Page 81 of The Secret Keeper's Daughter

“Let’s get started.”

We find a map to a spiral staircase that takes us up to the third level. Harek follows signs with weird lettering to a maze of shelves with book spines of every color imaginable. There are actually a few with titles I can read.

I stop and pull one from its place. “They have human lettering?”

“Apparently. Come on.” He waves me toward him.

Reluctantly, I put the book back then hurry to catch up. We go down one aisle, up another, zigging and zagging until I’m not even sure we’re still in the same building. There must’ve been a portal that took us somewhere else because the inside is at least ten times as big as the outside of the structure. Or that’s just the way of magic. The foreign magic in my stomach is the calmest it’s been.

Harek stops walking, and I bump into him. He doesn’t seem to notice as he pulls out a book so black it seems to suck in the colors around it. The gold lettering is almost too bright to look at compared to the rest of it.

“Is that a hunter book?” I ask, even though it’s obvious it is. That’s what we’ve been scouring the library for, and the only reason Harek would stop.

He nods and hands it toward me.

My breath hitches. Am I ready to find out my legacy?

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

The book sitson the table in front of Harek and me. I still haven’t touched it, hardly able to believe it could hold answers about my father that I’ve wanted to know since the day I understood Gunnar wasn’t my father.

“Do you want me to open it?” Harek asks.

I avoid the question. “What’s the title?”

“The Hunter.”

“That’s it?” I ask. “Seems like a lot of letters for two words.”

“It’s a different alphabet. I can teach you.”

“Later.”

He rests his hand on mine and gives a gentle squeeze. “I know this is nerve wracking, but thisiswhy we came here.”

I take a deep breath. He’s right—I didn’t come all this way to hide from the truth. Without giving it another thought, I reach for the book and pull it closer. The cover feels creamy and smooth, and when I trace the lettering it glows faintly.

So does my palm.

I leap back, like it’s on fire, and gasp.

Harek smirks. “If there was any doubt this is a book about your lineage, that’s now extinguished.”

“How can you find this amusing?”

“Because I’m happy for you, Eira. You’re about to get all the answers you’ve always wanted. How many times over the years have you asked questions about your heritage? Now they’re all at your fingertips.”

I’m not sure I’m ready for this, but what other choice do I have? If I want the full story, it’s right here. My readiness is irrelevant, so I scoot closer to the book. Again my palm glows faintly, matching the lettering on the cover.

“How does it do that?” I ask.

“Magic.” Harek says it like that’s the most obvious answer in the world. Maybe it is.

“Do you think it’s good? Every other time my palm has glowed, it seems to indicate danger.”

“It’s probably more complex than that.”

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