The Grimoire of the Blue Crystal

Weeks passed since that first meeting. I'd gotten used to running downstairs every morning when I heard his whistle. We walked to the library together. He seemed like just another employee: he had a strict routine, checking each book list and, assuming the book had been registered under another name, reviewing them one by one.

"I have three months left and I haven't found anything. I don't think I can finish my homework in such a short time. The truth is, I don't know what the grimoire looks like."

"And how are you going to pay your bills if the money your father gave you runs out?"

"It's never going to happen. My father has too much money. The problem is something else..."

"Then stay. I don't want you to leave," the comment came out unfiltered, and I felt instantly committed. "You have no reason to come back."

"...the Master's program registrations. If I don't start on time, I'll have to wait another semester."

My face said it all, and he smiled.

"If the three-month deadline passes, I promise to give you access to the other area. Of course, no one must find out. I hope it won't be necessary because I don't want any trouble."

I was already giving in more than I had planned; this boy meant something special to me.

"You're giving me your trust, and I value that. I promise to take you to see my homeland, as soon as I finish what I came here to do."

"And if you don't find him, or he doesn't exist, which amounts to the same thing, what's your plan?"

"I must return with my hands full, not empty; I must find some other treasure."

Another of his hints that softened my soul.

"Can I give you a kiss?" Fatima.

"I didn't say anything; saying yes would have gone against my morals, and saying no, against my wishes."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be disrespectful," Alfonso added.

My nerves gave me away; I leaned back and tripped over my pencil. He bent down first and put it back in its place.

"Thank you," I whispered, and before he could finish speaking, I felt his lips on mine, a superficial kiss, a first contact that sealed the beginning of our relationship.

"Did you feel anything special?" he commented sweetly, stroking my hair.

Again, I remained silent. I felt everything, I wanted to scream.

Alfonso was discreet in leaving me in private for a while, and I immediately began talking to myself.

"What a delicious kiss, it was inexplicable. I love him, that's what I feel," I said to myself in a voice so low I could barely hear him. "I'm in love with him, but I don't dare tell him."

"I forgot to tell you something," he said, taking me by surprise.

"What something?" I asked, praying he hadn't heard me.

"My best sense is hearing; I can hear from a distance."

He meant he heard me and was gentlemanly enough not to repeat it. He left me that clue so I could adjust to the idea of ​​being with him.

The exchange of glances was interrupted by a surprising message: they were informing me of the repairs they were going to make to the water pipes that run under the street where the library entrance is located. I'd have to close until the street work was finished.

"How many days will it take?" Alonso asked, worried. "This changes everything, it's going to take longer," he complained, anxiously grabbing his hair.

"I guess two or three days, it's not long."

"And in the meantime, what do I do?"

"You have me, we'll do something. Do you want to visit another library?"

"No, I need to be there somehow."

"What are you thinking? It's the only entrance."

"To make the most of the time, we'll do this: we'll be here while they work outside, it's better, I won't be interrupted."

"Without going out? Are you crazy?"

"Exactly, no, I'm not crazy, I see it clearly. We'll buy what we need for the night. It would be like taking a trip back in time. Are you up for it?"

"It's inappropriate from every point of view, just you and me?"

"I understand, so let me explore. I know I can do it without problems and without distractions, since you won't be with me."

"Stop the hints, listen carefully: if anything happens to these books, I'll die, you know that?"

"Let me in starting today, after midnight. I won't take anything out. I'll be locked in. Only you have the keys."

"I'll think it over. Expect my response in an hour."

"You'll say yes, I know you. I'll get ready with what I need and let my father know." He kissed me on the mouth and left without adding anything else.

My head was spinning; I wasn't used to the influence Alonso had over me. So I went to consult my grandfather; with his wisdom, he would give me the best advice.

At the front of the house was Kassem, who, upon seeing me, stood up from his bench.

"Welcome back, cousin. You haven't come to visit us since you've been with the foreigner."

"Shut your poisonous tongue. You know I work a lot. Don't make small talk."

"Don't bother, people are whispering..."

"I came to see Grandpa. Please tell him," Fátima interrupted.

"...that you're in love," Kassem added.

I stomped my feet to the street to look at the upstairs window. It was common for Grandpa to look out when visitors arrived.

"Grandpa! It's me, Fátima. Grandpa!"

A few minutes later, his silhouette appeared behind the curtains.

I waited until he saw me.

"Daughter, what are you doing there? Come here."

I skipped up the stairs two at a time to get there faster.

A heartfelt hug brought tears to my eyes.

"Dear granddaughter, I haven't seen you in weeks. Who's got you so distracted?"

Whenever I saw Grandpa, he would confess; standing in front of me was synonymous with taking off any mask.

"It's just that a foreigner comes to the library every day and has my attention. He's very demanding."

"I didn't know you gave special treatment to some users."

"I don't; it's just that he comes with a special request, and I can't seem to please him."

"Tell me what it is?"

"He's gotten it into his head that we have a very ancient grimoire in safekeeping that he needs to consult."

"We certainly have some. What's so special about that one?"

"He's been following up on a lead. He says that grimoire came here with a merchant, who acquired it in the 9th century."

"It's easy, daughter, for him to check the list; each work is carefully recorded there."

"I know, but he insists. I even went down alone to check the protected collections, and it's not there either."

"Then send him back home. You can't waste your energy on something ephemeral. It's the boy's whim, I'm sure. Send him flying, little one. Don't get entangled. Let him find out thoroughly and then proceed."

I felt saddened by Grandfather's response.

"You like the boy, right? Is that why you want to help him?"

"Yes, we've spent many hours together."

"Drink some tea, you'll feel better."

As I moistened my lips with the hot drink, Grandfather told me a story.

"In ancient times, around the year 900, a very rich merchant brought a very valuable stone to the city. When he died, his daughter Fatima inherited his entire fortune, including that jewel. Since then, many men have come to our land in search of what they don't know. No one knows its shape, color, or design; it has remained a secret over the years. Suddenly, it's what the young man is looking for, not a grimoire. In truth, no one knows, no one has seen it, and Fatima"-she pointed to the painting on the wall-"took the secret to the grave."

"So it's true?"

"We'll never know. There's no record. Why is he looking for it? Or what does he think it contains?"

"He says it contains the original magic, the one that many tried to imitate without success, becoming charlatans and liars."

"You have to be careful, daughter, because you don't know his intentions. What does he want to achieve with magic that he can't achieve as a human being?" Grandpa's question made me doubt Alfonso again.

"I didn't ask him; he says he wants to know if it exists, that's all."

"As a descendant of the first Fatima in our family, you must search for the answer within yourself. You are the guardians; she must have left you that jewel; guide the search there. Without telling the boy, let him continue searching for whatever he thinks he needs. Meanwhile, you imagine that piece in your dreams; I have nothing more to guide you."

A knock revealed Kassem, who fell to the floor when Grandpa opened the door.

"What were you doing there? Don't you respect my privacy?"

My cousin ran off when Grandpa raised his cane threateningly.

"Wait, I forgot to tell you something. That boy recovered my bag; a thief snatched it. All I had in it was a sandwich and the three keys to the library."

"Someone might be after the foreigner; be careful. Or he might have planned it himself to gain your trust."

My body bristled at the last sentence.