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She wrinkles her nose before turning her attention back to her glowing wrist. “That’s good to know, I guess. Let’s keep going.”
We follow the spell up the stairs, past Lady Liberty, into the Main Hall, until the golden thread points straight into the wall. Esme’s shoulders deflate visibly. “That can’t be…”
I run my hands over her arms. “A lot of things aren’t as they seem in this place. It’s a public library, and as such, they’ve had to hide a lot in plain sight.”
Sliding my hand down her arm, I lace my fingers with hers, before bringing our joined hands to the wall and pressing around in the spot where the golden light disappears. There’s a small depression in the panel, and when we press down hard enough, a secret door opens for us. Beyond it, the stream of golden light keeps going.
Esme sucks in a breath and turns to me with a brilliant smile that makes my chest tighten.
“Come on, let’s go,” I say, tapping her lower back.
We venture down a corridor of glass cases filled with jarred brains and taxidermy animals that don’t look like they belong to any one species, eerie experiments that should’ve never seen the light of day — and maybe didn’t, judging by the secrecy of this place. The corridor is lit by a few lamps swinging overhead that flicker periodically, and is several degrees colder than the rooms outside. Esme squeezes in tighter, her scent turning brinier.
“This place is creepy as shit.”
“I’m dead, and even I think so,” Mei chimes in from a few feet behind us.
“You can always wait outside.”
“And lose out on the action? Hell no.”
I roll my eyes, pulling Esme closer to me and pointing to the wooden door at the end of the hallway where the golden light disappears into. “We’re almost there. Just keep going.”
She nods, straightening her back and lengthening her step with a deep breath. We quickly reach the door and swing it open.
On the other side is a circular room covered floor to ceiling in books, with a lush crimson carpet, cherry wood shelves, and petal-shaped sconces diffusing the space in a purple-hue. A far departure from the corridor. It smells like old books, but in a pleasant, nostalgic way. The golden light points to the very center of the space, where a podium in the same cherry wood displays a single tome bound in rich, brown leather.
Esme approaches it with singular focus. “I can hear it,” she says to nobody in particular.
The closer we get, the more I feel like there’s something eerily familiar about the grimoire, with its braided golden pieces holding it closed and the blue stone inlaid on the cover. I stole many grimoires, in my days — this one must’ve just been one of them. But why would I remember it, over all the others?
I step closer, peering over Esme’s shoulder, to get a better look as she snaps it open. The lock pricks her finger and accepts her blood, allowing her access. It’s without a doubt her birthright grimoire. On the first page is the snake chasing its tail, the symbol of a coven’s belonging she found in her mother’s homemade grimoire, and the etching on the last trinket of my curse.
The blood in my veins begins to slow.
Esme flips to the next page.
There, in big, cursive letters, is the name of the witch who authored this grimoire. Esmeralda’s ancestor. And I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe anymore.
Because the grimoire, it belonged to Isabel Noguera de Bara. My Isabel.
chapter 44
and bonds that heal
esmeralda
We sit on opposite corners of the bed, the grimoire in the center between us like an invisible wall. Which in a way, it very much is — the things that are inside it, or rather, the name that is written on it, has become a major roadblock between us. One that we need to overcome, if we want to keep moving forward. If I want to stay alive.
“Talk, Tei.”
He can’t even look me in the eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
I huff, throwing my arms in the air. “I don’t know, maybe start with the truth? What happened with Isabel?”
“You know what happened. She cursed me.”
“That’s what you said.”
