Peter Pierce

Bookbinder

Chapter One

Travis street was what was now charitably called a neighborhood in transition. A rather absurd euphemism for a blighted section of a city that was sliding quickly into hopeless economic and civil ruin. A place where the local drug dealer felt no need to do business at night or to hide his transactions from the sight of the passing police car and where the local homeless shelter competed with the cheap local mini market for the title of most run down building still occupied.

Of course even neighborhoods as run down as this one had their exceptions. A business that seemed to hold on, an apartment house that still looked habitable, perhaps a family store that refused to move. On Travis St. that place was a small shop tucked in between two abandoned storefronts and sporting the sign Nash Fine Books.

To Ian Parker it looked like a good target. He'd watched the old man open up an hour ago and the guy had to be pushing ninety. A sharp shove when he opened the cash register and then a dash for the door. If he was lucky he'd get enough to eat with for a few days. Maybe he could stay out of foster that long.

He bundled his coat up a bit tighter and pulled the knit cap down over his ears as he sprinted across the street and opened the door.

Bells.

A row of them across the top of the door and they startled him enough to make him do a sudden halt. The old man however looked up from his place by the ancient register.

"Somehow I think this will be a good day for business." He had an odd smile. The kind that said he knew more about you than you did and Ian fidgeted. "You like books I take it?"

"Yeah." Ian stepped further into the room. It was after all the right thing to do if you wanted to pretend you were a customer and it was absolutely called for if you wanted to get closer to the money in the register.

"That's good," the old man motioned to a plate of cookies that Ian had not noticed. "Why don't you have a couple of these and we'll talk about which books you like. Tea is good I hope?"

Ian blinked, he had not noticed the teapot either. Man he must be scared if he was not noticing anything but the old mans white hair and that knowing smile. Not that he was going to refuse food. It was freak'n cold outside! And the cookies still looked hot.

"I am Maxwell Nash," the man offered up the tray and motioned Ian to a stool. "Proprietor of this small outpost. And you are?"

"Ian," it came out before he even thought to lie. Fortunately he stopped before adding his last name.

"Parker," Nash added and Ian's eyes went wide. The guy however just laughed. "It's on your book bag, Ian Parker." He reached across and offered a hand. "Pleased to meet you. Now enjoy your tea and I'll consult the book."

"Book?" Ian asked but it was only a casual question, his mind was focused on the cookies and the hot tea, both of which smelled delicious and proved to taste even better.

"Walnut," the old man mumbled as he turned to a shelf of huge books that appeared to Ian to be hundreds of years old. "Oh and a few other things. But mostly just good old fashioned walnuts, I am partial to them. Bit like a squirrel like that."

Ian smiled and watched him pull out a book that looked way too big and too heavy for such an old guy to manage. It had to be at least three feet [90 cm] long and a foot [30 cm] thick.

"Ah." Nash set the book down with satisfaction. "Now this will probably seem a bit odd but let's see shall we. Open it to whichever page you desire will you Ian?"

Ian put a last piece of cookie in his mouth and decided that the old guy was probably senile. And a nice guy, perhaps robbing him was a bad idea. The cookies were good and had filled him enough to ward off the worst of his hunger. So why not play along? Worst that could happen would be another free cookie or two.

His fingers reached the book and froze.

"Problem?" Nash asked with what looked to be amusement.

"I 3;" Ian did not know how to answer that. He just couldn't touch the book. It felt 'wrong'.

"So you're not a thief," Nash smiled knowingly at him as he blushed red. "Oh, I'm sure you thought you were but the book doesn't lie Ian." He rolled the book up on its side and Ian saw the title. Thieves and Cutpurses.

"So what are you if not a thief out to rob an old man of a few dollars for food." Nash ignored Ian's look of shame and motioned to the cookies. "Have another boy, they are good for you and you haven't eaten in a while."

"How do you 3;" Ian was worried now and glanced at the door.

"I wouldn't bother," Nash sighed and turned to put the book back. "Curiosity has you boy and you did not lie about liking books. In less than an hour you would be back here wanting answers and we'd just have to do this all over again. So do us both a favor and sit still for a moment."

For some unknown reason Ian did exactly that. Well, that and take another cookie from the plate.

"Tea," Nash mumbled over his shoulder as he replaced one ancient book with another, this one in worn white leather. "Drink the tea, it's mostly camomile with a hint of a few other things. Very relaxing and good to focus the mind."

Ian reached for the mug and gently sipped. It didn't taste like camomile to him. Maybe apple, but whatever it was was really good and it was warm. Much better than the cold water he had this morning.

"Same routine," Nash set the book on the counter. "Just pick a page."

Once again Ian reached out and once again he couldn't touch the binding.

"Well that's odd." Nash now looked very pleased as he picked up the book. "This could go on for a bit." He paused. "Oh, let's take a shortcut. My teacher would be scandalized but frankly I'm too old and impatient and you seem to be a smart boy."

He came around the counter and Ian almost backed off the chair. He was perfectly willing to eat the guy's cookies and drink his tea, even to listen to him babble about books and put up with the weirdness. But strange old men touching him was not happening.

"Oh relax." Nash looked perturbed for the first time. "I am way too old to be interested in cute boys. Now do be helpful and follow me. The stairs are a bit hard on my back and I see no reason to carry down half a dozen."

Ian watched the old man move aside a cart of old magazines and start up a narrow staircase to a what appeared to be a loft crammed with books. It was his chance to snag the cash and run but some inner part of him said that it would be a much better day if he took another cookie and followed the bookseller.

"All of the best works are up here of course." The guy was sure slow at climbing stairs. His voice was strong though and he spoke like he expected Ian to be right behind him all the way. "You just don't know who is going to walk in these days. You know I sold a book of herbs to a very nice young man just last week and then it turned our he was a thief of all things." There was a disinterested chuckle and Ian wondered why a guy who would probably fall over in a stiff breeze would feel so little concern with a robber.

Nash took a second to turn around and fix him with a very serious stare, one that took Ian aback and had him suddenly nervous again.

"Never tolerate thieves young man." Nash waved a finger at his face. "Best to feed them to a dragon and be done with it. Except of course certified thieves." He had turned around after the dragons comment and Ian was left with an open mouth.

"Certified thieves?" He asked as the guy stepped out onto the loft and made room for Ian.

"Oh, never mind that." Nash smiled again. "Have another bite of that cookie and come up here."

Mention of the cookie did provoke a bit of hunger and Ian did as he was bid.

"Good boy." Nash sighed. "It has been quiet a while since I had a boy so enamored with a few cookies. I wonder 3;"

Out of his mind and completely in need of a hospital was what Ian kept telling himself. Along with constant reminders that it was warm in here, cold out there, that cookies beat hungry and why did he have to leave that tea downstairs?

"Now." Nash pulled out a worn out old wooden stool that looked like it had been around since Columbus. "You just have a seat here Mr. Ian Parker. The books up here are much like the ones you already met, they will tell you if you are ready to read them or not. You just finish that cookie and if any of them look interesting you feel free to take it down and have a look. I'll just wander back down and see about some sandwiches for our lunch shall I?"

It was a statement not a question but Ian found himself nodding like an idiot. Of course feeding him was all right. Being on the street for two days with just what he could scrounge out of cans had made that perfectly clear in his head.

Nash eased himself back down the stairs with a thin smile. He had no idea whatsoever who this boy was but two books had confirmed that he was not just a street urchin out for petty robbery or a hand out. And after all these years it was rather nice to think that there might actually be a purpose to his posting way out here in the middle of nowhere.

Ian sat feeling like a goof. A few cookies and some hot tea and he was now up in a loft crowded with books with no idea what to do. Well, best to at least look like he was interested. He stood up and looked over the shelves and was surprised to find that other than a rainbow of different colored worn leather, most brown of course, there was not a single title or reference. So how was he supposed to know which one to read?

"Me." It wasn't a word as much as a whisper and it wasn't even in English or out loud. More like a murmur in the back of his head.

A head which swiveled around slowly as if homing in by instinct on the proper book.

"Very good," the shadowy voice soothed. "Come read me young one."

Ian found his hand reaching almost to the floor to take a book out of the bottom rack. A moldy old thing in green leather by the looks of it and there was some kind of pattern carved into it as well. Without really realizing he was doing it he went back to sit on the stool. Somehow the plate of cookies and his tea were there as well.

OK, only one thing to do unless he was going to bail on the free food and warm room. He opened the book and looked at the swirling writing. Weird. It looked like that Arabic stuff he has seen on the net. Or maybe even weirder. Now how was he supposed to read it. His mind told him it was a waste of time and to put the damned thing back, his eyes however remained glued to the page. It was almost like he could read it. Hear it? Think it?

Nash came back an hour later with a plate of very nice tuna sandwiches and shook his head. It certainly did appear that he had found one. He glanced at the book and took a deep breath.

"Now it did have to be you didn't it?" He looked at the book with a mix of disapproval and wry acceptance. Nash sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Well at least now I can close the shop and go back home."

"After you send him to the Grove," a firm voice sounded in his head. "And warn his foster that I will tolerate no errors this time."

"Whatever." Nash waved a hand. He was far too old to be worried about threats even from this book. "Just you remember to keep an eye on him. He's wild and will bolt on you if he can."

"I know what I am doing," the book snapped at him and he decided it was best to retreat and leave the two alone. Besides he had calls to make.

Ian came up from the book to eat. An hour later he came up again and asked about a bathroom. Nash fed him, showed him the small facilities and left him to the book. He knew better than to ask and Ian offered nothing about what he was seeing in the scrolled script. That the boy could read it was a given, that he consciously understood what he was reading was not. In his experience Nash knew that it could be weeks before the boy actually was able to place the new ideas in his head to the hours he would happily spend looking at the pages.

On many levels Nash envied the boy. He remembered the long ago day when he himself had opened a book for the first time. There were not words to describe it but if there were all of them would be positive and full of magic, innocence and fascination.

Plus he needed the time. Opening that book set certain things in motion and he had responsibilities to see that those things happened as planned. So out came the state of the art cell phone from its place under the antique register and he quickly scrolled through the numbers. Best to start in the right place.

"Hello." The voice was that of a sweet old woman and held nothing but curiosity and friendly interest in who could possibly be calling.

"Regina? Maxwell Nash here." He began the conversation knowing that Regina would not want to get down to basics till they had done the usual hello's. "I hope your not too busy?"

"Hardly." Regina's laugh was light and carefree but there was a sad note that said she would be very happy if he broke her routine. "Just sorting a few things, snowing here and I can't get out to the garden greenhouse till tomorrow according to the forecast."

"Sorry to hear that." Nash knew that Regina was never truly happy on days when she could not be in her garden. "I'm afraid I am going to ask you to get a bit wet then. I have a very nice young man upstairs reading the Scholar's Guide."

"Scholar?" She suddenly sounded much more focused. "Really? No, of course you would not joke about that. Imagine, a Scholar." She paused. "And I imagine you want me to track down David and let him know he is up for foster duty?" She added a chuckle that said they both knew exactly what David would do with that knowledge.

"Unless you think Sandra would be better." Nash did of course have a duty to ask. Fostering was a major event and the wrong placement could lead to disaster.

"For a Scholar? Nonsense." Regina dismissed the idea the sighed over the phone. "And we are talking a boy here Maxwell. David is very good with boys even at his age."

"You're sure." Nash pushed now remembering how old David really was. A young boy could be quiet a hand full once he had his mind into a book, especially THIS book.

"Of course I am sure." Regina sounded rather indignant that he would ask. "David Sinclair is probably the best Foster our clan has had in the past two hundred years. I'd say the best ever but he would disagree. Besides I happen to know for a fact that he has agreed to sponsor Benjamin Worth for Foster and Ben is going to be living with him for a couple of years. Can you think of a better, more secure pair than that for a Scholar?"

No, Nash could not think of a better combination. Sandra might be a bit miffed at not getting a Scholar but no one would argue that it was a bad choice.

"I'll go get my heavy coat now." Regina offered firmly. "Given how far you are from the Grove I imagine you'll need transport. I'll swing by and let Carl know so he is at the gate. You continue to have a wonderful exciting day, Maxwell and I look forward to seeing you up here in the summer."

Second call.

"Hi, Max!" the woman on the other end knew enough to check her caller ID before answering. "I am between classes, what can I do for you?"

Trust Katy to always be between classes. She was in her second year of college. Actually her second year of her second degree. Botany, but she was still the eager bright girl.

"I need a transport to the Grove." Max wished he wasn't going to be too cruel in his timing at pulling her away from her studies. "We have a new candidate and you are on call this week."

"Fair enough." Katy sounded only mildly regretful for a second then bounced back into her usual mode. "I'm using the Lexus though. Roads are a mess up there this time of year."

"True." Unlike most of them Katy loved technology and machines and above all else flashy expensive toys. "Very well, you know the codes to the garage. How soon can you be here?"

She paused a second.

"I'll bail on this class and head back to the dorms for some clothes and essentials. That should still put me ahead of traffic even on a snowy day like this. Call it an hour and a half." She told him.

"Good." Nash agreed, it should be plenty of time to convince the book to let the boy go. Then because he always liked Katy and he was very happy with her attitude. "Oh, and feel free to expense as you need for this trip Katy, my treat."

She was still issuing thank yous when he hung up.

Last call and one he didn't want to make. Still rules were rules.

"What?" Came the curt male voice. He too would have looked up the ID on the cell.

"Maxwell Nash, representing Oak Grove." He said it formally. "I am adding a name to the Registry. Ian Parker is now under the protection of Oak Grove."

"Twenty four hour window and the usual rules." The man stated coldly. "He stays at Oak Grove, he steps foot out of there before he is 18 and he's fair game."

"Agreed on behalf of the Oak Grove Council." Nash stated then paused. "You should also know that this embassy will close in June and I will be returning to the Grove."

"Watchers will be happy with that. You're boring." The man hung up.

Nash could live with boring. Boring was alive and emissaries who were not boring often did not return home at the end of service. Yes, boring was very very good in this world.

***

"Did you like the book?" Nash asked as he handed Ian another cup of that awesome tea.

"Huh?" Ian was still a bit dazed. The book he had clutched to his chest was awesome. It was like a puzzle, kinda, you had to learn the new language and words. Which were tough to remember when you weren't reading them, which was weird and he tried to remember what he had read that had seemed so cool only a minute or two ago.

"Tea," Nash stated firmly and Ian accepted the cup. "It tends to center the mind when you have just read a book like that. And have a cookie as well please."

Ian was not about to refuse either the tea or the cookie. Both were the best he ever had.

"Now." Nash sat down next to him. A feat that was a little impressive in a guy that old. Ian kind of expected him to groan or something. "We need to have a conversation you most likely will not like having. We will start with where you are going after you finish that cookie."

"Home." Ian stated promptly then dropped the book which suddenly felt like it had burned him.

"Ouch," he shook his hand and looked down at the book. Now why and how did a book manage to look like it was angry at him.

"It doesn't like lies." Nash did not seem at all surprised. "I highly recommend you never lie around it. That book has quiet a high set of moral standards."

"Book?" Ian looked confused. How did a book have morals or know what he had said, or make his arm hurt like that?

"Don't ask the why questions." Nash had a thin but friendly smile. "I know from experience that they will do little to ease your mind and do a lot to stand in your way. I suggest you try just accepting things as they are and figuring out what to do with them. For example you just lied and the book didn't like that. If you had lied to a parent and they caught you what would you do?"

"Apologize," Ian answered truthfully then paused a minute. "But I'd also be worried about being punished."

"The book already did that." Nash pointed to the boy's arm which he was still rubbing. "A rather sharp smack if I do say so. But then, like I said, this particular book has rather high standards. So why not go with a sincere apology and then answering with the truth."

That took some thinking. The guy was going to call social services for sure and he was off to Foster in less than an hour. Maybe even back with that fat old cow and her daughter.

Still the idea that the book was mad at him was extremely uncomfortable. Stupid as it seemed it was worse than thinking about going back to Aunt Betty and Claire and that nasty rottweiler they had.

"OK." He breathed deeply and looked down at the book instead of Nash. "I am sorry I lied. I ran away from my foster home and when I leave here I have no idea where I will go. Satisfied?"

The book did not look at all different but Ian could tell the change and picked the book back up to crush to his chest again.

"See." Nash smiled knowingly. "It really is a very fine book. No grudges. Now if you are willing Ian I have made some plans so you will not be going back to that foster care system."

"Plans?" Ian looked skeptical. There were all kinds of stories as to what happened to missing street kids, none of which ended up good.

"Plans," Nash repeated calmly. "See the girl down there leafing through the old magazines?"

Ian did, she looked suspiciously like the young social workers they always sent to haul you away.

"Her name is Katy and she is a friend of mine." Nash kept talking while never taking an eye off him. "She is not a social worker and is not here to do anything you don't want to do. She is here because I asked her to drive you up to meet a friend of mine David Sinclair. David is a retired teacher who has a long record of helping boys like you. I am suggesting you have a chat with him and see if perhaps there is an alternative to running away hoping foster care doesn't catch up with you."

"He's not a pervert?" Ian voiced his fears before he knew he was saying them.

"No, he is not," Nash laughed. "Extremely eccentric when you first meet him, but he is a very nice person once you know him. He lives in a rather large old Victorian house with plenty of room in a small town called Oak Grove. I've already taken the liberty of calling and he is expecting to meet you late tonight. Katy will drive you."

"And if I don't like him?" Ian huddled down deeper into his place against the wall of books. It was weird again but the book he was holding seemed to be reassuring him and telling him not to be scared.

"I have never met a boy in Oak Grove who did not like David," Nash said then paused. "Sorry that is not true. I have never met a GOOD boy who did not like David. Some few bullies have crossed his path from time to time and they certainly did not like him. But I am confident you will like him. In fact I will go out on a limb and promise that if you dislike staying with David I will work to make whatever other arrangements you would prefer happen."

Ian could have sworn the book glared at Nash but the old man didn't seem to either notice or care.

"OK," Ian said softly "I'll go. Thank you for the help. Um, can I, um, buy the book. I'll have to pay for it when I get money."

Nash looked somehow softer.

"My boy you don't buy that book," he said softly. "It was yours the moment you picked it up. And as for the thank you, well, I will be up to the Grove in late spring. At that time if you would like to say thank you you may take me fishing. I love fishing."

Nash turned and led the way down the stairs. Like the trip up it took a while.

"Katy." Nash at least sounded a bit younger when he introduced the girl who was putting down her magazine and looking up at Ian with interest. "Meet Ian Parker. Your rider up to the Grove."

"Ian." She stuck out a hand which Ian took. She was nice looking and friendly and he found himself smiling back. She however looked at his book and rolled her eyes.

"Oh man." She giggled and looked over at Nash. "I now know why you gave me that expense account old man. Let's get going Ian, I'll stop and get you a coke to wash that tea out of you and we'll put the book on the back seat. Then we can chat a bit."

Ian saw nothing wrong with the tea, did not want to put the book anywhere but did follow her out the door.

Chapter Two

"So." Katy said as they were an hour out of the City and Ian was halfway through another stack of fries and sucking on his jumbo coke. "Are you over the tea and cookies yet?"

"They were drugged weren't they?" He asked with more than a note of concern.

"I wouldn't use the word drugged." Katy shrugged and glanced over at the book in the back. "For the most part it was just a few garden herbs to relax you and keep you from freaking out. Lots of people in the Grove are into herbal medicines, I certainly am. And nothing you had influenced your choices in any way. It just calmed you down a bit and made you focus your thoughts."

"But I spent hours staring at a book I couldn't even read and I swear it was mad at me until I apologized to it." Ian looked over his shoulder at the book laying on the back seat of the SUV. "That sounds like drugs to me."

"Nope," Katy laughed. "Just typical book stuff. That one back there is green, which means it's a Scholar's Guide and fairly rare. They also have a tendency to be picky about things like lying."

"You're saying it's a magic book!?" Ian's mouth dropped in disbelief. Magic? He suddenly wondered if jumping from the car at the next light was a good idea.

"What's magic?" Katy laughed at him. "Until you know you shouldn't through that word around either, Ian. Just like drugs is the wrong word for the tea and cookies that Nash fed you, magic is a fairly poor word to describe a book like that. Trust me, no one is going to wave a wand or summon a demon on you. No silly robes or wart nosed witches. It's not like that at all. Well at least not most of the time. David will explain, he is very good at explaining. I see another joint up ahead, how about more fries?"

Which suddenly sounded awesome just as Katy knew it would. Kids into books like that drained energy like mad and it took a lot of fuel to recharge. Sugarly drinks and lots of french fries would do that, and for kids with books it didn't even put on an ounce of fat.

It had been late afternoon when they left the city. Night by the time they had started climbing the foothills and well past midnight when they entered the mountains. For Katy it was a well worn path. For Ian it was exhausting and Katy had him curled up on the back seat with a wool blanket and his cherished book.

"Get some rest," she had told him before he fell asleep. But she had also spoken directly at the book. "And no reading! He needs some sleep and if I catch you murmuring to him I'll have David deal with you. See how you like spending a week on his shelf."

Ian swore the book laughed at her.

"I've got to pee," Ian groaned and sat up. It was still pitch black and Katy was still driving down some major thruway in the mountains.

"We turn off in a mile," Katy informed him. "There is a rest stop just before that, we'll stop there."

"Fine," Ian groused and climbed over the seat to the front again.

"My, a grumpy one when you wake up aren't you?" She smirked at him as she pulled the car into the off lane for the rest area. There were three cars and a truck there already and Ian was about to bolt out of the car when her hand stopped him.

"Slow down," she said and had suddenly lost her smiling attitude. Instead she looked intensely serious. "You may need to pee but places like this are dangerous. First of all it looks like some idiot didn't salt the walk so you would break your neck running. But also weirdo's stop at places like this and I am not the type to take chances." She reached into her purse and Ian's eyes went wide as he saw the size of the pistol she put in the pocket of her coat.

"There," she winked at him. "Now I feel better. Oh, and if some perv comes after you in the boy's room you just scream and I come in and convince him to leave. Got it?"

"Got it." Ian swallowed hard and suddenly decided that you absolutely positively did not want to mess with Katy no matter how nice she sounded.

Katy watched him go into the bathroom and parked herself outside the door. She had to go herself but would make sure the kid was back in the car with the doors locked first. It was not often that she had one of those bad feelings but she had passed her classes in this stuff with flying colors and she never ever forgot to go with her instincts.

Sure enough, no sooner did the door close that a guy got out of the little blue hatch back and walked towards the bathroom. Tall, black hair, black eyes, worn leather jacket that was way too light for this weather. She looked at the nails. Black of course. Then took a step to plant herself in front of the mens room door.

"Turn around and leave,"she said in a voice that was deadly cold. "He's Registered."

"So." The guy seemed not at all concerned and she saw his hand move into the jacket.

She moved her left hand out of her own jacket and opened her fist to show a single small acorn.

"You are way too close to our land and you are messing with a boy on our list," she stated "Now either you turn around and get the fuck out of here or I give you your real death you fuck'n asshole."

That stopped him.

Not totally, his kind was immune to threats. They were however very calculating when it came to risk and profit. The guy barred teeth that were more pointed than they needed to be and hissed.

Katy had the gun out and pointed at his face.

"Leave," she ordered and tossed the acorn on the ground in front of him where it suddenly smoldered and smoked.

Surprisingly he did so. Not eagerly or in fear, but he did turn and walk away and he made a point of gunning his engine as he left.

"Done." Ian came out looking happy. "And no pervs in the bathroom."

"None out here any more either." She ruffled his hair and stepped on the remnants of the smoldering acorn glad he had seen nothing. "You go sit in the car, my turn in the girls room."

Katy was relieved when they turned off the four lane. The side road was not officially on any map and had no designation. It was simply the road to the Grove and it ran for ten miles [15 km] without a break or a sign. Most people never noticed it and the few that ever used it assumed it was a well maintained logging road or part of the State Park. It got its share of hunters in the fall and was largely ignored the rest of the year. This being winter it was snow covered and showed no sign that a plow had been there within the last week.

A very nice reason to have a Lexus SUV with four wheel drive, plenty of gas and a heater that defied the cold.

"You sure we ain't lost?" Ian asked as dawn showed him unbroken stretches of snow covered forest. It looked really cool but he could not help notice that there weren't even telephone wires out here.

"Like I could be lost here." Katy rolled her eyes at him. "It would be easier for me to get lost in the bathroom at my dorm than here." She took a deep breath. "We have about a half hour till we reach the gate to the Grove and we'll get there right around breakfast time. A lot of people will be moving around by then so I should probably tell you a bit about what to expect. Normally that would be your Foster but I think David will be OK with me giving you the basics."

"Foster?" Ian tensed. That sounded too much like foster home and if they were tricking him into..

"Not Foster and is Foster Home." Katy shushed him. "At the Grove there is a very long tradition of taking in kids like us. It dates back to when this Grove was founded in 1842. Probably much older than that if you want to go to the records. You are most certainly not in the foster care system and your Foster will never call himself your foster father or something stupid like that. He's simply the guy there to help you grow up. My own foster is Regina and she is closer than any mom or sister I could ever have."

She paused.

"That part you'll figure out with David." She kept her eyes on the road. "And he'll also be the one to tell you about books and stuff. What I want to cover is more basic. And if you're anything like every other kid who has come through here, more important. You see, Oak Grove has only two types of people living here full time. Fosters who raise kids like us and most of them are really old. And kids like us, and that number is usually between thirty and fifty. All are between the ages of ten and eighteen and they are divided into eight social groups."

"I know it's all kind of confusing sitting here in a car listening but try to pay attention." She sighed. "You see the Grove has four recognized crafts and the kids from each craft bind together almost like a gang and each gang is segregated by boys and girls. It seems kind of sexist but that's the way it has always been. Anyway, there are two groups that study botany, a boys group and a girls group. There is a boys group for wood working and a girls group for cooking. There is a forest group for boys and a music groups for both boys and girls. That's seven groups. You'll belong to the smallest group and it is also reserved for boys. You're what we call a scholar."

"I'm not even good in school." Ian did not like the sound of scholar. That forest group sounded cool, bit cold this time of year, but scholars were those geeks who wore glasses, got A's and never had friends.

"Book says you're a scholar," Katy told him with a grin. "So you're a scholar. Besides. Scholars are considered very cool in the Grove. There are never more than a couple at a time and they hang out with whoever they want. Trust me, in the Grove you're going to be swamped with people wanting to be your friend."

That sounded better, if a bit weird.

"Those are the official groups." Katy seemed to lose a bit of energy. "But I should also tell you that the Grove is like anyplace else. Good people and bad. Not all books are great at spotting good kids. Sometimes we get bullies, or trouble makers. Once in a while even worse. The Fosters know of course and do what they can but it's not like they have a choice. Till you are 18 you have sanctuary and that's that. So be careful who you hang out with. I have seen some pretty nasty fights in my time and picking on a little scholar would be just the type of thing a lot of bullies would do."

"So it's like any other school." Ian sighed remembering his own school.

"Nope." Katy was back to being her light heart self. "Way way better. No tests, no class rooms, no homework, and not one person will ever tell you you're not passing a class. Mind you I did set the all time record for stupid when it came to mushroom identification, but Regina never gave me a hard time over it. And look where I am now. Second Botany degree in four years!"

She was laughing so Ian did as well. Katy was fun to hang out with.

"Oh, and I should warn you." She continued happily. "the Fosters are really good at hiding technology. They have all the stuff squirreled away and rarely use it. The Grove is kind of like an old fashioned artist's commune and it was only twenty years ago that they agreed to flush toilets and hot water. Electric lights are still non existent and you won't find a TV or computer within miles."

Ian groaned.

"You'll get used to it," she assured him happily but he doubted it.

***

A minute later they came up to a solid stone wall with a large iron gate and Katy stopped the car. On the other side a large man with gray hair and an over sized black coat got out of a battered pick up.

"Hey Carl," Katy said happily. "Want to let me and Ian through please?"

"Yeah." Carl did not seem the cheerful type. Ian swore he saw a nasty scar across the guy's face but it was only half a second and the guy was bent over the lock.

"Oh and Carl." Katy offered leaning out the window. "I ran into one of those nasty types at the rest stop. Someone might want to check on that. Ian's Registered you know."

Carl looked up and this time Ian saw not only the nasty scar but the firm look on his face that said here was a guy who was not to be crossed.

"I'll be there by noon," Carl half snarled and swung the gate open.

"Don't get fooled." Katy pulled the car through the gate with a wave to Carl. "Sweet guy and he knows the best fishing sites in the mountains."

Ian was skeptical on that and would have asked more but the Grove suddenly came into view and it really did look like something out of the past. Katy pulled into a small parking lot at the edge of the town. A lot built to handle only half a dozen cars and which had only two in residence.

"Sixty Three houses." Katy said happily. "I think there are seven vacant right now and last I heard we had forty nine kids in Foster. You'll make fifty even and that's considered a lot. Now as you can see the downtown is five stores, a community center, six work shops and the water mill."

"It looks like a painting." Ian stood with his mouth open.

"That's been said." Katy put an arm on his shoulder. "Come on let's get you over to David's. If we're lucky we can avoid a bunch of hello's."

According to Katy's definition they were very lucky. Ian saw a bunch of people out on the streets but they all looked like they were headed someplace and though they got a lot of waves no one stopped them. He did notice that the girls were all dressed in long skirts and the boys all carried some kind of stick.

"Staffs." Katy corrected when he asked. "Boys fight with them. Every boy carries one."

"Someone can wack me with a club?" Ian asked skeptically.

"Staff," Katy repeated and winked. "Unless you wack him first of course."

Ian did not like that idea at all. Those things looked dangerous.

David's house was a like the others in town, a massive old victorian mansion painted in a mix of colors that had once been labeled as a 'Painted Lady'. On this house the base color was green with a lot of yellow accents. Surrounded by massive oak trees it looked beautiful even in the winter.

Katy however did not look impressed. In fact she looked rather put out.

"Look at that walk!" She pointed in accusation. "That is hardly acceptable." She turned to Ian. "We don't have a lot of chores here Ian but one of them is that we kids keep the walks shoveled for the Fosters. I am going to have a couple sharp words with some of the older ones before I leave. This was just not tolerated when I was here five years ago."

She still seemed indignant about it when they reached the door and she used the old brass knocker to announce their arrival.

They were expected of course and David Sinclair opened the door only seconds later. Which in Ian's opinion either meant that he had been standing right next to it or had learned how to transport through thin air, if anything he made Nash look like he was in good shape. Or maybe not. He certainly looked ancient enough but he moved like he was in excellent shape and was not stooped over like Nash had been with his age.

"Ah, Katy. Right on time." He picked out a pocket watch. "I would invite you in for breakfast but I am afraid Regina has me under strict orders. If you arrived before eight I was to send you directly home for breakfast with her. And seeing as it is now seven forty two and you live only two doors down I had best send you before we both earn a scolding." The guy winked at Ian. "Besides, Ben slept in and I am just dying for a reason to eat all of the sausage on him as punishment and Ian looks like the type of boy who could help."

"Cool," Katy gave Ian a quick hug. "I'll catch up later Ian." and was gone.

"Nice girl." David ushered Ian into the foyer and motioned to the coat rack. "You can place your things here Ian and then we can go in for breakfast."

"Um, thank you sir." Ian tried and earned a smile.

"No sir here Ian." The old man waved a hand to dismiss the word. "David will do." He kept them moving into a rather warm kitchen with a wood burning stove and the smell of sausage, bacon, eggs and assorted other breakfast foods. Ian looked at the table and almost drooled.

"Books are hard work." Ian motioned to the table. "They take a lot out of us. Plus boys your age spend plenty of time outside fishing, hiking and doing what all. It all takes energy so we tend to feed you up as much as we can. Eat what you want."

"Hope you don't mind." David layered a stack of pancakes on Ian's plate and passed a dish of some preserve. "But I believe we should get all of the embarrassing details out of the way while enjoying breakfast. Much better than sitting in the den feeling uncomfortable. For example how did you end up on the street?"

Ian froze then suddenly realized he was not as panicked as he usually was when someone asked that question.

"Dad died in the Gulf," he stated it as simply as he could. "Mom got into drugs and OD'ed a year ago. Grandma had me for two months then she died. I have a cousin in Minnesota but they wouldn't take me so I ended up in foster care. That was bad." He looked up from the pancakes. "You want the details?"

"If and when you want to give them." David was back with a platter of sausage. "Eat them all if you can. Ben stayed up way too late with his book and deserves to miss out. He really loves them." This time he sat down to his own plate and Ian had to admit he was quiet an eater for such a skinny old guy. "Ben is a very nice young man. Probably the youngest to ever apply to be a Foster himself and I am very fond of him. Probably because he was sitting in your position only twenty years ago. And I must say he was a handful. We had quiet the argument over rules from time to time. Which I should cover now by the way. And I'll start by saying that there are very few of them and they are as inflexible with you as they were with Ben. You can argue but they don't bend."

Ian swallowed his pancakes and paid attention. The guy never raised his voice a bit. In fact he sounded a lot like the worlds best grandpa. But he was also making it crystal clear that he was laying down some laws so Ian better pay attention.

"First one is that you will always be home for Breakfast. Lunch and Dinner." He said seriously. "I may make exceptions for a fishing trip or camping but it is generally a very firm rule. Meal time is family time and I will expect you here. You have already heard me refer to Ben missing breakfast and you better believe he is in more trouble than my casual comments suggest. Missing a meal at home is not acceptable and he will hear exactly that."

"Which brings us to number two." David eyed the Ian's sausage consumption and added another two from the pile. "The book is seductive. I happen to know that book and it is better than most but it still has a very warped sense of how much time it should spend with you. I plan on having a few short words with it to remind it of the rules. You have one hour in the morning before lunch, one hour in the afternoon before dinner and one hour before bed time. If I catch you reading it at any other time without a reason it will go on my shelf for a week. Trust me, that is something neither of you will have happen twice."

Ian swallowed hard. He was already missing the book and the thought of not being near it for a week was intolerable.

"Exactly." David looked happy that Ian understood. "I have seen boys in tears before the second day was out and sobbing by the last day so please respect the rule." He saw Ian was down to half a glass of grapefruit juice and topped it off.

"Next rule." He looked up at Ian with an intense look. "This is a boys house and girls are not allowed without my invitation. I find most boys who are chosen by scholar books are homosexual so we will not be doing any silly coming out dance. If you are gay, I am fine with it. Ben certainly will be and no one in the Grove will care."

Ian almost chocked on his pancakes.

"Oh relax Ian." David grinned at him. "You will find we will have to cover embarrassing things from time to time and I just refuse to dance around them. Sexuality is a big deal for anyone. Particularly a growing boy. Best we get it out in the open. We do not police sexual practices in the Grove but we do have our traditions. Boys reside with boys, girls with girls. We have many interactions but the idea of a girl showing up at a boys house is ridiculous here. It is just not done.

"And while we are on sex matters." Ian felt he was going to burn up he was turning so red but David plowed on. "Boys your age masturbate. I know it, you know it so don't hide it. There are towels in the hall closet as well as most other things you could want. Use them at your discretion, it's your business and no one will pry."

"Now to the mundane stuff." Ian would happily settle for the mundane stuff if he knew what the word meant. "The house does not clean itself. I have a clean as you go policy and on Monday and Friday I will expect you to pitch in a couple of hours to help out with dusting, laundry or such. Cooking I do, unless of course you are interested in learning, I do the dishes as well as I have yet to meet a boy who does them to my standards. If you choose to help I will not say no though. These are all house rules, the ones for the Grove itself are a bit more firm and policed by the youth themselves. The yard is your responsibility and I am afraid you will be rather severely told off by your peers if they are not satisfied with its look. Also there is a tradition that says you look after the yards of Fosters who do not presently have children with them. I am afraid the boy who shovels my walk will find that out today."

He looked sad for a moment.

"The Grove has no school Ian, but it is perhaps the best school you will ever go to."He smiled. "It is also fun and I doubt you will find many who will say otherwise. No one here will argue with you if you choose to go fly fishing or sledding. Your book will see to your education, have no fear of that.

"Now before I go on you look like a boy with questions?"

"Um. Katy said kids beat you with sticks here." Ian was suddenly determined to punch some reality into this fantasy land dream. After all, in his experience there was no such thing as a perfect place.

"It is a tad more complicated that that." David snorted and then grinned. "And yes, a boy can end up fairly well black and blue if he crosses another boy. In fact broken bones are not unheard of." He saw the look on Ian's face. "Oh, please don't look like that Ian, it's not like we encourage fighting to the death between boys. And you will learn that the honor codes and fighting rules are rather complex. For example not one boy would dare even wave his staff at you until you are trained and training often takes six to eight months. Perhaps five if Ben takes a hand with you but certainly for the next five months the worst you could expect is a fist fight and even that would have to be supervised by an older boy."

"So no bullying?" Ian started to relax a bit.

"I didn't say that." David pushed more sausage at him. "We happen to have six bullies right now. Three of which are in the age range that will draw them to you. How you deal with them is up to you, with the exceptions I already stated. I do encourage you to ask for help by the way. I can point you to a few good boys who would be happy to teach you what to do with bullies and having Ben live here should give you quiet the edge. Ben is a rather notorious fighter with a long track record when it comes to bullies."

Ian decided the best thing to do was finish his juice. Then forgot that that was just a reason for the guy to refill it.

"Now where is that Ben." David looked slightly miffed. "I go through all this trouble to make sure his sausage is all eaten up and he doesn't even show. Well, in a couple of minutes he is going to be taking you to town for some clothes and help you set up your room and I am afraid he will miss breakfast."

"Nope." The guy who walked into the room reminded Ian of a Marine recruiting poster crossed with some super hero model, or perhaps the guy on the underwear ad. And dressed in only a pair of jeans and thick wool socks he was leaning towards the later.

Ben barely looked at him but went to the stove and rummaged in the pans.

"Ah." He grabbed one and brought it over restocking the sausage plate. He then sat down on the bench next to Ian and started grabbing food.

"He's terrible at punishment Ian." Ben finally looked down at the boy with a smile. "Well at least when it comes to food. The chances of David not having sausage or allowing me breakfast are about the same as me killing four vampires with a switchblade and a toothpick."

"Like you could do more than two." David groused and they all laughed. Ian decided he liked both of them.

"And I am sorry for last night." Ben offered David. "But it really was important and the book insisted I take today off."

David raised an eyebrow then nodded.

"You talk about these books like they can talk," Ian asked suddenly. "I know I love looking at mine and it seems a lot like it's saying something but I never know what and it's kind of scary and 3;"

Ian suddenly felt Ben's arm go around him and realized he was crying. Which was stupid and childish and 3;

"Shhhhh," Ben soothed. "Books are different Ian. Some books very very different and I think you suddenly realize how different our books are from those people outside of the Grove read. Trust me, you will understand in time. It's not good to push these things. Just let us guide you and you'll understand in time."

Ian didn't understand. In fact the more he thought about it being out here with a bunch of people who talked to books and didn't even like electricity was scary. Still that warm feeling he had when he looked into the book was suddenly back, back because this guy had an arm around him and the world felt suddenly safe.

"Ben 3;" David started to say softly.

"Fine." Ben answered. "I got him David."

David took a deep breath and nodded then stood up.

"You two finish up the food, I am going to start the dishes."

***

"Where's my book!" Ian panicked as he and Ben went into the hallway to get their coats.

"With David." Ben answered and handed Ian his coat. "He is having a word with it in the den and you'll see it when you get back, promise." He then looked at the boy's backpack/book bag. "What's in there?"

"Stuff." Ian shuffled and looked down at the worn bag with his name on it. "A spare sweatshirt, a pair of underwear, I think about three dollars in change and my old history book."

"I see." Ben lifted the bag and put it on the wall hook. "We'll move it up to your room when we get back. But it does answer the basic question. You need everything. Let's go introduce you to Peggy."

Peggy ran one of the shops in town, one best described as a cross between everything. Candles? Cabinet on the right. Jeans? Up the stairs on the left. In fact her collection of boys wear was all on the second floor and she sent both Ben and Ian up with instructions to call if they couldn't find something.

"Where's the price tag?" Ian asked as he looked over a pair of work jeans that certainly did not fit his idea of tween fashion.

"Huh?" Ben looked confused then shrugged. "Sorry Ian, I keep forgetting. This is the Grove, you don't buy and sell here. Peggy will keep a tally of what we use and compare it to her inventory. She will speak with David if we are taking more than what we need. The Grove itself buys all the inventory."

Ian decided he would never figure that one out but heck if he didn't need cash or credit card that was cool with him. Unfortunately it didn't appear fashion was very important in the Grove. Jeans were strictly functional. Shirts were mostly plaid and flannel. Underwear was white and boxers. If you wanted to look like well outfitted farmer kid it was fashion mecca. All else was just boring. Ian quickly ended up letting Ben do most of the choices and just submitted to trying things on as asked. In fact the only time he paid attention was when Ben added three boxes to the pile.

"Uh, Ben 3;" He blushed.

"Jocks and cups." Ben help up the box. "Boys like contact sports here Ian, especially staff fighting and wrestling, you don't want to find out what a staff in the nuts feels like, trust me."

Ian tried to make a smile but the idea of wearing one of those contraptions on his junk was not comfortable. And the idea that Ben was thinking about him wearing one on his junk was even more distressing. Ben winked at him and Ian tried to die from embarrassment. Thankfully Ben also pronounced them done and ready to go back. Which reminded him of his book.

Chapter Three

"I thought you talked to it." Ben whispered as David set the table for lunch.

"I did." David sounded amused. "It started the conversation with telling me to mind my own business and it went downhill from there. I don't believe you have met that particular book."

"No." Ben admitted. "I thought I knew all the scholar books, it's not like there are a lot of them."

"True." David took a break to sit down and explain. "This particular one is known as the Book of Wendal the Mad. Does that help."

"Not really." Ben laughed. "Wendal is a myth, kind of like Robin Hood, Merlin and Einstein all rolled into one. And he was hardly a scholar."

"Lot you know." David grabbed a sandwich off the plate. "Wendal is famous because he was a bit of a warrior and had a tendency to take on anyone or anything that crossed his sense of right and wrong. The stuff you read is about the time from when he was an early teen till he was perhaps twenty of so. When he finally settled down he was a hell of a scholar. In fact one of the best on record and if you ask the other books they'll tell you so. And I also happen to sit on the Council so I know the old Records. Wendal did have a book and it chooses someone about once every hundred years or so.

"Not with much success I might add." David sighed. "Wendal made a lot of enemies among the others. He was particularly hated by the Vampire clans. They seem to have some way of knowing when the book chooses another boy and none have lived past the age of assumption."

Ben half rose from his seat and then sat back down but his eyes were cold.

"No one is killing that boy." He said coldly.

"Didn't say they were." David remarked then tossed the half eaten sandwich on the plate. "But I also didn't say they couldn't. Wendal's book is even more committed than you are to keeping Ian alive. In fact if I read it right it is going all out to give Ian the tools to combat anything that comes against him. Unfortunately you and I both know that books do not give real life experience. We also know that no person fighting alone stands a chance against a Vampire clan. There is no way they can reach him in the Grove but I am also convinced they may try."

"Then they die the real death." Ben snarled and stood up. "And an hour is up."

Ian came through the door a second later looking happy.

"Thanks" He tried to adjust his crotch were the new jeans were chaffing. "That was really cool. I have no idea why the book makes me feel that good. I think it was teaching me a new alphabet. One with really wavy lines."

"Elvish." David commented and made room at the table. As expected Ian dived in like he had not eaten in days. "Rather a difficult language to learn. Let me know if you have headaches and I will tell him to slow down."

"Kind of fun." Ian shrugged then dropped his food. "Sorry, I promised to do a chore before eating."

"Chore?" Ben raised an eye.

"The sidewalk needs better shoveling and it's my job." Ian took off with a sandwich in his hand.

"I do believe he will do well in the Grove." David looked pleased.

"Tea dear?" Regina offered Katy as they sat by the window looking down the street at Ian shoveling the walk.

Katy sniffed to make sure and nodded. Regina was not above a bit of fun herbing her old students tea.

"Sure." Katy took the pot and poured for them both.

"You're positive it was after the boy." Regina had just finished the debrief from the trip and catching up on Katy's college exploits.

"Only way to be any more sure was to let it sink its fangs in him." Katy sipped her tea contentedly. "It was after him Regina."

"Then I want it dead." Regina snapped in a tone extremely few people knew she was capable of.

Katy winced.

"Don't give me that look." Regina took a deep breath and put her face back on, sipped her tea and smiled. "I happen to be the head of security for the Grove Katy and though I would get a little testy at the thought of one of them coming anywhere near that close to the Grove, and extremely angry if they were actually hunting one of our kids that close, I am going to be slightly off the deep end when one goes after the first scholar we have had in ten years. So I want it dead and you can put your college classes and fun on hold till it is."

"Got it." Katy looked depressed. Hunting vamps was hard work, especially when you had no idea what clan they belonged to or how many hundred of miles they had gone.

"Cheer up dear." Regina smiled at her. "I did not train you to be incompetent and you tracked your first kill when you were barely thirteen. It should take you less than a week. And from the attack style I suspect less than that. Arrogance and public rest rooms are bad trade even for fresh turns."

"And the Treaty?" Katy asked.

"The boy is on the Registry." Regina frowned. "And the hunt took place on our land. Caleb will be informed of that."

Katy sipped her tea. The last time there had been a war it had run for over fifty years and resulted in the deaths of half the Grove and more than twenty times that in Vamps. In fact four whole vampire clans had been destroyed. Caleb was old enough to remember that and how close he had come to being on the list. He would do what he had to to prevent another war. Particularly now that Ben was back, and she knew for a fact that Regina would mention that little fact.

Ian had just finished shoveling the walk and putting the shovel back in its place by the door when he heard the sniffle. He turned and saw a scrawny kid of about ten who had tears dripping down his face. Snot too of course but heck, if you were crying that hard snot was expected.

"Sorry," the kid mumbled then looked at the ground. "It was my job and I didn't do it right."

"Well it could have been better." Ian admitted. After all it had been a single blade path that barely went down to the surface. Now it was three feet [90 cm] wide and the walk was swept of both ice and snow. Then he looked at the kid again and felt terrible. No one should cry like that over some snow. "Hey, no problem. It's my job now." He stuck out a hand. "I'm Ian, just got here today."

"Peter." The boy shook but didn't look at all happy. "If you want to pound on me, I deserve it you know."

"I ain't pounding on anyone." Ian replied indignantly. "Not for a couple shovel loads of snow anyway. I said it's good and if I understand the rules around here this is my responsibility now so if I say it's good it's good."

"It was my fault." Peter repeated and Ian just glared at him to knock it off.

"My book needed me." Peter sobbed and made to shuffle off.

"Needed you?" Ian asked and for some reason took the kids shoulder to turn him around.

"Nick says it's dying." Peter kept looking at the ground. "I live with him next door to you. My book is really old. It is trying to teach me wood working but it's loosing its voice. I can barely hear it any more. Nick says when it dies he'll talk to the other books and see if one wants me."

Something happened in Ian's mind. He had no idea what it was but suddenly he knew what it was asking of him.

"Let's go see your book." Ian said confidently. "If it is sick it probably needs visitors and I'd like to meet it."

"Really?" Peter looked shocked. "You have to be really smart to talk to someone else's book. Like sixteen or something. And Nick says he can barely do it at all with my book. You think you can?"

"No way to know till I try." Ian shrugged and tried to sound positive. "And like I said, everyone likes to know that people care about them when they are sick. Maybe it will help."

Boyish logic to be sure but Ian had no way of knowing how to express the vibrant pulsing in his mind. He wasn't even in the same room with his book and couldn't hear it at all but it was something the book had told him. Something important. Something about a sick book.

Nick was not home. Visiting according to Peter who didn't seem capable of stopping his crying but did have enough manners to invite him in and hang up his coat before showing him in to the study where he reverently took down a battered old book with frayed leather binding.

Ian lost focus almost instantly.

It was a VERY old book and the writing was so odd. So soft. Swirly.

ELVISH!

He smiled.

"You're hurt." He stepped forward and laid a very gentle hand on the binding.

"I am old." The book stated in a voice that sounded far away. "Older than old. I have nothing left to give."

"Peter loves you." Ian offered with his mind.

"As I do him," the book offered back simply. "Such a sweet mind. I had thought that just once more I would teach a master wood worker. Someone who could put magic into the work. Unfortunately I will leave him simply sad."

"You just need some new life." Ian said happily and focused.

"NO! " the book screamed. "It is too dangerous! You will kill yourself."

"Nope." Ian stated confidently and poured out his life.

Ben dropped his fork and rushed into the study where Ian's book swore and shouted for help.

"Pick me up and run you idiot." The book snapped and Ben did so seeing the instant flash of Ian collapsing in Nick's study.

"DAVID!" He shouted. "Healer! Nick's study. NOW." and dashed out the door.

"You healed my book." Peter gasped and clasped the singing new bound book to his chest. "We can hear each other! Bookbinder! You're a Bookbinder!"

Ian sat on the floor and tried to smile. He knew he could do it. And the book sounded so fresh now. His mind could see it caressing Peter's with love and happiness. Still he was now suddenly very very tired and cold and the floor looked like as good as any a place to close his eyes.

"You will not!" His own book landed on his chest as Ben cradled him in his arms. "Now stay awake you little idiot or I will have that oaf holding you slap you a few times to get your attention."

Ian was bemused. Man his book could swear when it wanted to. Maybe he should remember some of those words for later.

"Great." The book snapped at him. "You almost kill yourself rebinding a book that is over four thousand years old and all you can think about is remembering my favorite swear words. Wendal himself would have been exhausted after that stunt. You OAF drop a power charge on his heart before we lose him." The book went back to swearing.

Ben jolted at the power of that order. He also didn't like being called an oaf by a five hundred year old book but that was beside the point. He was no healer and a power charge could kill as well as cure.

"Oh shut up and do it." The book ordered. "It's not like I am going to let you mess up."

Ben released a very small charge and Ian jolted back to consciousness.

"Again." The book ordered. "The little bastard just poured almost twenty years worth of hard labor into that book and it will take more than that to recharge him. Stop being nice. I'll limit the damage to a bit of bruising you just give me the charge."

Ben saw Ian fade again and out of desperation ramped up the charge to that he would have used to kill a troll. This time Ian almost jumped out of his arms and looked panicked.

"Now that is a nice bit of power oaf," the book said in satisfaction. "Tell the healer he need tea and a nap, then fix him a cow or two, he needs to eat. Oh and if anyone takes me out of his arms for the next day I am going to remove their nuts with a teaspoon, am I clear on that oaf?"

Ben nodded but his eyes were now on Ian who appeared exhausted and tired but happy. The other boy, the one with the new bound book was on his knees and it didn't take rocket science to see hero worship.

"He's a bookbinder." Peter said in awe. "He saved my book."

"So it would appear." Ben offered as David and Nancy the Healer rushed in the door.

"He's a bookbinder." Peter held up his book to them in awe. "Look what he did."

If anyone was more shocked than Peter it was David and Nancy. No one had seen an actual bookbinder in over a hundred years. Scholars sure, and a good scholar could write a book given enough time and talent. But an actual binder, someone who could bring the ancient books back to condition was something of myth.

Ben related what he had done to Nancy who looked scandalized and spent a few minutes examining the boy herself.

"Well it did work." She said skeptically. "But please don't ask me how. People are not car batteries you can recharge with a jolt like that. I'll want to look in on him this afternoon and again in the morning. Other than that I agree, a nap and rest, then as much food as he needs. Oh and no physical exertion till I can see the lasting effects if any."

"I'll do his chores." Peter piped in promptly. "REALY good this time!"

David nodded and confirmed this was acceptable. Ben then picked the boy up to carry home.

"What's the big deal," Ian asked just before he fell asleep in his arms. "It was just a book that needed help. I knew how to do it."

His own book started muttering about precocious idiots.

Ian was out. Like a light in many ways. He slept till past six, woke up and ate like a starving man. Peed and was cold again by seven thirty. Nor did he wake up till almost noon the next day when he again ate everything he could put his hands on and promptly fell back asleep. Each time he complained that he knew exactly what he had been doing and what was the big deal? He was just a little more tired than expected.

Ben walked in on him that night and caught him staring into his book.

"Is that a good idea?" Ben asked as sat on the boy's bed.

"I'm getting yelled at." Ian sounded resigned and closed the book. "He's spent the last hour telling me off and telling me why what I did was stupid. He's also mad at me for not being sorry I saved the other book's life. He says I am a stubborn urchin with delusions of grandeur."

"I have been accused of my share of stubborn in my life." Ben propped himself up on the pillows next to the boy. "But your book is correct you know. What it teaches you is very dangerous stuff sometimes and you could get hurt very badly trying things you don't fully understand."

"I understood it Ben." Ian looked up at the man and was suddenly conscious that they were laying side by side in a bed. Still it was a serious conversation and for some reason it was important to him the Ben understand his position. "It was really very simple. The book and I have been arguing that. Wendal was a bookbinder but not a very good one. He understood how to do it but not how easy it was. When the book showed me how it just thought I would consider it too hard and not try. In fact I think it thought I would not come across a book I wanted to heal for years. But I did. And I really wanted to help Peter. He was so sad. Do you know he thought I would pound on him for not shoveling the walk good enough?"

"Not unexpected in the Grove." Ben offered. "But go on. I think you had a different point."

"Well." Ian frowned. "It's like I told my book. I knew how and I knew it would cost me. But so what? Peter loves his book and it loves him. Nobody loves me and my book just curses at me when I don't do what it wants. So what if I pour out my life to save a book."

"Ian." Ben took the boy's shoulders and made sure he was looking him directly in the eye. "I will not hear that again. You are a wonderful boy and what you did was a noble and good thing. But not at the cost of your own life." Ben took a deep breath. "Look, you have had it rough, hell, ninety nine percent of the kids who come to the Grove have it rough to start with. But just like Peter you are going to find that you are loved and that you are worth loving. It is part of what we do here."

He paused as second and saw a question in the boy's eyes. One he had to answer.

"Yes." He said simply. "I would be a fool to tell you that I love you after just a couple of days but yes Ian. I do believe I will love you with all my heart. I believe David will love you as well. And I know for a fact that you have Peter who would happily storm the gates of a Vampire Kings castle if you asked him to. You are a wonderful boy Ian, so I don't want to hear any more about you throwing away your life no matter what kind of good deed it is. Clear?"

Ian looked stubborn but Ben did not push it. They would certainly return to this subject but the best cure would be for Ian to feel loved.

"OK." He stood up. "Two days in bed is not good for any boy no matter how sick he is. Plus you haven't had a bath since you got here and that's just plan disgusting. So I want to see a naked boy headed for the shower."

"You want to see me naked?" Ian looked shocked but giggled and Ben smirked.

"Well I hadn't meant it like that." He rolled his eyes then smirked back. "But if you want the truth, yeah, I always like perving on cute butts. And don't look so surprised. David already told you it's no big deal. You don't want me touching your stuff that's cool. You do that's cool too."

Ian looked confused but Ben ended the conversation by dumping him out of bed then mock kicking/tickling him with his foot till he headed for the bathroom.

Ben paused when he heard Ian's book snort at him.

"Problems?" He thought back.

"Hardly oaf," the book sneered. "It's not like anyone with me for a book would be straight now is it? Frankly I was just surprised you waited this long to get the ball rolling. Now get."

Ian was nervous. Heck he was scared to death and his heart was racing a billion beats a second. He was naked in a shower and there was a big, huge guy with muscles that could crush him and who looked like he belonged in a movie, washing his hair. Worse he was humming like he did this with eleven year old boys every day. And that wasn't all. They both had hard cocks and Ben didn't seem to care about that either.

"A bit scary huh." Ben asked at last as he rinsed Ian's hair. "Personally I freaked out the first time a guy got wood in front of me. I figured he would fuck my ass and I'd die right there." He laughed. "Actually John was a really nice guy. We made out all night, jerked off and had a very nice weekend. He didn't take my cherry for over a month, hurt like hell of course but overall very nice. I assume you are wondering the same kind of things. Like am I going to molest you?"

Ian was about to say no but remembered the last time he had lied since having a book. He rubbed his arm and told the truth.

"Kinda." He stammered and looked down at the huge cock.

"It kinda has the answer for what I WANT to do doesn't it." Ben laughed and began soaping his own hair. "No getting around the truth Ian. I think you're sexy and would very much like us to play cock games together. But only if you want to, if not then I'll jerk off in my room tonight. With me, 'no' will always mean 'no' and I will respect your boundaries. We clear on that?"

"Uh, yeah." Ian muttered but his eyes were on the guy's cock.

"I'm not sure we are." Ben sighed and rinsed. "I think you're actually too busy looking at my dick to hear what I am saying. So tonight cute boy I am giving you an option. No one is going to touch anyone else's boy bits but if you want to spend the night cuddled up in bed with me I for one would really enjoy it."

Ian looked up. That did not sound at all scary and it was 3; right.

"Can I?" He asked as Ben shut off the water and reached for towels.

"Said so didn't I?" Ben tossed a towel over his head. "I do recommend we both wear 'jama's tonight though. Reduces chances of a 3; misunderstanding." He laughed.

***

"Good morning." David was mounding the table with food as usual as Ian and Ben entered. "I trust you two slept well together?"

Ian blushed deep red.

"Would have slept better if I was less horny." Ben grinned and Ian felt like crawling under the table. "I see it snowed again last night?"

"It is winter." David looked out. "And someone is going to have to talk to Peter. He was shoveling at six and that's way to early to wake the neighborhood."

"Shoveling is my job." Ian took a deep breath then looked at the food. "After breakfast. I'll let him know I'm doing it again."

David nodded.

"Actually I think Ben and I can keep an eye on it for the day," he countered and Ben nodded. "I think a good idea would be for you and Peter to run a couple of errands for me. And perhaps meet a few more of your peers." He paused. "I am sure they all want to meet the famous Bookbinder by now."

Ian blushed and both David an Ben proceeded to give him a hard time over it.

"That's the woodworking building." Peter informed his hero as they passed the small mill pond and rounded the corner to a large stone building. "You have to be chosen by a crafting book to enter. Though a scholar can go anywhere they want. I am not sure on the rules for a bookbinder."

Ian tried not to grimace. It seemed Peter could not divorce anything from his status as a bookbinder and most of that meant telling him over and over again that he didn't know what a bookbinder could and couldn't do.

"You work in there?" He tried to shift the subject.

"Work?" Peter grinned. "No one works in the Grove Ian. If it isn't fun we just don't do it. When my book speaks to me he tells me all kinds of neat things to try with wood and I go there to practice. Some of the older guys are always there to teach you the safety rules and make sure you follow them but everyone does. Most of the time anyway."

Ian nodded and then pointed to the large building on the corner.

"Boys music school." Peter said in what sounded like contempt. "Bunch of stuck up's if you ask me. Always talking about music magic and how they can put you to sleep with a song or make you think you're a bird with a couple of notes on a flute. Girls are almost as bad and the only good thing is the two don't seem to like each other." Peter paused. "Hey, it's almost time for morning self defense class. You want to watch? It's staffs in the morning you know. Nick says I'm way behind because I was mopping over my book and I have to start over."

"I was wondering why you weren't carrying one." Ian remarked. "I thought everyone did except for me."

"Nope." Peter told him like it was old news. "If you're new you pick it up whenever you want. I really liked it when I first came here, got kind of good at it. Probably because I am a wood crafter. But Nick saw that I was not right and crying too much and didn't want me fighting anyone so he took mine away like two months ago. I get it back when I go to my first class again." The boy suddenly looked intense then beamed. "We can start together! And I am going to talk to my book as soon as we get home. We both owe you bookbinder so I'm going to make you the best staff in the Grove. In fact the best one ever!"

Ian thanked him and tried to get them back into motion. He had a shopping list in his pocket.

Peter on the other hand was more interested in showing Ian the town.

"That's Doug." Normally Peter had done grand introductions to nice enough kids that they ran across in town. This time it was a soft warning tone as they were approached by a boy of about thirteen with dark hair and brooding eyes. He was not an ugly kid by far. Quiet the opposite actually, but his look and attitude said he was trouble and Ian instantly wanted to turn around and be someplace else. The guy reeked of bully.

"Um. Doug, this is Ian." Peter began the introductions haltingly. "He's new here."

"Duh." Doug made a face that told Peter he was an idiot. "Of course he is new here. I also hear he is some kind of a hero bookbinder. As if wasting your life bringing back dying books is hero stuff. It's not like he killed a Vamp King or something. Just saved your moldy old wood book."

"Peter." Ian had his hand on his new buddy's shoulder. Peter may have been half the guy's size but he looked more than ready to fight. "Look man, no hassle. Just back off."

"Whatever." Doug smirked and walked on.

"Asswipe." Peter muttered and glared at him. "You wait till I get my staff back."

"He's twice your size." Ian countered.

"So." Peter glared at the departing back. "And I am twice as good with a staff and he knows it. Besides everyone knows that you just don't insult another guy's book."

Ian got them back in motion. They had to stop at what passed for a grocery store and both left with arm loads of bags.

"Where did you come from before this place?" Ian asked and Peter grinned.

"LA." Peter told him. "A really nice house up in the hills. We even had a pool. Dad was a gambler though and lost it all in Vegas. Mom walked out on him and dad wasn't around much. We were living in a hotel when I walked into the old book store and found my book. The guy who ran it gave my dad ten grand and he split." Peter laughed. "I was so worried I thought dad had sold me to some sex maniac. You get that in LA you know. But he was really cool and put me in a car headed here. That was like a year ago."

"Let me guess. He served really good cookies and tea." Both boys grinned.

"Cookies and tea means they want you to calm down and focus." Peter confirmed. "We have to eat a lot because the books take a lot of energy to read. But there are a lot of other things that our food does as well. Normally you can tell when they want you to take something because they put it in either tea or something sweet. Don't let it freak you out. It's usually for our own good. In fact the only thing to watch out for is if some girl offers you something that smells too good to be true. That's a love potion and they just want to make a fool out of you." Peter laughed. "Not harmful, but man you walk around acting like a total goof till it wears off. Penny slipped me one my first month here and I spent an afternoon proclaiming my love for her to everyone I met."

"I will avoid that." Ian said sincerely. "Say can we hurry a bit. I have an hour with my book before lunch."

"Huh?" Peter looked at him then nodded knowingly. "Sorry, I forget how much we need them when we first get here. Sure, in fact if you want I'll take the groceries in to David and you go to the study."

Ian thanked him profusely and picked up his pace.

Chapter Four

Well that was knew, Ben thought it while watching the shouting boy slam the book down on the table an hour later and storm out of the house.

"Shut up oaf," the book snapped at him.

"Can't say I have ever seen a boy slam his book on the table either." David offered from the door. "Screaming at one I have. Mind telling us what is happening."

"Yes I do mind," the book said nastily. "But as you are going to be helping raise this little cretin it is probably best we work together."

"Cretin?" David asked.

"I am mad at him." The book sniffed. "I have a tendency to call names when I am mad. Wendal was the same of course. Wonderful vocabulary when it came to swearing."

"So why are you mad at the boy today?" David pressed. He for one was not intimidated by the book.

"That incident with that elvish woodworking book was unexpected," the book said as if the act had violated some deep expectation. "It is rather advanced work and he was doing it with an Elvish book and only a couple of hours of training in the language. I mean, I knew he was brilliant when he found me, it's an extremely rare boy who even wakes me up to take a look, and he certainly was impressive enough to start him on something as challenging as Elvish. But to tackle bookbinding on an Elvish book? As I already stated it would have been difficult for Wendal himself. And now he refuses to talk to me about it and he refuses to promise not to do it again."

"Which, knowing you, meant you threatened him." David finished.

"I most certainly did no such thing!" Came the indignant reply. "Pester yes. In fact quiet a bit. But I did not threaten. I simply told him that if he was going to be like that he could just go on playing sex games with the oaf for all I cared and we would talk about it when he was ready."

David burst out laughing even as Ben contemplated a roaring fireplace and a good toss of one worthless old book.

"In your dreams oaf," the book read his mind then paused. "And on reflection that was more than a little crude of me and I am rather proud that he stood up to me and slammed me down."

"Well it's not the first time a boy had a fight with his book." David observed and went over to the shelf. His own book was up there and quietly agreed with that statement.

"I however am not used to making up," the book said bitterly. "Oh, well, the good ones are usually the most hard work. Oaf go calm him down and get him back here. The boy and I need to talk."

"Tonight." Ben said firmly. "Your morning time is up and I think he deserves the afternoon off."

"Agreed." The book sighed. "Now someone put me back up on the shelf."

"I HATE HIM!" Ian snapped as soon as Ben entered the room.

"No you don't." Ben sat on the bed and wrapped the crying boy in his arms.

"Yes I do. He said really mean things to me." Ian put his head on the mans chest. "I am not a brat, an idiot or a scoundrel and we haven't played any sex games."

"True." Ben stroked his hair. "On the other hand he is a very rude book. Books tend to act much like the person who wrote them Ian and this one was written by a very notorious sorcerer. Extremely powerful but also pretty anti social if the accounts are true. They called him Wendal the Mad. Which was not correct. He was not insane, he was just incredibly rude."

"I don't want a book if it's just going to be mean to me." Ian stated firmly.

"It's your book," Ben told him with a soft smile. "Maybe it's time you reminded it of that. Books don't rule readers. Readers rule books. This one has a foul mouth so tell it off. Or worse tell it you won't read any more till it learns to mind its manners. It will probably use some foul language at you and say some more bad things but remember, you're the reader."

Ben lifted the boy's chin to look at him.

"And I'll tell you a secret Ian." He smiled. "As much as it mouths off, David and I know all about this book. It rarely takes a boy but when it does it is one of the best things that can happen. The book has extremely high moral standards and has more knowledge to teach you than any ten other books. It will make you very happy if you can learn how to deal with its bad writing attitude."

"Did it hurt when I slammed it on the table." Ian suddenly looked worried.

"Just its dignity and pride." Ben laughed. "Every other book in the room saw that and it was extremely insulting. I would say you have adequate payback for that remark about us playing sex games."

"Good." Ian smirked. "He deserved it, and it will make it easier to make up knowing we're even."

"Probably." Ben admitted then rubbed his hand down the boy's chest. "Any interest in letting me touch you for a while?"

"Pants on?" Ian looked a bit worried but did not pull away.

"If that works for you." Ben gently pinched a nipple and the boy arched his back. "See, lots of places feel good, I don't need a penis to make you feel good. Now let's get our shirts off and make you forget about being mad at your book."

"Oh, man I need 3;" It was a half hour later and Ben was happily licking a nipple while Ian groaned under him. Both of them were hard as a rock but Ben had made no move toward either pair of jeans. Ian however was now tentatively playing with his belt buckle.

"Your call." Ben informed him with a whisper. "Tell me what you want Ian."

"I need to jerk off." Ian breathed and blushed at having said it so boldly.

"Then do it." Ben urged. "Or would you rather I do it for you?"

Ian paused and Ben waited.

"Ian?" He asked after a minute.

"Please?" the boy begged in a whisper. "You do it."

Ben was of the firm belief that if a boy asked you to jerk him off you should do it promptly. His hands went to the boy's belt and went to work. A minute later he was stroking a very nice uncut penis and watching an eleven year old thrash his way towards an orgasm. Twice he managed to tease the boy to the edge and hold him there but by the third time there was no holding back and the boy was begging for it to happen. So Ben let him crest over the top and held him tightly as he spasmed in his arms.

"Wickedly good." Ian snuggled into his chest at last. "I didn't know it could be so good."

"Glad you liked it." Ben adjusted his own boner. "And it's the exact right answer for your book next time as well you know."

"Huh?" Ian looked up at him.

"The next time he says something rude about us playing sex games tell him it's fun and you like it better than listening to him make rude comments. That will shut him up."

Ian had a very satisfied look on his face.

"Any chance is my turn or is it still too intimidating?" Ben asked hopefully as he placed the boy's hand on his crotch.

"Hummmm." Ian looked a bit worried. "I 3; uh 3; want to Ben, but 3; can I wait till tonight? Please?"

"Certainly." Ben snuggled them in for a nap. "But only till tonight then I either jerk off or die from frustration."

Katy was a good tracker. She had the right help of course and knew what to look for. Plus she had that call from Caleb's people.

"Joseph Rain, he is Canaritti Clan. We have information that he is staying in a motel in Parkwood. Nothing else."

The phone had went dead with no further comment and an hour later Katy was pulling into Parkwood with every hotel and motel loaded in her GPS. Which was a rather boring way to spend an afternoon actually. True to its name Parkwood served the tourists headed up into the State and National parks. It had RV centers, diners and more than a dozen hotels and motels serving the trade. Fortunately most of them were closed for the season. Unfortunately that information was something you only knew once you got there for many of them and Katy was on number five when she got her break.

The blue car was the same. It was parked in the back of a very vintage old motel and appeared to be one of only two rooms occupied in the whole place. The manager was a nice enough old woman in a blue print dress who bought the story about meeting a skiing friend and better yet accepted the small chocolate truffle from the box Katy offered her. A minute later they were old friends and dear Beth Anne was giving her the manager's key so she could surprise her friend. And oh, she was late for that wonderful soap opera so she would just hurry home. No one could possibly need her and her relief was always early.

Katy checked the windows first. You could always tell by the windows. Closed drapes meant that some long distance traveler was out like a light or some local was banging someone he didn't want his wife knowing about. Closed drapes with bedspread showing meant that some Vamp had gone through the trouble of making sure there was no light leaking in before covering himself in the sheets.

Contrary to popular myth none of them wanted to be sealed in a coffin and most were rather partial to beds. A few were smart enough to go for a closet in case someone walked in but most liked a nice soft bed.

Katy looked at the sun and shadows and grimaced.

In best case scenario there would be plenty of sun and she would simply open the door pull the crap off the window and step back. With direct light the asshole would flame out in about thirty seconds including the ten seconds of screaming. By that point the sprinkler system would ignite and she would walk away.

With this old of a building sprinklers were iffy at best. Plus the jerk had been smart enough to pick a room that would never see direct sunlight. Probably by using a line that he needed his sleep. In that case the minute she walked in the room he would be awake and though the light would be enough to get him to smolder a bit she was going to have to do this the hard way.

She paused and considered all of the different options.

Fire, but she would have to burn the whole place down.

Beheading, fun but she had not brought a sword and would have looked a bit odd walking around with one.

Stake through the heart, still the classic but you just never knew if you were going to get it right with the first stab and it was a bitch if you missed.

Holy water was an option but if you had enough to do the deed you basically had a holy swimming pool. The rest was just like pelting him with hot water.

Garlic was nice if you just wanted him to run away and that was hardly the option here.

The gun in her hand would certainly hurt and slow him down but that was also not why she was her.

Well fortunately she was a girl who had been raised with resources and a very very good botany book did wonders with these little problems. She took the bag out of her purse and filled her hands with the powder then opened the door and walked in.

"Hello Joseph." She said sweetly as the vamp sat up and snarled at her. Enough light was coming in the door that he was smoking already. He was also pissed and had his fangs out. She could see him estimate the range to her and the door.

"Now Joseph." She chided and pointed the gun at his head. "We both know how long it would take you to regenerate half your skull and you really wouldn't like to do that would you?"

He paused. It would take a week during which he would probably be in the local morgue and getting out of being buried alive was not fun. Worse there was always the chance someone would order a complete autopsy. And that was extremely painful.

"Close the fucking door." He snarled and tried to shake away the burning on his face.

"In a second Joseph." She told him happily. "I am just going to stay long enough to ask a question. You answer it I leave. Don't answer it and you know exactly what your chances are."

The vamp was a smart one and remained silent.

"Why were you after that boy the other night?" She asked.

"The Canaritti owe the Ranarii clan a favor." He snarled. "They asked for his blood and I happened to be in the area. Something about an old vendetta. The Ranarii are ancient and take those kinds of things seriously. Probably the great grandson of someone who spilled a drink at a diner. I don't have a fucking clue. Now close the door I need to catch a plane back to Europe tonight."

"Certainly." Katy told him and lowered the gun. "And thank you for being so cooperative. But I don't think you have to worry about the plane." She opened her hand, tossed the powder and closed the door after her. The screaming would be ugly in a minute, nasty stuff that mushroom and ground oak.

She went back to the manager's office returned the manager's key to its place and then made sure to erase all of the video. A bit of cleanser to wipe things down and she left a happy girl. Maybe professor Clark would even forgive her for missing the final this week.

Regina got off the phone and moved into her den. Her book called to her but she was not in the mood for its council. She needed another one and took it from the top shelf with care. Like most books it was old, worn and more than it seemed. She concentrated and found it more than a bit perturbed at being disturbed.

"Yes?" It asked peevishly. "Weren't you just here yesterday asking about Wendal the Mad?"

"You know perfectly well I was." Regina put the book in its place with her tone. "And I would thank you to assume a more professional attitude for a history book. I would like to know about any vendetta's the Ranerii clan of vampire would have."

"That's quiet a list." The book laughed at her. "I assume you have most of the day or better parameters than that. Ranerii have been around for nine hundred forty three years and they take vendetta's seriously."

"I need one that would target a boy who reads Wendal's book of course." Regina told it.

"Hmmm. A much more interesting question." He paused. "Let's see. I have reference to Wendal crossing the Ranerii a few times. Nothing major, slaughtering a few of their allies, killing four, possibly five of them for hunting too close to his lands. All fairly typical sparing and not worthy of a vendetta like that even for a clan as touchy as the Ranerii. I would recommend the Book of Clans. She is the expert, I am just a reference."

"Thank you." Regina stated and pulled her mind out of the book. She did not like its recommendation but saw no other recourse. She put the reference back and unlocked the bottom drawer. It was not a dangerous book like some in this drawer but it would just not do to have some poor child stumble on it. Maria had been a saint but her work had been dark indeed. Well, someone had had to do it.

"Regina." The book welcomed her warmly as she set it on the table and opened her mind. "What can I do for you dear?"

"I need some information on the Ranerii clan." She said and felt more comfortable than she wanted to be. Maria had been a kind woman doing a bad job, like her her book was kind and considerate but often revealed horrible things. She went on to explain Ian and the dead Carnetti vampire.

"Not good Regina, not good at all." The book tisked at her. "Ranerii rarely leave Italy, Milan to be exact. If they have one nice trait it is that they just love that city. Do you know they have rules on which streets they can hunt on even there?" The book paused. " I have many Vendetta's of course. They are rather notorious for them. But I see nothing that would impact Wendal the Mad or any reader of his book. Do you mind if I look up a few other citations dear?"

"Not at all." Regina said contentedly. Maria was really very good in organizing her work. Most other books had to be told to cross reference or dig on their own. Scholars books of course could do all that and more, but for reference works like this it was impressive.

"The data is horribly slim Regina," the book warned pensively. "but I do have a lead for you."

"Please share it." Regina encouraged and the book almost purred in delight at the thought it could be helpful after all.

"Well, I happened to have a cross reference that the Ranerii often work as cut outs for a few other unsavory types. Not Clans of course. I would have full data on that and the Ranerii are too old to be any other vampire clans lackeys. What I found was that throughout their history they have often been suspected of working for the Ron Coven, book burners!"

"Inquisition lackeys, fools and the worst kind of witchcraft." Regina snarled. "And they have a connection to Wendal?"

"Of course," the book seemed scandalized she did not know. "They are the ones who got him burned a the stake when he was ninety seven dear. I don't believe you have a complete copy of those histories here at the Grove. I think Pine Haven might have them. I suggest you contact them."

Regina thanked the book and put it back. She was making entirely too many phone calls for her liking but saw no other option.

"Walter." She said pleasantly into the phone two minutes later. "Regina here."

"Ah, Regina," the voice sounded pleasant and relaxed. "And on the phone at this hour. What kind of emergency can I help you with my friend. Pine Haven is always there for Oak Grove you know."

Regina considered Walter to be slightly less than competent but he was the Pine Haven historian. She would have preferred to deal with Marcus, he was their security head, but unfortunately there were polite rules to these things. She therefore took the lengthy time to explain.

"Nasty bit of work." Walter commented at last. "Personally I would not mind a vendetta of our own when it comes to the Ron Coven at least. Imagine, burning books! And yes we do happen to have a book about them. We also have a very rare book that includes much about Wendal. Tell you what, we have a very nice boy named Ken who is just ready to step out into the world. I'll give him both books and stick him on a jet first thing in the morning. Would that help?"

"It certainly would Walter." Regina retracted all of her skeptical evaluations in favor of gratitude. "And we would be happy to put the young man up for as long as he chooses to stay. Seeing another refuge is a very educational experience."

"Very much so." Walter agreed. "Oh and before I hang up, I'll also run this by Marcus if you don't mind. If the Ron Coven wants to work outside of Europe then they will have to fly in and that gives Pine Haven a much better chance at spotting them than you have. And I for one would very much like to see how they like dealing with a refuge full of Pine Haven trained hunters."

"I wish you good hunting." Regina offered hopefully and closed the connection.

She sat thinking for a few minutes and found her fingers running along the side of her table. She knew what they wanted to do of course. There were over three hundred Grove trained out in the world and in an hour she could have them all on alert. In two hours she could have a strike team. With council approval in six hours they would be on war footing.

But for what? A single dead vamp and a suspicion?

Besides, they were in the Grove and Ben was now the boy's Foster. It would take more than the Ron to get by Ben and if they did, well, war would be the least of the Ron Coven's worries. Still it was worth putting her coat on and seeing if Ben was up for a cup of tea.

Ben was not up for a cup of tea. He was up for a beer and brought three to the table. David didn't care for it much but Regina was a secret beer lover and she sipped hers with relish. Not that any of them were ever drunk. Ben remembered the one time he had been drinking in the outside world and had returned with a buzz, not only had his book refused to talk to him but the alcohol had acted like a magnet to four separate vampires. It had been a rather stressful night he had not been sure he would survive. So one was always the limit and even that one was to be nursed.

Regina gave her explanations and then waited while Ben and David debated and asked questions. Ian was with his book making up and no one was concerned about him coming in for the next hour or two.

"The wards won't hold against Ron." Ben sighed at last. "They were not designed for humans."

"You're taking this as more than just a speculation then." David looked skeptical.

"No, I am being paranoid." Ben grinned. "The chances of a Coven taking us on are less than a Clan taking us on." He laughed. "Most of our fourteen year old's can handle your average witch, and what the Foster's could do to them is enough to make them wet their pants fifty miles away."

"Very true Ben" Regina had a faint smile. "But remember the Ron Coven never worked its deeds itself. They got books by stealing them, by sending the Inquisition after their owners, by working with the vampires to keep us distracted and from time to time working with even worse. And I am extremely worried about the books not at the Grove. Maxwell Nash for example has twenty two of them and they won't be here safe till June. Can we risk that?"

Ben considered.

"Probably." He said at last. "We have only a slim chance of this being the book burners and we still have no reason to believe they are targeting us. Until we see evidence of someone other than a lone vamp I don't see a reason to get too protective. I suggest we warn the emissaries. Nash could probably hold off a Coven by himself but I am not so sure on security for other attacks. I would also suggest we set up our contingency plans. I know how much our Hunters hate false alerts but it wouldn't hurt to tell them to line up their vacation days and sick leaves in case we need to call them in."

Regina nodded. Most of their people were neither kids nor Fosters and lived in the normal world. Most had nothing to do with hunting vamps or anything else and lived rather normal lives. But even warriors needed a job and if you were suddenly called to active duty for the Grove it was nice to know you had lined up your vacation time. On the other hand there were warriors and then there were warriors and when she raised an eyebrow she could tell that Ben knew exactly what she meant.

"If we need them." He countered and said no more. Regina gave a smile that said she was grateful and let it drop.

"Now this will probably hurt a bit," the book warned Ian as he sat at the table looking down into its pages. "Elvish is a tricky language and it hurts the human mind a bit to grasp the meaning of the words. Still I think it's worth it and if you get it right you'll get the rest of it fairly easily."

"I'm ready." Ian said bravely.

"Little fool," the book kidded him and began the lesson.

It did hurt, a bit more than Ian liked but he held in there. The words were really tough to understand. Like Tahralagarahamaliana, the sound of a leaf as it dropped from an oak tree on a windy day. It didn't make a lot of sense till you also realized that that sound was the one you were supposed to make at the end of Pemiakaliank, the gesture that would cause a slight increase in the vibration of air around an object at such a rate that the object would burn.

"Wood or paper or oil." Ian speculated to himself as he finally understood the meaning of the word.

"Granite or Iron or titanium." The book quipped. "Stop thinking with your human senses. The object is to make something burn, it doesn't matter what the something is. If you use that the right way it will burn. How much, how long and how hot depend on the emotion and energy you are willing to put into it. What is burning makes no difference at all."

"So I could burn water." Ian mocked.

"Of course." The book did not back down. "In your terms you would be stripping its electrons away and making it burn, but in reality mostly what you would see is a lot of steam. It would also be fairly exhausting. Iron is much easier. If you want to get into the chemistry of what would happen with each element we can surely waste the time, I recommend settling for knowing that whatever it is you can pretty much burn it."

Ian frowned and the book sighed, It had learned that that frown meant something with its boy.

"So spit it out," the book snapped.

"Eh, this is like really dangerous stuff." Ian almost whispered. "I mean if I get it right all I have to do is think it wrong and I could burn down the house."

"Not really." The book did a mental shrug while feeling very pleased indeed. It was rather nice working with a boy whose moral compass was this firmly set. He had worked with much worse. "This is one of the beauties of Elvish. It's a language of emotion and intent. If you don't have the intent AND the emotion you could repeat that phrase and gesture all day long and nothing would happen except you would go horse and wear your hand out. You know actually if you got the intent and emotion perfect I suspect you wouldn't even need the voice and gesture, but not even an Elf could get it that perfect."

"Good." Ian seemed satisfied. "I wouldn't want to burn stuff by mistake. Do you think it is safe to practice?"

"Well, I would say yes but in honesty you're a bit of a quick learner and have more power than most. I suggest you get the oaf to take you out to some nice secluded spot and let you practice there."

"Ben is not an oaf." Ian said hotly.

"To me he is," the book gave a mental shrug. "A rather useful one and I believe I actually like him, but still an oaf. Mind you I may change my mind. He shows rather a large degree of intelligence for an oaf. I'll decide after the next emergency or two."

Ian was about to comment but the book suddenly informed him time was up and it was time to go play sex games with the oaf. To which he returned a rather rude comment he had heard from the book about where to put certain opinions. The book of course was not impressed.

"For you." Peter said proudly as he presented Ian with the deep mahogany colored staff.

Ian took the weapon that was a foot taller than he was and fell in love at once. The wood was beautiful and rich, it felt heavy and light all at the same time and perfectly balanced in his hand. Better it seemed to channel something inside of him and almost glowed in his mind.

"Book and I spent most of last night on it." Peter said proudly. "Nick didn't like it but he talked with book and agreed I could do it just this once."

"What kind of wood is it." Ian asked in a hushed voice as if it was a secret.

"Nae Oak." Peter told him proudly. "Book told me there was one growing and where to find it and I told it why I needed the wood and it gave me a whole branch."

"You didn't have to cut it?" Ian looked skeptical. He had no idea what Nae Oak was.

"Oh no!" Peter looked shocked at the idea. "You cut regular wood but that's not real work. Elf work you have to do better than that. You ask the trees for exactly what you need and if they agree you get to make what you want. The Nae Oak is very old, it was kind of nice to talk to. It agreed that saving book was a really good deed so it agreed to give me enough to make you a staff. Book and I stayed up last night putting the magic in it and getting the properties right. Book says I did it as good as any Elf craftsman and says you should make sure you never hit anything with it that you don't want to kill."

Peter grinned and leaned forward.

"I got him to put a dueling rule on it though so if you get in a fight here in the Grove it will refuse to kill anyone. That was kind of complicated and I had to tell the Staff the name of every person who lives here. Even Doug. So it will refuse to kill any of them but will let you pound on them."

"Thank's Peter." Ian hugged his friend. "It's the best thing and I know how much you worked on it. Thank you."

"You saved book." Peter said simply. "No one else could." He looked up. "Hey let's run or we'll miss the start of the lesson."

Ian took off after him.

To his surprise Ian found that Ben was teaching staff class.

"Best in the Grove." Peter whispered in his ear while Ben was lining them up. "I heard he used to kick bullies around just for fun."

"I also kick around people who talk in my class when they should be listening." Ben stated and everyone laughed, including Peter. Ben let it die down then took position in front of them leaning on a worn looking white staff.

"Now let's start with the basics. In this case your history." Someone moaned an Ben grinned. "A moan means you don't appreciate it and therefore need it more than the people who haven't heard it before Glenn."

"Sorry Ben." The boy at the end of the line actually did look regretful.

"Anyway. Perhaps you'll start the ball rolling by telling us why the Grove let's you nice young fellows beat each other with sticks. Not that you don't deserve it from time to time." again people laughed and Ian grinned. Ben was way cool.

"Because we are too dangerous if we used our other powers." Glenn said it like it was old news.

"Exactly." Ben praised. "The staff is basically harmless compared to what you could do if you were using your skills against each other. For example, Glenn you are in music correct?"

"Harp." Glenn agreed readily.

"And what would happen if you got mad at me and decided to play a few of those notes your book is teaching you?" Ben asked.

"Nothing good." Glenn looked serious. "I could probably make you dance yourself to death. Or I could make the note so sad it would stop your heart from the pain. Bad things Ben." Glenn shuddered.

"Exactly." Ben repeated. "Which means we would wake up the next day feeling horrible about what we had just done in anger. So until we learn control we learn staff."

Ian raised his hand and Ben nodded to him.

"Can't you do magic with a staff?" He asked and people snickered. Ben however looked impressed.

"Actually you can." He replied and the kids suddenly stopped snickering. "Most of you will never bother to learn that. Some few in the wood crafts might have a book that knows a thing or two about it, but mostly staff magic is reserved for people who devote their lives to it. Most of our security people can do a bit of it and you'd be surprised how many Fosters know how to do it. But it's considered high end skills." He paused as if trying to determine something then looked down at one of the older boys. "Bob, how would you stop a witch with a staff?"

The boy Bob grinned.

"Sharp crack over the top of the head should do it." everyone laughed and Ben grinned.

"Correct." Ben stood up. "Remember there is magic and then there is skill. Witches are scary enough but can hardly stand up to one of us on their best days. If one comes at you you crack it over the head. A vamp is another story, You could beat on it all day and it would still be crawling towards you. So today we will work on skills to make it crawl slower." More laughter. "I am particularly fond of breaking its knees, for example if you 3;"

Ian considered the class wildly enjoyable and was shocked he was actually good at it. Or maybe it was the staff. It seemed to want to help him with every move. He told Ben that and was surprised that Ben disagreed. According to him the staff magic could only work if he already knew what he wanted to do.

Chapter Five

Lynn Tavernis barely made it home. In fact she had let her fifteen year old son drive the car. An action that had the boy in a panic and demanding to call 911. Lynn however knew in her gut the source of the pain in her chest and barely waited till the van stopped before rushing out to the house. The door was open, someone had smashed it in, but she raced past the untouched TV, the wallet on the table and the other assorted burglary targets and in to her room. There she fell to her knees and sobbed.

The safe was open, there was a large red cross painted on the wall, someone had dragged the charcoal burner into the room and the remnants of her book were still smoking.

"Mom." Her son rushed in barely a half minute behind her.

"Timmy, call Aunt Regina." Lynn Tavernis slipped into a coma less than a minute later.

Caleb looked at the picture. The nice thing about working with blood was how many other people worked in the same media. Medics, doctors, police. Given enough time, decades, you could build a very nice network. A network that gave you exactly the information you wanted when you wanted it. Complete with forensic reports and pictures of suitable magnification.

"They are going to go ballistic." Twana was not the smartest of his lieutenants but she was highly accurate.

"Fuck." Caleb swore and threw the picture back on the table. They did not need a war with the fucking librarians! He did the unthinkable and reached for his phone.

"Regina," the voice on the other end was cold and confirmed that she knew everything.

"Not mine." He began firmly. "I have the police reports if you want them. I am also putting the word out. If this was another clan I'll have the idiot's staked out in the sun myself."

"The treaty holds." Regina said slowly then paused. "But know this Caleb. If any of your people get in the way of us going after bookburners we won't stop for a second."

"Understood." Caleb snapped back. "We are out of your way and will give you what we find."

He hung up and swung to his lieutenants.

"Anyone who so much as frowns at a librarian is dead. Make sure everyone hears that within an hour and I don't care if you have to drag them out in the fucking sun to tell them." He swore. "And I also want to know who the assholes are who are messing with the treaty. Find them and when you do bleed them dry and dump the bodies for the librarians." He pulled himself together before he ripped someones head off. "And send some fucking flowers."

Katy was chewing gum and sitting in the back of the van. Like most armies of the world front line work went to nice young people like her and the five man squad sitting with her. Today she was not exactly happy to be doing her work. Still it was work that needed to be done.

Maxwell Nash packed the last book into its case and nodded to the well muscled and armed young man who carried them to the waiting van. He himself would leave town in an hour. He had a separate mission to do first.

Witches like everyone else had a problem. For people like Maxwell or Katy that was their books. Kill the book and the reader often went into a coma. One that was sketchy at best to recover from. For vampires it was a whole host of little things like light that could turn immortality into a very nasty thirty second death. Witches too had problems and it was just a matter of knowing which witch was which to figure out what those were. Maxwell had a bet and Regina was willing to play his hunch. Katy and her squad would protect the books. Maxwell would see about the witch.

He actually looked forward to it. He was a very old man indeed and in his line of work that meant he was more powerful than any witch cared to consider. Particularly a very nice looking young black woman who had been seen outside of his home every day for the past week. So as soon as he saw Katy pull away with the van he started his normal pleasant walk home. It would have been nicer if it was summer. Summer would have been a good time for this. But cold seemed somehow fitting as well and he doubted seriously that snow was going to matter much.

Amber Marie LeClare sat in the BMW watching the old man. Her squad was one of three and reports said the hit last night had been flawless. Not that it was very impressive to her. A single strike on a single book was hardly a blow for triumph. Her own target owned an entire bookstore and once he was down they would burn the whole thing. But first he had to go down, preferably away from the store and any way to warn the others. She had trained for this for almost a year, her account was flush with the cash and she had been offered a very nice position higher in the organization if she could pull this off.

What she did not expect was that instead of walking up to his apartment where Jean and Luc were waiting to put a bullet in his gray head the guy would walk right up to her car. It was shocking enough she did not even start the ignition and pull away like she should have.

"Witches," the old man snorted in disgust and held up a crumpled piece of paper with a diagram on it. "Easy enough to track if you know how. By the way, if you like to burn things you should know that other people can play with fire as well."

The old man touched her arm and she was suddenly watching flames crawl up her arm. She screamed even as the old man turned and walked away as if nothing was happening. She kept screaming as the flames caught the car and as they enveloped the rest of her. Fortunately the gas tank finally exploded and she stopped screaming forever.

Maxwell Nash leaned against the post office box and calmly snapped pictures of the two men in brown coats who swore in French and took off at the first sign of the fire trucks that finally came to put out the burning wreck. Now to see where they went. He stopped only long enough to send Regina and Katy the pictures on his cell. Horrible thing, but useful when you were at war.

Regina stood by the door with Timmy watching for nosy nurses as Nancy worked over the body of Lynn Tavernis.

"Mom going to be all right." Timmy tried to keep a mature voice as Aunt Regina put an arm around him.

"I am not sure honey." Regina offered only the truth. She never lied to kids. "Nancy will do what she can but having your book murdered is extremely traumatic. Many of us die from it."

Timmy swallowed hard and nodded. He was not supposed to know of course. There were rules. But when Timmy's father had run off his mother had finally needed to tell someone and she had violated those rules when he was thirteen. Partially in hopes that somehow Timmy too would be chosen by a book. Unfortunately it didn't work that way. Timmy was a good kid and had accepted that even to the point where Regina had eased the rules just enough so he could visit the Grove once.

"I need to ask some questions." Regina hated having to play cop with him at a time like this but it had to be done. The real police were considering it a simple medical problem. Stroke was the word the doctors used.

An hour later Nancy was not looking hopeful and Regina had what she could get. Enough she hoped.

"I'll send someone to sit with you." She patted the boy's arm and went to make some hated phone calls.

David and Ben were huddled over the pictures Regina had sent them and barely noticed Ian over their shoulders. Things were moving rapidly and Regina wanted Ben to do half a dozen projects. Ian therefore was left to himself and was satisfying his curiosity by eavesdropping on the conversation.

David finally got up for a cup of coffee which gave Ian a reason to move up beside Ben and put his arm around him.

"Well that feels nice." Ben commented and took a break to hug the boy back. "And while it is really appreciated wouldn't you rather go out with Peter for a bit?"

"Nope." Ian looked down at the pictures and put a finger on the one of the burned book. "I can fix that you know."

Ben blinked, he had not thought Ian had been listening that closely. David stopped halfway back with the coffee cups still in his hand and a very concerned frown. From the study they could all hear Ian's book swearing.

"Ian, honey." Ben sat down and pulled the boy into his lap. "That book is nothing but ashes. You can't save it."

"Sure I can." Ian wondered why Ben thought otherwise. Book hadn't been exactly clear but it was like the fire words. What did it matter what the damage was, it was still a book and it still needed repair.

"Ian it would kill you to even try." Ben said firmly.

"No it wouldn't." Ian offered. "I just overdid it with Peter's book. Mostly because my book had not told me enough. I can do it this time no problem."

"I WHAT!" He book screamed from the other room and began an impressive round of cursing, "why you little 3;"

"Oh shut up book." Ian sounded rather fed up with his book. "Why don't you try talking to me instead of swearing at me."

Surprisingly that produced abrupt silence.

"I am duly corrected," the book said at last, if a little indignantly. "Oaf I believe he should be allowed to explain."

Ian tried hard to do so. A lot of it was in Elvish and was tough especially when trying to form the words out loud. David said he had a bad accent. Ben seemed to catch on first and after he said a few odd words to book he did as well. David took a bit longer but finally admitted that Ian at least had an idea of what was possible.

"I still believe it is very dangerous." David looked upset that they had even come this far in the conversation.

"Very very dangerous." Book offered. Ian had taken a minute to go get it and was holding it close to his chest.

"Too dangerous." Ben said with a look at Ian that said they should drop it.

"Nope." Ian said stubbornly. "I am going to heal that book. Look at the picture, there are unburned sections of the binding and you can see some of the paper is just scorched. That means it's not dead. Just in lots of pain." He paused and there were tears in his eyes. "Please? I want to help and I just got to try."

David was a solid no. One look at his face said that. Book was equally opposed but had enough respect for Ian's emotions to remain silent. Ben however looked into those pleading eyes and took a deep breath.

"You agree that we can stop you if things start going wrong?" He asked and waved David to be quiet.

"They won't go wrong." Ian stated confidently then at the look he saw he swallowed. "Yeah, you have my promise. You can stop me if it looks bad."

"Well then if you are sure then my job as your Foster is to make sure you do what you think is right." Ben said aloud and this time David gave a small nod of agreement. "David, can you call Regina and tell her we need whats left of Lynn's book. Oh, and have her son bring it. Ethically we'll need a family members permission."

Ben insisted on a break. Ian insisted on a 'nap' with cuddling.

An hour later they were both naked and Ian was happily stroking Ben's shaft. To Ben's surprise Ian had taken to mutual masturbation with relish but was way more into cuddling and kissing.

"That feels good." Ben groaned as Ian found just the right grip and position.

"Cool." Ian grinned up at him. Somehow he had decided that the only way to really stroke Ben's cock was to have a close up eye view of what was going on. "Um. You know guys do other things sometimes."

Ben suppressed a chuckle.

"Really?" He laughed and Ian blushed.

"And I take it you are interested in whether I would like to do any of them?" Ben asked while grinding his hips slightly. Ian nodded. "Probably all of them. So which one was in your little mind today?"

"Um 3;" Ian was intensely red. "Can I 3; um 3; suck your cock?"

Ben laughed.

"That would be very nice of you Ian. Certainly you can suck my cock." He watched the boy as his head slowly moved closer and closed his eyes. Now to hold back and see if you could last past the first second or two.

Regina knocked on the door late. She didn't like traveling by car any more than she did using cell phones or any other technology, but when you needed to move fast you did what you had to do and groused to the universe later. And she firmly intended to keep moving fast enough to prevent their enemies from retaking the upper hand.

All the Emissaries were closed and the books were safely back in the Grove. People were warned and she had activated all of the protocols. If a witch went anywhere near one of their people they would not like the consequences.

In some ways it would have been better for them if they had killed Lynn. That people could understand and deal with. War was war and people died. But to murder a BOOK and send its reader into a coma was a horror that drove them all to the edge. It had been their one biggest mistake and no member of the Grove was anything but fully vigilant and ready.

Even the young ones, she mused with a smile as she waited for someone to answer the door. It had been rather amusing to see the two girls at the gate. Amusing till she saw what they had stashed in their lunch bag. It seemed the Grove kids were a tad more dangerous and aggressive that she had thought. Which would be a very good thing.

"Regina." David answered the door with a smile and ushered her in out of the snow. "I think you could have waited till morning." He chided as he took her coat. "Ben and Ian are in the den arguing with Ian's book." He looked at the brown paper wrapping in her hands. "I take it you brought it?"

"Yes." She frowned with a look he was mimicking perfectly. "I take it we both dislike this idea."

"To put it mildly." David coughed. "But it is not either of our places and frankly we may be old but we have as much experience with a bookbinder as Ben, which means none of course."

"True." Regina took a deep breath and followed him to the study.

"Hello Regina." Ben looked up from the book as did Ian who was grinning. "I'd slow down for introductions and polite words but I believe Ian will burst if he doesn't get to try his idea."

Regina frowned and then seeing no other option handed the parcel to the boy.

Ian sat on the chair and opened it with shaking hands. It was really really horrible and he could feel tears in his eyes falling on the wrapping as he undid the last cord and pealed back the folds.

Four very scorched pieces of paper, the writing faded, a five inch [12½ cm] section of cord and leather that had once been the binding. A handful of ashes and a one inch piece of tiny gold cord. That was all he saw. As he had with Peter's book he opened his mind and tried to reach out.

Nothing.

He kept at it and waited.

Five minutes and still nothing.

Maybe it was dead after all.

"Nonsense." His book told him in a soft kind voice. "You didn't bring it here for a conversation. It's too far gone for that. You brought it here to heal it so where do you start?"

Ian thought about that. Start, he needed to start. But where.

"In the beginning was the word." Book told him. "Cheezy line but it's as good as any other."

"But what word?" Ian pondered. Not an English word. There was certainly nothing he could say in that language that would help. He went over his recent Elvish lessons and found nothing there either.

"About done dicking around." Book asked him with just a hint of banter.

"I can't find the word I need." He said back in frustration.

"You're a bookbinder idiot." Book told him gently. "Bookbinders are not limited by the words of the writer. You are limited only by how you want the book to look when you are done with it. If there are no words for that, well then you are going to have to make one up. And given the state of that poor thing I suggest one with a lot of emotion, hope and compassion."

Ian grinned, like the fire word! He concentrated and started putting his intentions into emotions and then spinning them into a concept. It certainly was hard work and he grimaced at times when it really hurt his head. Like when he tried to put the love into it, he didn't know the book but he had to put in the love of the people who did and all he had was his own feeling for his own book. Which made it really tough.

Ben saw the boy in pain rubbing his temples.

"Ian, you need to stop." He leaned down and put an arm around the boy.

Ian did not hear but he did feel the arm around him and he felt the love and caring. That would do, he spun it into his word and plowed on.

"He's doing fine oaf." The book whispered in Ben's ear. "Just keep that arm around him."

Ian wished he knew more, more about the book and more about its reader. It didn't feel like he had enough but he had as much as he could possibly feel and it was time to put everything into a word. It came to him in a singing rush, a mix that could never be repeated by a human voice but one with purpose and power and he was very careful to aim the whole thing at the poor broken book in his lap.

Ben. Regina and David watched the blue sparkling mass swirl in the boy's lap. What a scientest would say about it was probably best described as babbling wonder. To them it was just wonder. This was magic on a very high plane indeed. The boy was literally conjuring molecules into being in front of them. Molecules with purpose and function.

Ian had his eyes closed but he saw the whole thing and felt a rush of excitement. It was going to work, he could see that the word was right and all he had to do was keep feeding it for a bit more.

Unfortunately that bit more was fast draining him of life.

"Ian break off." Book told him firmly but he ignored it.

"Ian!" Ben tried to shake him but winced as something inside the boy fought back.

"I just need some help." Ian pleaded with his mind. "Not much just a little."

Ben nodded and reached out with his mind.

"What do I need to do?" He had no idea what the boy was doing, only that it drained the kid fast and that once committed Ian was not going to let go till it was done to his satisfaction.

Mentally Ian reached out and anchored himself. Ben felt it and started. In many ways it was like a mutual orgasm, but one that took place only in his mind. It felt wonderful and somehow Ian was no longer being drained. Neither of them were.

"Cool." Ian's mind sang and he poured himself back into the burned book.

Regina and David both started as the mass of blue sparkles suddenly turned into a white flash and then faded to reveal a very shiny yellow leather book. It was not perfect. It had a corner missing and the binding looked a bit bent, but it was clean and it was not marred by even a bit of fire.

"Hello book." Ian greeted it happily. "Welcome back."

The book suddenly glowed and then panicked.

"Lynn! You have to get me to Lynn!" It pleaded.

"I will have you driven there immediately." Regina reached down and picked it up from the boy's lap.

"That was rather impressive." Ian's book offered to anyone who wanted to hear. "I do believe you are the best reader I have ever had Ian." It paused. "And I am seriously considering an upgrade from oaf for you."

Ian laughed, hugged his book and helped escort Regina back to the door.

"Man am I hungry!" He complained half a second after the door closed.

David glanced up at the clock.

"Might as well make breakfast."

Chapter Six

Maxwell Nash was dying.

Bullets in your chest tended to do that to you. Particularly when you were not interested in seeking medical aid and not too worried about a bit of pain.

One of his assailants. The bigger of the two who happened to have gotten off the two rounds now killing him, was laying by the fireplace smoldering. The other one happened to be cowering in the corner with his eyes watching the old man on the run down couch as if his life depended on it. Which by the way it did.

"I really dislike witchcraft." The old man stated as he took out a patch of white cloth from his pocket and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. He had his cell phone in his lap and was rather proud that he had learned the function that was both recording this conversation and sending it to Regina's phone. Very efficient in case he died before pressing the send key. "Now for the record let's hit the highlights one last time. I believe your screaming ruined some of the early answers."

The man was not stupid, though his thick french accent was bad enough to raise questions. He did not want to suffer any more and the old man had showed him that he did not have to move so much as a muscle to create as much pain as he had ever felt.

"I am Paul Jean Tour." He began quickly. "I am a member of the squad charged with killing you and burning the books in your store. I have no idea why. I am not a witch. I was hired that's all."

"I still don't believe that part about not being a witch. You admit that this woman, Amber LaClare claimed to be one?" The old man once again wiped a bit of blood from his lips and Tour's eyes narrowed, he just had to keep talking.

"Yes, she did." Tour said it quickly. "She worked for a group called Ron Industries but it's really a cover for her bosses. She hired me and the others. Ten of us in all."

"And you believed she was a witch?" Nash asked patiently.

"I didn't care. She paid good." Now that sounded very honest.

Nash made his choice.

"Well Mr. Tour." He said at last. "I am going to assume you can contact these other hired guns, true?"

"Yeah." The guy almost begged.

"Excellent." Nash stated. "You are to do so and convince them to leave the country within the next forty eight hours. I really don't care how. But you yourself are to contact this Ron Industries with a message. It is a very short message and I am sure you will remember it."

The guy looked worried.

"Vendetta." Nash told him slowly. "Just the word Vendetta. They will understand. Now if you will excuse me I think it is time for you to go before my friend Katy arrives. She has a very short temper and would most likely not like my letting you go."

Tour literally ran from the room. Nash suspected he would keep running for at least a mile. He appeared to be in excellent shape.

Katy arrived a half hour later and had him wrapped in her arms with tears flowing.

"Now this is a nice way to go." Nash remarked pleasantly. "If a man can't die with his book in his arms at least a pretty girl will do."

Katy laughed but she was also crying hard.

"Now be a good girl, I know you carry what I need in your bag. Just a pinch if you would to ease the passing." Nash took her hand and accepted the small packet in the other. It was a very tiny amount of brown powder. "Very well ground." He complemented and brought it to his lips. A second later he was painlessly dead. Katy kept crying as her team swept the room, they would take Maxwell, the rest was going to burn.

Peter was on a mission. Ian had no clue what it was but it was certainly important to the younger boy and had them plowing through some very impressive snow drifts. Whatever it was had been planned out in detail and Peter had a backpack loaded with assorted items including a thermos of hot chocolate and a pile of cookies.

"So you going to tell me what we're after?" Ian asked for the forth time after the crested a rather steep ridge. There appeared to be nothing ahead but more woods and snow.

"Nope." Peter told him seriously and proceeded to slide down the hill. Ian took a deep breath and followed. He really didn't mind. It was a nice adventure and Ben had specifically told him he was spending too much time in the house and to go find an adventure.

Peter of course beat him to the bottom of the hill and stood happily waiting for his friend to brush off the snow and join him.

"Ta Da!" Peter proclaimed with his arms wide. "We made it!"

"Made it where?" Ian looked around. It looked just like all of the other woods they had tromped through. "You are so lame." Peter rolled his eyes. "I didn't think Glenn hit you that hard in practice. I thought bookbinders were smart."

Ian accepted his mockery with a grin. Peter was certainly excited about something and he had learned quickly that in the Grove, just because you didn't see it, didn't mean it wasn't there. Well Book had taught him a solution for that. He closed his eyes and concentrated. When he opened them he almost jumped back in panic. Which of course set Peter to laughing.

A very large bolder sat six feet [1.8 m] in front of him and atop it was perched a very fat, very tiny woman in what appeared to be a fox fur coat. Ian looked closer and saw that she also had rather toadlike green skin, red eyes and an expression that said she was not at all happy to see them.

"Go away," she growled in a low tone that accentuated the toad in Ian's mind.

"Hi, Natty." Peter said cheerfully. "this is Ian, he's a bookbinder."

The little hag eyed Ian up and down gave a rather loud hurumph and pulled her furs up closer to her small ears.

"Go away." She repeated.

Peter winked at Ian and reached into his pack. A second later he came out with a can of tuna.

"Brought you something Natty." He said and tossed it to her.

Ian was shacked at how fast a thin arm snagged the can from the air and how much faster it went under those furs.

"What do you want?" She growled at Peter grudgingly.

"I made Ian a staff from the Nae Oak." Peter told her and took a cross legged seat in the snow in front of her bolder. Ian did the same of course and hoped they wouldn't be sitting long enough for the snow to melt and soak his jeans.

"I heard." Natty replied. "Good crafting. So?"

"My book says it is good crafting too." Peter bit his lip. "But book also said that it would be a real Elf staff unless I worked in a bit of Baffin Oil."

Natty snorted.

"And you want to trade me for Baffin Oil?" She leaned forward from her bolder and looked suddenly greedy.

"Oh, no, Natty." Peter did not seem at all effected by her look. "It's a deed gift. I can't buy things for a deed gift. You have to give it to us."

"Aarrrggh" She moaned. "Damned deed doers." She glared at Ian. "You just had to didn't you."

"All we need is a teaspoon or two." Peter told her and pulled a small vial from his pack.

"Well too bad." The little troll snapped at him. "You want to pull the rules on me, fine, but you follow them too. I have a week to check on this deed. You come back then and I'll decide how much Baffin Oil it is worth."

"Deal." Peter jumped up and reached into his pack for another can of tuna. "Thanks Natty."

"Go away." She grumbled but the tuna once again disappeared quickly in her robes.

"Baffin Oil?" Ian looked over his shoulder and was amazed he could no longer see Natty or her bolder as they climbed back up the ridge. "What's that?"

"Oil from Baffin." Peter said helpfully. "It makes the wood last and helps it keep the sheen. Plus Vamps really hate it. Book says if you wack a vamp with a staff with Baffin Oil in it they go poof like you tossed them in sunlight. It's supposed to also do really bad things to Ogre's but no one has seen an Ogre in over a hundred years."

Ian shook his head and wondered if he would ever get used to the Grove. Well at least he had had the adventure Ben had told him to have.

"Bless me father for I have sinned." The voice had a thick french accent and was more than a bit nervous. He had less than five hours to clear security and make his plane.

"You have failed hideously my son," the priest on the other side of the confessional sounded rather bitter about it.

"Father, the man Nash burned Amber like she was a match. What he did with Luc 3;"

"Silence my son," the priest broke in. "They are stronger than we expected. Steps will be taken. At least one of those abominations was destroyed and you forced them out of the city. The Church will accept that as victory enough this day. Your account will be paid in full."

"Thank you father," the mercenary said in relief. One hundred thousand US dollars would do much to help him forget this rotten assignment.

"Not at all my son." The Priest stood up. "The Church must live by its promises, Failure was not your fault but Gods design. We will simply have to persevere. Now if you will excuse me I believe you need to catch your plane back to Marseille."

Father John watched the man hurry out of the Church and then turned to the rather well built young priest who had been standing by the side of the confessional the whole time.

"We are really paying him?" The young man eased his hand out of his cassock after putting the Mauser back on safety.

"Of course William." Father John looked pleased. "It never would do for us to go back on our word. I will make sure the Ranerii take care of those loose ends though. And while I am at it I think I will make a call to the Cardinal. Using those Ron witches was a serious mistake. He may have faith in their satanic powers but I think they are of small use to us in this Work. We will have to think of some other plan."

Caleb had missed most of them. Of course he had not had much time either. By the time he had picked up on these French Ron they were already on the run. Which was rather a good thing. Perhaps now the fucking librarians would let things get back to normal. He looked down at the table where his people had staked out tonight's feast. So nice to have something like the TSA where you could pull a foreigner out of line for questioning, disappear him into the back of a van and not even the cop watching you do it would blink.

"The last couple of days have really pissed me off." He told his lieutenants. "I want you to keep an eye out for any of these fuckers who try to get anywhere near us again. I rip the heart out of anyone who I catch who let's one get away. Clear?"

They nodded and agreed as expected. It was not in their makeup to question their maker after all.

"Now," Caleb looked down at the table where the well muscled naked young man struggled in his bonds. "We did manage to catch one and I am now going to vent my well deserved anger at these Ron witches. I believe this is called fine French dining."

Seconds later the last member to the Ron raiding party. The one who had had the bad fortune to be booked on a later flight due to overbooking, started screaming. Caleb liked to savor a meal and it would go on for a while.

"That was fun." Ben looked down at the boy who was licking the last of his cum off his lips with a grin and was quickly snuggled up on his chest. "To what did I owe that very nice morning wake up?"

"You came home too late to have any fun last night." Ian explained simply "So I figured we better start the day with some fun so we don't miss any later."

"Logical." Ben chuckled and pulled the boy closer to his chest. "And I was out late. In fact I would recommend we sleep in but David will have breakfast on and it snowed pretty bad last night."

"Shoveling." Ian sighed then looked up. "So any news? Are we still running around on red alert today? And did that woman like the way I fixed her book?"

Ben laughed.

"Well in order of importance, Lynn loves having her book back and her son has pledged his undying gratitude. She did however mention that the book stutters a bit now." Ian sighed heavily and Ben tickled him. "Hey, she is awake and the book is alive. Close enough little bookbinder."

Ian rolled away from the tickling and then dived back into cuddling position.

"As for the red alert, I would say that is over as well." Ben looked down. "In fact I was thinking that in honor of your heroic efforts you and I would drive down to see Lynn. She and her son would very much like to treat you to dinner and a movie to say thank you."

"Really!?" Ian looked thrilled. "I mean I thought 3;"

"The Grove is not a monastery." Ben chided. "We know perfectly well that young boys do not survive well unless nourished with occasional junk food and distractions. You'll find that about once a month there is some kind of an outing to the city for you kids. This time it is you an me."

Ian frowned.

"Can I bring Peter?" He asked.

"Not this time." Ben stroked his hair. "This time is for Lynn and Timmy, and later for the two of us. And no Book isn't allowed either."

Ian pouted. Which was expected. The first few times that any Grove child was told they would be separated from their book for a whole day or two always produced that reaction.

The drive out of the mountains had been long and boring but Ian had quickly forgotten that in the sudden rush of excitement. French fries were consumed at a rate that had Ben contemplating investment in a few fast food chains. A gallon or two of soda followed as well as an impressively large container of popcorn that Timmy had insisted on buying his new best friend.

Ian watched the two boys huddled over a video game giggling and felt relief that the older boy and the younger had hit it off so well. Lynn still looked a bit shakey and had her book in her backpack the whole time.

"I think we can safely say they are now friends." Lynn offered as she sipped a chocolate shake.

"Safe to say." Ben grinned. He had known Lynn from the time they had spent together at the Grove and though he didn't consider her a close friend he did consider her an old friend. "Are you and Timmy safe now?"

Lynn sighed.

"I am hoping so." She stated with a tone of resignation that said she would not feel safe for a while. "Regina has one of Katy's squad, Karen staying with us. A very sweet college girl but so far it doesn't do much other than convince me Timmy is probably gay. He seems to have no interest in her."

Ben laughed. It wasn't like Lynn had a problem with gay.

"Ben." Ian came running up with his arm around Timmy. "We need to go pee."

"I doubt there is an ogre in the theater bathroom." Ben waved them off and went back to his conversation. "Perhaps you should consider a vacation at the Grove. There are still six vacancies or I am sure Regina would put you up."

"Over spring break." Lynn told him and sounded confident. "It would do Timmy good but he is in school now and really needs to buckle down. It's not like he has a book you know."

Ben nodded. School was in his opinion one of the evils of the outside world. Books taught you much better, faster and thoroughly, plus they had zero tolerance for lazy, unlike some public school teachers he had met. Poor kid.

"Well come when you want." He told her, "and given the budding brotherhood you can tell Timmy he can bunk with Ian any time he wants."

Lynn smiled but then her happy grin suddenly froze. It happened almost the same instant that Ben's did. Lynn, because she was so close to her book that she could feel its reactions, Ben because he had the training and knew exactly what he was feeling.

"Vamp." Lynn said through clenched teeth.

"Nothing to worry about." Ben stood up. "I'll get the boys."

Chances were excellent that that was exactly the truth. It was a crowded place and except for Timmy they were all in the Registry. No vamp in his right mind would try something here. Of course that didn't mean the thing wasn't just out hunting. They did do that after all.

Ian stood by the toilet peeing and grinning. He was having a great time and Tim was way cool. They had already agreed they were best friends and had spent the last hour cramming down enough junk food and trading jokes about the movie to prove it. Tim had even flashed his dick at him when they went to the urinals, which had them both laughing.

Then suddenly he wasn't laughing.

He was cold, like something really really bad had opened the window and sucked out all the heat. He started to shiver and forgot he was peeing.

Whatever it was had just come in the door and he forced himself to look out of the corner of his eye. A big guy in a black leather jacket who had a long beard and really dark eyes. The guy was looking at him then at Timmy, then he walked into the far stall.

"Ian." Timmy was done and had zipped up and was suddenly worried about his new friend who was standing there with his dick out looking scared to death. "Dude?"

Ian could hear him. Hear his thoughts.

It wasn't like book. Book was cool. This was like listening to a really bad thing and it was about hunger and hurting and 3; Ian's eyes widened as he realized that the thing was following a small girl and was waiting till she left, then it was going to 3;

"Ian?" Tim was worried and shook his friend.

Ian came out of it and quickly put his junk away. He was still shaking though. He wanted Ben, wanted him bad. But he couldn't let that bad guy do what he was planning. His mind snapped into gear.

"BURN!" He shouted in Elvish at the far stall and then pushed Timmy hard. "Run!"

The vamp came out of the stall with fangs out and furious. Timmy's mouth went open wide but he reacted to Ian's shout and he ran for the door. They got there just as Ben came in.

The vamp was smoldering and mad. At this point he didn't care if the runt was on the Registry or not, he was going to die for this.

Ben pushed Tim behind him out the door and reached for Ian.

Ian however was still in that cesspit of a mind and he had failed. So he spun out of Ben's reach and stood his ground. This time he did not shout the word in haste he took his time and got it right, and this time he put some anger in it instead of just fear.

Ben blinked. He had no idea what happened. Fire he knew about, he himself had torched more than a few vamps. What Ian did was beyond that. The fire was hot and focused and the vamp went from smoldering to full flame to ashes on the floor in less than ten seconds. Just enough time to set off the fire system.

"Come on." Ben pulled Ian out of the room just as the manager raced in to find out what had set of the sprinklers.

"Problems?" Lynn asked as she walked up with her bag and a rather forced smile.

"Ian torched a vamp." Timmy said in awe.

"Then I guess we should leave." Lynn and Ben ushered them quickly out the door. Ian of course was famished and wanted to know about banana splits.

They dropped Lynn and Timmy off and Ben headed the car out of town.

"We going back?" Ian asked

"In the morning." Ben told him. "I have a friend I thought we would spend the night with. It's about an hour drive. Which gives us plenty of time to have a little chat about why you can't walk around flaming every vamp you meet."

"He was going to kill a little girl." Ian said firmly. "I'm glad I torched him!"

"Then I am glad you did too. But how did you know that?" Ben asked and eased the car into the slow lane to make sure they had time for this.

Ian told him and Ben was silent for a bit.

"I have not heard of anyone able to do that." He admitted at last. "And if you can shut it off I really would like you to try. Vamp minds are ugly Ian and I don't want you exposed to them."

"You're telling me!"Ian grunted. "But I didn't have a choice Ben, and I knew what he was going to do."

"OK." Ben offered. "We agree you did the right thing this time. I'll even tell you that I am very impressed with your power. I am going to be a very happy foster knowing that no vamp will ever touch you without ending up as a smudge on the floor. But there are rules Ian and you need to know them."

Ian looked interested and Ben nodded.

"First of all that vamp scum violated one. No vamp hunts kids." Ben stated firmly then paused. "Correction, they are allowed to hunt kids like you but only if you are not protected by the Grove. That one hunting a little girl made him an outlaw. His own kind would kill him if they caught him doing it."

"Really?" Ian looked skeptical.

"Really." Ben affirmed. "People like us have been at war with the vamps for thousands of years Ian. And you better believe we win a lot more than we lose. Unfortunately there are a lot more of them than us, so over the years places like the Grove had learned to make treaties with local vampire clans rather than just slaughter each other. For the most part it works. The vamps hunt criminals and other low lives and keep their fangs off us. We in turn don't go after them whenever we see them."

"It's not a pretty truce Ian. They hate us and we hate them. But believe it or not it is very much needed. As you just saw with the book burners we have much worse enemies out there. So please. When you see the next vamp, and you WILL see them, keep out of their minds and look to me." He paused. "On the other hand if one threatens you in any way and I am not around I want you to do exactly what you did tonight. Turn him into ashes to get washed down the drain."

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