Page 21 of Half Agony, Half Hope

When Pearl arrived at the Winterbourne Library on Monday, she could feel the waves of anxiety rolling off of Corvus as soon as she walked in the room. He didn’t notice her at first and stood looking out the window, absently rubbing small circles on his chest over his heart. Mercutio, sensing his anxiety, immediately popped out of her bag, trotted over to Corvus, stood on his hind legs with his front paws on Corvus’ leg, and put his wet nose in Corvus’ hand.

Corvus bent down and scratched behind Mercutio’s ears, and Pearl could hear him whisper. “You’ve always been such a good, little chap.”

“Everything ok?”

Putting a hand on the back of his neck, Corvus looked up at her with pinched eyebrows and rueful eyes. “Is it that obvious?”

“Mercutio doesn’t often leap to the rescue out of my bag.”

As Corvus went to stand, Mercutio jumped into his arms and contentedly settled in. “I guess I’m just worried that maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to go to Paris. I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated in any way.”

Sitting in what she now thought of as her chair and sipping her tea, Pearl’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, yes. It’s a great hardship for me to go to the City of Lights to see rare books and get paid for it. It was a hard decision.”

Corvus settled in the chair next to her, and Mercutio circled a few times until he curled into a comfortable ball in Corvus’ lap. “I’m pleased to hear it.”

“I don’t usually have trouble saying if I don’t want to do something, although I will say I’m not sure I like how chummy my familiar is getting with you.”

“I’ve heard he’s an excellent judge of character.”

“Yes, which is why I’m concerned he’s so far off the mark this time.”

Corvus laughed so heartily that Mercuito leapt away with a dirty look thrown over his shoulder. “And see there, all is right with the world once again. Are you ready to go?”

“Not even close. You don’t really expect me to whisk off to Paris without asking any questions, do you?”

Putting his hands up in defeat, Corvus replied “Ask away!”

“What dealer will we be talking to, what book are you interested in acquiring, what kind of assistance are you looking for from me, and do you really need me to go? Wouldn’t my time be better spent here?”

Ticking off answers to each of her questions by raising a finger for each one, Corvus answered confidently. “We’ll be talking to Simone Moreau, I’m interested in acquiring a book on cursebreaking, I need you to help me determine if it is safe to transport and to determine its authenticity, and…am I missing one?”

“Do you really need me?”

Too late, Pearl realized she’d fallen into a trap as he replied with a devilish smile, "Desperately."

“Shut-up. You sound like Frederick.”

It was the perfect comeback based on the affronted look on his face. “I will have you know that…” he stopped. “That did sound a bit like Fred, didn’t it. I’ve been spending too much time with him.”

“I mean the two of you grew up together - he’s bound to have rubbed off on you.”

Corvus changed the subject with a small shudder. “Anyway, what do you say?”

“Isn’t your mother a fantastic authenticator? I’m not bad, but she’s better.”

Corvus’ posture immediately went rigid, and any traces of his earlier smile dropped off his face. “No. My mother’s help comes with strings attached, and we’re not on speaking terms at the moment.”

The knee-jerk reaction from Pearl was to apologize, but before the words could slip out, she stopped herself. She absolutely was not sorry. Let the old bat get a taste of her own medicine. And Simone Moreau was one of the most famous magical book dealers in Europe. Getting her foot in the door to meet her was a golden opportunity. If Pearl could show her talents as a cursebreaker, she might have a shot at getting on Simone’s speed dial. Books sold much better when they had no threat of bodily harm attached to them. But Pearl kept her reply simple. “Fair enough. And the title of the book?”

Corvus hesitated, and it only made Pearl want to probe deeper. Why was he hiding the title?

“It’s Generational Curses: Applications and Reversals for England’s Old Families.”

Ah. That’s why he didn’t want to share. Bloodline curses were old and ugly, and most of the old families pretended like they didn’t exist. They were also incredibly rare because it took incredible power, resources, and knowledge to both apply and remove a generational curse. Pearl had never even heard of them until a reporter for the only magical paper in the UK had done an exposé on the death of one of the Yarwood heirs when his parents tried to impose a generational curse that would prevent him from marrying outside of specific family lines. Pearl had been appalled, and also a part of her had wondered. She’d done extensive research and found that many of the blood curses were connected to preventing heirs to old families from marrying outside of their family’s wishes. Could that have been why Corvus left her? But why hadn’t he told her? Did the curse prevent him from doing so? The book he mentioned was one of the only ones she hadn’t been able to get her hands on due to its rarity and expense. As she wasn’t part of one of the old families, it would be even harder for her to gain access to it. But she was gaining access to it now. “I’m ready to go. I’m going to leave Mercutio here as I’m concerned about him joining us in long distance magical travel.”

“Just like that?” Corvus’ eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he didn’t question it further. He simply stood, and held out his hand for Pearl to take. When she did, he tucked it into his crooked elbow as though it it was something he did every day. But it was the first time Pearl had been this close to him in over nine years, and she was almost knocked sideways at her immediate reaction to his proximity – it felt so natural and so right. His hand was on hers, their sides were touching as they walked, she could feel the heat from his body, and when he turned to her with a smile that made his dimples appear, she felt warmth bloom within her. It was almost overwhelming, and she missed a step as they walked. Corvus immediately stopped and turned to her, “Are you ok?”

It was embarrassing how shrill her voice was when it came out. “Oh, yes! Peachy keen!” Peachy keen? Peachy keen?!? Was she a grandmother now?