Jemma did as she was told. ‘On Life and Death,’ she read. ‘Essays.’
‘That’ll do nicely,’ said Raphael. He took two steps forward. ‘Now walk towards me. Oh, and hold the book out.’
Jemma did as she was told, feeling exceptionally silly. ‘I really don’t understand what this is—’
She stopped, not of her own volition. She felt as if she had walked into an invisible wall.
‘That’s it,’ said Raphael. ‘Have another go.’
Jemma’s foot moved forward, then stopped. She tried to hold the book out, but her arm just wouldn’t stretch.
‘As you can see, we have a slight problem,’ said Raphael. ‘However, it is easily solved. I want you to tell the book that you are an Assistant Keeper.’
Jemma looked at the book, then at Raphael, and shrugged. ‘I’m an assistant keeper,’ she mumbled.
‘Not like that,’ said Raphael. ‘As if you believe it. Come on, stand tall.’
Jemma stared at him. ‘Is this necessary?’
‘Oh, absolutely,’ said Raphael. ‘Come on, have a try.’
Jemma took a deep breath. ‘I am an Assistant Keeper,’ she said, louder.
The book vibrated in her hand.
‘That’s better,’ said Raphael. ‘Once more. Imagine you want Maddy to hear you.’
That did it. Jemma filled her lungs and shouted ‘I am an Assistant Keeper!’
‘There,’ said Raphael. ‘Try moving now.’
Jemma took a step forward, then another, until she was perhaps two feet away from Raphael. ‘That will do,’ he said.
‘It works,’ said Jemma. ‘It really works.’ She gazed at the book in her hand, which resonated with a gentle hum. Then she peered closer. ‘Is it glowing?’
‘It is,’ said Raphael. ‘Probably best that you take a step back. No point in wasting the power. Now you can see why I keep books like these well apart.’
‘So do you actually know where all the important books are in the stockroom?’ asked Jemma. This was a level of organisation she would never have suspected of Raphael.
‘Not as such,’ Raphael replied. ‘I tend to assume that this room, given the enchantments it has, will keep things apart that need to be kept apart.’
‘But how does that work in – in my shop?’ asked Jemma. ‘It isn’t magical.’
‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Raphael. ‘It may not be as magical as this shop, but few places are.’
‘But if it were,’ said Jemma, ‘then why would it need the thermostat, and the special boxes, and the cataloguing system?’
‘Maybe it does need some of those things,’ said Raphael. ‘Or maybe that’s just smoke and mirrors to keep Maddy happy. Who knows?’ He smiled. ‘What you could do is look for the more – interesting – resources, and see if you can bring them together. If you can do that without telling the books that you’re an Assistant Keeper, then yes, it probably is a normal shop.’ He sighed. ‘I do hope for your sake that it isn’t, Jemma. That would be remarkably dull.’
‘So should I assume that everything is stored correctly?’ said Jemma.
‘Have there been any fires?’ asked Raphael.
‘Of course not,’ said Jemma. ‘What do you take me for?’
‘Floods? Plagues of insects? Things or people disappearing?’
Jemma shook her head.
‘In that case,’ said Raphael, ‘you’re probably fine. But maybe check, to be on the safe side.’
‘How did you learn all this?’ asked Jemma.
‘I spent a lot of time in my uncle’s bookshop when I was a boy,’ said Raphael. ‘He taught me to read. I don’t remember him telling me anything, as such, but I sort of absorbed it.’
‘Is he still alive?’ asked Jemma, wide-eyed.
‘Good heavens, no,’ said Raphael. ‘Unfortunately the plague got him.’
‘The – the Great Plague?’ asked Jemma.
‘That’s the one,’ said Raphael. ‘And then the fire finished off the bookshop. Not a great decade, I think you’ll agree.’
‘No,’ said Jemma, faintly. ‘I don’t suppose it was.’ She felt her mind reaching for something to grasp hold of, something that made sense. ‘So if there is an incident,’ she said, ‘what should I do?’
‘If books are too close together,’ said Raphael, ‘the best thing to do is to move them apart, taking care that in doing so you don’t move them towards another book they might react with.’
‘OK,’ said Jemma. ‘Move books apart, keeping clear of other books.’
‘If a book is damaged, then in the first instance bring it to me for inspection,’ said Raphael. ‘Obviously, in this shop we have some stock which is in, shall we say, not the best condition. But if it’s a standard volume, carefully applied sticky tape will probably do the trick.’
‘And if it isn’t?’ Jemma imagined torn parchment, accidentally dogeared pages, cracked spines. Now she understood the reason for all that glass.
‘Bring it to me,’ said Raphael, ‘and we shall decide what is best to do given the age, value, and importance of the item.’ He paused, considering. ‘Your shop’s stock is different from mine. You have far fewer books, but on average they are more valuable.’ He grinned. ‘I have to admit I was rather impressed when he brought out Archimedes’ Palimpsest. I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘But wouldn’t he have had to clear that with you first?’ asked Jemma. ‘You said in the job description—’
‘Ah, but when it’s for a challenge,’ said Raphael, ‘all bets are off. Anything goes, pretty much.’ He frowned. ‘I should probably have a chat with its previous owners, and find out what he gave them in exchange.’
Folio jumped down from his chair and wound himself round Jemma’s legs. Jemma bent to stroke him, then remembered the book in her hand. ‘Is it all right to—’ She mimed stroking.
‘Oh yes, of course,’ said Raphael. ‘Folio is very much attuned to the books. He won’t damage them.’
‘Good,’ said Jemma, crouching and giving him a proper fuss. ‘With everything else going on, I need to be able to stroke my favourite cat.’ Folio let out an extremely loud purr.
‘Mmm,’ said Raphael. ‘What else is going on?’
Drat, thought Jemma. ‘I meant with Luke dating,’ she said, ‘and Carl’s play.’
‘And…?’ Raphael’s blue eyes were sympathetic, but Jemma felt them boring into her.
She sighed. ‘I’m having a hard time with Maddy,’ she said. ‘She’s resistant to change. Of any kind. Even adding fiction to the stock. And the customers share her views.’
‘That must be frustrating,’ said Raphael.
‘Just slightly,’ said Jemma. She looked around the stockroom and sighed again. ‘What was the shop like when you took it on?’
‘Sparse,’ said Raphael. ‘Specialist. A collector’s shop.’
‘So you’ve been through this too!’ cried Jemma. ‘What did you do?’