Books, upon books, upon books, upon books.
Her fingertips grazed each tattered tome, creating a ballet of dust captured by the light lazily glowing from the panes in the top of the tower. The musty air smelled of old paper and ink, providing a scholarly, yet reverent, atmosphere. Everything was amber, or maroon, or some sort of sepia; the mahogany shelves stretching to the ceiling were carved with runes and patterns too ancient to decipher.
There was no catalog or method of organization to the way the books were arranged, and a tall, singular ladder was the only means to reach the books near the top of the circular room. There must have been books as old as literature itself, and it was near impossible to find any in English. Manuscripts on legendary kings, the history of medicine, a biography of Aristotle, the Bible: it was quite possible that every work in Creation had a place in the tower.
There was only one answer: the library was magic.
She took in a small breath, considering the possibility. Testing her theory, she closed her eyes, picked up the nearest book, and opened the front cover. The girl opened her eyes and could not help but let out an audible gasp.
She held in her hands the exact journal she had envisioned: In Legatum de Coccino Oculos. In her sheer joy, she let a single tear escape; she had been hunting and praying for months to find the book, and now she, at long last, had it in her possession. Hurriedly stuffing it into her satchel, the girl turned to exit the tower.
Her leave-taking, however, was hindered.
"Caspian Sinclair," came a voice from the entrance, a silhouetted figure with the sun at his back, "I should have known."
YOU ARE READING
The Legacy of Ander
Mystery / ThrillerWhat do two friends at a boarding school and their professor have in common with a missing woman who has a habit of raising hell everywhere she goes? Absolutely nothing; that's why they're all so interested in the mysterious circumstances and disapp...
