Chapter 18

"She really does not want me in this library, does she?" I said after getting in the car with Tilda. Isobel had insisted on separate cars and, at this point, I wasn't willing to argue with her.

Tilda grimaced. "It isn't anything against you so much. Isobel has been the coven librarian for pretty much her whole life. Letting a non-coven member into our library is just not done. It was bad enough that you attended the meeting last night. Isobel's a stickler for the rules, and ever since you walked into town, the rules seem to have gone out the window."

Considering I'd been kidnapped, I was pretty sure the rules went out the window before I'd been dragged into this town.

"Why did Isobel say that it was bad enough that you were being allowed into the library?"

Tilda smiled tightly. "Oh, I've never been in there. Only certain witches may enter the library. Isobel has complete control, and she requires extensive testing of a witch before they are permitted to access that information. It takes a lot of study, and I still have a way to go before I'm qualified."

I sighed as I looked out of the window and watched the buildings of Walker Bay passing by. I'd always thought that governing bodies that limited information to the masses were a bad thing. Seems I was having my world view challenged in more than one way.

I was surprised when we left the town and then turned down a dirt track that headed straight through the middle of a large overgrown forest. "I thought we were going to the library."

"We are," said Tilda.

"Wouldn't it be more useful for the library to be in the town, where the people are?"

Tilda smiled. "The public library with normal books is in town, but the coven library is different. Witch magic works best in nature. Too many buildings and the trappings of modern life can sometimes cause a distraction which can lead to unintended consequences, so the coven library is in a cave in the forest."

"Wait a minute, I just spent all morning hearing how dangerous these books can be and how burning some of them was considered an acceptable practice. Now you're telling me that the coven is fine with leaving them in a cave in the forest, completely unprotected."

"I wouldn't say they're unprotected," Tilda said with a smug smile as she parked the car next to Isobel.

I looked around as I got out of the car. "Okay, I can't see it."

Tilda pointed behind me. I saw a large timber door with words and symbols burnt into it. Isobel put her hand on the door and pushed. The symbols seemed to flare, and the heavy wooden door swung open to a massive room that looked like it had been carved out of rock. Okay, that was impressive. Tilda and I followed Isobel and Margot through the door.

"I can't believe there is such a large cave here."

Tilda grinned. "This forest is riddled with caves and they seem to hold some power. We used to have a couple of hermits who lived up in some of the smaller caves, and they swore that their magic was amplified out here."

I could believe that.

As we walked further into the cave, the first thing we saw were walls of shelves lining the two sides of the room, laden with books. They looked old and worn. I had never seen a collection quite like this. I walked along the shelves peering up at the hundreds of books, my fingers itching to touch them. They were all different sizes and shapes. Their binding varied from one book to the next. There was no mass production happening here. Each of these books looked like they had been created by hand.

"This is amazing," I gasped.

Margot laughed. "I forgot, you're a librarian, aren't you? This must be like striking the mother lode."

She wasn't wrong.

Margot handed over a large book with a mottled leather binding. "This one is from the early fifteen hundreds."

I snatched my hand back as if I'd been burnt. "Don't we need gloves or something?" I asked, desperate to touch, but unwilling to risk damaging something so extraordinary.

Margot smiled at my obvious apprehension at touching something so old. "Grimoires are different to normal books. They feed on magic, and the best source of magic for them are witches. Our touching these books doesn't degrade them, it provides them with strength."

I loved hearing the awe in her voice.

Margot and Isobel collected some books and placed them in the center of a large wooden table that ran down the middle of the room.

"You two start with these ones," Margot said before she and Isobel headed deeper into the cave.

After a couple of hours making our way through the piles of grimoires we had been handed, I leaned over to Tilda and lowered my voice. "Why are there colored lights around some of these books?"

Tilda looked surprised. "You're seeing colored auras around the books?"

I nodded. "Some of the colors are kind of moving."

"That's really...um...weird. I've never heard of that happening before."

"Is it possible that I'm allergic to something in here? I'm starting to feel a little strange."

"Could it be epilepsy?"

That came out of left field. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, you're saying that you're seeing moving colors. Isn't that a symptom of epilepsy?" She stopped for a moment as if a thought had struck her. "It could be a brain tumor."

"I do not have a brain tumor," I hissed, wondering how things had escalated so quickly.

"Maybe if you walked around a little, got a bit of air."

That sounded like her first reasonable suggestion for the day. I stood up and headed towards the back of the library, marveling at the sheer size of the cave. I turned a corner and found a much smaller room with boxes scattered around, filled with more books. I sighed with happiness. This was always my favorite area of any library, the place where new books arrive and get sorted. I squatted down next to one of the boxes and pulled out one of the grimoires. It seemed to be a book on herbal lore that was handwritten with the most beautiful illustrations. As I started reading it, I could swear that I heard a murmuring in my ear.

"What are you doing in here?" Isobel's sharp voice broke through the murmuring.

I jumped and tried very hard not to drop the book. "I was taking a break and thought I'd have a look around."

"This area is a working area. Some of the books are delicate. We prefer they not be touched by anyone who hasn't had the correct training."

And since I'd had no training, I was going to assume that included me. I put the book back carefully and squeezed past her through the doorway. "Sorry."

Isobel dropped her head and I felt like a kid who was about to get told off by the teacher. "I know these are extraordinary circumstances," she said. "But there are rules, and we need to follow them."

"I understand and I'm really sorry."

As I made my way back to Tilda, a wave of nausea hit me and I leaned against the shelving. I felt something on my hand and looked up to see that the book I was leaning against had a dark red aura around it. I snatched my hand back and just watched as the shape that had touched me settled back on the book. Ignoring the nausea I was feeling, I pulled the book down from the shelf and took it back to Tilda, dropping it in front of her.

"I need you to tell me why this book is making me feel sick."

Tilda looked at me skeptically. "There is nothing on this book."

"Could you just please check it for me. Maybe there's something inside that I'm reacting to. All I know is I got sick and started seeing things when I got close to that book."

Tilda pulled the book towards herself and started reading. I sat patiently, trying desperately to control my roiling stomach.

Finally, she closed it and pushed it away. "I don't know what you're seeing, but this book is about harmless household spells. I don't think you could have found a more innocent grimoire if you had tried."

"Then why do I see a dark aura around it, like it's been tainted somehow?"

Tilda threw up her hands. "I don't know. Maybe you're under stress and you're not sleeping well, maybe your head got hit a little harder than we thought when you were kidnapped, or maybe we should revisit the brain tumor theory."

I slumped in my seat and rubbed a hand over my face. "You could be right. I feel really strange. Between the night visits with Flora and the early mornings, I don't think I'm coping overly well."

"I think you need a nap."

"What are you talking about? I'm not a child."

"No, but you're acting as our only link to Flora. If you collapse, we lose that. It isn't worth the risk. I'm taking you back to the house. If we see anything that we need Flora to know about, we will bring you back."

A fresh wave of nausea hit me, and I gulped in some air. She was right. I was no good to anyone right now, and if I started to go downhill, I might not be able to contact Flora. Of all the things that were going on, the thought of Flora alone in the dark was the one that frightened me the most.