Under New Management

[Hamish MacFusty]

It had been a bit of a whim decision. After welcoming Callum into the world, happy and healthy, despite the struggles they had endured during Violet's pregnancy. There had only been an inkling of doubt where Hamish had been concerned; MacFusty babes were strong and stubborn and he was sure Cal would be the same. Still it had given him cause to stop and think about perhaps putting the family business to rest. Dragonkeeping did not have the best record in his family, costing the lives of several members even in recent years and Ham would not, could not continue on, despite the enjoyment he got from it. If something were to happen to him, he couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like for Violet.

And so he'd made sure one of his cousins could take over with Caylith and then he'd bought the bookstore on High Street.

It served two purposes, for one, Hamish was not one to sit idly, sure he was working on another book, but that didn't keep him active. This would certainly keep him busy. The second reason was a bit selfish, but he hoped it would serve as a little present to Violet to soften her up after the events of the summer. While there was no way to prove who she'd gotten the dragon pox from, it had been a stressful situation to say the least. Hopefully this would bring her back around.

The only problem was, Hamish had never really run a business before, so he was trusting his new manager would be able to help him out. Books though, those he knew and that was a check in his favor. He stood behind the counter, his impressive frame nearly bent in half as he looked over the inventory list before him. It looked straightforward, should have been, but for some reason the bottom line was not adding up to what it should be. He made a little whine of frustration before he realized he wasn't alone at the front of the shop anymore. "I apologize," Ham said, standing up quickly, almost bashing his head against the cabinet behind him. "Was there something I can help you with?"

  

[Naden Heron]

Baden pushed into the shop with callous, burn pocked hands. The scars of the coppersmith. He had no hope of finding the texts he'd needed, but it was worth a shot, "Looking for a particularly old codex, a collection of the alchemical writings of Zosimos of Panopolis?"