The air was cold, sending shivers up Page's arms. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trench coat after pulling the collar to protect his neck. Shouldn't have forgotten the scarf.

His trainers slapped the pavement, leading him towards the only place he set out this weekend. He should be studying for his finals, but something about a fictional fairy coming to life in his room and warning him to never go back to Iris' bookshop made him want to go and confirm something. Well...maybe more than one thing.

Dara flitted back to the back around dawn. He couldn't have been more glad. The notion of trying to get some shut-eye while a fairy woman glowered at him from the corner of his room was enough to send him keeping up with her vigil. It was only when she disappeared in a flash of light and fluttered the pages of the borrowed book did he collapse on his pillows and caught up on his missed hours.

A yawn fought to escape his lips, and he shielded the proof of not having enough sleep with a closed fist. What Dara told him and implied last night sent his mind reeling. It was a stuff for the books, of the fiction narratives he shoved into his head since he was twelve. He tried every reasoning he could, ones that wouldn't implicate his beloved sanity, and none of them fit whatever he experienced. No, he wasn't going crazy—at least, not yet. He wasn't dreaming either. And most of all, Dara and the book were as real as they could be.

Which sent him reeling towards the conclusion he was presented with. A conclusion which prompted him to throw on a coat and stick his toes into his boots for an early morning stroll. Whatever Iris was, she couldn't be that bad, considering she gave him the book containing Dara and even pushed it on him. If she knew something about it, then...

The bell dinged upon his entry. Iris perked up and adjusted her glasses. As if on cue, her gaze landed on the book tucked underneath Page's arm as he approached the counter. "I've come to return this," he said, putting the book over the wood's peeling finish. "I guess I wasn't up for the gravity of the plot. There's too much happening."

Iris stuck a lip out. "I see," she said, tapping a finger on the book's hardbound cover. It was then he noticed her nails were tapered to a point, painted red at the edges, and seemed to send him a message. But what? Characters he could analyze for the id, ego, and superego, but real people? Nah.

"I hope you're not returning this because of...paranormal reasons," Iris prompted.

A frown pulled at the corners of his lips. "What paranormal reasons?"

She took the bait with such delight, mouth widening into a smile. He was yet to decide if it was manic or friendly. "Oh, like people coming to life," she said, her voice dropping into a lazy purr. "Fairies crawling out of the book. Readers falling in love with fiction enough to break curses. Nothing of the sort? Doesn't it ring a bell?"

Page's boots skidded backwards, his ankle hitting the nearest pile of books on the floor. "That's...oddly specific," he said. Why was it getting colder here? Did he leave the door open? "No. Didn't ring any bells."

Iris licked her lips. The red paint on them didn't come off. Was she using the waterproof matte kind or something? Or was it something else?

"Truly a shame," she said with a click of her tongue. The register beeped when it slid out. He wasn't going to pay anything, was he? She gave him the book for free. Even overdue fees were waived, as far as he was concerned, and it wasn't even twenty-one days. He didn't have a dime in his pocket left for other things this month, and his part-time job wouldn't be enough even if he worked full shifts during finals. "Today is her last day to break her bondage, and even with all the chances given to her, she couldn't lift it."

Iris chuckled, staring Page up and down. "You did good, though, lad. At least one of them managed to triumph past the first hurdle." She heaved a sigh, slumping her shoulders down. "Oh well, I suppose Dara would stay there for eternity."

His eyes widened. He stepped forward and was about to retake the book when Iris swiped it with a speed he didn't see coming. "Ah, ah." She wagged her finger at him. Despite being only eight years older, she looked as if she was a hundred years old. A thousand, even. She could have been a hag in disguise, and that was Page coming up with the best insult he could under pressure. "You both had your chance. Now, it is time to reap the consequences of your choices."

"Who the hell are you?" Page demanded. "What have you done to Dara?"

"Not me, no." Iris put a hand on her chest as if offended. What right did she have, though? "Most of the contracts in this shop are my mother's. She was a peddler of all things magical, including souls and the occasional fairy, elf, or mermaid. A proper witch, she was."

Page must have made a face because she braced the counter and guffawed. "You live in a magical world, boy. You just need to open your eyes to see things lurking in the shadows," she said. "They have always been there. We have always been. Watching, waiting, playing."

"Is that it? You just want to have fun?" Page asked. The revelations of the recent minutes would send his literary professor to his grave once he learned the autobiography Page would pass wasn't a fantasy novel instead. "Did you give me the book to mess with me?"

Iris shrugged. "It's taking up space in the backroom," she said. "I need space for other things that have value, but Mother's things kept getting in the way. Can't just throw them away, so I have to get rid of them using some other method."

"And...you chose to pester me about it?"

"Worked, didn't it?" Iris inclined her head at him. "Now, you're dying to know if it was possible to free Dara."

Page pursed his lips. She got him. "Will you tell me? Or are you just going to waste my time?"

She shrugged. "I'll tell you," she said. "Dara can only be freed if you could give me something of equal value."

"And what could that be?" He ventured.

"A soul for a soul," Iris replied, her eyes sparkling with the same glint she got when talking about her favorite books. "Isn't that the basic rule of life?"

Page rested a hand on the counter. She backed away, arms around the book as if it was her life's work. "It doesn't have to be that way," he said. "You said it's your mother's spell. Maybe you can undo it without the conditions."

"It's my mother's spell, so I can't, dummy," Iris answered. "She also set a time limit for most of the contracts here. Dara's contract will expire around noon today. After that, she would be bound to the tale forever, engaged to Kalasta something something."

"Fine," he said. "Let's free Dara. Do whatever you need to do."

Iris didn't need to be told twice. A ring of bright light slammed towards him in a strong torrent. The book's pages fluttered, shaking against the tattered spine as if wanting to rip free. Dara's luscious hair flashed in Page's periphery, her eyes widening at the realization of what was happening.

"No!" was the last thing Page heard before the entire weight of the world crashed on top of him. The next time he opened his eyes, everything changed.