A Book of Spirits and Thieves

“Maddox . . . ,” she managed. “Please . . . I believe in you.”


His fear vanished and was replaced with steely determination. He would not let the spirit hurt this girl. He would not let anyone hurt this girl.

He held up Barnabas’s ring and focused again, just as he had before the spirit was summoned. There was another shadow there, deep inside him. It was made of death magic. It called to the darkness.

“I command you, spirit! Leave her and come to me. Obey me now!”

The spirit stopped swirling, freezing in place. Then, letting out a horrible, ragged cry, it streamed toward Maddox, toward the silver ring he held. It collided violently with the metal, then disappeared.

Becca fell to the ground and Maddox rushed to her side. He tried to gather her into his arms, but of course his hands slipped right through her form.

“Apologies,” he said, his eyes stinging as the fear and panic he’d been holding back now crashed over him again. He shoved the ring in his pocket, telling himself he’d bury it later, after he’d made sure she was all right. “A million apologies for putting you in harm’s way.”

She was a spirit who laughed. Who breathed. Who fell. Who got hurt. A spirit who believed in him when he didn’t believe in himself. Who’d given him something to fight for when he didn’t even know he was a fighter.

A spirit who’d come to mean so much to him so quickly that his heart ached at the thought of ever losing her.

“I’m okay. Thank God . . .” She reached up to touch his face, her trembling fingers hovering just over his skin.

He frowned down at her. “Trust me, I am no god.”

“I know.” She managed the slightest edge of a smile. “I forgot where I was for a second. But I’m not thanking any goddess.”

“You confuse me.”

“I don’t mean to, really. And if I might say it again, you’re amazing. You are amazing. Are you hearing me?”

“Amazing enough to nearly get you killed.” He watched with unguarded relief as the color came back to her face. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m not going anywhere just yet. I’m haunting you, remember?”

Barnabas watched, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression grim, as Maddox and Becca slowly returned to the campfire.

“No more spirit-summoning tonight,” Maddox told him fiercely.

He nodded. “But you did it. Of course I couldn’t see anything, but it looks like it went well.”

“Not well at all.”

“I disagree. You summoned the spirit and then you trapped it, just as I expected you could. Do you now believe in the greater possibilities of your magic?”

Maddox and Becca exchanged a long glance before Maddox looked at Barnabas, nodding once. “I do.”

Barnabas gave him a big grin. “Glad to hear it.”





Chapter 19


CRYSTAL



“Excuse me, miss, but can you help me find a book?”

Crys turned from the bookshelf she was organizing to face a customer, a tall man with thick glasses. Her mother had closed the shop for four days, but it couldn’t stay shuttered any longer than that. The doors opened for business again on Thursday, and both Julia and Crys were on duty—her mother at the front register, Crys shelving books and straightening up in the back.

“Sure, what are you looking for?”

“It’s for my daughter. Something about a princess.”

“Do you have anything more to go on?”

“I think there’s a dragon in it? Also, the princess wears some sort of grocery bag instead of a gown.”

Crys nodded. “That definitely narrows it down. It’s The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch, one of my all-time favorites. I think we have a few copies in stock.” She showed him to the children’s nook, where she located a copy. He inspected the cover happily.

“Thank you! Tracking down precious books must be your calling. My daughter will love this.”

He went to pay for the book as Crys tried to figure out if that was a compliment or a curse.

She knew that working in a bookshop all her life wasn’t her calling. Maybe Becca’s, but not hers.

Still, as she shelved, a part of her—the part that had once loved this shop and its books with the same fierceness of the family members who’d founded it—rose to the surface. Surrounded by the intricate cover art, the grand-sounding author names, the intriguing titles that promised adventure and escape between the crisp covers . . .

“Crys,” her mother called, breaking her reverie. “Come up here.”

The Paper Bag Princess customer had left by the time Crys emerged from the maze of shelves. “Yeah?”

“A package just came for you.” She nodded at a box on the counter.

Crys approached it cautiously. “From who?”

“I don’t know. There’s no return address.” She paused. “Well, are you going to open it?”

“I haven’t had much luck opening mysterious packages this week.”

“At least this time it’s addressed to you,” she replied pointedly, one eyebrow arched.