And then there’s Eiras, my loving big brother, always away when you need him, and one can’t even be properly mad at him because he’s working his ass off for us.
“Where did you get that satchel?” he asks suddenly, and I open my mouth to tell him it’s none of his business.
But then Brogan speaks for the first time since I arrived home. “Daughter, I hope you didn’t steal that bag.”
Too late to hide my flinch, I flounder, then rally again. “I didn’t steal it. Found it on the ground, as a matter of fact, in the square of the small market.” I frown at him. “Why do you sound so concerned?”
“That symbol,” he says, “that’s embossed in the leather. Did you notice?”
“Sleeping Gods,” Naida breathes, approaching me, a crease between her dark brows. “The symbol of the Library of Areon.”
“What? Are you sure?” I squint at the symbol pressed into the soft leather. “It looks like a circle with… a horned snake inside. And some strange letters. Not books. It can’t be a library symbol.”
“The Areon is not a normal library, as you well know,” she says sternly, standing with her hands on her hips. “I’ve told you about it.”
“Barely,” I mutter. “You’ve hardly ever mentioned it in all your tales, for some reason.”
“It’s just… not something I normally talk to children about.”
“I’m not a child anymore,” I gently remind her.
“You’re right. Yet you’re my daughter, and you’ll always be that ruddy-faced baby girl I found on that cold winter day.” Her eyes shimmer. Her mouth quivers and she rubs her hand over it. “I wanted to protect you. Keep you warm.”
Guilt grips my chest. “Naida…”
“But Ihavetold you some stories about the Areon. I made sure you knew what that place is. About the books it houses.”
“You said one can find magical books in any library or house,” I say, finding my voice has gone soft and quiet, “lying around undetected for long periods of time, lurking for years or centuries, until someone notices.”
It’s not Naida’s fault. I never liked those stories, never wanted to hear them even as they thrilled me. I love books, so finding myself afraid of them isn’t a good feeling.
“Yes. Sometimes, normal books awaken, become alive. Become dangerous. Sometimes it’s in the way they are used, their purpose.” Her mouth purses, the fine lines around it deepening. “And sometimes… sometimes it may be what’s inside the story that causes the magic to flare and pushes their characters to escape it.”
“How? Why?”
“We don’t know. They can’t go far, though. The monsters escaping the books can’t leave the library. They are bound to their books, and few ways exist for them to be disconnected and live an independent life in the outside world. Which is why the library is in such a desolate place, so far from towns and villages. Keeping the books chained and locked up means the monsters can’t wander far. Distance matters.”
“A good thing you don’t have to visit that library,” Eiras says with a shudder, taking a bite out of the apple he’s been toying with. “Ever.”
I nod absently.
“What’s inside the bag, daughter?” Naida is eyeing the satchel as if she’s expecting it to grow fangs and bite us. “Have you looked?”
“Not yet.” I’m surprised to find my fingers trembling as I fumble with the metal clasp. Then again, returning home to find Eiras and then discovering that this satchel has something to do with that cursed library… “Let me see.”
The clasp gives with a soft click. I lift the flap and glance inside, where a familiar rectangular shape rests. With a soft gasp, I pull it out.
It’s a book, indeed, bound in leather, a darker leather than the satchel’s, well-worn and shiny in places from use. It has embossments of various symbols but doesn’t sport a title.
“Merciful Gods.” Naida makes an abortive move toward it. “Don’t?—”
I open it to the first page and there, written in calligraphy, I finally find the title.
‘Book of Olm.’
“No!” Naida screeches, making a grab for it. “Close it, close it right now!”
With the instinct to obey her deeply ingrained in me since I was a baby, I snap the book shut, my heart pounding, and grit my teeth. “Why?”
