and I tore it apart with revisions.  The deadline crept closer.

It so happened one afternoon while studying a textbook listing the side-effects of commonly prescribed medications at the register, that I caught a flash of dark raven hair out of the corner of my eye.  I looked up and turned my head.

I only saw her for a moment, but I felt a jolt constricting in my chest.  She turned the corner around the shelf and was out of sight, but I had seen her long black hair and her cream-colored skin.  There was no mistaking the resemblance.

It was impossible.

I slipped out from behind the counter and crept around the bookshelf.  I half-expected her to vanish into thin air, but there she was, tapping her foot to a silent beat with her nose in a book she had pulled from the shelf.  She was the spitting image of Kitsune, prophetess of the valley, in the prime of her youth.

My mouth went dry.  I wanted to say something, to call out to her and get her attention.  But what was there to say?  She could not possibly be the prophetess.  Kitsune had wasted away and died before I did.  Even her children would be long gone.

I had just resolved to try and casually ask if she required help when someone cleared their throat behind me and I whirled around.

The man who had called for my attention was tall with intense blue eyes.  Long gray hair reached down to his broad shoulders, though his face was smooth with youth.  Just a pace behind him, another man stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

“May I help you?”  I said, feeling my shoulders slump.

The woman turned her head for a moment and I caught a glimpse of her face.  Her eyes were wrong, a natural blue instead of Kitsune's inhuman amber.  It was only a glance, in another moment she looked away and slid the book she had been reading back on the shelf, turning to walk further into the psychology section.

“I have a book on hold.”  the man said, his voice deep and rich.  It caught me off-guard.  I blinked, and then tried to smile as I walked back towards the register.

“What is your name?”  I asked.

I turned back to look at him over my shoulder.  His face twisted, his frown deepening and his eyes growing narrow as though he had found my question offensive.  My steps faltered.  

“Stenberg.”  the other man said, turning around and moving up to the counter.  “It's under the name Thane Stenberg.”

I forced a smile again and then ducked my hand down under the counter.  I flipped through the books on hold and found the one with “Stenberg” written on its sticky note.  It was the only book on the shelf wrapped in a protective sleeve of plastic.  I drew it out and could not help glancing at it.  Its cover was leather, and embossed words in a different language were carved into the front.

I swallowed and held the book out to the man who stood at the counter.  He gave me a returning smile, one that was warm and inviting.  He was handsome, and I felt my face flush.

“H-here.”  I stammered.

The handsome stranger reached to take the book from my grasp, but the gray-haired man snatched it out of my fingers first, throwing an icy glare in his direction.  The stranger's eye's narrowed and he let out a breathy snort, but he made no move to take the book back.

“That will be one-thousand, eight hundred, and fifty-four dollars.”  I said, cringing as I read from the note.

The stranger turned his gaze back to me and reached into his coat.  With a smirk, he tossed a large wad of hundreds on the counter.  He leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms, relishing in my wide-eyed bewilderment.

I fumbled as I counted the money, my hands shaking.  I lost count twice and had to start over, apologizing in short, flustered breaths.

“You look familiar.”  the first man said, glancing up from the book.  “Have you worked here long?”

A hundred slipped out of my grasp and fluttered to the floor.  I leaned down to pick it up, shaking my head as I did.

“No... only since... since January.”   I replied, opening the cash drawer and putting the hundreds away.  My hands shook less as I tucked them into the drawer in a neat stack.

His lips pursued together, and he seemed to be studying me.  My throat felt dry and I tried to smile.

“What's your name?” he asked.

“Sophia...”  I said, but I stopped short.

The snide voices of the numerous people who had scoffed at my full name replayed in my mind.  

I swallowed, forcing myself to appear pleasant.  “... Lewis.”

The gray-haired man’s expression remained indifferent.  I swallowed, gesturing down to the book.

“Uhh… please enjoy your book.”  I said, nodding my head.  I lay my hands down on the counter.

The handsome stranger surprised me by reaching over and clasping my hand in his.  My heart skipped a beat as my eyes flickered upward to meet his own.  His expression was warm, enticing.  He gave my hand one firm shake.  His skin was rough, like leather hide.

“It was a pleasure to meet you… Sophia.” he said, an alluring grin on his face.  “I hope we will run into each other again.”

I was speechless.  I could only nod my head, my face heated with a furious blush.  He drew his fingers out from mine and stepped backward.

The gray haired man snapped the book closed, and without another glance towards me, whirled around to the door.  His long dark coat billowed in his wake.

The scent of wood smoke tickled my nose.  I flinched, biting the inside of my lip and holding my breath until both men had retreated out the door.