Hesitantly, she reached into her satchel and pulled out the grimoire and put it on the table between them. It looked just like the sketches in Merlin’s journal. The runes carved into the cover radiated a power more ancient than anything he’d ever come across.
Without thinking, he reached for it. It slid backward, closer to Muriel, and emitted a low, hum.
He pulled his hands back immediately.
ItwastheCodexAnimarum. He’d bet his shop on it.
And it had chosen Muriel as its keeper.
“Do you recognize it?” she asked.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve never seen it before,” he said honestly, “but if it’s what I think it is, it’s a thousand times more valuable than theLiber Terrae.”
Muriel paled.
“Remember what I said about magical items finding the right owners? This one has chosen you.”
“Why me? Why now?”
“My guess is, it has something to do with your bloodline. As for the why now, magical items are often concealed until the time is right for them to make themselves known. Based on what you’ve told me, the book believes the time has come for you to know. Those visions it showed you might be warnings.”
“Warnings,” she echoed softly. “Can a book be prescient?”
“Magical history is filled with objects that have been imbued with predictive spells. Let me ask you this: does it feel... alive? Like it has a will of its own?”
Muriel's eyes widened even as the book appeared to swell and deflate like it was taking a breath. “Yes. How did you know?”
“Because books that old, that powerful, develop a kind of sentience.” He paused, watching her carefully. “Has it shown you anything else?”
“No. Only those visions when I first found it. But I canfeelit.”
“What does the energy feel like? Is it dark? Oily?”
“No, nothing like that. It feels… familiar. Comforting. Like it’s mine, if that makes sense.”
“It does. Especially if it was bespelled with blood magic.” When Muriel’s eyes widened, he clarified, “Blood as in lineage, not sacrifice. It recognizes you as the rightful heir. I doubt it would have revealed itself to you otherwise.”
The rapid decay of the nearby fern stopped as she processed that.
“Did anything else unusual happen after you found the book?”
She bit her bottom lip. “Someone came to my house the next day.”
“Someone you know?” he prompted.
“No, but he seemed to know me. He said his name was Silas Corvus, and that he’d known my mother. He also told me my magic would become unmanageable unless someone like him taught me to control it.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. He left me his card and...” She looked up at him, and the fear in her eyes made his chest ache, even as the temperature around them dropped significantly and an icy breeze swirled around them, scattering the dead leaves.
Her magic was spiraling. Instinctively, he covered her hands with his, sending soothing energy through the points of contact.
“A witch’s greatest defense is her intuition. Youwere right to listen to it,” he said firmly, holding her gaze. “Right now, in this moment, you're safe. I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you understand?”
She nodded shakily and drew in a breath. Then another. Slowly, the air grew calm once again and the temperature returned to normal.
“Better?” he asked, reluctantly removing his hands.