Page 16 of Dragon Unleashed
“I see.” He frowns and goes back to merely staring over my shoulder while I work.
A moment later, I lift my foot off the pedal to reposition the fabric. In the silence, I can’t help but ask, “You don’t have machines where you come from?”
“Not like this. Ours do not make sounds like that. And we use needle and thread when we stitch clothing.”
His answer makes me wonder just how many modern amenities they’re going without in his world.
“And electricity? Do you have that?”
“What?”
“Light.” I gesture overhead to the fixture currently illuminating my tiny living room.
He frowns. “We have gas-powered lamps but none that stick to the ceiling.”
I can’t help picturing a world stuck in medieval times with total Middle Earth vibes and perfectly toned warriors running around, willing and ready to defend a lady’s honor. Clearly, reading human fiction is getting to me.
“What about running water?” I ask.
He stared at me. “Your water has legs? It can run like a man?”
I shake my head, a massively embarrassing snort escaping before I can stop it. Ducking my head, I turn back to the sewing machine.
“You must be very wealthy and important to have a fancy machine like this.”
I shoot him a wry look. “Neither, actually. I’m pretty much the lowest-ranking person here. I’m an intern.” At his blank look, I add, “A librarian.”
“A librarian.”
“That’s right. And if I don’t put you back into your book where you belong, I won’t even be that.” I pause, trying not to think too hard about what will happen to me if and when we’re caught.
“You really think I came out of a story?” His tone is mocking, and I can’t help but look up—straight into his enigmatic eyes. Buried in his dark gaze is wariness.
Right, like I’m the crazy one here.
I stand and stalk over to where his book is propped on the coffee table. Grabbing it, I march back to where he stands and hold it out.
“Here,” I say. “Take it.”
“For what purpose?”
“Read it. You can read, can’t you?”
“Of course, I can read,” he scoffs. “Everyone in Astronia is properly educated.” The way he snaps the words makes it clear I’ve offended him.
“How wonderful for you all. Earth is still working on that.”
He stares at me. For a second, I think he’s going to ask about the Earth part, but instead, he takes the book and opens it to the first page. Scanning quickly, I watch as his doubt transforms into shock.
When he looks up again, he doesn’t bother to hide his surprise. “This story is about Astronia. The war... the hoard. My father defeated them, drove them out of our lands.” He flips pages, skimming sections in wonder. “It’s all here. Even me.” He looks awestruck. Dumbfounded.
It’s kind of surreal; watching a character from a book read his own story. It’s also expressly forbidden. But hey, we’ve come this far. When he looks up again, I can see that he believes me. Apparently, so much so that his next words make me instantly defensive. “You conjured me then.”
“Whoa, there, Mr. Practical Magic, I did no such thing.”
“But you are a witch?”
“No,” I say, trying to hide my discomfort at this particular line of questioning. “Well, probably not.”
