The Mage’s pages was a small and crammed bookstore. It had twelve book shelves, its origination yet to be ruined by rummaging customers, all of which seemed to hold something that interested Tara. Aside from the books that were integral to the business, part of the store had been giving over to a large table, around which a small group of teenage boys was arguing about something or other, and a wall full of small boxes that held tin miniatures of varying plumage.

The entire decor had been given to wood, its scent mixing with that of incense and the industrial cleaning supplies that still had the creaking floor spotless. It gave the store a vaguely homely impression Tara, used to the only bookstore she frequented having a small, if not tiny, dedicated section to fantasy books, was impressed. She didn’t know where to begin and as such simply started at the closest.

She delighted in sifting through the books, until she got lost and sat down in the middle of the store to read.

“Can I ring that up for you?” a woman asked, “…This isn’t a library.”

Tara looked up when she heard the voice. It sounded familiar and her eyes widened when she looked in the face of Mrs Brigman.

“Oh!” she said.

“Oh indeed,” Mrs Brigman replied dryly.

“You work here?” Tara asked, then added, “Ma’am?.”

“I’d hope so,” Mrs Brigman smiled, “It’s my store after all. Are you going to buy that?”

Tara nodded a bit sheepish.

The woman took the book from her, “I’ll take this to the register. Feel free to yell if you need anything else.”

Tara nodded again, hurriedly returning to browsing so the woman wouldn’t have to see how red she had turned.

She was going over something on the bottom shelf when she suddenly felt motion next to her, followed by a whisper in her ears.

“Thought you had plans?”

Tara stumbled, falling on her butt, then grinned at Chrissy, “These were my plans,.”

“...You got all dressed up to go to a bookstore?”

Tara nodded.

“Dork.”

Tara frowned at the accusation. Chrissy had clearly put a lot of care in her appearance as well, including makeup and a decent amount of hairspray, but Tara couldn’t judge if that was for the store or just the girl’s normal day to day look.”

“Little bit,” she agreed.

“Me too,” Chrissy laughed, poking Tara in the rib, “Hey, when’s your mom picking you up?”

“Two-ish, from the hospital.”

“Oh cool, we have a little time!”

Tara wasn’t sure when she suddenly became a we but waited for the girl to continue.

“Wait...hospital?”

“Mom’s a nurse.”

Chrissy filed this away somewhere, then suddenly her eyes sparkled, “Hey, if you’re here that long, want to learn about D&D?”

“Dee and Dee,” Tara asked, a hint of concern falling into her word, “Is that some sort of drug?”

“It’s a game, dork. Dungeons and Dragons!”

“Oh,” Tara said, recalling the priest, “The one they’re…?”

She pointed to the door.

“Oh yeah, the picketers. Mom says they’ll give up in a few days, but it’s ruining the grand opening.”

Tara had to agree, there was little grand about the store’s opening.

The girls remained silent for a while, Tara flicking through the book she’d picked up. In the end she couldn’t resist. The word dragons was right there after all.

“What kind of game?”

“Oh. It’s really cool. You can make your own character and then go on an adventure.”

Tara nodded blankly.

“Nobody’s signed up for my group yet,” Chrissy smiled, “So I have all the time to to explain.”

“Your group?”

“I’m the Dungeon Master!”

“The what?” Tara asked, vaguely remembering a magazine of one of her brothers. It had been too much for her young sensibilities and she’d quickly put it back.

“Not that kind,” Chrissy said as if she could read her mind, “It’s like uhh. The game’s referee!”

“Like a poker dealer?”

“Yes, but I deal in adventure! What time is it?”

Tara checked her watch, “Almost twelve.”

“Wanna go get something to eat? I’ll explain the game.”

Tara, who’d rather have the extra time to browse books shrugged. She didn’t know when her mother would take her to the city again. Then again, if this was Mrs Brigman’s store… Humoring Chrissy might just be her ticket to regular visits.

“Sure, why not.”

“Mom!” Chrissy called over her shoulder, “We’re going out for a bit.”

“We who?”

“Me and Tara.”

“Tara and I,” Mrs Brigman corrected. Tara nodded along, “Tara, do you still want that book?”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll come back later!”

Mrs Brigman nodded, then returned to whatever work had occupied her in the almost empty store, stopping only to yell after her daughter, “Bring me back a sandwich!”

Chrissy grinned at Tara as she grabbed her leather jacket, which confused Tara as it was a beautiful summer’s day, let her sunglasses slide out from her hair and took point.

“And no plants!” was the last thing Mrs Brigman yelled after them.