“But if the Archweaver discovered this?—”
She cuts me off quickly. “He canneverknow about this. This will be our secret.” She turns the pages in my numb hands, gazing down at the three different handwritings that fill the pages. “We spent decades trying to solve the black flame, to learn why it burns so cold and kills all who wield it. When we couldn’t, we moved on to other mysteries, like why the family lines are withering away. Why Duals are culled. Why threads cannot wield conflicting sources of magic.”
She closes the book. “From now on, the two of us will meet in the dead of night here and I will teach you what I can of the art of rune creation. And when you are with the Bauers, Rossana will teach you the tricks of blood magic and how it can strengthen your spells.”
I shake my head. “There are only so many permutations and all the ones that work have already been discovered. You can’t create new runes.”
“Correction, most weavers cannot, for they are unable to look into the complexities of magic and perceive the threads of the divine that spin together to form something new. They cannot see because they will not open their eyes. Out of the three of us, Gildra was the only one who mastered this craft. I believe you have inherited this innate skill from her. Now I will open your eyes and you will save yourself. You will save us all.”
A pulse beats against my hand. A heart that thumps but does not exist. A woven masterpiece of magic the likes of which no weaver grimoire ever could imagine.
A secret. A priesthood notebook holding two thousand years of whispered lore passed from mother to daughter, buried under my hand within the wall so that no one can ever destroy it.
My mother’s secret legacy and the runes I created to hold it all together. Forbidden magic that I wielded so effortlessly, without the rules of the Order to hold me back.
CHAPTER 9
Hours later, I still have no plan and my closed shop is losing precious business by the minute, worsening my mood. The only good thing to come out of today is discovering that sleeping and eating regularly and drinking something that isn’t tea have permitted me to regenerate enough magic to be able to function again. So infuriating. Why they haven’t invented a potion that doesn’t wreck the gut to replace such trivial tasks is beyond me.
I glare down the stacks before stretching my arms out towards them. With a long exhale, I attempt to quiet my mind. My voice hums with magic but still rasps. “Transformative object curse-break, cross-reference spider.”
About twenty books come exploding out of the stacks. I scream hoarsely and shield my head with my arms. Hard spines ricochet off my forearms, leaving behind bright red welts. “Shit! Not all at once!”
“Maybe you should be more specific.”
I glare viciously at Lucas. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind, asshole.”
Lucas saunters forward from the stacks with a bowl of the subpar soup I managed to concoct with my limited groceries. Hetakes a slurp before frowning. With a wince, Lucas’ rings flare to life. The bowl steams.
“Hey!” I point an accusatory finger at him. “What part of ‘no magic’ is your small, male brain not comprehending? You need to let the connection between your rings and body heal.”
“I’m fine.”
I roll my eyes so hard they ache. He disappears into the back room and drags out one of the wooden chairs. Plopping into it, he leans back on the hind two legs and kicks his feet up on my front counter. My lip curls humorlessly and his smirk grows.
Forcing myself to turn away from him, I flick my hand towards the pile of books. “I’m being vague because I’m finding nothing useful.” Twenty books spin around me, their spines creaking when they open. Pages flutter and I run my finger over the words revealed. My hair shifts in the light breeze. “While you were lazing about in bed, I’ve been hard at work trying to find a way to subdue the spider. I’ve already tried searching for incantations, but there’s nothing powerful enough to take onThe Arachnomicon.” I send two books back to the stacks.
Lucas chugs the broth and uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. “So, are you thinking an amulet?”
I nod distractedly. “Something like that, where we can slap it on the stupid thing to bind it.”
The porcelain clatters when he sets down his empty bowl. “Did you try searching amulet?—”
“Obviously!” I set three books on the counter. Only fifteen more to go.
“What about binding chains?—”
My temper flares. “How about you flip through the books I set aside instead of telling me to do things I’ve already done?”
His rings glow, and I almost throw a book at him. “With your hands!” I hiss under my breath, “Idiot.”
Lucas huffs a low laugh. “You’re in a mood today.”
My lips thin. In the back of my mind,two weeksresounds like the whisper of death. “Just start reading.”
Lucas makes it all of ten seconds. “Is it because you’re feeling insecure without the vault?”
My shoulders stiffen.
