Half of Ruby

Chapter 29

"All right...try this one." 

Ronan groaned as Ember hefted yet another book at him. "Another one? Why can't you translate and I find the books?"

"Because," said Ember, dropping the book onto the floor and wincing as it thudded against the ground, "you insisted on translating. This isn't my fault." 

He glared at her. "Well, you can translate now. What time is it—three in the afternoon? We still haven't eaten lunch." 

"That isn't my fault, either. You said that we could eat as soon as we translate that word." 

Another anguished groan escaped Ronan's lips as he slumped forwards. Ember meandered back to the bookshelves. "Forgive me. But how are you not starving?" 

Ember teetered on the tips of her toes as she reached up towards a leather-bound red book near the top. "I, unlike you, know how to withstand hunger." 

He rolled his eyes. "No need to sound so arrogant." 

Ember frowned at the bitterness permeating his voice, but didn't argue. Hunger's just getting to him. "Here," she said, heaving volume from the shelf. "Try this one." 

She sneezed as a cloud of dust plumed up from the cove, revealing a series of strange symbols. She dropped down to her tailbone next to him, sliding the book towards him. 

"Are you sure this is a dictionary?" asked Ronan, flipping the tome open to about halfway. "All the other ones were just chunks of text and—Ember! The symbol!" 

Ember scrambled forwards. Faded black symbols curled over the pages once more, thin and cryptic. This book bore no difference to all the others they'd searched for, with its massive size and minuscule size. But large symbols towered over the rest: one she didn't recognize, and the other....

ʥơƪȹƕ

"That's it," said Ember. 

"The symbol could just be a translation of the English word you saw," said Ronan. "Phyrona." 

"Yes, but we need a translation. This might be the first time we're seeing it in text, but we still have no idea what it means." 

"Sure," said Ronan. "Actually, how about you take over translation? I'll go find more books." 

Ember nodded. "Gladly." Shaking out her rubbery arms, she squatted down by the book, lying flat on her stomach the way Ronan had. 

Just about two thousand pages left to go. Time to get searching. 

She rubbed her eyes, flipping over another page—

English. 

Ember yelped. Indeed, the page was English. 

No, not the page. Several sheets of paper—scribbled over with English—rested between the pages, tucked into the binding.  

"What?" demanded Ronan. "What happened?" 

"Look," exclaimed Ember, pointing at the pages. "There's something here in English." 

Ronan crouched down by her, frowning at the pages, and gingerly picked one up. 

"My dear Princess Vyella," he read aloud, then paused. "Vyella...what kind of name is that?" 

"Hang on," said Ember. Vyella. An awful name, but a memorable one.... "I think...I think she was the one who took my blood. Princess Vyella."