Chapter 5 The Hunt for the Books - Poppy's POV

Poppy

I glanced at the fox and knew I didn’t want him to stay that way forever, even if he was cute. “You’re right. I don’t. You need to become the prince again and get back to the castle.”

He tilted his head to the side, his tail curling around his paws as he stared at me with the most judgmental expression I had ever seen. Despite his furry face, he was clearly annoyed.

“I’m trying. Okay?”

“You’ve been here for several minutes, and you’ve found nothing,” he replied dryly.

I searched through a few more cabinets, panicking as I rifled through them.

“Have you found it yet?” He asked, his voice a bit amused.

“No,” I said, sighing dramatically as I searched through yet another useless cabinet.

Just where were those books? I had them here.

The only problem was that I had never needed to use them. I was only going off memory of where my grandmother had kept them when I had last seen them. She probably moved them before her death, and now… Now I was in a mess and actually needed them.

I moved to another shelf, pulling books down one by one. They were all recipe books and nothing that I actually needed.

“Maybe you should slow down and look through them,” Alden suggested.

“I don’t have time to slow down,” I murmured, then coughed as a bit of dust lodged in my throat. “Your guards are looking for you.”

“You’re just making a mess,” he added.

Books were piled up everywhere, and I could feel my panic growing with every one that turned out to be useless.

“I remember seeing them,” I muttered. “I know they were here, but—”

“They’re not now. How lovely. Perhaps your grandmother moved them.”

“I know she probably did. That doesn't help me right now,” I groaned.

Alden sighed. “You know, if you leave me as a fox permanently, I suppose I could get used to this place.”

I stopped and looked at him. “You could?”

He nodded solemnly. “There are blankets. A fireplace. And I have already discovered that you have an impressive collection of snacks.”

His eyes moved to the open cabinets I had already searched through. Sure enough, there were plenty of cookies, cakes, and treats.

I stared at him in disbelief. “You're seriously thinking about snacks right now?”

“I haven't eaten since breakfast at the castle, and I love food,” he moaned. “Your bakery smelled divine and woke up this prince’s stomach.”

I couldn't help it. A laugh escaped me.

Alden's tail flicked as he looked pleased with himself. “There. That's better.”

I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re ridiculous. I need to find this book.”

“Oh, I’ve been called so much worse,” he admitted. “But panicking won’t help you find the solution.

I turned back toward the shelves, and I didn’t immediately start searching again. Instead, I took a deep breath and looked around the cottage.

Alden was right. Panicking wasn’t helping me at all. I needed to think this through.

My grandmother had always been organized, almost annoyingly so. She had a place for everything, and whenever I put something somewhere it didn’t belong, she’d find it within minutes and move it.

I glanced at the mess I had made. “She would be horrified if she saw this.”

Alden looked around at the books on the counter. “I think horrified is putting it mildly.”

My gaze slowly drifted in his direction, narrowing slightly. “Do you want to stay a fox?”

He immediately sat up straighter. “No, I do not.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t insult me.”

He closed his mouth, but it was obvious he wanted to argue. His mouth was twitching something fierce. It lasted three seconds.

“I’m just saying that your grandmother seemed very organized and you’re—”

“Don’t say it,” I interrupted.

I began putting the recipe books back on the shelf, trying to remember exactly where they were while also trying to remember where she might have moved the journals and other books. She had always been careful with her belongings, especially those that she considered private.

I paused. Private. My gaze drifted to the fireplace.

There was something familiar about the stonework around it. I couldn't quite place it, but I remembered sitting here as a child while my grandmother told me stories.

Stories she had always insisted were only stories, except some of them had been strange. Very strange.

She used to tell me that magic had a way of finding the people who needed it most. That secrets could sleep for years before deciding it was time to wake up.

At the time, I thought she was simply being mysterious. Now, with a prince sitting in my living room as a fox because of my magic, I wasn't so sure.

I walked toward the fireplace.

“What are you doing?” Alden asked.

“I’m thinking.”

“That is generally a good thing, right?” He asked, his voice hesitant.

I ignored him. My fingers traced the edge of the stone above the hearth. There was a small crack near the bottom that I remembered seeing when I was little.

I crouched down. A loose stone sat slightly crooked.

My heart skipped. I reached toward it and carefully pulled. The stone came away with almost no effort.

Behind it was a narrow space, and inside that space were three old leather-bound books.

I stared at them. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. “I found them.”

Alden hurried toward me, his little paws skittering across the wooden floor. “Are those the books?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes.”

I reached inside and pulled out the first one. Dust covered the dark leather, and the edges were worn from years of use. I ran my fingers over the cover, feeling a strange flutter of magic beneath my fingertips.

This wasn't an ordinary book. I knew that immediately.

Alden must have sensed it too, because his playful expression disappeared. “What is it?”

“They…feel different.”

I wiped the dust away. There was no title on the cover, only a symbol pressed into the leather. It was a crescent moon surrounded by curling vines.

I frowned. I'd seen that symbol before. But where?

Then a memory surfaced. My grandmother was standing in front of this very fireplace when I was a little girl, holding one of these books against her chest.

I'd asked her what was inside. She'd looked at me with an expression I'd never understood.

Fear.

She'd told me never to touch them.

My stomach twisted. I looked down at the book in my hands.

“Well,” I whispered. “I guess I'm breaking that rule now.”