“There. It should be fixed.”
Hiram accepts the books and flips one open to the page that was scrambled. All the letters are back where they belong. The librarianwill be relieved. When he opens Grace’s book to the page that was scrambled, he pauses, looking back and forth between them.
The scrambled words are on the same topic.
“What do you know about Sight Unseen?”
“It’s a ritual that steals Sight from one person, but at a terrible cost. If it is cast on a Seer, it will render them Unseen. If cast on a Mage ... it depends. When performed on the wrong person, it tricks the caster into believing it worked, but there are signs, warnings they do not sense, because they are blinded by their stolen Sight and power,” Clinton explains.
“What type of signs?”
“Disturbances in the Cosmos. Unnatural events.”
Hiram frowns. “What about flowers that grow out of concrete?”
“I see where you are going with this,” Clinton replies slowly. “It is plausible.”
“Spider lilies are thought to be a warning used to foreshadow an upcoming death. It doesn’t get clearer than that.”
“The only other thing I know is that the ritual is akin to a drug. The more it’s done, the weaker the high is and the shorter it lasts. They will always chase the first one, and the incessant use of raw magic will run them into the ground. Fortunately, there is no known record of it ever being cast correctly, likely due to the misinterpretation of the ritual.”
Hiram isn’t so sure about that. “Someone scrambled that specific page of Grace’s book about Sight Unseen, as well as the book here. There’s no telling when the hexes were done, but as random as it seems, they might be linked.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Clinton says.
“Is the name Ariadne Byers familiar to you? I saw it in a log, and I vaguely recognized it, but can’t recall why.”
Clinton’s expression softens. “From many years ago. I will look into it.”
“Thank you.”
“You are curious about something that is beyond you.” A flash of intrigue streaks across his features. “The Cosmos are,indeed, shifting.”
“No, they’re not.”
His denial makes Clinton smile. “I was wondering what was changing the trajectory of events, and believed it to be the movements happening beyond my limits. Now, I realize it’syoubeginning to show your face.”
Hiram tenses. “Where did you hear that?”
“Khadijah had a vision recently of you hearing this.”
“Yeah, I did. In April.”
“Ah.” Clinton can’t disguise his intrigue. “It’s rare for her to have visions about the past. This is fascinating. The future is, indeed, changing.”
“No, it isn’t.” Hiram collects the books and stands. “Thanks for this, but consider it the last favor I ask of you.”
“Oh, how wrong you are. You will see.”
Clinton’s smile is the last thing Hiram sees when he walks out. The frost reforms on the glass, closing the chapter on a strange encounter. After delivering the book to the librarian, who nearly sobs in relief, Hiram sends a message to Gabriel with pictures of the text from both books. He’s walking out when he spies Clinton nearing the door, his hand on another librarian’s arm. Waiting for him to leave is an option, but why should he? As he passes the pair, Clinton’s comment stops Hiram mid-step.
“There he is, my ride.”
“Actually—”
“Oh! Mr. Ellis. Perfect. I was just escorting him out now that his allotted time was complete.” The librarian is already pulling away. “Next time, please use our Seer log to record your entrance.”
“Must have slipped my mind.” Clinton adds a frail quality to his voice Hiram knows is fake. The act falls the moment the librarian is out of earshot. “I’ll give you directions.”
