The Sisters of Straygarden Place

rumbling went on and on, and Mayhap thought it would never end. When it finally stopped, the little drawers remained closed. Not one opened, and no catalog card was presented to her. Mayhap huffed.
“That means,” said Tutto, “that there are no books in this library that have anything in them about the grass.”
“How can that be possible?” Mayhap said, half to herself and half to Tutto. She looked around the sweeping library. There must have been thousands of books in it.
Tutto had swiveled to face her again. “It isn’t too surprising,” he said, “when you consider that this house is a rather lonely one.”
“Mamma and Pappa — they wanted to. Write about it, I mean. But they left. They left us. They never got the chance.”
“There, there,” said Tutto, nudging her with his warm metal nose. “We still have to address the matter of the families — the ones who used to live at Straygarden Place.”
Mayhap nodded, gritting her teeth. Coming to the library had been a pointless pain. There probably wouldn’t be any books about the other families, either. And then what would she do?
Tutto seemed to read her mind. “There’s nothing for it but to try, Mayhap.” He spun around so that the drawers in his left side faced her again.
Mayhap aligned herself with Tutto’s drawers. And maybe it was the coffee smell, or maybe it was feeling verklempt over Tutto’s gentleness, or maybe it was everything that was going on with Winnow, but instead of saying, “I’m looking for books about the families who have lived at Straygarden Place,” she found herself saying, “I’m looking for books about my family.”
She realized too late; the process had already begun.
The rattle again, then the rumble. But this time, after a few seconds, one of Tutto’s drawers shot out like an extended arm, and a card flew from it, tumbling through the air toward Mayhap, twisting like a diving bat.
She jumped to snatch at it.
At first, the letters skittered like ants. But then her vision settled, and the card settled, and she could read it clearly: The Collected Diaries of Quiverity Edevane.
“I don’t understand,” she said under her breath.
Seekatrix growled.
“Let me help you there, Mayhap,” said Tutto, and he wheeled about to stand beside her, careful not to bump her over. He read the card. “Oh, dear,” he said. “No, no. That’s not right.” The drawer in his side shot open, and the card was drawn back into it.
“What happened?” asked Mayhap, her heart turned spiky.
“Oh, it’s only a mix-up,” said Tutto. “You asked for information on your family, and I’m afraid the wrong card was brought up.”
Mayhap hesitated. “But — Tutto, you chose the card.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. The library chose it. It’s an arcane process, even to me. Anyway, let’s try again. Nothing more for it than to try again. I daresay even magical libraries can have glitches.”
“But why would the house bring up a card with the name Quiverity Edevane on it when I asked about my family?”
“It is strange,” said Tutto. “Clearly you are not an Edevane. Why, you’re a Ballastian, through and through. Eyes like dug holes, that’s what your mother used to say. And skin like a peach rose. A botanist’s daughter, through and through.”
Something tickled in Mayhap’s throat. The coffee smell made her skin itch. She couldn’t help but feel that the erroneous card was some sort of garbled message. If only she could figure out what the message was. “I don’t understand,” she said. “I don’t understand anything.”
“Now, that’s not true.” The kindness in Tutto’s eyes burned, making Mayhap want to cry. “There are plenty of things you understand. Now, we need to find a book that can help Winnow. Does that sound like a good idea to you?”
Mayhap gave a single nod. “I — I am looking for books about the families that have previously lived at Straygarden Place. Please.”
Tutto’s insides grumbled — again. One of this drawers was flung out — again. Another card pirouetted into the air, somersaulting to land in Mayhap’s palm. Tutto looked over her shoulder as Mayhap read the words aloud: “The Book of Records: Details Concerning the Residents and Ex-Residents of Straygarden Place.”
“Ah, you see,” said Tutto. “This time you have received the correct card.”
Seekatrix barked happily.
Mayhap was relieved, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the previous card. She stared at the new card in her hand.
“Aren’t you going to ask for it, then?” said Tutto.
“Yes,” said Mayhap. “Yes, of course. Could I please take a look at” — she consulted the card, careful to get the words exactly right — “The Book of Records: Details Concerning the Residents and Ex-Residents of Straygarden Place.”
Tutto and Mayhap both scanned the library’s shelves.
Then Mayhap caught sight of a large book taking its time to wriggle out of a shelf, as though it had been jammed in too tightly. As soon as it freed itself, it flew through the air, descending toward her.
Mayhap’s knees buckled when she caught it. Its cover was shiny — a deep scarlet with gilded lettering.
“Might be best to put it down and flip through it carefully,” said Tutto.
Mayhap carried the thick book over to one of the reading tables. Tutto squeaked on his wheels behind her, and Seekatrix scratched at her leg when she sat down, wanting attention. “Shhh,” she told him, patting his head.
The pages were as thin as sheaves of voile. Each one was divided into columns: Name, Lost Quality, Date of Arrival, Date of Departure, and Notes.
Mayhap read out the words in the Lost Quality column, struggling to pronounce them because the smell of coffee had lodged itself deep in her lungs. “Language. All sweet smells. Silence. Mornings. Harmonious music. Decision-making.”
Tutto read over her shoulder: “Hellos and goodbyes. Good tastes. Imagining. Color.”
“Good tastes,” repeated Mayhap. The name of the man who had lost good tastes was Algernonian Greft, and under the notes section there was one word: Deceased. Mayhap twitched. This was the man the Mysteriessa had told her about.
“Go to the end of it,”