Willow & Ink: Dust Between The Pages

Chapter 1

     A cool spring morning carried the chirping birds through the dewy air. The faint scent of tiny florals bloomed along the vines climbing the historic walls of the downtown shopping street. Ellie stepped up to an old door dulled by time, pulled a key from her pocket, and turned it in the lock.

     Behind the door waited a bookstore that hadn’t been opened in years.

     Ellie had noticed the shop when she was a child and felt immediately drawn to it. It sat quietly at the end of the street, alone and overlooked, as though no one else knew it was there. Ellie always had. She had known, even then, that one day she would need to open it.

     Growing up, her mother often ran errands in town, and Ellie always found a reason to wander down the street to check on the store. She would peer through the windows, convinced she could hear voices inside, only to find rows of dusty books in an empty room. One day, she would tell herself. One day.

     Now, she stood hesitating, the key heavy in her hand.

     This was her dream. She couldn’t believe that now—now—she would finally discover the part of herself that had been waiting for this moment. It felt as though the store itself had been waiting for her. No one else had bought it. It had simply remained. Even the auctioneer had thought she was crazy for wanting the place without ever stepping inside.

     So why was she scared?

     “Isn’t she going to open the door already?” a muffled voice muttered from within.

     Ellie stiffened.

     She leaned closer to the textured glass, peering through layers of dust, but saw no movement inside. Her heart thudded, curiosity outweighing fear. She slid the key in fully and unlocked the door.

     “Hello?” she called, her voice uncertain. She hoped the sound had been imagined. She had no idea what she would do if someone answered.

     No reply came.

     Ellie stepped inside and approached the dust-laden counter. She pulled a rag and wood cleaner from her bag, sprayed the surface, and wiped away a clean strip through the grime. After setting her bag down, she gazed around the shop in awe.

     “I can’t believe I did it,” she muttered.

     Then she sneezed.

     “But wow—there is a lot of dusting to do.”

     She inhaled again, her nose immediately tickling in protest.

     “I should prop the door open,” she said to no one in particular. “Maybe that’ll help.”

     Ellie pushed the door wider, fighting against the stubborn hinge as dust clogged the mechanism. She wedged it open, then reached for her headphones, connecting them to her phone and pressing play.

 

 

     “Darn it. I meant to bring the charger.”

     She dropped the headphones back into her bag. Hours had passed, and she’d barely made a dent in the mess. Her throat had begun to ache from the dust, and she realized—too late—that she’d forgotten to take her allergy medicine.

     “I’m going to be suffering later,” she laughed weakly.

     “Doesn’t she know there’s an easier way?”

     “Clearly not. Nobody would choose the hard way. It’s miserable.”

     Ellie froze.

     Her headphones were dead. Her phone was silent.

     “Hello?” she called again, her voice echoing through the shop.

     Clang.

     A crash sounded from the far side of the store.

     Ellie gripped the cleaning spray and moved cautiously between the shelves, peering around each one. She knew it wasn’t much of a weapon—but maybe enough to slow someone down if she had to run.

     She rounded the final shelf and stopped short.

     “But… you—you can’t real,” she tried to convince herself.

     Stunned by what stood before her, Ellie couldn’t move at all.

 

Chapter 2

     The creature Ellie had seen bolted, skidding across the floor and crashing into a nearby shelf. Books toppled forward, burying it beneath a cascade of thuds and dust.

     Ellie didn’t think — she moved.

     She rushed forward, yanking books aside. The creature growled, a sharp, startled sound, and—

     Sparks flew from its mouth.

     “Ow, Pip! Don’t light me up,” another voice scolded.

     Ellie froze. “Who said that?”

     The creature scrambled backward, clearly frightened now, its body pressed low to the floor, wings tucked tight. When no one answered, Ellie’s gaze returned to it.

     “I— I…” Her voice wavered. “This is crazy. Dragons— they’re real?”

      Still stunned, Ellie lowered herself to her knees. She didn’t know what she was doing, or what she was supposed to do next. Should she run? It had just tried to burn her.

     “Hi there, little guy,” she said softly, extending her hand. It felt ridiculous — and dangerous — but something told her to try anyway. To be gentle.

     “My name is Ellie. I just bought this store, and I was hoping to clean her up so I could open shop.”

     The small purple dragon relaxed inch by inch. His tense muscles softened as he sniffed her hand, then gave it a tentative lick. Encouraged, he circled her, nudging and sniffing curiously. When he returned to her front, his tail began to wag — slow, hesitant taps at first, then wild, joyful circles that thumped against the ancient wooden floor.

     Ellie laughed, breathless and disbelieving. “What’s your name?”

     “His name is Pip,” another voice replied.

     Pip’s ears perked. He darted down the aisle, then paused, turning back to look at her.

     “Ruff,” he barked.

     Ellie blinked. “I didn’t know dragons barked. But five minutes ago, I didn’t know they existed, so I guess that tracks.”

     “Ruff.”

     “Okay, okay. I’m coming.” She rose to her feet, unsure why she trusted him — only that she did.

      Pip led her toward the front of the shop, stopping at the counter where she’d left her bag. A book now sat beside it.

     Ellie frowned. “That’s funny. I don’t remember seeing that there.” She rubbed her temple. “First the voices, now appearing books. It must be the dust.”

     “Pip put me up here,” the voice replied dryly.

     Ellie stiffened. “Is that— is that coming from—”

     “Yes, yes. It’s coming from me. The book.”

     She let out a breathy laugh. “Great. Now I’m hallucinating.”

     “You are not hallucinating. You are a Libre Magus.”

     “I’m a Sagittarius.”

     “Ugh. Libre Magus is not a zodiac sign.” The voice sighed, sounding very much like it would have pinched the bridge of its nose if it had hands.

     “I’m sorry,” Ellie said carefully. “What’s a Libre Magus?”

     “A Libre Magus is, essentially, a book witch.”

     “A what?”

     “A book witch,” the voice repeated patiently. “A witch who can communicate with books. A keeper of them.”

     “A book witch…” Ellie paused, staring at the counter. “Okay.”

     “Chooo!”

     Pip sneezed, skidding backward a few feet as bright, harmless sparks burst from his snout like tiny fireworks.

     “Bless you,” Ellie giggled.

     “You must address the dust,” the book said flatly, “before Pip ignites the entire store.”

     “I don’t know,” Ellie said, smiling. “The fireworks are kind of cute.”

     “They are cute until you’re patting out embers.”

     She sighed. “Alright. Then how do you suggest I clean this place? I’ve been at it for hours and barely made a dent. It’ll take me weeks.”

     “Complaining,” the voice noted. “Noun. A delay disguised as observation.”

     Ellie huffed. “What do I call you?”

     “I am known as The Archivist,” the book said, its tone shifting unmistakably toward pride. “But you may call me Arch.”

     “Alright, Arch,” Ellie said, reaching for another rag and the cleaning spray. “Then let me get back to it before Pip burns the shop down.”

     “Wait!” Arch snapped.

     Ellie paused.

     “What if,” he said, more carefully this time, “there were another way?”

 

Chapter 3

     Ellie paused and turned back toward him

     “Another way?” she asked carefully, curiosity and worry tangled together. “What do you mean, another way?”

     “You know,” Arch replied dryly, “another way to clean the store. You are a book witch, after all.”

     Before she could respond, Arch opened himself on the counter, pages flipping rapidly until they stopped with a decisive snap. Ellie stepped closer.

     “Third line down,” Arch instructed. “You’ll find the location for Beginner’s Guide for the Libre Magus.”

     Ellie scanned the page, still trying to process how quickly her day had unraveled into impossibility. As her eyes found the line Arch indicated, the words shifted — growing larger, then settling back into place as if they’d only wanted to be noticed.

     She blinked.

     “You aren’t imagining it,” Arch said. “That’s normal.”

     “What’s normal?” Ellie asked.

     “The letters animating themselves for you.”

     “…Right,” Ellie said faintly. “Of course it is.”

     She read aloud, focusing hard. “Third row. Second bookcase on the left. Fifth shelf from the bottom. Twelve books from the right.”

     Ellie moved down the aisles, noticing the small brass numbers affixed to the shelves. One. Two. Three. She turned down the third aisle and stopped at the second bookcase on the right.

     “Other side,” Arch called.

     Ellie shifted to the left bookcase and began counting again. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. She crouched, continuing along the shelf. One… two… three… all the way to twelve.

     Beginner’s Guide for the Libre Magus.

     She slid the book free.

     “Hi there,” the book said brightly. “My name is Hopewell. How may I assist you today?”

     Ellie exhaled a quiet laugh. “Do all the books talk?”

     “Yes,” the books replied in perfect unison.

     “…Alrighty then.”

     She looked back down at Hopewell. “Hi, Hopewell. Arch recommended you to help me clean the shop.”

     “Of course!” Hopewell opened eagerly, pages fluttering until she landed on one marked Clean Tabernam. “That’s the spell you’ll need.”

     Ellie leaned closer. “Okay. What do I do?”

     “You say the words Clean Tabernam,” Hopewell said cheerfully, “and voilà — the store is clean.”

     “That’s it?” Ellie smiled, nerves giving way to excitement. “Sounds simple enough.”

     She took a steadying breath. This was it. Her first spell.

     “Clean Tabernam,” she said.

     Nothing happened.

     Hopewell giggled. “Oh, not like that, silly. You have to stand at the front of the store and proclaim it properly.”

     “Oh.” Ellie stood, rubbing her legs as the pins-and-needles sensation faded. She walked to the front of the shop where Arch lay on the counter and Pip sat nearby, scratching behind one ear.

     Ellie faced the store, Hopewell sitting open in one hand. She raised her free hand the way she’d seen people do when addressing a crowd, squared her shoulders, and planted her feet.

     With confidence she didn’t quite feel, she declared, “Clean Tabernam.”

     The air shifted.

     “Oh no,” Ellie whispered.

     “What have I done?”

Chapter 4

     The bookcases lurched, one by one, tilting like dominoes. Books slid from their shelves and crashed to the floor, piling atop one another as thick clouds of dust burst into the air, clinging to every floating particle like glue. Pip yelped and scrambled behind the counter, curling into the smallest space he could find.

     “Ouch.”

     “Ooof.”

     “What?!”

     Voices rang out from every corner of the shop, overlapping and startled.

     “Oh my goodness,” Arch coughed, his voice muffled by dust. “You need to get a handle on that.”

     Ellie stood frozen, her chest tight. “What— what did I do?” Her voice trembled as she took in the chaos she’d caused.

     “Well, for starters,” Arch said dryly, “books do not enjoy being yelled at. And second, magic that isn’t guided tends to surge.”

     “I was just trying to clean,” Ellie said, tears pricking her eyes. “I didn’t even know I had magic until today. How was I supposed to know?”

     “It’s alright, honey,” Hopewell chimed in gently. “It happens. Truly.” Her pages rustled soothingly. “Let’s try again — but this time, softer. There’s no need to shout it from the rooftops. Think of it like a parent asking a child to clean their room. Authoritative, yes. But calm. Present.”

     Ellie shook her head. “I can’t. What if I make it worse? What if I ruin everything?” She grabbed the wobbly book cart near the counter, steadying herself. “It’s my first day. I can’t destroy my dream on my first day.”

     “Ellie,” Arch said quietly.

     Something in his tone made her pause.

     “I’ve watched you since you were little,” he continued. “I saw you every time you passed those windows. I saw your green eyes light up whenever you spotted a place where the dust wasn’t quite so thick.” His voice softened. “It’s been decades since this store was opened. Over a century since we’ve been able to speak to someone like you.”

     The air seemed to still.

     “This story,” Arch said, “has been waiting for you to open it. You’ve already begun the prologue. It’s time to step into the chapters.”

     Pip peeked out from behind the counter and padded toward Ellie, nudging her leg insistently.

     She knelt and rested her hand on his warm head, breathing him in — soot, dust, and sparks and all. Then she looked around the shop again. The mess. The fallen books. The voices she’d heard her whole life.

     They hadn’t been in her head.

     They had been waiting.

     “Also,” Arch added lightly, “the shelves are quite heavy. Unless you plan on lifting them yourself, I suggest trying again.”

     “You’ve got this,” he assured.

     Ellie stood, brushing dust from her jeans. Her hands still shook, but her feet felt steadier now.

     She nodded once.

     “Okay,” she said. “Let’s try again.”

 

Chapter 5

     Ellie stood tall once more, Hopewell resting safely behind her now rather than in her hands.

     “It can’t get that much worse,” she said, her voice unsteady but rooted.

     She thought of her mother then — of going into town as a child with her while she ran errands. She would let me go check on my shop.

     “You may run and check on your store,” her mother would say, crouching down to Ellie’s height. The words were gentle, but the meaning was firm. A hug would follow, warm and brief, and then her mother would point to her dainty, gold-colored watch. “By twelve,” she’d say, smiling. “Or no lunch for you.”

     Holding that memory close, Ellie inhaled and stilled herself.

     “Clean Tabernam.”

     The bookcases trembled — then began to rise, lifting themselves from their fallen positions. Shelves leaned, corrected, and steadied. Books floated upward, sliding neatly back into their assigned places as if they’d never been disturbed. Dust thinned and vanished, as though an unseen hand were wiping a window clean.

     Light shifted.

     The store breathed.

     Every corner gleamed — from the baseboards to the windowsills — and the shop stood ready once again.

     “Much better,” Arch remarked, approval evident in his tone.

     Pip flapped his wings, lifting briefly into the air before landing against Ellie’s cheek, showering her with enthusiastic kisses. She laughed as he dropped back to the floor, barked once, and took off toward the rear shelves.

     Ellie followed.

     Pip stopped at a door she hadn’t noticed before — ancient carved wood wrapped in detailed vines. Etched across the top were the words Draco Agitur. Curious, Ellie reached for the handle and opened it.

     Inside sat a single glass jar on a shelf, as though on display. A small note leaned against it.

     Don’t let him eat too many. He’ll get a stomach ache.

     Pip barked eagerly, wagging his entire body.

     “I’m guessing these are for you,” Ellie said.

     Another bark.

     She opened the jar and tossed him a treat. Pip caught it midair and bounded off, triumphant.

     Ellie closed the door and paused, breathing in deeply. Relief settled over her. Excitement, too. A quiet sense that the world, for once, was exactly as it should be.

     “Hey, Arch,” she called, walking back to the counter. “Was that door there before?”

     “You will find,” Arch replied, “that this shop offers new worlds and mysteries as they become necessary. It is up to you to open the doors.”

     Ellie glanced back.

     The door was gone.

     Smiling softly, she retrieved the checklist from her bag and found the pen tucked neatly into its pocket. She checked off the first item.

     Clean up store.

     “Step one completed,” she whispered.

     Her gaze drifted to an open space in the corner — just large enough for something new.

     “Hey, Arch,” she said thoughtfully. “What do you think about a café?”