Page 20 of Orc’s Grimoire

The grimoire’s pages turn one final time. The script that appears burns bright enough to cast shadows across my face.

HE HEARS YOU. HE HAS BEEN LISTENING SINCE YOU FIRST SET FOOT IN MY ARCHIVE. THE PULSE YOU WILL HEAR IN A MOMENT IS NOT MINE. AND HE IS SO VERY RAVENOUS.

A pause. Then the book slams shut. The lanterns flicker.

And in the sudden silence, I hear it.

A heartbeat.

Not the grimoire’s familiar pulse. Deeper. Stronger.

Coming from inside the pages.

“We need to leave.” I grab Korrath’s arm again—the contact sends another jolt of heat through my veins, but there’s no time to think about that. “Now.”

“I’m not running from⁠—“

“That’s not the grimoire.” My voice shakes. “That’s him. The Author. He’s waking, and if we’re still here when he emerges⁠—“

The grimoire’s cover begins to glow.

Korrath looks at the book, then at me. Understanding passes between us—not trust, not yet, but recognition. We are both in danger. We both know it.

“Move.”

We run.

Behind us, the glow intensifies. The heartbeat grows louder.

And from somewhere inside the binding, a voice begins to speak—old, deliberate, and terribly, terribly awake.

“Thyra Vire. Korrath Blackbrand.” The Author’s voice carries through the Restricted Stacks, following us as we flee toward the sealed door. “I’ve been dreaming of you for so very long. Don’t run. We have so much to discuss.”

The door slams behind us. I throw every ward I know against it, blood and magic and desperate hope.

It’s not enough. I know it’s not enough.

But it might buy us time.

Korrath stands beside me, brand still raised, breath coming hard. In the dim light of the outer Archive, his face is all sharp angles and barely contained violence.

“Three days,” he says. “That’s how long you have to find a solution. After that…”

“After that, you burn everything.”

“Yes.”

I should argue. Should fight for more time, more options, more chances to find another way.

Instead, I nod once. Sharply.

“Then we’d better get started.”

Behind the sealed door, I hear the Author laugh.

And I realize that three days might already be too long.

SIX