Ranth placed his hands on the cover.“Permission aperti sunt.”
The cover glowed a creamy bright white, and the bindings creaked as the lock popped open. He raised the latches and opened the book. As Ranth had guessed, the pages were older than the binding, papyrus perfectly preserved as if it were made yesterday. The writing was in a script that did not look anything like Latin.
“Could it have been copied?” I asked.
“Keep your focus,” Ranth said sharply. “It’s not Medieval Latin, it’s in Aramaic.”
He spoke in a language I didn’t understand. Something that sounded like,Could Brussel Parsnips, and the pages glowed again. But this time they glowed black.
“Is that bad?” I asked, but whispers had risen around us. One was louder than the others; another language I couldn’t translate.
Ranth’s eyes closed, and he spoke in what I guessed was Aramaic. When he opened his eyes, the stiffening of his shoulders said it hadn’t gone well.
“Did they give permission?”
“Not only does the maker not wish us to read the pages, but his price to allow us to close the book is a soul shard.”
“A what?”
“What book makers use to make a book or artifact—an energy trace that you can’t get back. I can’t give the book that because I have no living energy, and don’t even think it. I’m not letting you do it.”
“Well fine. So now what?”
“We could not agree, and he said then he would destroy the book,” Ranth said, pressing his hands together.
“But don’t we need it?”
“I can turn the page and see. In an instant, I would know if the ritual was there, but it’s a risk.” He threaded his fingers through mine, sending sparks over my skin. His voice trickled like water melting ice. “I need you to know it could end badly.”
I squeezed his fingers. “We’re in a protective space. Whatever happens, it’s confined to us.”
“I want you to move to the plane.”
“No. That will leave you alone with…”
“It will, but with my particular state, the author’s anger doesn’t affect me, and I doubt he knows that.”
“And with me planar, I can pull you in if it looks bad…” I smiled. His eyes were liquid. I appreciated him as much as he did me. We’d gotten to a place of respect, and we were a good team.
“Okay, I’m ready. On three?” He returned the squeeze and then dropped my hands.
I flipped open my pouch. “One, two…” I popped the maca into my mouth and bit down before three. The bitterness overwhelmed my senses, allowing me to rise without thought.
Ranth turned the page as I went planar. I couldn’t quite see the full result, but flames burst from the page, and he jumped up. The book tumbled from his hands.
If the fire was magical and from the planar space, maybe it wasn’t actually burning. The flames licked at Ranth’s skin as he continued to flip pages. He held up the book and uttered some words.
The burning and the whispers stopped.
We’d won. Ranth motioned to me, but I couldn’t hear what he said in the plane. I spit the root out.
Pop.
Fabra burst into the warehouse at almost the same moment as a portal opened. I rummaged for another root as Essifers spilled out in a purple haze.
Flipping Foxgloves.How could Fabra have escaped my binding? She was supposed to rest in the cemetery until I deemed otherwise. She, or someone else, must have figured out a go-around.
Technically, neither Fabra nor the Essifers could magically cross the salt line, but that only gave us an extra minute. I was pretty confident we could beat the six Essifers, but Fabra and the two muscled men who had followed her in were another story. Someone was likely going to get hurt or killed. I didn’t want to hurt Fabra, but my supplies were limited.
