“How?” Silas steps toward her, and I grab his arm to keep him at a distance. “How can you ignore something like that?”
“Because I haven’t felt his tug or heard him in almost three days.”
My legs go numb, and I try not to show the panic on my face. Oak keeps his head low, not wanting to interject, and Rose shuffles to the kitchen, likely to pretend to make something.
“Why didn’t you say anything, Fenmore? This isn’t a game.” Silas furrows his brow. “I know this is unfortunate for you, and you feel torn, but this is serious. Keeping things from us can result in our loss.”
“This is my life, Silas.”
“It can lead to our realm turning to shit. This also affects all our lives.”
She doesn’t respond.
I walk toward her and pause. “Can you try to speak to him now?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Why?”
“It’s like there’s nothing there for me to search for. I’ve tried, but it’s dimmed so low that in the darkness I can’t find him—I can’t hear him.”
“I refuse to believe he’s gone.” I turn to Silas and Oak. “He is stronger than that. I know he is.”
Oak stands. “What do you suggest we do?”
I turn and race down the hallway leading to Silas’s room. I cross the threshold and crash to my knees before the small table in the sitting area, where the large red book sits like a beacon in the night. I flip open the book, and a shudder runs up my spine. The thick, worn pages of the ancient book feel heavy against my fingers, and even though my senses scream, I turn each page, desperate to see anything that might help.
I hear footsteps behind me and turn to see Oak and Silas race around the corner after me.
“I can’t read any of this,” I rage.
“We can try,” Oak says.
Ancient texts, markings, and pictures cover each page, yet none of them make sense to me. Oak stands over my shoulder, trying to glance through the leather book as I do, hoping he might decipher something. My fingers can’t move fast enough, flipping through each page, and a sharp pain shoots through my finger. I wince and jerk my hand back, watching a drop of blood fall to the ground beside me.
“Ouch,” I hiss, putting my finger in my mouth to stop the bleeding.
The pages come to a halt, and I freeze, staring at a page written in a language I can’t understand. Oak leans in closer and squints his eyes. He retrieves his glasses from his breast pocket and places them low on his nose.
“Hang on,” he whispers, and leans in closer to the text.
Fen enters the room and joins us, plopping down in one of the nearby chairs. I offer her a soft smile, despite my system being on fire with anxiety. She watches Oak with a burning intensity as he studies the page.
She leans forward. “What does it say?”
“This is the first time I’m seeing this book, and my Gods it’s fucking old,” he says, and places his glasses on his head as he looks up from the text.
My heart thunders in my chest, and anticipation creeps up into my throat.
Oak shakes his head. “I can’t read this. I had just begun studying this ancient text when we left for the trials in Daramveer. I’m not skilled enough to read anything in this book, to my knowledge.”
My shoulders slacken, and Fen sits back against the tall cushions.
“But, I know someone who can,” Oak says cheerfully, trying to give us an ounce of hope.
“Who?” I ask.
“My grandfather,” Oak replies. “He was the one who taught me when we were in Brinkym. He should be able to read most of this book.”
