Librarian and the Beast: A Mintar Romance

by S. J. Sanders

  The woman stared at her as if she lost her mind, but a firm look settled over Idwina’s face and she nodded in agreement. “What can I do to help?”

  “Cover for me. If anyone asks, tell them I was feeling unwell with everything going on and went home to rest.”

  “Very well. Don’t do anything reckless, Benita.”

  Beni tossed the librarian a reassuring smile. “Don’t see it as reckless. Consider it an adventure.”

  Idwina hmphed. “That is exactly what I was afraid of.”

  The response from the other librarian wasn’t surprising, but that didn’t deter Beni. If she let things that people said bother her, she would never get half of anything done. “Purple and orange don’t go together!” She liked the combination very much, thank you! “Decent ladies don’t go there!” Said who? “Reading will rot your brain!” Consider her brain rotten to the core. Life was so much more satisfying when one didn’t listen to such naysayers.

  This, however, was an issue of even greater importance. To not act would be downright criminal. Accessory to book murder, in fact. She didn’t waste even a moment to hasten on her way.

  Idwina didn’t have to help, in any case. She knew exactly where she needed to look for aid. Clutching her light summer coat around her to protect her clothes from the filth on the street, it took Beni less than ten minutes to arrive at the home of her childhood friend, Tabby. Tapping on the door, Beni shifted her weight from foot to foot anxiously until the door opened. Tabby stared at her over her bifocals in surprise.

  “Beni? What in the world are you doing here at this time of day? I would have expected you to be at the library.”

  Beni sighed. “We both know that I’m no longer needed there. There’s a greater purpose for me that I desperately need your help with!”

  Tabby frowned and clutched the book in her arms tighter against her chest. “Not another jaunt to sneak into Mister Ballow’s wine cellar, is it? I could barely see straight last time, Beni. I’ve sworn off wine ever since.”

  “Nothing like that. This is for a truly just and noble cause!” Beni declared, her entire body nearly trembling. “We have a book murderer in our town!”

  Her friend’s lips pulled down. “A book murderer?” she asked skeptically.

  That was the second person now to say it. Beni scowled and folded her arms over her chest.

  “I swear it, Tabby. The new transcriber is looking to have every beloved tale of adventure, romance, and suspense disposed of. I heard it with my own ears. I mustn’t let such a terrible thing come to pass. I need your help.”

  “I don’t know, Beni.” Tabby sighed. “It doesn’t seem likely that such a thing could happen, but, then again, you aren’t known for fibbing either.”

  Beni nodded earnestly.

  “Very well. This does seem to be an irregular circumstance. As such, it would call for desperate measures. What is the plan?” her friend asked.

  “Tonight, we’ll raid the library and liberate every volume from the jaws of certain death,” Beni said. “We can use your father’s cart and horse. He won’t need to haul anything to the market for a couple days yet. We will load every one up and take them out of town and… well, hide them.”

  “You mean steal.” The disapproval wasn’t hard to miss.

  “Not steal. Liberate,” Beni clarified. “We can tell certain trusted individuals about the books and see to it that everyone is able to loan them out.”

  “You do realize you’re talking about a lot of books,” her friend pointed out. Tabby could always be counted on to point out flaws in her plans. “I doubt that they would all fit in the cart. We might be able to get away with one haul without anyone noticing our activities… But to get all the fiction in the library would take several trips.”

  Beni chewed her bottom lip. “Well, he did seem to be particularly against romances. What if, for now, we rescue those, at very least, and see how the other books fare? I think that the chancellor was against harming some of the more ancient classics so we may do considerable good just removing those. We can always stage a second removal if the risk extends to other books.”

  Tabby sighed. “I’m not going to talk you out of this, am I?”

  Beni gasped. “We owe it to the bygone authors and to the other ladies out there to preserve them. We can’t allow Mr. Woodiker the opportunity to destroy even one of the books!”

  “And where are we going to hide them?”

  “There is an abandoned farm on the other side of the river. I caught a glimpse of it once as a child when my family went to visit our cousins. It would be the perfect hiding place. No one ever goes across the river.”

  “Probably because that’s near suicidal,” her friend said. “Haven’t you heard the rumors of the blood plains?”

  Beni let out a derisive snort. “Attention seeking boys is what it is. I mean, really, Tabby—man-beasts roaming in herds? Ragoru are difficult enough to believe in, but at least we have proof of their existence. I’m not of a mind to believe there’s some half-man quadruped out there terrorizing the plains. It doesn’t even make sense! How would they reproduce or care for their young? No, it’s just the men trying to scare us all into staying put… and sadly enough, it works. However, we’re educated women, too smart to fall for such nonsense. But this time it will work in our favor, not against us. No one would believe a woman would venture across the river to borrow and return books.”

  Tabby’s lips quirked, and Beni knew she’d won her argument. “I take it you want to do this tonight?”

  “Tonight,” Beni agreed with a sharp nod of her head. “I will arrange some black coats and hoods. I believe I still have what Mama and I wore at Daddy’s funeral.”

  “Okay. Count me in,” Tabby said with a smile.

  “You won’t regret this! The women of the Citadel shall laud us as heroes… or at very least, we will hold such knowledge in our hearts,” Beni gushed.

  Despite her smile, Tabby still looked somewhat doubtful as she shut the door, but it didn’t dampen Beni’s spirits as she hurried down the street. Her mind was already focused on the next step. It wouldn’t take her long to dig out the supplies they needed. As soon as night fell, she would meet Tabby. Beni still had her key to the library, and they would have the cart and the black mare that belonged to Tabby’s father. It was unlikely anyone would even notice them if they pulled into the dark alleyway behind the building. Everything was falling into place. Tabby had no reason to worry; this was going to be a cakewalk.

  Not that Beni had ever won a cakewalk, but that was beside the point. There was no way anything could possibly go wrong!

  Chapter 3

  Faltz studied the sky, nostrils flaring. A storm was coming. He could smell rain on the air. This was not a good time. The talons of his forepaws scored the ground as he raked one restlessly against it, lifting up grass and dirt. He did not like being so close to human territory… less so when a storm system was preparing to move through.

  Their hunting party typically did not venture so close to the Thunder River that ran along the northern border of the Blood Plains, but their clan’s meat stores were depleted from the lingering snows. It had been a particularly brutal winter, and the late spring with the delayed return of animals from the forests had demanded they extend their search for food. The giant worms were coming out of hibernation, but they were difficult to find amid the grasses in which they hid unless a hunter was fortunate, or if rains had chased them into the open. Finding signs of a small herd of four-horned tail-flappers had been too great of a temptation to ignore, and so they had tracked them to the river.

  He turned his attention toward the younger males butchering the animals that their hunters brought down in accordance with the instructions of the male overseeing them. Faltz tried to be patient with them. For most of them, this was their first season hunting. He just felt on edge knowing that only the river separated them from the human city on the other side. It was both dangerous and alluring. Dangerous
because there were huntsmen and guards who would kill any male of their kind who neared it, but alluring because the promise of a mate was almost worth risking it.

  Faltz had caught far too many of the males glancing longingly toward the other side.

  He was also tempted more than he liked to admit, even to himself.

  Heavy steps behind him made him grimace, recognizing the familiar stride and weight of his approaching friend. The clan guardian was the last Mintar he wished to see while feeling the pull of temptation. Faltz was leader of the hunt for a reason—his control was impeccable.

  “I thought I would find you here, glowering over the younglings,” Bakin chuckled as he drew up to Faltz’s side.

  Faltz glanced over at the other male. Although born within the same season and reared together by their dams, the males looked nothing alike. Bakin possessed all the grace and attractive features that Faltz lacked. Just shy of a full head shorter, Bakin’s muscular body was leaner and quicker. He had pale purple eyes, compared to Faltz’s grayer hue. Even Bakin’s long torso and four legs were covered with nothing but the most crimson scales, in contrast to Faltz’s scales edged with a deep purple. Their large ebony horns, majestically curving out from their brows, were the only true similarity between them. Differences in appearances aside, they were as close as brothers, and Bakin knew him as well as any brother could.

  “They require watching,” Faltz grunted, refusing to rise to the bait. “Indar tried to wade over the river not even an hour ago. The young males are led by their hormones, Bakin. It is not wise to have them so near the human territory.”

  Bakin sighed and shook his head. “You know as well as I do that there is little controlling males coming into their first season. We are not so old that we don’t recall what it was like going into our first rut—and the lack of unmated females that makes it such a misery. The temptation of females nearby is a difficult one to ignore. Or are you too old to remember?”

  “We are the same age, and my memory is just fine. I know exactly what these males are thinking of and I do not trust it.”

  Bakin shrugged. “All we can do is keep them occupied until we can leave the border.”

  “That cannot be fast enough for my liking,” Faltz grumbled. “These males are foolish, and not to be trusted to think sensibly. Finding females in our territory is one thing. Risking a headlong raid into enemy territory is insanity.”

  His friend raised a brow. “Are you telling me that if you had the chance to take a female of your own, you would not tempt the fates?”

  “I wouldn’t mind a mate… A calm mate with a serious disposition who knows her duty to her mate and any young she might have. In this I would be quite selective, not just jumping to rut any female who smells pleasing.”

  Bakin laughed again, one hand slapping him on the shoulder. “You speak of mating as if it is all logic, when we both know that when you find the one that catches you by the nose, there will be no resisting. My sincerest wish is to see you fall—and fall hard. May you be blessed with exactly what you need rather than what you want.”

  Faltz transferred his glare from the younger males to his friend. “That sounds like you are attempting to curse me.”

  The male grinned at him, his long tail flicking lazily, unconcerned by the irritated look thrown his way. “Is it a terrible thing to wish to see my friend happy?”

  Faltz slanted Bakin a suspicious glare. “I am beginning to question your definition of happy if you do not believe what I need and what I want in a mate are equal.”

  “The gods work in mysterious ways. Sometimes we do not know what we may need until it is right on top of us.”

  “If that is the case, I certainly hope you get everything you ‘need’ before the mistress of desires looks in my direction,” he said.

  Another chuckle followed. “Love is apparently wasted on you, my friend. I sincerely wish that as well. I wouldn’t mind an armful of a female meant to be mine. If I had a choice, she would be a strong, spirited thing… but I am not as picky as you.”

  Grunting, Faltz turned away and went down the incline to meet the youths finishing their task, Bakin’s laughter following after him. There was nothing more to argue about on the subject, and it seemed that his friend was of the mind to torment him that day with his jests.

  Bakin was right about one thing, however: the males needed to be kept diverted. Faltz could see the restlessness starting up in their lateral torsos, the muscles of their haunches quivering. Even the muscles of their medial torsos that raised up from just above their forelegs were tight with barely restrained excitement.

  Sighing, Faltz stood before them, attracting their collective attention. Every fever-bright eye, burning with the first rise of rut, at least still paid some deference to him. It was probably more than he had any right to expect. Despite Bakin’s teasing, he recalled all too well what the first rut was like—the overwhelming urges, and the helplessness when unable to satisfy them. His only shame was that, unlike other males of his species whose ruts settled down as they aged until they mated, every season was just as difficult as the first. He shuddered as a rush of desire surged through him, the very first sign of impending rut.

  Clenching his jaw, he jerked his head south. “We leave now and make camp at the Four Rivers. Load up the meat, and make haste about it.”

  A half dozen heads, each possessing the first season’s length of horns, sliced through the air as they nodded in acknowledgement. Although there was considerable grumbling, and more than one male groaned in dismay, they kept on task. Faltz eyed them, the corner of his mouth curling only a little.

  They would be far from the temptation of humans soon.

  The males slung on the wide slings, brimming with meat carefully wrapped in the large, fibrous leaves of the giant wild cabbage. With Bakin in the lead, they picked their way over the wide stretch of grasslands, the reddish gold grasses fluttering around their legs with every breeze as they left the edge of the river.

  They would have no chance of escaping the rains before they returned to their clan’s settlement, but at least they would not be near the river. It had a habit of swelling unpredictably. Bakin’s decision to leave their current encampment came at a good time. There was no lagging behind, as every male had already been preparing to leave since morning. The oncoming rain only increased their haste. Once it hit, they would be forced to hunker down, given the ferocity of the rains over the plains. No one wished to be forced into such a position next to a treacherous river that could sweep any one of them away.

  As it was, they would not have much time. Though the river disappeared from sight, replaced with long stretches of grasslands, the dark clouds were rolling in as the wind picked up. The sound of the wind rose, moaning in accompaniment to the sounds of their footsteps. Faltz could barely hear Bakin as he instructed the males to quicken their pace.

  The party broke into a gallop, breaking formation as they raced to a shelter near the Four Rivers bend, where a high enclave of rocks would allow them to weather the storm. They were not too far. Faltz could see the crest of rock in the near distance drawing closer. They would make it. At the speed they were going, they would arrive soon, if they did not break their stride.

  The darkened sky lit up with a bolt of lightning overhead. Several males recoiled, breaking rhythm. Haunches lowered in fright on more than one, but Faltz’s attention was drawn to one of the youngest of the males closest to him at the rear of the party. The smaller male, in his moment of distraction, went down hard. Several of his companions stopped, turning to help him as the rain broke out in a sudden torrent, their manes flattening over their heads and backs.

  “Go!” Faltz barked at them as he galloped at full speed toward the fallen male. They started to protest, but he swung his horns at them to emphasize his order and they scrabbled away, leaving him to assist their friend.

  Faltz’s scowl softened into a worried frown as he drew to the male’s side and realized this was not a matter
of a male being clumsy. The stunned youth grimaced painfully, struggling to stand, one of his feet caught in a hole made by some small, burrowing creature. Leaning forward, Faltz felt along the leg as the male moaned. To his relief, it wasn’t broken, although no doubt the youth was in pain.

  “Atem, you are fortunate. It only seems to be sprained. I am going to pull you free. Brace yourself.”

  Atem nodded, his face tightening as Faltz worked the foot free. Though the leg wasn’t broken, two of the foretalons were bent at odd angles. They would have to be set. The male was definitely not going to be running for a time. Atem’s red scales looked sickly as he stared down at his mangled foot. Faltz sighed. He was going to have to carry the male over his withers to safety. There would be no chance of Atem keeping up otherwise. This was not going to be comfortable for either of them.

  “I am sorry, Faltz,” the youth stammered as he swiped a long dark lock of mane out of his face.

  “Do not apologize. It can happen to even experienced hunters when caught unaware. I am going to help you up over my side. I want you to grip my sides with your hind claws, and wrap your arms around my chest. Understood?”

  Atem nodded but, even prepared, could not hold back his cry of pain as Faltz swung him over the side of his lateral torso. Thankfully, the male kept his wits about him and gripped him exactly as he was instructed. Although his claws dug into his sides uncomfortably, Faltz surged forward, one hand gripping the youth’s arms and his other on Atem’s undamaged leg. Carrying the male slowed his pace, making his breaths come out of him in short bursts as he ran full-out toward the shelter.

  Despite Faltz’s exertion, the rain was quickly chilling him, and the ground beneath his feet turning muddy as the grass flattened and clumped. His stride was frequently broken as he slid over the muddy, wet grass. The shelter was blurry, but he kept it in his sight. When they were within a short distance, another male broke into view, drawing up to his side.

  Bakin!