I ended up getting landed with an absolutely massive bookstand.

  I had been thinking of something to sit on my desk.

  Instead I got a stone edifice.

  Quite literally.

  It was made of hewn stone, a deep gray sheen. The stand ended in four clawed paws, with a top large enough to hold a book 3 times the size of the one I had.

  Vaarg had called it “fitting”.

  It also cost me 5 gold coins.

  Which was absolutely insane. More insane still that I could actually afford it.

  Not to mention entirely too heavy to move. Which meant It levitated it, shoved it through Stupid’s portal to my room — upending my bed in the process, and set an enchant on the floor so it didn’t fall through.

  All so the book could flutter up on it, like a pleased bird on its perch.

  I went to bed mad.

  ____

  I woke up the next morning, mad.

  The stupid book was fluttering its pages in the morning sun like a cat sunbathing.

  I glared at the stand, completely out of place with the rest of my rickety wood furniture.

  Maybe I should consider getting my own house, instead of living upstairs in a tavern.

  I grunted and glared at the book.

  No. I wasn’t going to change because my new roommate was obnoxious. It could have its stand. I’d keep my room, with Mrs. Blurtz and Troll — uh… Bugz, downstairs.

  I grunted as I got out of bed, surprised It and Stupid weren’t present.

  The book had promised to remodel the Tavern common room after all.

  I shrugged on a new shirt, tossing my bedclothes in a corner.

  The book snapped shut.

  I sighed and picked up my laundry, folding it neatly and sticking it in my dresser, which I had never before used.

  The book resumed sunbathing.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “This is going to be horrible,” I muttered to myself, combing my hands through my hair to make myself presentable.

  One of the benefits of shorter hair.

  Far less work.

  As if the morning couldn’t get worse, I noticed a hole in my boot when I pulled it on.

  Great. I’d have to get new boots later.

  I stomped over to the book, only to find it weaving words across the page already.

  Have you considered getting your own place?

  “No.” I stated, slamming it shut and tucking it under my arm.

  ____

  The book flung itself open before I could reach the door.

  Is that any way to treat your new roommate?

  “You aren’t my roommate. You are a book,” I groused.

  I am a Guide, and you are a brat.

  I huffed, blushing. That one stung a bit more than I thought it would have.

  Instead of answering, I only felt my ears grow warmer, at a loss for words.

  After all, I am the one who will be doing the remodeling for you.

  “It’s your fault we have to remodel in the first place!” I exclaimed.

  It needed to be fixed up anyway.

  “You know, that actually doesn’t make any sense at all,” I grunted, more tempted by the moment to toss the book out the window.

  Fear of what may happen stayed my hand.

  “Are you really going to do this,” I sighed.

  No.

  I clenched my jaw. I had officially found something more irritating than Vaarg.

  I never thought I would see the day.

  “You promised,” I accused. “I spent almost two months pay on your stand!”

  I never said you had to get that particular stand. It is a lovely stand though, the book replied.

  “You still promised,” I ground out, my good eye threatening to pop out of my head.

  I’m just a Guide, I don’t have magic.

  “Your ability to antagonize me is magical in its own way,” I sighed.

  It’s your fault for being so high strung — it makes it too fun to resist. Anyway, I meant what I said. I can’t do it. I’m just a guide. We are going to use your magic.

  “High strung? Fun? Do you have any idea — wait, my magic?”

  Obviously. It is the whole reason I put up with you in the first place.

  I wanted to say it wasn’t so easy to get along with itself, but decided to refrain.

  “Are you… going to explain what that means?”

  Absolutely not. Maybe if I decide I like you more one day. Now get downstairs so we can get to work. I’m excited to see how much I can squeeze out of you before you pass out, the book penned, flipping itself shut.

  “What?”

  But the book remained closed.

  I suddenly felt a lot more nervous.

  ____

  My jaw dropped when I made it down the stairs. I now knew why Stupid and It were not present.

  They were downstairs.

  With Vaarg.

  Who was dressed in a pinstripe suit and a golden monocle, sitting cross-legged and sipping actual tea.

  “What did ‘e do then?” I overheard Mrs. Blurtz laughing.

  “He tried to attack a 300 year old Blathosian wood spider,” Vaarg chuckled.

  “I remember ‘im returnin’ that day, mutterin’ something bout giant spiders,” she nodded. “I thought he was mistaken.”

  “Stupid sneezed the spooda away!” Stupid chirped.

  “Yes, I still haven’t figured out where you blasted him off to,” Vaarg responded dryly.

  “Bad spooda hurt Beeg. So bad spooda go!”

  “The spider was there before Beeg,” Vaarg reminded.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “Didn’t you send him to Aisle 3, Vaarg?” It monotoned.

  Vaarg blinked.

  Then cleared his throat.

  “Yes well, he wasn’t an official minion yet,” he stated defensively.

  “But boss hired him!” Stupid giggled.

  “Ok that’s enough,” Vaarg snapped waspishly while Mrs. Blurtz laughed. “Where is that boy — “

  He glanced up to see me at the bottom of the stairs.

  “You’re late,” he stated.

  I take it back. I really couldn’t decide if I hated Vaarg or the book more.