“This was reenchanted into English at some point,” Petra observed. “Maybe by Jean-Claudia.”
“Why is it titled ‘To make’?” I asked. “Shouldn’t it be calledCompendium Floracantus, Volume Two or something?”
“It iscurious,” Petra agreed.
I turned the page, and we repeated the process of making the ink visible.
The word at the top read Aldrovandi.
“Aldrovandi?” I asked.
“It’s a name. I have a feeling we’re about to discover who authored theCompendium Floracantusand theVanished Compendium. There have been theories, of course, but it’s never been confirmed. They didn’t put their names in the first volume.”
“Probably didn’t want it traced back to them if it fell into the wrong hands, since they were letting the first book be distributed among magical botanists.”
Below the name, a list appeared of steps and ingredients as if portraying a recipe, but it was written in convoluted language.
“Are these instructions for something?”
Petra pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. It doesn’t look anything like the format in the originalCompendium Floracantus.”
We turned the page and repeated the process. The word at the top of that one was Cesalpin.
“Another name,” Petra murmured. Another riddle-like list appeared below, with similar but slightly different instructions, none of which made sense.
I touched Petra’s arm, my heart racing. “Cesalpin was the last name of the tree affinity botanist who helped us break the Floracantus on the tree that was blocking the quill’s locating features.”
“That doesn’t seem like a coincidence,” Petra said. “I am not surprised that another Renaissance-era descendant knewthe Floracantus that would help you with the tree. Do you think he knew anything about this book?”
I shook my head as I recalled my conversation with Oren. “Just old family tales and rumors, like much of the society.”
We continued page by page until a name appeared that made me suck in a breath—da Vinci.
“Leonardo da Vinci was one of the authors of theCompendium Floracantus?” I breathed.
“The timing makes sense,” Petra said. “Most scholars date the book back between five and six hundred years.”
My eyes jumped to the few lines of text below my ancestor’s name. Like the notes on the other pages, it had been enchanted into English.
With two hands, we gather power.
Bring each botanical gift to center.
Lay to canvas. Sprinkle light. Make the new creation bright.
I pondered the text, trying to make sense of it. “Do you understand this?” I asked after a few moments had passed.
“It reads like a riddle. Da Vinci was known for creating those, I believe. They called them prophecies and used them to entertain courtiers.” Petra’s head tilted slightly as she studied the page. “I think they were known to be a bit of a stretch, though. This might prove rather hard to interpret.”
“But what are these riddles for? Did each Renaissance botanist leave the instructions for their favorite Floracantus in riddle form?” That idea didn’t seem right.
Something tightened in my chest as my stomach sank. TheVanished Compendiumwasn’t what we’d thought. It wasmarvelous, to be sure, and a priceless piece of magical botanical history. But unlike the originalCompendium Floracantus, it clearly wasn’t stuffed full of ready-to-use enchantments. Would it still be able to help us save the academy?
Petra continued to flip through the pages until she finally revisited the first one. “To make,” she said then looked up, staring into space. “I wonder…”
I waited, letting her work through her thoughts.
“I wonder if these are instructions for how to make Floracantus.”
