Somewhere Quiet

Jeanie was very eager for my power to grow, but I was curious about where this ring came from. "Ok, Jeanie, if you won't tell me, I'll have to find out myself. I think I know a place we can both be happy." She slouched in her chair at my words, but didn't complain. I heard her sigh and whimper at the potential targets we are passing, and she verbally complained about the twins we just passed. I finally pulled into the city library, hoping I could do a little research into magic, lady-changing rings. Jeanie groaned in annoyance.

"The library? So you like the shy, bookish type? Wouldn't have pegged you for one. I'd peg you, though, if that ever was required." I felt so grateful. "Alright, Poindexter, you have fun trying to read about the ring, while I check out some things." She drifted off from me as I crossed the opulent, marble floor of the building's atrium. My steps echoed through the silent halls and between stately pillars. I approached a central desk covered in OSHA-violating stacks of novels. Behind them hunched an ancient woman slowly decreasing the pile of books with a shaky scan of a bar code reader.

"Excuse me, which direction would I find a book about supernatural, magic jewelry?" My specific request attracted her gaze away from her task, and I got a look at the old crone. Her hair was grey with hints of the raven black she used to have, pulled into a tight but frazzled bun. Her face had a decent amount of wrinkles, though they concentrated around her eyes and corners of her mouth, implying years of smiles and laughter. She looked rather beautiful, and I bet she was a total piece in her prime.

Woah! That was a randomly horny thought. This lady was probably in her 70s, but I was still getting a half chub as her jade eyes inspected me through thin-framed glasses. "Fantasy is on the second floor with the rest of fiction." She finally said with a smile, turning back to her task.

"Actually, I was hoping for anything more...historical? Maybe ancient fables that are actually real." I tried not to sound to suspicious, but she seemed to notice my urgency.

"History section is in the far back," she gestured over her thin shoulder. "Use Dewey for your specific inquiry." She took another look at me, and seemed to appreciate what she saw. I muttered a thanks and hurried away before she could see the tent I was pitching. I walked down the long hall, the ambient sound of other readers slowly faded as I went deeper into the building. I found a chart describing which numbers covered what subjects, and an antique computer allowed me to read each title before trying to find them by myself. I found a section for magic, occult, and supernatural, then I scrolled through each block of works to find titles that might help.