Pain exploded on the back of my arm as I stumbled forward, and the echo of a panicked "Excuse me!" reached my ears. Looking up, I could barely discern the retreating figure of a worker in a red smock and teal shirt, rushing away frantically. I watched as they knocked into a display of books to avoid a large bag placed on the ground next to someone in line.
Dozens of books clattered onto the stained nutmeg floor as he continued his mad dash down the curving aisles, heading towards the front of the line somewhere out of sight. Shifting the weight of my backpack I regained my balance and shrugged at the people in the queue closest to me.
The owner of the offending bag grumbled as he started picking the displaced books up and began meticulously shelving them back on the display feeling obligated, I imagined, to sort them as only an obsessive compulsive book nerd would.
Taking a step back into the line I grasped my precious first edition of “The Chronicles of the Magi Claeffen: Book One” tightly to my chest.
The abrupt cacophony, followed by its sudden absence, drew my attention to the classical music playing over the bookstore’s speakers. Strangely, I hadn’t heard any announcements or advertisements since the line finally left me standing in the air conditioned entryway.
Surrounded by the pleasant smell of old books and natural lighting I found myself quite liking the old building. The main walkway was lined by large white columns carved in a way that made them resemble oversized stacked books.
I’d definitely be moving this place up on my list for future purchases. Even though it is a bit far from where I live it would be worth the day trip for the atmosphere and to skim through the stacks without the constant droning of subliminal corporate marketing.
Unfortunately getting shoved hadn’t just startled me but confirmed that I was still nowhere near the front of the line. I frowned at this discovery and let out an audible sigh as I idly remarked, "I can't even see the author's table". Silent nods echoed my exasperation.
Everyone’s excitement was diminishing from the long hours standing and the unbearably slow shuffle forward. We were all pretty enthusiastic before dawn when the line had started, the cool early morning air amplified our eager conversations and was occasionally accented by the interrupting sounds of traffic.
That state of excited chatter, the kind that brings fans together and gives complete strangers the opportunity to make new friends, had mostly ended about two hours ago.
I could still hear groups breaking out with laughter, sometimes catching the indistinct sounds of a loud debate, all overlaid on an undercurrent of people recording or talking on their phones. However, the overall enthusiasm had died down considerably.
There were a lot of people recording, actually. I hadn’t realized it before but really, who could blame them? This was going to be the first sighting of Felix de Vere, author of “The Chronicles of the Magi Claeffen” Not only that but it was going to be a book signing!
If the announcement was to be believed then it’s also set to be the only book signing, ever. These autographed books would probably be worth their weight in gold.
It had been two days ago that I had received the most shocking notification from the author's news and updates post,
ONE TIME ONLY!
Special appearance and book signing on the 22nd!
Starts at 8 am and ends at 11 am.
Location and city to be announced at midnight of the day.
After reading it I had spent hours confirming its authenticity. I couldn't believe the Felix de Vere was finally going to come out of hiding, at a book signing no less! There were no known legitimate copies signed by the mysterious writer. This was huge.
It had been 20 years since the first book of "The Chronicles of the Magi Claeffen'' had started climbing the bestseller list. After the fifth book had been released within just three short years there was even talk about turning it into a high budget movie but the author had been a recluse the whole time and no one had ever been able to get a meeting to acquire the rights. In fact, nobody had been able to learn anything more than what was provided by his website.
This was to be the first sighting of the author anywhere and his reclusive nature gave rise to all kinds of fringe fan theories, such as the writer actually being a collective rather than a single individual, given the variance in tone from book to book. Of course, there have been wilder theories, with some people even suggesting that the author might be a time traveling alien from space with two hearts. I ran across many such ridiculous theories in the first hour of my research into the notification. Today those theories were going to be debunked by his appearance.
However, the theory that surprised me the most I learned while chatting to other fans about the legitimacy of the notification. One person, “Wizzy55”, was a newer addition to our internet group and shared his latest theory that implied the author had left hidden clues in a specific chapter in the last book foretelling that this would happen.
I immediately grabbed my copy and inspected the quoted chapter. I had to agree that it did indeed seem to allude to this very event. All my notes on the chapter had left me with questions at the time, so it was nice to get a bit of closure on that. It was really starting to look like my theories might actually be true!
The next morning I awoke groggily to the incessant chiming of my laptop as I was bombarded with messages. I stumbled out of bed while rubbing my sore and tired eyes, silently begrudging myself for having stayed up so late researching.
I had no less than three dozen messages from various people all asking for my take on a new update that had been posted on the author's official website. Immediately I brought it up as seeing an update on the website in of itself was a rarity and a most welcome surprise, but the content was definitely unexpected.
The post outlined a set of rules. Specifically a list of rules regarding the event and reading over it I was left feeling a bit confused. One of the rules was that there was to be absolutely no sharing of the bookstore’s location. This made me wonder how the location would be shared in the first place. If it was just going to be posted on the website wouldn’t everyone know anyways? The rest of the rules left me just as confused.
No live transmissions, including video calls.
No releasing recordings until the day after.
You couldn’t even share the location or timing of the event in the recordings themselves.
I had no idea how they thought they were going to enforce these rules. The strange nature of them left me feeling skeptical. Was this whole thing going to be a big bust? Would the mundane ineptitude of the event planning be what invalidated my theories?
All the rules were super weird, but one thing that caught my attention was how eerily the details matched with predictions made by Wizzy55. The accuracy was uncanny, in fact this fan theory was almost too on point.
I closed my laptop and began to get ready for work. I had let my stubble grow out a little too much during this whole series of events and was looking a bit disheveled. After getting ready I left my apartment and during my whole commute I rehearsed the questions I would ask the him. Passing miles of wind turbines on my way to the office I practiced how to ask, “Is this real?” Still the most direct and equally lame question I came up with that day.
Then, last night I sat at my kitchen table filled with not only the questions I would ask but also questions about where the author would hold the book signing with an equal amount of anxiety. I feared I would have to get a last minute flight and pray it was close enough for me to make it within the short window of the event.
My phone read 11:59 pm. Less than a minute remaining.
My foot was anxiously shaking up and down as I actually began to sweat in anticipation.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
I landed on the ground as, despite my preparation, the alarm I had set startled me. I felt my heart beating furiously as I shuffled around grabbing for my phone where it had landed on the floor.
After retrieving it I brimmed with excitement as I refreshed the page and read the brightly colored notification right there on the author’s website.
Come to Ye Old Tales in Westmount.
Tell no one the location.
Recirculation of this notice will result in the cancellation of this one time event.
I picked myself up off the floor and sat back on the kitchen chair, quickly searching for any information on the place and to my amazement discovered that the bookstore was a local family run collector establishment just two cities over from me! It seemed they specialized in textbooks, classic stories, and collector editions. I think I even passed it a few times when traveling to visit my best friend Jon. What were the odds that of all the cities to be chosen for this exclusive event it would end up being one so close by?
Opening the mapping app on my phone I had toggled the street view and saw a small storefront with stone facing and pillars. It looked straight out of a historic guide for local architecture from the 1930s confirming it was the bookstore I was thinking of.
I grabbed my backpack and pressed a button on my phone, it started blurting out directions as I rushed out of my apartment. With my front door half open I reached into my bag and pulled out my earbuds as I made sure I hadn’t left my keys inside. I quickly closed the locked door and settled the earbuds in their place as I checked my watch to make sure it was connected to my phone. I gave the doorknob one last check before I proceeded to leap down the stairs from my apartment’s landing.
Suddenly the line gave way, interrupting my recollection as I finally got to take another step forward.
Wait, that was what, like.. nine hours ago that I left my apartment?
Leaning out of the line again I looked for the authors table.
Damn, still not in sight.
Glancing to my right the end cap shelves looked exactly the same as they had moments before. Hadn’t I just taken a step forward?
I looked around at the people in line, most were distracted looking at their screens or reading books. I brushed my hand across the soft spines of the nearest shelf as I read the titles.
Wait, these were the same books I was knocked into earlier, when was that?
I looked down at my watch and did a double take. It had been an hour?!
I pulled one of the textbooks from the shelf that I had picked up earlier and hadn't pushed back in all the way. I recalled it had a long title, something about analysis, and indeed the cover in my hand matched the one I remembered with a condensed white text on a blue cover that read, “An Introduction to Error Analysis: The Study of Uncertainties in Physical Measurements”.
Didn't I just take a step forward to this shelf? How am I stepping forward but going nowhere?!
I turned to the guy behind me to ask him his take on this unsettling development.
What had he said his name was again? Sven? Scott? Simon? Wait, definitely Spencer.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Suddenly, his phone rang, "Hey. Yeah I am still in line. I know, man. I know! I can't believe I’m actually here. Oh shit! No I’m not saying where. Dude I’m not about to ruin my chances! You will get nothing out of me, there's cameras everywhere. Hey, how's that-" Spencer abruptly stopped what he was saying and looked down at this phone and began shaking it.
I turned back around while reaching forward to tap the shoulder of the guy in front of me when my fingertips barely brushed his shirt. The line had taken another step forward without my noticing! Stepping forward I let my arm drop back down to my side. I swiveled my head to the right and found myself looking down an empty aisle.
I must be going a bit crazy.
I couldn't make out any of the book categories. Squinting I looked up to the top of the shelves. I discovered the placard closest to me was just out of sight and I could only make out that there were about six letters to the word.
Without thinking I gave up on trying to decipher my location and I pulled my phone out of my pocket with my free hand. I began playing a new cross platform MMORPG that I had found a few hours ago. I was fortunately, or unfortunately as the case may be, making lots of progress. I was already level 15.
Mindlessly I played as the line stepped forward.
"Oh Come on Really?!" I heard a random voice exclaim somewhere behind me. I looked around trying to find the person but was unable to identify them. I turned to see what titles of books were at my side.
Wait, what the fuck? These are the same titles I saw an hour ago!
Looking at my watch I saw the time was 9:15 am.
Hold on, I’d just leveled to 35 in what, fifteen minutes? That couldn’t be right. Pulling my phone up I looked down at the game. Yep, there it was clearly and in bold golden lettering, “LEVEL 35”
There is no way it's 9:15 am.
Sure enough though, that was exactly the time.
Quickly I toggled through the apps on my phone. Opening the fitness app I stared down in disbelief at 13,369 steps. I looked up to discover I was standing in the aisle between shelves again, rather than at the end of one. Looking back down, my phone's screen had turned off. Pressing my finger to the screen it flickered back on showing 536 steps and my excitement began to grow as all of my theories seemed to be validated.
Holy shit, this is proof!
Either proof of what had been happening and the reality of my theories or proof that I’ve lost my mind. I still wasn’t sure which.
Clutching my book tightly I looked around trying to see if anyone else had noticed the inconsistencies. Everyone, as far as I could see, looked like docile cattle waiting to be fed into the machine; an incandescent screen glow touching almost everyone's faces.
A stillness hit me and at the same time I could hear a low buzzing. Was it eerily quiet? I realized I hadn't heard anything since the outburst from somewhere behind me.
Looking back I saw the line still stretched out the front door. I felt a displacement of air as the line moved forward and saw Spencer's face pinched into a scowl as he glared at me.
Then I heard a velvety voice ask in an almost hypnotic tone,
"Who should I make this out to?"
I turned back around to see a hand reaching out towards me. I stared down at the man sitting behind the table. How had I gotten to the authors table? I had just looked up and down the line with no end in sight.
What is going on?
The soothing voice of the man slid across my senses like a warm caress,
"You do want your book signed, right, Mal?"
No, I didn't just want my book signed. What I wanted was to ask him about techniques from the books that seemed to really work. Yet in a zombie-like state I forgot to answer his question and handed the book down to his outstretched hand.
Wait, how does he know my name?
Then, realizing that others could see the scribbled notes of my theories in my now opened book, I panicked. I went to stop him but our eyes locked. His eyes were light brown with flecks of yellow… no, gold. It was like looking at a swirling aureate liquid in a crucible bowl. He handed the book back without ever blinking. I grasped it to my chest as I stepped out to the side of the table, not really knowing what I was doing.
I looked around again in confusion.
What just happened? I was going to ask him about my theories, but one minute I couldn’t even see the authors table, and the next I’m getting my book signed?
Wait, my book was signed!
Oh no.. Oh no, oh no!
He saw my notes and I didn’t get to ask any questions!
I dashed to the farthest corner in my line of sight and turned around placing my back to the bookshelves. I carefully cracked open the cover, doing everything I could to protect my notes from being seen.
There, in small print, in a spot I didn't even think there had been room to write in;
"To Mal. May all Your Dreams Come True. Lord of the Monolith, Claeffen"
Slamming the book closed I hissed a curse under my breath.
I can't believe this guy signed the book as the main character!
Not only had I not gotten to ask a question but the guy had the nerve to invalidate the signature by signing it as “Claeffen”.
Removing my bag from my shoulder I opened it, thrust the book in, and zipped it closed. I quickly made my way down the aisle to the front door.
What’s wrong with this guy?! I mean, why even come out of hiding if he’s not going to sign the book properly?
Wait, was that even the writer? Would we even know? I mean, surely the publishing company had done some checking or something to verify his identity.
What an absolute jerk!
I realized only an author would have the nerve to sign a book as the main character. Someone trying to pass themselves off as the writer would be concerned about being caught and would probably sign the book conventionally. This thought calmed me down a bit.
I had just got to the front of the store when my mind started taking in details that made no sense. I looked around and I couldn't see the line of people anywhere.
Where’d everyone go?
The soft classical music playing over the intercom seemed to grow louder in the empty store. Turning around I pushed on the door to leave when I heard someone call out,
"Wait a Minute! Don't open the door! Hey! Please, I don't want to chase you outside."
One of the workers was calling out as he ran up to me right as the door let a warm breeze through. Letting go and allowing the door’s hydraulic hinge to close the it softly I turned to the guy as he wheezed out,
"I was asked to bring you to the back room. Follow me."
As if I had no will of my own I followed the man as we passed a wave of colors in the sea of bookshelves. I hadn't realized before but this bookshop had really tall shelves. Why hadn't I noticed that before? Looking at the back of the guy I noticed it was the same guy from earlier in the teal shirt.
As I followed him I asked,
"Who asked you to bring me, was it the manager or something?”
Then, after a moment’s hesitation added,
“I brought my own book but I’m not opposed to buying one to support the store if that’s what this is about."
Wait, did the lights just get dimmer?
Scanning the wall I saw dark gray stone, not brick but actual stone. Somehow I was now in a dark stone hallway!
I turned my head every which way and got my second shock as I noticed the top of the tall stone walls were casting a soft yellow glow from metal sconces. Not light bulbs, not fire… just softly glowing yellow lights.
I looked back at the guy who was leading me and found I wasn’t behind a guy in a teal shirt anymore but instead someone in a black robe. I felt my feet stop of their own accord and my chest began heaving up and down, then my breath exhaled so fast it made a high pitched noise with my lips.
I reached out to steady myself against the wall and watched as the world tilted upside down. My hand slid down the wall feeling the smooth texture of chipped stone as I was unable to keep my balance. Slowly I spilled down the side of the wall till I stopped half sitting and half laying. I squeezed my eyes closed as I began the breathing exercises I had learned for work.
Once calmed I opened my eyes.
Stone walls? Check
Black cloaked figure walking? Check
I turned back in the direction we had come from and continued my grounding exercise.
Just a hallway with nothing in sight? Check
I looked ahead again,
Nothing but a black cloaked figure walking down a hallway, still. Check
Then I closed my eyes again and pressed them closed, hard. I scrunched my eyes until my face hurt, lights began to dance brightly on my eyelids and my head buzzed with the sound of my trembling nerves.
I heard the employee clear his throat.
"My lunch break starts in five minutes." Opening my eyes I discovered I was actually standing and looking at the very annoyed store employee, once again surrounded by bookshelves.
"Uh, right, lead the way." I croaked out. Hoping I was doing a good job of hiding my anxiety, or was it a complete mental breakdown?
We reached a plain metal door at the back of the store and the guy gestured towards it before hurriedly starting back the way we had come.
Practically yelling as he retreated,
"Take a seat or something, someone will be with you soon, I guess."
I watched as his teal shirt faded from view.
How is he fading from sight? I guess the line to the table was long but it wasn’t long enough for a person to fade away, was it? Why does it look like a long tunnel? Am I unwell?
A quick flick through my watch brought me to the health stats. Nothing looked out of place. Why did nothing look out of place?!
Hadn't I just had signs of a panic attack, or maybe a stroke or something? I stared at the steps walked; 563.
Wait, how had I only walked 27 steps?! It was more steps to the front door and I had walked all the way to the back of the store.
My watch went black from lack of use.
Damn, I had been staring long enough for it to turn off.
Flicking my wrist the screen lit up to show 636 steps.
Okay, fine, my watch obviously needs fixed or the app updated. It just jumped by a hundred more steps.
I finally looked up at the door and I noticed it was half open and the light wasn't even on.
I thought I was supposed to meet someone here? Why was the light not even on? I reached out, opening the door as I felt for a light switch while my right foot stepped into the room. Suddenly the room was flooded by an intense bright light that partially blinded me and colors swam around my eyes until the room came into focus.
Stunned, I took in the room with its elaborately carved walnut bookcases filled with old books and matching carved desk and chairs that gave it a magical quality. Stepping up to a bookcase I caught sight of rows of what had to be first or second editions of all kinds.
Man, this room is incredible!
The owner of this bookstore had really made a home away from home library. I moved to a shelf of knickknacks and saw around nine intricate antique gemstone statuettes of knights, some were on horses and I could even make out their facial expressions. Perusing the same shelf there was a golden astrolabe with matching sextant, a celestial snow globe, four colored glass bottles with some kind of liquids, a glass bottle with a foggy substance, a miniature springtime mountain with a pack of wolves, and a gnome wooden totem pole.
Wait, a totem pole with gnome faces and animals? That’s bizarre.
I whipped my head towards a shadow of movement in the corner of my eye.
Was that lapis knight in a different spot? No way it moved, right?
I leaned in closer and I would swear that it had a smug look on its tiny face.
Leaning back from staring down at the gemstone knight I looked around the room and discovered that I was still alone. Admiring the detailed carvings on the bookcases I realized that some of the carvings looked like runes.
They weren’t Norse runes but rather runes out of the fourth volume of "The Chronicles of the Magi Claeffen" that were illustrated in diagrams depicting what the Zwelvse used in their forest homes. Zwelvse wasn’t the most creative renaming for elves but I understood why he’d wanted to make it more "original''.
Wait, do these bookcases actually say something?!
Stepping back, I questioned why the bookstore owner would have bookcases carved with the Zwelvse runes?
Slowly turning I looked at the room anew, not with passing curiosity but rather with intent to learn, to decode the secrets that might lay here. This room was now something I needed to understand. I wished I had my notes on book four to confirm any discoveries and possibly translate.
The more I examined the room the more I felt my skin tingle. I lifted my sleeve up and saw my arm hair standing on end with my flesh covered in thousands of little goosebumps.
If the runes were here was it possible that there were other things lying in wait for discovery?
I glanced at everything on the desk and the bookcases. I was desperate to recognize anything familiar in the room that might explain the presence of the runes. It was all very exquisitely made. The details on the statues was mind-blowing with the kind of precision craftsmanship that most fanatical Warhammer fans would aspire to.
Well, I guess anyone crafting miniatures would want that kind of detail.
On the desk there was a golden pen, stacks of papers, and a crystal vase with flowers I couldn’t recognize. It was kind of bare compared to the bookcases.
I walked behind the desk, picked a shelf, and started reading the titles:
"Best Stones to Craft With", "Life of the Tree", "Slow Cooking for the Braindead", "How to Catch Stars", "Nutation: The Observer’s Guide to Periodic Axial Variation", "Exotic Travels of the Sand", "Sally Forth! Onward, to a New Career".
Well these titles suck.
I stepped back looking for anything at all that stood out. There was a coat rack with an umbrella stand that seemed oddly placed in a corner of only bookcases.
It's behind the desk chair so it kind of makes sense.
Investigating the coat rack I found no designs on the wood. It was actually quite plain and bland in a room where everything else looked to be a work of art. Next I examined the empty umbrella holder. The outside was likewise plain so I squatted down to peer into the bottom of it. I thought I could just make out a design so I reached for my phone and shook it until the flashlight came on. There was what appeared to be a maker's mark on the inside. Gasping, I leaned back. In my left ear I heard a hushed voice,
"Interesting isn't it?"
I jolted to my right, getting as far away from the offending voice as I could but collided against the book covered wall. My mind barely comprehended that I was scurrying away from the person who had signed my book just a short while ago.