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May, Marius
Liesel loves the library at Green Gardens, and she loves Luke's bookstore possibly even more, but sometimes she misses her books from home. Most of the books she's read in Darrow so far are in English, and Liesel can understand why, but she does miss the way German words look on a page, the way it feels so much more natural to her to read. If she asked Magnus he could probably magic her some German books, but she feels a little guilty asking him. In truth she's lucky to have what she does, and she knows there are plenty of children with much less. If Mama were here she'd whack her with a spoon and tell her to be grateful for what she has.
She is grateful, and she's been reading her way through the library at a fast pace, sometimes finishing four of five books a week. Now that she's good at reading it's much easier than it was when she first learned with Papa, and in Darrow she has all the time in the world and all kinds of books at her fingertips. There's school, of course, which she's getting better at and she hasn't skipped so many classes anymore, but then the rest of the day is hers. Sometimes she practices baking with Greta in the afternoons, but more often than not she tucks herself away in a corner of the library to read.
There's also her secret project, which is coming along slowly in one of the blank writing books she bought from the store. Max had written her two books and she'd treasured both of them dearly. Leaving them behind in Molching still makes her sad to think about, but she's comforted by the memory of him and how much the books had meant to her. She wants to do something like that for Saoirse, write her a story that she can treasure too, and maybe cheer her up when she's feeling bad about her family not being here.
It's late afternoon and she's still in her school clothes, not having bothered to change when she got back to Green Gardens. Instead she'd gone straight to the library and tucked herself into her corner, her book on her lap and a pencil in her hand. She's concentrating so hard on the words, carefully marking them into the paper, that she doesn't notice when somebody else walks in.
She is grateful, and she's been reading her way through the library at a fast pace, sometimes finishing four of five books a week. Now that she's good at reading it's much easier than it was when she first learned with Papa, and in Darrow she has all the time in the world and all kinds of books at her fingertips. There's school, of course, which she's getting better at and she hasn't skipped so many classes anymore, but then the rest of the day is hers. Sometimes she practices baking with Greta in the afternoons, but more often than not she tucks herself away in a corner of the library to read.
There's also her secret project, which is coming along slowly in one of the blank writing books she bought from the store. Max had written her two books and she'd treasured both of them dearly. Leaving them behind in Molching still makes her sad to think about, but she's comforted by the memory of him and how much the books had meant to her. She wants to do something like that for Saoirse, write her a story that she can treasure too, and maybe cheer her up when she's feeling bad about her family not being here.
It's late afternoon and she's still in her school clothes, not having bothered to change when she got back to Green Gardens. Instead she'd gone straight to the library and tucked herself into her corner, her book on her lap and a pencil in her hand. She's concentrating so hard on the words, carefully marking them into the paper, that she doesn't notice when somebody else walks in.
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He comes across the book in a shop one day, all leather and shiny, gold-tinged pages - a collection of the Brothers Grimm and their stories. The illustrations are beautiful, hand-painted, according to the seller. Best of all, every word on every page is written in German.
He'd bought it without hesitation, taking it home to wrap in pretty paper as a surprise. Now, he carries the bundle with him as he seeks out Liesel in her new home, Green Gardens. He likes the place instantly; likes how open and free it seems. But he still doesn't see his friend.
And then it hits him. The library, of course. He makes his way inside, smiling when he finds her tucked away in a corner.
"Hello?" He calls out in German, a smile on his lips. "Anyone home?"
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"Hallo," she answers, smiling. She smooths down her skirt but doesn't stand up just yet. It's probably the more polite thing to do, but she has a feeling he might enjoy the library as much as she does.
"Just me. Do you want to sit?" she asks instead, gesturing to the seat next to her. She doesn't know if he's come to see her exactly, but her corner is a good spot of the library and she's happy enough to share, if he likes.
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"Hello," he says, pausing when he stands just before her. He's excited to see what she makes of the book. She has access to many volumes here, but Marius knows from experience how lovely it is to be able to read something in one's own native language.
"I would love to sit, thank you," he says as he takes the place she offers him. He turns, holding out the parcel for her. "I wanted to see you. I have a present for you."
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Her eyes widen a little when he says the present is for her, and she smiles a little, the corners of her mouth tilting up with pleased surprise. "For me?" she repeats, just to make sure. She's only met Marius once, surely he means to have brought a present for somebody else. But there's no one else in the library, and he's quite clearly sought her out.
Liesel's eyes flick down to the package in his arms. It looks like a book, even wrapped as it is. Her smile broadens. Back home, Liesel had a small collection of books that she treasured like nothing else, and it's been hard whenever she thinks of them all, blasted apart on Himmel Street. There are a lot of books in Darrow to read but none of them are hers, so the prospect of starting her collection again is exciting.
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"Yes, entirely for you," Marius says with a smile of his own and a nod, holding out the wrapped gift towards her. "I found it in a nice shop in town, and I couldn't pass it by because I thought of you. I do hope you'll enjoy it. It's not the sort of book you'll find in most libraries." His eyes sparkle as he speaks, eager to see Liesel's reaction to the book of fairy tales written in her own language.
He notices, then, the book she's pushed out from beneath a cushion, and he tilts his head in its direction, curious. "And what's that you've got there? A book you were reading?"
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He says it's no ordinary book, and with her curiosity piqued, Liesel can't wait anymore. She tears into the wrapping, not bothering to be neat about it, until she has the book in her hands. The book is heavy, wrapped in a beautiful leather that feels wonderful against her hands. She runs her fingers over the front and the back, eyes lighting up at the gold-tinted pages on the side. Best of all, the name on the cover is in German, and Liesel traces the words with her finger, mouthing them quietly to herself.
"Is it really for me?" she asks again, unable to believe that something so expensive-looking and important could be for her. She flicks through a few of the pages, eyes widening at the beautifully coloured illustrations. Some of the fairy tales she thinks she remembers, from when Mama used to croon them to her so many years ago. But that was before Molching, before the train, and she doesn't properly remember how the stories are meant to go. Now she'll get to read them all for herself, and in her own language, no less.
"Danke schön, Marius," she says quickly, glancing over at him. She doesn't know how to express what a wonderful gift it is, so she hopes he understands. "It's beautiful."
He looks towards her other book and Liesel glances at it, shaking her head. "Not reading," she explains. "Writing. I wanted to write a story book for one of the younger girls here." She doesn't know if Saoirse can read yet, but Liesel will read it aloud to her and give her the book to keep as something of her own, just like Max once did for her.
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The sound of her voice and the look in her eyes tells him that she seems very delighted with the gift indeed, and that makes Marius' heart soar. He might be lacking for happiness himself these days, but to be able to provide it to others lifts him up in ways that have been hard to reach as of late.
"Yes, it really is for you," he tells her, unable to keep the grin from his face. "I hope you like it."
"Your welcome," he tells her in her own language, happy that she seems pleased with the book. He worried for a moment that she might feel herself too old for fairy tales, but then he remembered that these were the stories of the Brothers Grimm, and that some of these tales got quite dark, indeed.
"That sounds lovely," he tells her when she explains the book she's working on herself. "I'm sure your friend will very much enjoy it."
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"It's wonderful," she tells him, smiling brightly. "I don't have any books of my own in Darrow, so this one will be extra special."
She'll start her collection with this, a book that was not stolen but gifted, and she'll treasure it. So often the books she's stolen have been linked to awful memories, but this book is something different. It marks something lovely, something she can remember fondly. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to pay Marius back for such a present, but she intends to try.
"I'm going to read it to her," Liesel explains. "Do you know Saoirse? She lives here, only she doesn't speak. I thought she might like listening to stories instead."
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"I don't think I've had the pleasure, no," he says, shaking his head. "But I am sure that the book you are making for her is lovely. I don't doubt that she'll love it."
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She remembers the hitch of her breath, the thud of her heart against her ribcage whenever she stole something. She remembers the way it made her feel powerful, like she was finally taking something back after everything was taken from her. Rudy never quite understood. He understood stealing well enough, but Rudy stole because he was hungry, because he wanted to impress Liesel and the older boys. For Liesel it's more about herself than the object or anybody else.
"Someone made me a book once," she tells him, her voice going a little quiet. There's no one in this city she's been able to talk to about Max. She doesn't know whether it's because it's never come up or because in some way she's still worried about saying his name aloud in case she gets in trouble, or somebody comes for him. But Max isn't here and there's no one to take him or Mama and Papa away anymore. "He painted it for me, but it didn't come here with me." The Word Shaker and The Standover Man are buried beneath layers of rubble, now, and she doesn't think she'll ever see the white painted-over pages ever again.
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"That must have been a very special book," he says, his own voice quiet. "But did you know, Darrow sometimes brings things from home for the people it brings here? So your book could show up one day, out of the blue, just like you did."
He hopes she finds comfort in the idea. He also hopes she eventually gets the book, and not, say, a devastating item from home, as has been mostly his own experience.
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She hadn't known that things could show up from home, but she considers it for a moment. If she ever wakes up to find The Word Shaker amongst her things, it will be her favourite day in Darrow yet, but she knows it will also make her a little sad. Her book could show up, maybe, but she's not so sure about Max himself. The last time she saw him, he was so thin and scared, and Liesel has no way of knowing what happened to him.
"It was special," she says, nodding. "He painted the words over the only book he ever had." She remembers asking him if it was a good book, the way he'd smiled, a little strained, and told her it saved his life. She knows a little more about it now, knows that the book held words of hate before Max covered them in white paint, but she can't help but be grateful that at least it brought him to Himmel Street.
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Painting over a book must have taken time, effort, and patience. And love, he thinks. A lot of love. He can tell, from what Liesel has said, that this must be one of her most precious treasures; the person who made it for her obviously cares about and loves her quite a lot.
"Perhaps the one who painted it might find his way to the city as well," Marius adds, smiling.
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"They took him away," she says quietly, saying the words to her knees now as she draws them up to her chest. Marius has brought her such a sweet gift and she doesn't mean to ruin things by thinking of Max, but the secrets have been piling up for years. No one but Papa ever knew what he meant to her, and neither of them are here, now.
Liesel doesn't know how Darrow works, exactly, but she doesn't know that she'll ever see Max again now. She can only hope that he got away somehow, or that he managed to survive until things were better again, like Solo promised her.