Vellum and Green Vitriol
Copyright © 2007, S. Y. Affolee
The Final Conjuration
Seal XL
The shelves loomed, silent sentinels in the unlit library. We had made our way back to the section of old alchemical texts and grimoires that we had been searching through earlier. Except this time, with no one in the library except us, there would be no distractions. Rhys had taken another book from a shelf on the opposite side of the room, some screed on political hierarchies, and had applied an illumination spell to it so I could use it as a lantern to see what I was doing.
As I was flipping through yet another tome on devil summoning," I said, "About that bet."
"What bet?" He was sitting on the floor hunched over another volume.
Since I was leaning against the shelf, I looked down at him, his face lit from below by the glowing religious tract. "The poker game we played back on the train. I won."
"How could I forget? You have yet to claim your prize."
"What spell were you planning to give me?"
His mouth curved. "I think I shall let you find out when you finally decide to let me give it to you."
"Vicious tease." I flipped a couple more pages. I had placed my own book lantern on a shelf above my head so that the light would shine down into the book I was examining. "I was hoping that it would be a practical spell. Like your finding spell. Or this illumination spell."
"Trust you to think of the practicalities. But where's the fun in the practical?"
"You're thinking about giving me a spell that is completely useless, aren't you? I can just imagine it now, some sort of talisman for summoning a particularly troublesome demon from the fifth circle of hell."
"That would be ironic, wouldn't it? You were penned by a monk."
"Not entirely."
"That's right. You had some owners who added some more spells to you."
Thor stirred on my shoulder. First he stretched and pricked my shoulder with claws. His ears swiveled, trying to catch any noise.
Rhys looked up. "You say that you only have shielding spells. But you do have some for attacking, don't you?"
I thought about what I did to the Baron the other day. "I suppose I could use them in that way. On a very short range basis, though."
The cat suddenly pounced on the book I was holding and used it as a launch pad to fly to the floor.
"Hey!"
Thor raced out of our section of the stacks as if he had suddenly scented some particularly elusive prey skittering about in the library.
I closed the book and took up another. "That cat is completely incomprehensible. I mean, it's a pamphlet, a small book, right? One would think that a book would know somewhat what another book might be thinking."
"Do you know what I'm thinking?"
A page rustled under my fingers. "Now that you put it that way, no, not precisely. But I can guess. Sometimes anyway."
There was a bit of silence except for the occasional movement of pages while we looked through our respective texts. I did not find any sorcerous residue on any of the pages I had turned, which made me wonder if Blackthorne's trail had gone cold.
"When I find Blackthorne and you find your earlier edition, what will you do?" he asked quietly.
I looked over at him, but he seemed absorbed in his search. "I don't know. Go back to Colchester and work as a research assistant for a history professor. I will continue to search for the other editions--there are others aside from the seventh. I had heard rumors about another edition in France, but nothing had come out of them so far."
"Ah, was that why you made the remark about the Sun King's court a while back? And the crossing of the Channel?"
"That was centuries ago. I'm sure the lead from those rumors has completely disappeared by now. I didn't find my then either when the lead was hot. What will you do after you find Blackthorne?"
"I will dispose of him," he replied, his tone icy. "The world has no need for power hungry sorcerers without qualms."
I found myself shivering. With me, Rhys had been mostly salacious, accommodating, lackadaisical, and, well, warm. But sometimes, like now, when he revealed the other facet of himself, I wondered if he had any qualms either.
A small noise--like that of a shattering tea cup--jolted me from my position. Hurriedly, I stuck the book I had been examining back onto the shelf and took down the book lantern. I tucked it underneath my coat and strained my ears.
"What is it?" Rhys had gotten up from his position on the floor and had put his text back. He still held his book lantern, illuminating the area between us.
"I heard something. I think there's someone in this library with us."
"It's Thor, you mean. Perhaps he knocked over a lamp in his attempt to catch a mouse."
"Have you ever known the cat to hunt rodents?"
"Well, I've never seen any evidence that Thor has any hunting skills, but that may be because he is more discrete about it. He's always begged for milk from me."
I wasn't swayed. And my suspicions were partially confirmed when I saw the black fur ball race back into our small alcove in an agitated state--definitely not the sort of behavior one saw in a predator during a hunt. The cat pawed at my feet, then at Rhys, and paced about while silently baring his teeth.
"What's wrong with him? Has he gone mad?"
Thor suddenly took a flying leap toward the wall as if were to smash himself onto the stone. Even in the dim light, I saw the wall shift as if the shadows playing upon it had taken up a consciousness of their own. The cat disappeared through the wall.
Running footsteps echoed elsewhere in the library. The footsteps were heading in our direction.
"Damn it, I think we've been found." Rhys shoved the book lantern he held into a pocket in his greatcoat.
"But how? It was only Thor wandering..."
Before I could completely finish the sentence, Rhys had grabbed my arm and shoved me into the wall.
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