“My descendant? Where is he now? Why is he not in possession of my book? Why is he not here to rob his grandfather’s grave?”
“Deeping Lunechose me.”
“Impossible. I specifically told it to never choose anyone but me.”
If Lore weren’t on the verge of passing out from terror, she might have rolled her eyes... That response was so like something Syrelle would command if the books were his creation. Lore managed to control her shivering shoulders enough to shrug. “It belongs to me now, and I to it.”
The dead alchemist leaned back on his heels, somehow managing to look down his missing nose at her. “The book is not something to belong to. It is a tool, nothing more.”
“It is so much more than a tool. It is a companion. A confidant.” She raised her chin in defiance. “It is mine, and I amDeeping Lune’s.”
“Very well. It is fitting that you brought it here to be with its sister. Now they can rest together. Though...” Lore had the impression he was frowning. “I went to quite a lot of trouble to keep them separated.” He reached out both decomposing hands now. Lore had to look away from the putrid liquid dripping off his wrists. “Give them to me; there is room in the box for both.”
“I am sorry to have to do this... butAuroradelandDeeping Lunedo not want to lie here with the bugs for the rest of time. They long to be free.”
“You are a stupid creature, aren’t you? The books are not to be listened to. They are books. What do they know?” He gave a long-suffering sigh.
“Why do this in the first place? To lock them up... it’s evil.”
“They are too powerful to be destroyed... When my health began to wane, I knew there was no way I could allow anyone access to this much power. They would only use it for evil.”
“So you locked your people out of their entire wealth of knowledge? You buried the Book of Sunbeams far from the sun?” That sounded pretty evil to her.
“I will have my grimoires back now, small creature.”
Lore raised her chin. “I will have the exit restored.”
“It cannot be restored. You are locked in here now. I designed this spell myself. It is infallible.”
“Then... undo it.”
“If you haven’t noticed, I am no longer living. How am I to call on that muchSource? All I have left is this parlor trick.” He shook his hand where the dark, swirling mist lingered.
The dead could not controlSource, and yet his magic clung to him centuries later. That was how powerful he had been in life. Lore wanted that. Shewouldhave that—would wield such power that when she perished,it permeated her very bones. “I’ll just have to do it myself, then,” Lore said.
“You shall not!” He seemed affronted that anyone would defy his desire to have them starve to death in this cavern.
Fucking nobility.
It was slowly dawning on her that although the sight of him made her stomach heave... he was harmless. He’d created puzzles for anyone who sought out the grimoire, laid one last trap, and then he’d perished.
But there was nothing else he could do. As if he could hear her thoughts, the old bag of bones lowered himself onto the box. His breath came slowly, in a rattling wheeze.
Lore pulledAuroradelfrom beneath her shirt.
“Matleus. Why was Syrelle unable to findDeeping Lunewhen he searched the library?”
“I suppose his heart must not have been pure. I knew that not all my descendants who divulged they would be unharmed by the curse would have good intentions. I couldn’t risk them findingLune.”
“And yet...Lune”—she tried out the nickname, finding that it suited the book—“found me.”
“So say you.”
Curses. This damned suspicious old gat.
“My standing here is proof that my heart is pure. Or do you have so little faith in your spell casting?”
He harrumphed.