Chapter 62 · Ink

"So this is the library, it's the biggest room here I think apart from maybe the basement but there nothing down there," I said walking into the circular room that stood wall to wall with books. Some shelved while overs stood in plies much taller than could be considered safe.

We had spent a while in my room until we got bored. Turns out I wasn't a great host and I lack anything to entertain then so I decided to show them around the house.

Most of the rooms stood empty however some rooms were nice like the library. Its was in the centre of the house with four oak doors leading out. The walls were hidden behind the rick stain wood bookcase perfectly formfitting to fit snuggly not leaving even the smallest space be wasted. Each shelf was filled with books, many of them old and unopened in a long time shown by the layers of dust and cobwebs on the higher shelves a few feet above us.

The roof itself was were the main source of light from the stained glass skylight letting the last few beams of daylight from outside. The glass itself was a pale sky blue with a golden frame. The thick black lead lines cutting it into fourths reaching toward the centre only to be stopped and twisted around the centre connected to a black chain which snaked its way to a small unused chandelier.

"What a mess, are theses books just left like this?" Wick muttered as if he could hardly believe it.

"Well most of them are very old and in some language that I can't read and my uncle never comes in here so there's no point putting them away," I replied with a shrug. I mean it's not like they were used so what was the point of sorting them?

"No point. Please never say that again to me," Wick whispered as he stumbled also as if he drunk.

"Why books are books there hardly important," I muttered confusion clearly visible to all.

"Oh boy were we go," Zoe's commented behind my back.

Wick approached one of the stacks of books causing a moth to flutter into the light as he spoke his normally squeaky voice now weirdly calm "Your right books are just books but its what's inside that matters. Each word, each letter, part of a person, maybe just a drop but each one a moment that will never be forgotten by the ink that carves its message into the paper. So sure you could just let it rot but I will never let weakness take away what can never be made again. Not ever."

He stood there breathing slowly. Slowly he started moving the books of the stack without saying anything else.

The little moth dipped down between the beams of light from the window above coming to land Wick's tweed jacket.

"Ok then guess we will leave ya too it then Wick," Zoe seemed to groan as I felt her pull me back few the door we had just come from the back into the hallway.

I let her pull me back.

"What's with him?" I asked Zoe

"Oh he gets like that with book's, I think it has something to do with an old crush he had," Zoe explained, "so anything else to do here?"

"I mean we could go to the woods but we wouldn't have much time with the sun setting," I said with my hand pointing towards windows slowing the outside which was quickly getting darker with each passing moment.

"Don't tell me you're scared of the dark," Zoe asked with a giggle.

"No," I quickly denied, "my uncle says I could get a cold or get lost."

"Well you just have to stick close to me then," she said with a smile.