I hopped off the chair and found Wren looking at pattern books to set up looms. She was very into weaving when she wasn't out running courier errands for her father. I rubbed up against her leg and purred.

"The two of you found a book," she stated as a fact. She knew both of us too well. "Now you want to show it to me because I control the money." I just purred a little more and rubbed the side of my snout against her knee.

"Alright, book addict who can't even turn her own pages, lead me to this literary wonder."

When we got to where Cat was sitting, I hopped back on the chair. Wren looked over Cat's shoulder.

"You can read that? Those are ancient letters. I don't know what that one is," she pointed at the one that looked like a cursive lower-case D that was crossed at the top.

* That is called a thorn, and it is an unvoiced TH sound. *

"Do you know all these letters, Cat?" she sat down.

"Some of them," he looked up from what he was reading. "Fuzzy knew the ones I had never seen before."

"That is a very large book, Cat. There's no way we can take it with us."

"I was afraid you would say that," he sighed. "I have learned more about wyverns in the few minutes I've sat here. There's so much here. Look at this, Wren. Feeding habits of three varieties of wyverns, when they hunt, mating customs, preferred habitat, even what their poop looks like."

"Cat, it's not practical."

"Listen to this, Wren: ' They may come south when it is winter and find food by finding animals that move. If one is still, the snow wyvern and all other wyverns too will not see you...'"

"What? Seriously?"

"So when the wyvern attacked Owl," Cat enthused, "it must have found him because he was skiing. If he had hidden and then not moved, the wyvern might not have continued the attack."

"What else does it say?"

"Wyverns are like trolls: they are magical creatures that can talk to other magical creatures with mind talk. but that non-magical creatures like goblins and elves can't hear or talk to them."

"Then, that means wyverns are intelligent, and Fuzzy here can talk to them," Wren was thoughtful.

Gragoy wandered over, curious to see what book we had found. "Oh, that's a copy of Achflakalstrebr's Compendium. How exciting! It's hard to find. It must be a new acquisition because if it had been here last week, I would have bought it. It's a real treasure. Is that the original or the reprint?"

"It's the reprint. If it's that rare, that makes me want to buy it even more," Cat caressed the paper.

"If it's the reprint, it's a mere 400 years old," Gragoy explained. "The original edition, which doesn't have the appendix on subterranean creatures, was written more than 600 years ago. No one knows who added the appendix, but it is accurate. The reprint is the preferred version because of the appendix."

Cloud Eye meandered up and looked over Cat's shoulder, "whoa!" He started reading. "What's the weird-looking P?"

"It's called a wynn," Cat remarked as if he had always known what that letter was. "It's an early form of W."

Cloud Eye read a few more lines, "you know, we could use this book."

"Not you too!" Wren rolled her eyes. "How can we travel with that huge thing?"

"Easy," Cloud Eye looked at Wren as if she was being dense, "we buy a packhorse or mule. It could carry our packs too. and we could travel faster and farther, and be less weary at the end of the day."

Wren groaned. "And how do we keep this valuable book safe on the road, in the rain and the snow, and when fording rivers and climbing mountain passes?"

"Oh." Cloud Eye finally ran into Wren's brick wall of questioning.

"Easy," Cat said. "Fuzzy or I would just levitate it over river fords. And we can buy or make a waterproof box for it."

"And just how much is this tome?" Wren grimaced.

"The price slip said 10 gold, but don't fret, Wren. I'll cover it," Cat pulled a small drawstring pouch out from around his neck. "I have here two Nordwegian gold sovereigns, so I should get two gold back as change. We can use the change to pay for a carrying box to keep it safe and dry."

We found someone experienced at making waterproof cases in the leatherworker part of the souk, She had a box that fit the book that came with a buckled oil cloth wrap to keep it dry in the rain. Cat was wearing out by then so Gragoy and I took him back to the townhouse. Gragoy carried the box and book back for us. I took Cat on my back. The three elves wanted to shop a little more.

The trip back up to the third ring took longer than it should have. Goblin children heading home from school kept asking to pet me. Even if it is an imposition, I am always patient and kind to children. It is fun to mind talk to them because they don't expect it.

Gragoy set the book up on the dining room table and the three of us indulged ourselves in reading it. Magrat in her ceremonial robes returned home and frowned at us.

"Gragoy, dearest," she used that overly-sweet tone of voice that every wife uses on an erring husband, the one that arrives just before the metaphorical dagger in the metaphorical stomach. "I see you found a book and friends to read it with you," her smile was dripping vitriol. "Did you forget about dinner?"

The look of panic was all the answer she needed. "I see," she shook her head in frustration. "Why don't you pick up some take-out at the yamcakes place and leave out the grubs and rat tails. Humans don't eat those. And pick up some raw meat for Fuzzy."

He hung his head, "sorry dear, I got distracted."

"So which book is it this time?" she heaved a great sigh.

"Achflakalstrebr's Compendium," he grinned.

"You found a copy?"

"With an intact appendix," the grin got bigger.

"And how much did that cost us?"

"Not mine," he pointed at Cat. "Cat Rider bought it."