“Can you tell me what it means?” I asked.
She nodded. “That particular rune is the Elven symbol fordemigod. Put together, all the runes on the door say,What is hidden remains secret from all but the demigods, forevermore.Strange, considering I wasn’t aware of any demigods at the time of the Elven genocide, but interesting nonetheless.”
It was very difficult to keep myself in my seat. The gate on Darke Island wasn’t a door for Elves at all.
It was a door for demigods. Which meant Charlie, Kallie, Marcus and I needed to figure out how to open it. But why had the Elves built a door for people like me in the first place?
“The rest of these runes look like the names of ships,” Hemlock said as she read them.
Hemlock looked toward the door, as if she was worried someone might walk in. Then she waved a hand, and a lock on her desk clicked open. She opened the drawer, then placed a very old and very worn book in front of me.
She opened the book and began turning the pages. “This is a translation guide for Elven runes. With this book, you should be able to decipher any Elvish you come across.”
“Where did you find this? It’s extraordinary,” I marveled. No one knew how to read or speak Elvish anymore— everything of Elven lore had been destroyed by the fae during the Great Supernatural War.
“I came across it when I was crawling around in a cave years ago,” Hemlock said fondly. “It’s my greatest discovery… and probably the last living relic that the supernatural world has of the Elves.”
My awed voice became horrified. “You can’t give me something so valuable. I won’t accept it.”
“I have read that book so many times the pages are bare,” Hemlock replied. “The knowledge goes nowhere if it dies with me. I wish to pass it on to you.”
I wanted to refuse again, but to do so would be foolish. My prophecy was connected to the Elves somehow, and Hemlock was doing me a great favor by supplying this to me. I needed this book. “Thank you,” I said as I slipped the book into my bag, along with my journal and the recorder. “This means so much to me.”
“It’s more than just a gift. I’m giving you this as an opportunity that you’ll hopefully learn it, so one more person in the world can remember what we supernaturals have forgotten,” Hemlock said. “I don’t have to tell you that book is contraband. If you’re found with it, there will be extreme consequences by the Warden. The supernatural world can’t afford to lose that book. Keep it secret.”
I hugged my bag, which contained the book. “I promise.”
“I know you’ll do right by it.” Hemlock sat back in her chair. “I haven’t come across a student as passionate about history as you in a very long time. It’s a refreshing change.”
“Did you teach it at Arcanea University?” I asked. A knowledgeable fae teacher like her should be instructing at a high-profile college in Malovia, not this dump. For the millionth time, I wondered why Hemlock was here.
“For a few years, but most of my time teaching has been spent here. Before I was a professor, I was a great anthropologist, but this is one enigma I’ve never been able to solve. I’ve been to that site dozens, perhaps hundreds of times, and I’ve never been able to determine just what that gate was used for.”
“You were an anthropologist?” I brightened.
“Oh, yes. I traveled all around the world, having many adventures in many countries. I have studied many different cultures in my time,” Hemlock said.
“I wanted to study anthropology, before I came to the Institute,” I said sadly, thinking of my lost dream.
Hemlock raised her chin. “You’re the granddaughter of Elliot Baine, aren’t you? A wonderful, clever man, if not a little odd. He’s had some…interestingdiscoveries over the years. I very much enjoyed his book on supernatural societies. I went on one or two explorations with him in my younger years, and I daresay they were far from… ah… boring.”
That was a nice way of saying she was glad she’d kept her head on while exploring with my grandfather, a sentiment many shared.
“Yes.” I sighed. “I wanted to follow in his footsteps. It was my goal to be an explorer.”
“Whyever can’t you?” Hemlock asked. “The Institute has a major in Anthropology, small though it may be. I am the director of the program— though we haven’t had an enrollee in years.”
“Really?” I sat up. “So you mean, I could graduate with a degree in Anthropology?”
“Yes, if you complete all the requirements. Of course, the program requires an internship with me over the summer semester at the Institute, and it’sveryintensive. There’s no time for friends or relaxation. We only take breaks for meals and sleep. Most students don’t make it through, I’m afraid.”
“I can. I can do it,” I insisted. “I want to be in the program.”
Hemlock smiled. “If you’re interested, I can give you the paperwork to fill out, so you can decree your major.”
“Yes! I want to do it right away!”
Hemlock smiled, then dug in her desk for a few papers. She blew off the dust that was on them, then handed them to me. They looked like they hadn’t been touched in years. “Once you’ve completed the application, turn it in, and I’ll alert the Warden to your choice. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to finally have an applicant in the Anthropology program again.”
