Page 12 of The Seeker

“What I really need to know is anything you know about the books themselves. Friar and I already know which ones were given to Adis by Signa, and I know that Hansen had one where you could hear the whispers of the dead and⁠—”

“Mindreading,” Collum said with the shake of her head. “That book is well known, because anyone who reads it—if they aren’t in a secluded area—almost immediately goes crazy from the whispers. The coven spoke of it once.”

My mind flashed back to my brief experience with the book. “If someone has already read a book, then severed that magical power via meditation, can they re-read the book?” The words came out quickly, and I couldn’t stop the way plans were weaving together in my mind.

Collum frowned. “I don’t see why not. As far as I know, there is no way to permanently block magic.”

“Good.” I knew exactly where I needed to go after this. “What other books exist?”

Collum sighed. “Runa, I don’t know⁠—”

“Just try,” I urged her. “I told you; I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

She ran a hand through her blond hair, glancing out the window even though the curtains were drawn, probably in an effort to keep her hidden. “As I mentioned before, the book where you could speak someone’s death is gone.”

But that wasn’t the book I was worried about. “What about the one where you could force someone to love you?”

She turned back to me, eyebrows raised. “Also gone. I can’t believe you remember that.”

I shrugged, not wanting her to catch on to where I was going, not until I was certain she actually trusted me as she claimed she did. “Where do the books come from, Collum? Is there a chance another one could be penned? Another book of forced love, for instance?”

She was pensive for a moment, biting her bottom lip as her eyes roamed the ceiling, “When I was young, my parents spoke of something . . . a Scribe—the third type of Seid, the ones who created the magic. But they only spoke of it once, and I was never able to ask about it again.” She grimaced, and I knew she was still grieving her loss, just as I grieved mine.

The triangle in my mind was complete. The Seeker and Reader as the base, and the Scribe as the point.

“But, Runa, there hasn’t been whispers of a Scribe for generations,” Collum added, likely sensing the direction my thoughts were headed.

It was my turn to shake my head. “Do you know anything about how they are trained? How they know what symbols to write down to create the magic?”

Collum frowned. “No. I wish I did. All I know is that there’s rumors that the books were made while we were still in communication with the gods, before, you know, they left us.”

I paced the floor in front of where Collum sat on the bed. While things were starting to make more sense than they ever had before, the fact that the gods were involved—the ones Heimland had long believed to have abandoned us—made this more complicated than I’d expected.

Still, I had my answer. “So, new books cannot be made, at least, not to your knowledge?”

“No,” Collum affirmed. I could feel her curiosity as it brushed my skin. I knew she could also feel my emotions, but they wouldn’t reveal what I was planning.

“Is there any way you know of to temporarily block powers?” I hoped she wouldn’t make the connection to my earlier question.

“Probably.” She twisted her hands in her lap before connecting her blue eyes to mine. “Honestly, Runa, there is so much training and information we probably should have received but our parents were so focused on teaching us to read, and not to exhibit any other signs of magic, I don’t think anyone around our age has the skills necessary to do anything worthwhile with the magic. Even the coven meetings had long become more of a . . . formality, than anything else.”

“I see.” That was what I’d been afraid of. Without waiting for Friar, I walked toward the door, pulling it open.

“Where are you going?” Collum called out from behind me.

“The library,” I called without looking over my shoulder. “I’ll be by to grab my potion tomorrow, Friar.”

I didn’t wait for them to answer before I closed the door behind me and made my way down the hall.

CHAPTER 5

Imeandered up and down the library shelves, my finger dragging across the spines. When I’d thought up this plan, this was the part I’d failed to consider. Would I be able to feel a Seid book on touch alone?

I was about to find out.

It didn’t take long to feel all the books on the lower and mid-level shelves, but soon, I was having to reach above my head to touch the books there, and my arm tired fast, aching when I dropped it down to my side at the end of each shelf. Dejected after repeating this process only a few times, I dropped into the chair in the sitting area in the center of the library.

The Hansen library was not small, with floor to ceiling bookcases around the entire perimeter of the room, a sliding ladder pushed to one side so it was easier to reach. There were also shelves in the middle of the room which, though not quite as tall as the others, they did nearly brush the ceiling.