Page 71 of Fiendish Delights
Cumbubbling bollocks. Hugo was smarter than he appeared – but so was Arnold Enger.
‘We’ve been instructed not to give you any books relating to dragons.’ She wrung her hands together, clearly unhappy. ‘Their authority supersedes ours. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.’
Sandy appeared to be on our side, and she obviously wasn’t a fan of censorship. I reckoned I could persuade her to see sense and let us use the books we needed.
Hugo wasn’t even slightly nonplussed. ‘I completely understand. We’re not here for books about dragons, so you have no need to be concerned and you can tell the ODA to relax.’
‘In that case, how can I help you?’ Sandy asked.
Hugo gestured towards our linked arms. ‘We’d like some information about the best places in Wales for some romantic trysts.’ He pulled me closer. ‘Places that are secluded, atmospheric, contain a great deal of history and,’ he deepened his voice to an extraordinary husk, ‘are very, very swoon worthy.’
Swoon worthy? Seriously? I glared at him. He pretended not to notice.
Sandy looked delighted. She gave us a broad smile and pointed at a desk and chairs nearby. ‘If you wait there, I’ll see what I can rustle up.’
As soon as we sat down, my glare increased in intensity. ‘Really, Hugo?’
‘I had to tell her something. All I need are some old books.’ He leaned forward. ‘We don’t want Sandy to get suspicious so you should hold my hand. And look deeply into my eyes to prove that you’re besotted by my presence.’
‘I should have stuck to my instincts and left you in Scotland. If that dragon doesn’t kill you, then I might.’
Hester rolled her eyes. ‘Get a room.’
‘That’s what I keep saying,’ Hugo murmured.
My cheeks started to warm. Fortunately, Otis stepped in to save me. ‘I don’t understand. How will old books about romantic places help us find a dragon?’
Hugo grinned. ‘It’s amazing what information you can worm out of unusual places, Otis.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘You’ll see.’
Sandy wasgood at her job. Before long we had a pile of books sitting on the table between us. Unfortunately, while she’d done as Hugo had asked I was unconvinced that a book such asThe Beating Hearts of Bright Welsh Loverswould help us.
‘I wasn’t always the paragon of excellence that you see before you,’ Hugo said.
I snorted. Loudly.
‘In fact,’ he continued as if I hadn’t made a sound, ‘when I was a teenager, I was somewhat lazy. I wasn’t studious – I preferred spending time outdoors rather than inside libraries. The less time I spent poring over books, the better.’
I wasn’t sure where he was going with this. ‘Okay,’ I said slowly. ‘So?’
‘So I used my unwillingness to spend hours looking for shortcuts.’ He ran his finger down the spines of the books in front of us before selecting the oldest, shabbiest volume. ‘And I reckon that shortcut will help us now.’ He opened it, smiling slightly as its pages creaked, then lifted it to his nose and sniffed. ‘In fact, I’m certain it will.’
While I fully understood the alluring smell of old books, I remained confused. ‘Hugo,’ I said, staring at the book in his hands. ‘I don’t see how?—’
I didn’t finish my sentence. Instead, I shoved my chair back to put as much distance between myself and the book as possible. ‘That page moved,’ I said. ‘You didn’t touch it. It moved by itself.’ My hand went involuntarily to Gladys. I knew there were sentient swords – but could there also be sentient books?
‘What’s going on?’ Otis sounded nervous.
‘Shhh,’ Hugo cautioned. ‘You don’t want to scare it away.’
‘Scare the … book?’ I asked, feeling foolish.
‘Don’t be silly, Daisy,’ Hester said. ‘You can’t scare a book.’ She looked at Hugo with wide eyes. ‘Can you?’
He chuckled. ‘No. But you can scare away this little fellow.’ He moved his little finger to edges of the paper and a tiny slithering creature appeared from between the pages. It was the colour of parchment and little more than the length of my thumbnail although far more slender in width. It had a forked tail and two quivering antenna. It was as ugly as sin.
Hester opened her mouth to shriek but I grabbed her before she could make a sound and glanced over my shoulder to check on Sandy. Luckily she was busy with her own book piles.
The creature opened its mouth, allowing its tongue to dart out and lick Hugo’s finger. I watched it, my body stiff. I was none the wiser as to what was going on, but my sense of ick was growing by the second.
