Jorick climbed to his feet. “That is the second time in a day that some witch has thrown me to the ground with magic,” he said. “I’m beginning to hate magic-users.”

Evin slapped his friend on the back. “I told you not to go banging on someone’s door like that. And at least this witch is a whole lot better looking than the last one.”

“Wizard.”

Startled, Evin looked up. The elf girl stood once more in the doorway. Heat rushed to his cheeks.

“Witches do their creepy spells without any regard to the theorems of magic and are, in general, incredibly disgusting hags.” Her hand fluttered to her chest and she raised her narrow chin. “I am a scholar of magic who takes pride in her work. There is a difference.”

“Wait till she’s old and wrinkled, then try and tell me she’s any different,” Jorick muttered.

Evin ignored him. Despite the girl’s condescension and bossiness, he needed her help. “Sorry. No offense.”

The girl shrugged. “Common mistake. Now get in here, we’re letting in a draft.”

Chapter Seven

For a moment, Evin stood in the darkness, suddenly unsure of whether he should trust a magic-using girl whose name he didn’t even know, no matter how pretty she was. Then, the girl muttered a word, and a warm glow filled their surroundings.

Evin found himself at the entrance to a library that was far more vast than he would have thought from outside. In fact, he was quite sure it shouldn’t have been physically possible for a room this wide and this tall to exist inside the small building they’d entered.

Shelves made of dark, polished, and carved wood lined every wall, and towering bookcases were set in three rows through the center of the room. At one end of the stacks sat two plush chairs and a short marble table. Glass orbs filled with light hovered overhead.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of leather-bound books lined the shelves. The musky smell of aging parchment met Evin’s nose. Here and there on the shelves, between the tomes, sat unusual, foreign artifacts that Evin was sure must be magic: statues vaguely shaped like humans, crystal balls, gems the size of his fists, animal claws the size of his head.

The girl stepped in front of Evin and Jorick. “This is Boccob Library.” She gestured around her with a long, spindly wand that she now clutched in her right hand. The wand’s wooden shaft was dark and polished, with runic symbols carved into it, and decorated with raised images of birds in flight. At the base of the wand, a round, green gem cast a gentle glow. “It is rare that any non-magic-user is ever allowed in here, but I can’t very well send you two off to fight gnolls unprepared.”

“Gnolls?” Jorick asked. “What are you talking about? We’re looking for dog-men.”