“Well, our book didn’t mention the Book of Shadow and Mists by name, so I didn’t even think about it at the time. But in terms of the spell itself… It sounded like whoever had the objects in his possession already—along with something called the blood of the world—could then use an arcane spell to somehow claim magick for himself. Basically, to take control. But the version you mentioned makes it sound like you’d need the spell first, in order to find the objects.”
“Yes, that was always my understanding of the legend. But like I said, there are often many, many versions, passed on through generations and translated with many twists and turns along the way.”
“Do you think they’re talking about the same spell?”
“I do,” he says thoughtfully. “There are enough similarities in the story to suggest it could be one in the same.”
“Something to consider, I guess.” I make a note to ask Kirin about it later, but then cross it out, and make a note to self instead.
“Tell me, Stevie,” Professor Phaines says. “Where did you read about the Book of Shadow and Mists, if not in the book you found with Kirin? The old scribes were notoriously superstitious—it’s rarely ever mentioned in the accounts by name. I only know about it from oral tradition—in fact, I’m working on my own transcription as part of my research, but it’s slow and painstaking, as you might imagine.”
“If it’s anything like this job, I understand, and you have my sympathies.”
“It’s a labor of love,” he says. “Well, and now one of urgency, perhaps, if your visions are any indication.”
I take a breath to tell him where I’d first heard the term, but then change my mind. I’m not sure why exactly, but I don’t want him to think I’m basing my scholarly research off the rantings of a dream visit. My so-called visions about the apocalypse are crazy enough.
I need more information. As with so many things these days.
“I’m not sure,” I hedge. “I must’ve come across it in my research, or maybe in my mother’s notes. At the time I guess I just figured it was another name for a witch’s grimoire—like a book of shadows. But now that I’m getting more comfortable with the Tarot symbols, I’m starting to go back through everything again with a fine-toothed comb, see if there are any details Kirin and I missed the first time.”
“An excellent scientific approach,” he says confidently. Then, checking his phone, “Oh! I’m afraid I’ve got another matter to attend to. Headmistress Trello is quite demanding—don’t tell her I said that. Or about the Snickers bar.”
“All of your secrets are safe with me,” I say.
Professor Phaines chuckles, then rises from his chair, bending across the table to place a kind hand on mine. “Great work, Stevie. Keep digging, keep questioning, keep exercising that beautiful, magickal mind of yours. We are making excellent progress.”
“Thank you. I think so. And if I come across the reference to the Book of Shadow and Mists again, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Yes, I’d be interested in hearing if there’s any connection to your mother’s readings. Regardless, if you have any other questions, don’t hesitate to ask me.”
Questions. I almost laugh.
Where the hell has Kirin been, and why is he avoiding me?
Why did he make me feel literal sparks and lightning, only to disappear on me like that?
“Will do,” I say with another forced smile, watching him leave.
Wiped out from all the brainpower, and the obsessing about Kirin, I pack up my notes for the day and head home, hoping to catch Isla and Nat for an early dinner.
Whatever happened between me and Kirin in the library that night—whatever sparks kindled between us this summer at Kettle Black—I have to let that go. He doesn’t want that with me, and I never should’ve let things get as far as they did.
With this in mind, and a newfound appreciation for the rules of my heart I so blatantly disregarded, I take all of my previous feelings for Kirin, fold them into a little stack, and stick them in the very bottom drawer of my mind, a dusty old book of myths and legends better left forgotten.
Forty-Four
BAZ
I can’t get her out of my head. Not ideal, circumstances being what they are.
I wish I could tell her as much. Wish I could wrap her up in my arms, kiss her until she can’t see straight.
I wish we could finish what we started out on the rocks that day, before Emory showed up and blew my life to shit.
Well, not my whole life. But the Stevie part of my life, which I was just starting to enjoy.
Now Carly’s got me locked into this bullshit deal with her parents…
