Damon jumped up off the table. He’d fallen asleep. “What? What?”
“Nothing,” I grumbled. “Go back to sleep.”
“I’m awake now. What’s your problem?”
I put my elbows on the table and shoved my fingers through my hair. “I can’t find anything on that ornamental grass. There’s no picture anywhere in these.”
Tim jerked his thumb toward a dusty bookcase crammed with leather-bound tomes. “Got a bunch of older books stashed in there. Might be worth a gander, though I haven’t cracked ’em open in ages. Botany hasn’t exactly been high on my list of priorities, but who knows? Might find something useful buried in all that plant talk.”
“Hopefully, there is.” I wandered toward the bookcase.
Tim wasn’t exaggerating. He really hadn’t touched any of these. One of them caught my eye. The Arcanum of Flora: Ancient Compendium of Mystical Herbs and Botanicals. It was shrouded in a thick layer of dust that spoke of years of neglect. “The Arcanum of Flora” was embossed in faded gold lettering on its spine, the words barely legible under the grime.
Its cover was a deep, weathered burgundy with intricate, worn patterns that hinted at meticulous craftsmanship. The leather was cracked in places, showing its age and the many hands it must have passed through over the centuries.
I picked it up off the shelf, surprised at how heavy it was. I had to use two hands to bring it back to the table. Damon had already slumped back in his chair, catching more Z’s. Research always bored him to tears.
Tim shook his head as he flipped through the pages. “Well, look at that. Our fearless hunter taken down by the most dangerous beast of all—a book. If he keeps that up, I might start thinking he’s going soft on me.”
“Let him sleep.” I yawned.
Tim stared at me. “You look like you’re going to turn into Sleeping Beauty.”
I drew a deep breath. “No, I’m fine.”
I sighed as I opened the heavy cover. The pages were yellowed with age, their edges frayed and slightly curled. Despite the wear, the text was preserved remarkably well, written in an elegant, flowing script that intertwined with detailed illustrations of various herbs and plants.
Some pages bore the marks of past readers. Faint notes scribbled in the margins, dried leaves pressed between sheets, and the occasional mysterious stain testified to the book’s long, possibly secretive history. It was written in old English, and it would be slow going through the book.
“Tim, where did you get this?” I asked.
“From an old friend,” he replied with a wistful smile. “That book was written by Alaric Galdor. He was a renowned herbalist and alchemist of the late medieval period. He left behind a wealth of knowledge after extensive travels through Europe, where he learned several languages and developed a fascination with botany’s scientific and mystical aspects.” He paused, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Did I mention he was also a skilled hunter?”
My eyes widened. “You mean like us?”
“Yup. Born and raised. That book may have some of the answers we’re looking for.”
“If I can read it,” I mumbled as I looked at the Old English text. My mom used to teach me to read it when I was a kid since we had some old research books, but it had been years since I even tried to read the antiquated language.
As I struggled with the text, Tim glanced over with a mix of amusement and practicality. “Don’t strain yourself there. Old English is a pain in the rear for anyone. Focus on the pictures for now. They’re worth a thousand words, right? And hey, they’re in color, so that’s a bonus. We can piece the rest together with what you remember. No use having all this knowledge if it’s locked behind language barriers.”
This would be tedious even with the pictures. I put my elbow on the table and rested my cheek on my hand. Probably not the smartest thing in the world to do. Soon, I was slumped onto the book like my brother.
A loud boom made me jerk up, and I shook my head.
“Sorry,” Tim muttered sheepishly. “One Sleeping Beauty was all I could tolerate.”
Damon hadn’t even moved.
I rubbed my eyes and yawned. “I guess with the burger, beer, and all this research, I couldn’t keep my eyes open.”
“I need all the help I can get.” His voice was bitter, but I saw the gentleness in his eyes.
I flipped the next page and blinked twice. “Tim, I think I found it.”
“What?” He abruptly got up from his chair and hurried over to me.
Damon woke up again and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What’s all the commotion? You win the lotto?”