But then I actually looked at what I was holding.
Okay. This was kind of cool.
The book was massive. Leather-bound, cracked but somehow still soft, worn in that way that meant it had been loved. There was no title. Just weird symbols pressed into the cover. Symbols that almost seemed to shimmer, but that was probably the storm playing tricks with the lighting.
The pages were gilded. When I cracked it open, everything inside was handwritten. Elaborate script that looked impossibly precise. More symbols. Illustrations of moons and stars and geometric patterns that made my eyes hurt if I stared too long.
Was that a wolf?
My finger kept bleeding, leaving red smears across the pages, but I was too fascinated to care about tetanus. This was peak Halloween creepy. Exactly the vibe we needed.
“Oh, you’re definitely coming with me, you weird, creepy, perfect thing.” I tucked the book under my arm and headed back to the reading nook.
The lights flickered again as I walked. Thunder boomed. Very atmospheric. Very ominous. Very much the kind of warning sign people ignored in movies right before they died horribly.
I was grinning when I got back to the others. They were already gathered around the coffee table with their finds. Krystin had a first edition of something I couldn’t read from here. Daphne had what looked like a poetry collection. Bella was clutching a romance novel with a shirtless man on the cover and refusing to make eye contact.
“Guys!” I announced, dropping my book onto the table with a satisfying thud. “Drop whatever you found because mine’s going to blow yours out of the water.”
They crowded in immediately. Krystin leaned over, eyebrows raised. “Is that blood?”
“Yep. The book attacked me. We’re bonded now.”
“Should we be touching this?” Bella’s voice had gone up an octave. She was leaning in but keeping her hands carefully away. “It looks cursed.”
“Bells, literally everything in this store looks cursed. That’s part of the charm.” I flipped open the cover. “Look at this. It’s all handwritten. These symbols are insane.”
Daphne made a noise that was almost a gasp. Her fingers hovered over the page, not quite touching. “This is beautifully haunting. Dark Academia meets witchcraft. Wen, where did you find this?”
“Grandpa’s creepy corner. I’m pretty sure it’s been there since the dawn of time.”
We flipped through pages together. The script was old-fashioned, swooping and elaborate. Mixed in with English were phrases that might have been Latin. The illustrations grew more complex the further we went. Moons in different phases. Herbs I didn’t recognize. Geometric patterns that seemed to shift when you weren’t looking directly at them.
Outside, the storm kicked into high gear. Rain pounded the windows. Thunder made the building shake. The lights flickered again, staying off for a beat too long before coming back.
“This is a spell book,” Bella whispered. She’d gone pale. “Wen. This is an actual grimoire.”
“Of course Wen finds a spell book on Halloween.” Krystin laughed, but even she looked unsettled. “Your life is a YA novel.”
“I live to entertain.” I kept flipping pages. My bloody fingerprints were all over them now. Oops. “Look, there are protection spells. Divination. Summoning circles. And oh my god.”
We’d reached a section that was clearly dedicated to love spells. Because of course. The universe had a sense of humor.
Daphne started reading aloud in her most dramatic voice, the one she used when she wanted to sound like a gothic heroine. “‘To call forth the one whose soul mirrors thine own. To bind across realms what fate has joined. To summon thy true match through veil and void.’”
I was dying. Actually dying. This was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever seen.
“Oh my GOD. It’s a ‘summon your soulmate’ spell. We have to try it. For science.”
Krystin snorted. “Science. Right.”
“I’m serious! When else are we going to get the chance to test if magic is real? It’s Halloween. We have a spell book. I already gave it a blood sacrifice.” I waved my still-bleeding finger. “We’re like ninety percent there.”
Bella was shaking her head, eyes wide. “Maybe we shouldn’t mess with this. What if it actually works?”
“Bells. Baby. Magic isn’t real. The worst thing that happens is we feel silly.” I found the main page. It was more elaborate than the others. A full illustration of two figures reaching for each other across what looked like a tear in reality. Symbols surrounded them. At the bottom, in slightly more readable script: “To call forth the one whose soul mirrors thine own.”
I couldn’t stop laughing. This was too perfect.
