Out of the corner of her eye, a disappearing flash of orange told her the cat had hopped down and scurried beneath the bed skirt out of harm’s way.
Once the entire book was aglow with ethereal light, it pulled against her grip, trying to break free. The leather grew hot, as though she was trying to hang onto a burning star, so hot that she had no choice but to let go.
Both book and pendant should have fallen to the floor. But they didn’t.
Instead, they levitated before her, still glowing. Then, the glow faded away and the book and locket thumped to the floor.
Hazel heard the click of the lock before it really registered. It hit her as she watched the lock fall open.
After all this time spent fighting this ancient tome, willing it to open, she’d been wearing the key.Go figure.
She picked it up, afraid to open it. What if the binding failed? What if the pages turned to dust?
But she thought about what had got her into this mess in the first place. She was searching for answers about her mother. This book had called out to her in a locked, abandoned library she stumbled into by chance. And now, the book had responded favorably to a locket she’d inherited from her mother.
No, it couldn’t be chance. It wasFate.
Hazel inhaled sharply as she opened the cover.
Everything was written in the runic language. An ancient, dead language, forced out of use when the witches were pushed into exile beyond the Border.
A forbidden language.
The language of magic.
She carefully turned the page, and to her horror, a page fell out. It fluttered to the floor like a dying butterfly before coming to rest at her feet.
Shit. This was exactly what she’d hoped to avoid. But when she stooped to pick it up, Hazel’s heart stopped.
This page wasn’t written in runes. And it appeared to be a letter.
My dearest daughter,
If you are reading this, it means you’ve taken up the chase, just like I always knew you would. I did my best to leave you breadcrumbs, with the hope that we would be reunited someday. Though I fear some will be lost to time or mice before you find them. My time here is growing short, so I leave you with this: never stop seeking the truth. You are the light in the darkness. Do not let them snuff you out.
I’ll see you on the other side.
Love,
Mother
Hazel collapsed to her knees, unable to comprehend what she’d read. Holy gods. Her mother. Her mother had been here.And she’d been alive long enough to explore the castle. To leave notes in strange books and lock them with magic.
Her heart yearned to tell someone. But there was no one to tell. Slaide came to mind, but she couldn’t trust him. Zeke? It probably wouldn’t be safe to tell him either, not as long as he continued chasing fame among the knighthood.
Hazel wouldn’t risk telling Phaedra, lest the angel have the truth beaten out of her. Hazel had no doubt the angel would keep her secrets, but at what cost? No, that wasn’t fair.
She flipped through the book, checking for clues. While there were none, she did come across illustrations depicting angels, witches, humans, and kings. Times of war and times of apparent peace. And through those illustrations, Hazel understood what she had in her hands.
A history book.
Her thoughts flitted to the pendant, having forgotten it in her haste to open the book. It was resting on the floor where it fell. And it was open.
She picked it up, expecting to find something life-changing within.
But it was empty.
She spenthours in her room, alternating between rereading her mother’s note and examining the illustrations throughout the book. Even without reading the words, there was so much she’d never known. So much most of the kingdom probably didn’t know. Books like these were removed from the public eye. If they existed at all, they were in the Citadel’s forbidden libraries.
