I tilted the book to show both her and Maisie the sentence still written there, but I could not take my eyes off the writing. I was scared that if I did, it would disappear.
“Are you sure it’s your mom’s? I mean, itcan’tbe, right? It’s not possible,” Simone asked, staring at the page.
I shifted the book in my arms and rolled up my right sleeve to show my wrist right next to the page.
Tattooed there wasLove you more, my baby Byrdin the same floral cursive as what was written with a heart drawn around the words. It was how my mom had signed every birthday card she had ever given me. Everett had let me get it when I was sixteen as my first tattoo, one of many for my mom and Pops. I got it on my wrist so I would always wear that part of my heart on my sleeve for the world to see.
“I’m positive it’s hers. Look at the way that baby Byrd is written. It’s the exact same. Only my mom can write like that. It’s her. Ithasto be.”
“But that’s impossible,” Maisie said, barely above a whisper herself but in pure disbelief as she looked between my tattoo and the book.
She was right. Itshouldbe impossible. Magic in our world made almost anything possible, but the emphasis is onalmost. Magic could not make you fall in love with somebody—it could make you fall in lust but not love. Magic could not make you go against your own will and do something you weren’t going to do already. If you were cut by a knife, magic couldn’t make you think you were shot, but it could make you think you were cut by paper or a branch instead. Magic had rules, and this was the most serious one: magic could not bring back the dead in any capacity. So, how was this possible? How was my mom able to talk to me when she had been dead for fourteen years?
“Are we sure this book isn’t cursed?” Simone asked.
“Curses and hexes don’t work like this.” Maisie shook her head. “They both have clear signs of their existence and clear ways to break them. A curse has to state what it is, what caused it, and how to break it, even if it is a riddle or something. It hassome sign of its existence like a smell or magic coming off it or something. A hex functions the same way. You canseeit. Or at least I always can. They don’t just make thingsappear. This is something else entirely.”
“So, if it isn’t cursed or hexed, what does that mean? What is it then? I mean, it’s obviously connected to Byrd since only she can open the book and it has her family tree in it and her mom’s writing. But she’s human, so how is any of this possible—” Simone rambled on as she often did when she was thinking things out.
Maisie held her hands out. “Bee, do you mind if I take a look at the book?”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” I passed the book over to her without a second thought. As the book left my arms, my necklace cooled, and the cold returned to gnaw at me. The book had felt at home in my arms, and I found myself missing it and wishing I had never let it go. First, Everett. Next, it only opening for me. Then it having my family tree and that sentence from my mom. Now, this weird protective feeling? What’s up with this freaking book?
Maisie turned the pages. As she did, Simone asked. “Did you see any other writing in the book, Byrd?”
“I mean, yes and no. There’s indents on the page. It’s almost like someone wrote on the paper or like they erased what they put on there? I’m not sure.”
“That’s so strange!”
“Not as strange as this,” Maisie said, stopping at the end of the book. There, the inside was covered with the most complex runes I had ever seen.
At their heart, runes were spells for objects. They were usually simple symbols carved or written by witches onto things to make them do certain tasks. Things from towels to mugs to technology to buildings to whatever else were mass-magicked with runes so that Cleo could interact with them and move themto and fro. Although I wasn’t a witch and Maisie was sure to have already seen more runes than I would in my lifetime, I had seen my fair share at work at the Archive, since it ran off of them. But those runes were simple and benign. They usually had a few lines making a distinct but small symbol, and they were the size of a normal house key. They only served a few boring purposes to make the library more efficient. Every book, along with all the technology and furniture, had at least a couple that I had to wave my hand over to make do their job.
The rune in the back of this book was nothing like that.
This rune wasmassive. It spread across the whole back cover from one end to the other with more lines criss-crossing together than I could even follow. The entire rune was an incredibly intricate pattern of lines, dots, and geometric shapes. Small symbols from an ancient language filled the gaps in the overall rune, and those looked closer to the runes I was used to. Still, they were more detailed than anything I had ever seen. Runes within runes, it looked like someone had added extra notes in to add to the spell. As complex as it was, there was some strange beauty in its chaos. It was as breathtaking as it was confusing. There was also power in its secrets.
“This is insane. I have never seen runes this old and complicated before. This looks to have been written by multiple witches before, but they are so insanely intricate I can’t figure out what they can do or which rune is from which witch or… anything, honestly,” Maisie said, her eyes scanning to try to comprehend what she was looking at.
“Runes are supposed to be like a witch’s signature in a way, right? They work like a doctor’s signature on a prescription?” I asked.
Maisie nodded. “Exactly. Usually, when you look at a rune, you can tell who the witch might have been who cast the spell, as well as what kind of spell was cast. WhenIlook at a rune, I cantell you exactly who the witch was and what the spell is doing. And that’sbeforeI use my magic to get more details.”
“Oh, this is why your doctorate witchmates can’t stand you,” Simone teased.
Maisie shrugged. “Not my fault I’m a magical prodigy and the baddest witch in the program. Can’t see how you can hate outside the club when you can’t even get in.”
“So, can you use your magic to get more details about this book? Maybe if we find who casted the spell on it or what these runes do?—”
“We can find out what it has to do with me and my mom,” I finished Simone’s thoughts. Something fluttered in my chest, full of hope.
“Thereisa spell I can use for it alongside my magic for it, yes,” Maisie exhaled. She placed a hand over the runes and closed her eyes.
Simone and I watched her quietly for a few moments. Then Simone leaned over Maisie’s front to whisper to me. “Why isn’t she saying anything or doing any fancy witchy things?”
Maisie’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “You have seenPractical Magictoo many times, Sea. Witches don’thaveto do that to cast spells. We just need to summon our magic and say the words and intent in our heads. Now, shh, I need to concentrate.”
The three of us fell silent then as we waited.