The Book of Candlelight

by Ellery Adams

  Nora’s tingle wasn’t weather related. It was a premonition. A warning.

  She looked at the bird again. It seemed familiar. Had she seen it somewhere before? If so, then where?

  Her moonlit kitchen held no answers.

  * * *

  The next morning, she felt out of sorts. When coffee failed to improve her mood, she put on her hiking boots and grabbed her walking stick. The stick was one of her prized possessions as it had been carved by a local artist and inscribed with a partial quote from The Little Prince.

  Nora took a trail that wound up into the hills. She didn’t run into any other hikers that morning, which meant she could lose herself in the peaceful beauty of her surroundings. As she walked uphill, leaves and small branches crunched under her feet and sunlight fell in slants between the tree trunks.

  After hiking for an hour, she descended a hill at the edge of the Tree House Cabins. The road between the cabins built on aboveground platforms took her past a butterfly and bumblebee garden. A bird feeder attached to a pole in the center of the garden had attracted a pair of cardinals.

  Nora heard the birds chirp and wondered what kind of conversation they were having. As she walked away, she felt a strong sense of déjà vu.

  The bird on the bottom of Danny’s bowl, she thought. It’s supposed to be red.

  After hurrying home, she kicked off her boots in the living room and grabbed her phone from the charging cradle. She pulled up the photos from Cherokee Rock and scrolled through them, not seeing what she was looking for.

  Frustrated, she turned to her laptop. After downloading the same photos from the cloud, she clicked on the first in the series and examined the graffiti. She saw initials. A crude heart. The second photo showed more of the same. She’d taken the third photo from a different angle, standing slightly off to the side. There, nestled among a group of black letters, was a small bird. It was red. And it was an exact duplicate of the bird on Danny’s bowl.

  Nora felt a prickling sensation. It swept over her skin, raising goose bumps along her arms.

  She’d found something. But what?

  All she knew was that the bird was important. It had been deliberately painted on those rocks, just like the ancient pictographs. It was there to convey meaning to others.

  Nora had a powerful sense that Danny had gone to Cherokee Rock because of that bird. She could see him parking his truck at the site, but she couldn’t picture him walking to Miracle Springs in the rain. She remembered how the river rushed into the trees, and felt with overwhelming certainty that Danny had never walked away from Cherokee Rock.

  He’d died there.

  He’d died, and his body had gone into the river.

  And the only witnesses had been his killer and a little red bird.

  Chapter 7

  The greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.

  —Roald Dahl

  Nora started work an hour early the next day. After picking up pastries from the bakery, she entered the quiet bookstore and brewed coffee.

  When there was enough caffeine-infused ambrosia to fill a mug, she grabbed one off the pegboard. It was green and had black text reading DON’T MAKE ME SUMMON MY FLYING MONKEYS.

  Nora grinned, remembering the day she’d found three literary-themed mugs at the flea market. In addition to the Wizard of Oz mug, she’d found one with a portrait of Edgar Allan Poe that read POE ME A CUP, as well as one featuring William Shakespeare in sunglasses and the caption HEY GIRL, I HEARD YOU LIKE IAMBIC PENTAMETER.

  She carried her coffee to the folktale section. Sitting on the floor, she began pulling books off the shelf and flipping through them. Most of the books contained at least one story about the owl, eagle, raven, robin, hawk, duck, woodpecker, cuckoo, crane, dove, or birds that could talk, like the parrot. None of the stories mentioned the cardinal.

  Nora checked the time. She needed to open the shop in a few minutes, which meant she’d have to resume her search later.

  Just one more book, Nora thought.

  She smiled, knowing this was the same as telling herself, Just one more chapter or I’ll stop at the end of this page.

  Luckily, the next book featured tales of woodland animals. The table of contents listed a story called “How the Red Bird Got Its Color.” Nora felt a small thrill of anticipation, which was heightened when she read the subtitle: “Adapted from a Cherokee Tale.”

  Nora opened to the story and was instantly lost in its words.

  Raccoon was a trickster. He liked to tease the other animals. The animal he teased the most was Wolf.

  Wolf did nothing to deserve this. He could have bared his fangs or showed Raccoon his sharp claws, but he didn’t. He ignored Raccoon. This made Raccoon tease Wolf even more.

  One day, Wolf lost his temper. He became very angry at Raccoon. He chased him through the forest until both animals were exhausted.

  When Wolf went to sleep that night, Raccoon covered Wolf’s eyes with mud.

  By morning, the mud had dried into a hard crust. When Wolf opened his eyes, he could not see.

  “I’ve gone blind!” he cried, turning his head this way and that. He howled, crying over his lost sight. He whined and called out for help.

  None of the other animals came to his aid.

  Finally, a bird landed on a tree branch above Wolf and asked, “Brother Wolf, what is wrong?”

  Wolf told the bird how he had gone to sleep with his sight and woken up to blindness.

  “I am Brown Bird,” the bird said. “I am not big or powerful, but I will help you if I can.”

  The bird flew down from his branch and began to peck at the dried mud covering Wolf’s eyes.

  “If I get my sight back, I will take you to a magic rock,” Wolf promised the bird. “You can paint your feathers with the red paint that flows from this rock.”

  Brown Bird managed to peck off all the mud. Wolf was so grateful to have his sight back that he told the bird to get on his back. “To show my gratitude, I will take you to the magic rock.”

  When they reached the rock, Wolf used a stick to paint Brown Bird’s feathers. When Wolf was done, the bird was bright red and very beautiful.

  Red Bird thanked Wolf and flew off to show his family his new feathers. Because of his kindness, his family grew and grew in number. The woods are now filled with red birds. Some call them cardinals.

  Nora examined the illustration of the bird and the wolf. The bird’s feathers were a vibrant cherry red and the wolf’s yellow eyes glowed like full moons in his gray face. His teeth were bared in a lupine smile. The bird was meant to draw the reader’s eye, but Nora couldn’t stop staring at the wolf. Did his smile look more threatening than friendly?

  She closed the book and thought of Danny.

  The birds etched into Danny’s pot and painted on Cherokee Rock were cardinals. Nora was sure of it. They were North Carolina’s state bird. They were cheerful and colorful. But there must be another reason Danny had chosen to etch the bird into the bottom of his pottery.

  The only way Nora could learn of Danny’s connection to this animal would be to ask Marie.

  “How would I explain my sudden interest in her late husband?” Nora asked the book spines lined up in front of her, but they offered no advice.

  Nora finished her coffee and unlocked the front door. The shop was open for business and Sheldon hadn’t come. When he arrived at half past ten, he made a beeline for the ticket agent’s office.

  “I’ll need to sit more today,” he told Nora when she came over to say hello. “I had a bad night. Every part of me aches. Even my earlobes hurt.”

  “Should you be here at all?” Nora asked.

  He waved off her concern. “Just don’t ask me to carry heavy boxes and I’ll be fine.”

  Nora looked at the folding chair she used as a desk chair. Sheldon couldn’t sit on that all day. It would exacerbate his aches and pain.

  “Use one of the reading chairs when you’re not serving custo
mers,” she said. “At lunchtime, I’ll run to the hardware store and buy a cushioned stool with a supportive back. I’ll grab us food from the Pink Lady while I’m at it.”

  Sheldon paused in the act of arranging pastries on a platter. “You sound almost chipper. Hot date last night?”

  “I hung out with my friends. Sometimes, that’s better than a hot date.”

  “Amen to that, sister.” Sheldon pointed at the fridge. “And forget about ordering from the Pink Lady. I made Cuban sandwiches. If we served sandwiches, I’d call this one the King of Havana after the novel by Pedro Juan Gutiérrez.” He smiled. “Let’s play a game today. Whoever comes up with the best sandwich and a literary name for it, buys a bag of potato chips for our meal.”

  In between helping customers, Nora thought of ideas. Old Man and the Sea for a tuna salad sandwich. Sheldon retaliated with One Fish, Two Fish. When he suggested the Godfather for an Italian sub, she fought back with the Conte of Monte Crisco.

  “I have a title for a club sandwich,” she told Sheldon later that morning.

  “The club?” Sheldon looked horrified. “That’s the whitest sandwich ever. It screams country clubs and people named Biff.”

  Nora wagged her finger. “Not this one. Take the basic club and add wasabi mayo and super-thin cucumber slices and call it the Joy Luck Club.”

  Sheldon roared with laughter and deemed Nora the winner of the game. She ran out for chips and diet sodas anyway. At half past noon, they sat at the front counter to eat lunch.

  Nora bit into her Cubano and moaned. “This is delicious. How did you toast it? It’s still warm.”

  “Panini maker,” Sheldon said. “And before you ask, yes, I travel with a panini maker. And bread-baking supplies. You can’t just buy Cuban bread at Food Lion. It has to be lovingly made by deft Cuban hands. Or deft, half-Cuban hands. Keep moaning. It pleases the chef.”

  Nora had no problem acting like she enjoyed her lunch. She gulped it down and snacked on chips while paying bills. There was a lull in business around two, so Nora told Sheldon that she wanted to run down to the hardware store to buy him a stool.

  “You can leave as soon as I get back,” she added.

  “We’ve been busy all day until now, so I’ll stay until three. You’re bound to have an afternoon coffee rush. Besides, I need to come up with a vegetarian sandwich name. Just for fun.” He tapped his chin. “How about the Beet Queen?”

  Nora laughed. “That’s awful.”

  “You’re right. What about Princess and the Pea? Snow peas with avocado on pita bread?”

  “The princess didn’t sleep on mattresses piled on top of a snow pea,” Nora said.

  “Fine,” Sheldon huffed. “Let’s see what you come up with.”

  Nora didn’t have the chance to think of a name because she had to help a woman searching for books similar to Jodi Picoult’s. Nora suggested that she give Anna Quinn, Jojo Moyes, and Kristin Hannah a try. The woman bought five books, a pewter teapot, and a set of mala beads made of turquoise, rosewood, and clear quartz.

  “I’m coming back tomorrow,” she told Nora on her way out. “Your coworker promised me the best coffee of my life. Who could resist that offer?”

  Nora smiled. She had a coworker. She had someone who loved books, who made coffee like a professional barista, who had the courage to wear his happiness and his pain on his sleeve. She had Sheldon Vega. And if he stayed, they would be more than coworkers. They would be friends.

  At the hardware store, Nora tested the stool for comfort and told the clerk she’d take it.

  “The floor sample’s a little scuffed up. I’ll get a new one from the back,” he said.

  Nora lined up to pay. Lou was right in front of her, so she tapped the other woman on the shoulder. Lou started in surprise and then turned and laughed.

  “I was miles away,” she said. “My to-do list is taking up all the space in my head.”

  “Is that for the hallway?” Nora asked, pointing at the paint cans in Lou’s cart.

  Lou nodded. “My arms are still sore from scraping wallpaper. By the time I’m done with paint rollers and brushes, I’m going to need to soak in a thermal pool for a month. Sometimes, I worry that buying that old house will be the death of me. I guess the pull of family was stronger than logic.”

  Nora was about to tell Lou about the contents of the steamer trunks when Lou’s phone rang. She pulled it from her back pocket and examined the screen.

  “It’s Patty. Do you think the roof caved in while I was in here?”

  Uttering a quick apology to Nora, Lou answered the phone. She listened for several seconds before her eyes grew round with surprise.

  “Nora’s standing next to me. Should I ask if she’ll take a look?”

  Lou hung up and pocketed her phone. Her movements were slow, and she looked dazed.

  “Everything okay?” Nora asked.

  “It’s not the roof,” Lou said. “The chimney guys pulled out another loose stone above the mantel. The stone was covering a hole. It was deliberately carved into the wall. And there was something inside.”

  Nora knew that Lou was drawing out her story, but she didn’t care. She was already captivated by the image of a hidey-hole above the mantel.

  “What was it?” she asked as Lou placed her paint cans on the counter.

  “A box. Patty thinks it’s made of crystal. It’s locked, and there’s no key in sight. When Patty wiped the box off, she could see what was inside.” She paused to pay the cashier and then turned back to Nora. “It’s a book.”

  “What’s the title?”

  “Patty said that she can’t really see through the crystal. She thinks the box might be valuable and doesn’t want to damage it trying to force it open. Would you take a look and give us your opinion? We don’t know much about antiques.”

  Nora tried to conceal her excitement. “I’ll come right after work. I might be able to help with that lock too. I have a lockpick kit, and I’ve gotten pretty good at using it.”

  “It’s a date,” Lou said.

  The word reminded Nora of her dinner with Jed. If she stopped at the Inn of Mist and Roses first, she’d probably be late. But Jed would understand. How could she pass up the chance to examine a book locked inside a box hidden in the wall?

  Nora carried the stool to the bookstore and told Sheldon about the walled-up book.

  To her surprise, he seemed discomfited by the news. “What if it’s a grimoire or something wicked like that? There’s a reason somebody locked the thing in a box and stuck it in that hole. A glass box? That’s weird too. It’s like the book is Snow White, waiting on a prince. I don’t like stories where women are imprisoned by sleep or thorns or towers until some guy kisses them awake. They should be fierce enough to get woke on their own.”

  Nora was too fixated on the walled book to discuss gender bias in fairy tales. She went off to search for shelf enhancers that came with keys. She’d bring all the keys to the inn. If none of them worked, she’d try picking the lock. Many of the vintage items she bought for the shop came without keys, which is why Nora had learned to pick simple locks. She could now open clock cases, old boxes, tea caddies, or a file cabinet.

  When Nora had her materials assembled, she told Sheldon to call it a day. On his way out, she handed him a check. “If I don’t see you at the inn, I’ll see you Monday.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Unless I have to.” He pocketed the check without looking at it.

  Nora smiled. “By the way, I thought of a name for a veggie sandwich. The Lady of Shallot.”

  “Yes!” Sheldon cried. “Shallots and mushrooms on a baguette.” He pointed down the sidewalk. “Oh my. The ugliest Vespa in the world is heading this way. Time for me to fly.”

  Sheldon wriggled his fingers in farewell and scurried past Richard Kerr.

  Richard saw Nora standing in the doorway and waved. This wasn’t the haggard, dejected man who’d visited the bookstore a week ago. He looked at ease. Happy even
.

  “Here she is,” he said, and balanced the moped on its kickstand. He touched one of the hot-pink flowers decorating the canary-yellow body. “You can take these off if you want.”

  “I’m just renting it, remember? Lily might want to reclaim her moped—flower stickers and all—in the future.”

  Richard entered the store. “We’ve been talking,” he said shyly. “Me, Jess, and Lily. It hasn’t all been productive. Or peaceful. But the walls between us have crumbled a bit.”

  “Which means a little light is coming through.”

  Richard smiled. His eyes were bright with hope. “Exactly. Jess and I are still reading the books you recommended, but we’re making progress as a family. I can’t thank you enough for helping us.”

  Nora thought of her recent fall on her bike and of the damage to her flea market finds, including the bowl Danny made. “You’re helping me too. I haven’t driven anything with a motor for years.”

  Richard handed her the owner’s manual, bought the last book pocket to eat on his way home, and left.

  Nora had just enough time before closing to scour the Internet for red bird symbols like the ones on Danny’s pot and at Cherokee Rock. The image had flitted around in her head all day long. She’d see a flash of red and think of the cardinal. And since her only customer was a mother reading board books to her toddler, Nora felt free to focus on her laptop.

  She quickly learned that the cardinal was an important bird to Native Americans. It was a messenger—an animal that could travel between Earth and the spiritual realm. Some tribes believed the cardinal was the daughter of the sun. Others believed the red bird could predict the weather. A symbol of strength, passion, and monogamy, the red bird didn’t migrate. It endured the cold, its red plumage a bright contrast to the winter snow and bare tree limbs. Its constancy instilled hope and the promise of spring.

  Nora paused her research to ring up the mother’s selections of Sandra Boynton’s Moo, Baa, La La La, Margaret Wise Brown’s Goodnight Songs, and Hello Bugs! by Smriti Prasadam. The toddler was holding Hello Bugs! with a death grip and eyes that warned of an impending tantrum. But Nora needed to scan the bar code, so she patted the counter and spoke to the child. “Why don’t you sit up here? You can zap your book with a red light. Want to try?”