B2: Chapter 29 — What is in a Name?

  The book opened and began to glow.

  It’s eyes widened.

  Henrietta and Sibil devolved into hysterical sobs.

  My eyes bulged.

  The store creaked once and the book abruptly dimmed.

  I raised an eyebrow, stepping forward to read the page.

  Ah, it penned, the elegant script spilling across the page.

  The more ornery of the two brothers. I’ll admit, this is not a place I expected to find myself.

  I’ll admit, I was surprised. The Library had been…

  Well frankly, it had been huge. Even when the Store had grown for Stupid’s birthday, it was still far smaller than the Library.

  I hadn’t expected it to stop the book so easily.

  In smaller script, penned in the margins:

  Of course it would team up with the goblins. What a terrifying thought.

  Yes well. Conduit. Why am I here, the book rattled its pages, resuming its writing in a bold and fluid script.

  Did I… did I just witness a book thinking to itself?

  “Uh, because I still have no idea what you are?” I tried.

  Nonsense. I already told you what I am. I think you meant to say: You have no idea what you are. Say it correctly, now.

  It snorted.

  “Why,” I muttered. “Why is everything in my life so condescending!”

  It’s because you have a punchable face.

  It nodded agreeably.

  “Wait… are you serious?”

  Of course not. What? That would be stupid. Good Heavens. It is because you are a half-elf. If you couldn’t even get something that basic right, how are you going to get anything else right.

  The book continued ranting in smaller letters:

  Why. Why and I saddled with this moron. Why couldn’t it have been an elf for goodness sake. An elf maiden would have been lovely…

  That’s it.

  “Hey Stupid!” I shouted. “Want a new book?”

  “BEEG!” Her tiny voice echoed from down the vastness of the Aisles.

  The writing paused for a moment, before resuming frantically.

  Wait. No. No, no, no, no, no! My apologies. I didn’t mean it —

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  The writing grew more frantic and less legible as Stupid’s voice grew closer.

  The book flipped a page just as she burst from the Aisle, ears windmilling.

  “Yeth Beeg?”

  — Blackmail!! YOU WIN, YOU WIN! CALL THAT MONSTROSITY OFF!

  It raised an eyebrow.

  “Well Beeg, you are becoming quite the negotiator, as befitting of a warlock. Maybe one day you can even run a shift,” he monotoned, patting me on the back.

  “I look forward to seeing what agreements come from this one,” he added, turning and gesturing for Stupid to follow.

  “Come, Stupid, Beeg has some discussions to be had. We will wait… Nearby,” he added, glancing at the book. “Just in case you are needed.”

  The book quivered.

  It chuckled and steered Stupid back down an Aisle.

  She happily followed, grabbing a jar off a shelf and giggling as the store opened a hole just for her to drop it down.

  ____

  Well. Why am I here? Is it so you can bully me? Threaten me? I’ll have you know —

  “Honestly? I wanted to get to know you. Learn a bit. But that just becomes so distasteful the more I interact with you,” I sighed.

  The book’s pages fluttered for a moment.

  Oh. Well… Have you thought that maybe I don’t want to get to know you?

  I rolled my eye.

  “Yes, you’ve made it very clear.”

  Good. I was afraid the message was getting lost in translation.

  “Why did you call me a Conduit?” I grit my teeth.

  Because that’s all you are. It’s not like you are a real mage. Or even a ‘Warlock’.

  Ouch.

  I could just find myself a new Conduit at any time.

  My eye narrowed.

  Did it just… it did. The book was trying to heighten its negotiating position.

  I almost laughed. Had it tried that before I was Beeg, it probably would have worked.

  As it was, I had been terrorized by Vaarg’s tyranny for almost 2 years. It would have to try a lot harder than that.

  “So do it.”

  I will.

  I sat there and watched.

  The book remained inert.

  Thankfully, I had all the time in the world. I tapped on the floor with my leg and chose a mop to begin cleaning.

  I couldn’t help but smile as the pages slowly started fluttering in agitation.

  Fine. Well played, the book eventually wrote.

  I grinned and hobbled over.

  “Why don’t you want to get to know me?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  First, wipe that grin off your face. It’s disgusting.

  My smile immediately soured.

  Better. Second, Do you know when Grandmagister Merl lived?

  I shrugged.

  The First Era

  I waited.

  Of the Maztopian Empire.

  Honestly, I had no idea what that meant.

  The book flapped its pages impatiently, slowly levitating off the table.

  Irritating and uneducated. Wonderful. It means I’m old, ok? Ancient. Revered. I was in existence before the first humans set foot on this land.

  I nodded again. This book was trying very hard to out-negotiate me.

  The issue was, I wasn’t even playing the game. But I did see through what was happening. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a deliberate consequence of Vaarg’s actions, or if I was so traumatized that I didn’t trust anything anymore.

  I huffed. It was both.

  “Fascinating,” I exhaled, “And.. how many ‘Conduits’ have you had since then?”

  The book fell back to the table.

  “I have a whole store to clean, you know. I also happen to have a co-worker who loves to destroy it. Every. Single. Day,” I sighed. “Just so she can watch it ‘magically’ clean itself. So listen, I’ve got time. And never-ending work to occupy it.”

  The book fluttered.

  … First.

  “You know… I’ve never met a book capable of mumbling before.”

  You are the first, ok? Happy?

  I raised an eyebrow. That was not an answer I expected.

  “So like… what did you do all that time?”

  Wait.

  Ancients above, no wonder the book was so socially inept.

  “Well, I’m Beeg and I’m pleased to be your ‘Conduit’. What is your name?”

  …

  …

  … I don’t have one.

  “That’s uh... Well,” I fumbled. “How’s ‘Flappy’?”

  No, it insisted, flapping its pages.

  I watched thoughtfully. This was one of those moments where it didn’t know what was best for it.

  Like when I became Beeg.

  I nodded.

  “Flappy it is.”

  Absolutely not.

  “Flappy, I’m Beeg Ugly, Beeg for short.”

  …

  Did you actually choose that name?

  “Nope, it chose me.”

  Something in the back of my mind wailed at me. Told me I was becoming a goblin.

  Or that I already had.

  I grinned in the gloom as the book fluttered its pages.

  Well. I do not choose this name, it penned and slammed itself shut.

  “I didn’t either,” I whispered. “But I’m glad it stuck.”