It went well with the ancient, sloping floor and low ceiling. A little window looked out over the street, and it felt like living in a slice of the past that had been combined with a cozy present. Far better than my cold, lonely flat in the dodgy part of London.
I met Seraphia’s gaze and gestured to the couch. “Have a seat. Would you like a cup of tea?”
Seraphia thrust the book at me. “No. I want you to look at this.”
“Sure.” I gestured to the small, round table in the corner that served as my dining area. “You can put it there.”
I didn’t want to touch it until I knew the nature of her problem. The last thing I needed was to be hit by an unexpected vision. Or worse, one over which I had no power. I still didn’t have a lot of control over my magic, but I was getting better.
Seraphia set the book on the table. Her shoulders relaxed, as though she was rid of an unsavory burden. She turned to me. “I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but this problem…”
“Is bigger than a cup of tea?” Mac asked.
“Exactly.”
“Tell me about it.” I took a seat on the couch, my legs still a bit wobbly from earlier.
She sat on the other side, and Carrow took the cushy armchair in the corner.
“I work at the library, as I told you,” Seraphia said. “It’s a quiet life. Mostly taking care of the collection and answering questions. And we do have some dangerous books, like the hexanaries I mentioned. But mostly it’s just me and the stacks. Nothing ever happens.”
“Until that book happened.” I looked at it, my curiosity rising. “What’s it called?”
“A Most Elucidating History of Guild City. I’ve never read it. Didn’t even know it was in the collection, in fact. Until I felt it. This dark magic signature…”
“It came from the book?” I looked at the tome, unable to sense anything from that far away.
“Exactly. It’s faded now, but it’s still there if I touch it.” Confusion flickered in her eyes. “Some pages were torn out.”
“Recently?”
“I don’t know. Could have been a long time ago.”
“Anything else you should tell me before I handle it?”
She shook her head. “Just that it felt like death itself when I touched it the first time. Like it was trying to tear my heart straight out of my chest.”
I winced.
“Exactly.” She nodded. “It was terrible. I’ve never felt anything like it, which is why I wanted you to look at it.”
“Why me and not a seer?”
“I’ve heard how you saved Guild City, and you seemed like the perfect person for the job.”
“Well, hopefully, I can figure out what’s wrong with your book.” My mind flashed to payment. It was a normal businessperson thing, to ask for money for a service rendered. It was half the reason I’d started this business, in fact. I needed to be paid for my work if I wanted to stay on top of my rent. But how did one ask for payment from someone who is in trouble?
As if she could read my thoughts, she asked. “What is your fee?”
“I suppose that depends on who is paying.” I’d charge the Devil of Darkvale—Grey, as I now thought of him—a hell of a lot more because he was rich as Croesus. But someone who didn’t have a lot of money? I’d charge them less.
“I can afford it,” Seraphia said. “Or at the very least, the library can. The book is from their collection, after all.”
“Then we’ll work it out after the fact.”
I rose and strode over to the book.
My skin prickled with awareness at the slight pulse of dark magic coming from the leather and paper.
“You might want to sit,” Seraphia said. “First time I touched it, I fell on my arse.”
I took her advice and slid into a chair, feeling their gazes on me. I drew in a breath, focusing on the object in front of me and on the magic welling inside me.
Control.
I needed to see what I wanted to see. Not whatever blasted out at me.
I looked at Seraphia. “What do you most want to know about this book and its dark magic?”
“Why now? It’s been in the collection for years, I think. So why is it now saturated in evil? And who took the pages out of it? Why?”
I nodded, then turned back to the book and ran the question through my mind.
Tell me why.
The book seemed to pull at me, an unnatural tug that I’d never felt before. As my fingertips grazed the smooth leather cover, pain slammed into me, followed by a vision of the city wall. I gritted my teeth and kept contact with the book, trying to narrow in on the vision.
Where was this?
Somewhere in Guild City, definitely. I recognized the large stone blocks that made up our city wall. They had been laid in a distinctive pattern and occasionally seemed to shimmer with magic. This was definitely Guild City…but where?
I tried to memorize the stones, then opened my eyes. The interior of the book called to me, and I flipped it open, searching for the missing pages.
Dark magic seeped from the book, coating the air in a sickening, oily sheen, and I held my breath as I laid my fingertips on the stumps of the torn pages.
Who did this?
Nothing, not so much as a hint, as if there were a steel wall between me and the information.
“It’s protected by a charm,” I said. “Someone has used magic to conceal their actions.”
“What did the pages used to say?” Seraphia asked.
I asked the question and once again hit the same wall. “I don’t know. That information is hidden from me.” The vision of the wall flickered in my mind. “But I’m seeing a section of the city wall. I think our answers are there. It’s…pulling at me.”
It felt wholly unnatural. Cursed.
I shuddered.
What the hell was going on?
2
Carrow
“Let’s go find it,” Mac said.
I withdrew my hand from the tome and nodded, trying to shake off the sickly feeling. “Yeah, our answers are definitely there.”
“Where, exactly?” Seraphia asked.
“A section of the city wall, but where precisely…I’m not sure.” I closed the leather cover, still feeling the pull from the city wall, and stood. “I think I can find it.”
Seraphia jumped off the couch. “I’m coming.”
I nodded at her and grabbed the book, holding it away from me. Just touching it made me feel queasy.
“Let me get a bag.” I hurried to my little bedroom, which was already cluttered with clothes. The books that my dead friend Beatrix had given me had pride of place on the bedside table.
Quickly, I rifled through the old armoire that Mac had found at a car boot sale—only magic could fit an armoire into a car boot—and found the leather messenger bag inside. I stuffed the book into it, grateful to feel the magic dim.
I returned to the living room, and the three of us hurried down the stairs, spilling out onto the street. Fortunately, the rain had slowed to a faint drizzle, and the early afternoon sun was trying to peek through the clouds.
“So all you could see was a section of the city wall?” Seraphia asked.