Page 11 of Bloodlines and Birthright

“And the books that are given away?”

Again, he glanced at the stern abbot before meeting my gaze. “In their case, the values of the subject matter do not align with the values of the Abbazia di San Vittore al Lago.”

Ah. I understood. Magic and religion were not always comfortable companions, even now when it was widely accepted that a magician was born not bred, and therefore his or her magic was as God-given as blue eyes or a big nose. From the cautious glances Brother Eduardo cast in his abbot’s direction, it seemed the head of this abbey held the view that magic was heresy. Hopefully his prejudice ran only as deep as rejecting books in his collection, not magicians themselves. And hopefully Oscar would keep his mouth shut and not decide to demonstrate the beauty of floating ink.

Brother Eduardo flipped back a page and indicated several entries. “These were given away some months ago to a gentleman in Monteoro. They are all books that mentioned magic in some form. I had not read them all, so it is possible the book you seek is in there. Some were written in the time that fits the book you seek, some were more modern, others older.”

Oscar joined me to read the titles, but they were all in Latin so he wouldn’t have understood them. Without him asking, I translated for him. He stood close to me, which didn’t go unnoticed by Brother Eduardo, watching us intently from beneath those long dark lashes of his.

I tapped my finger on the final entry to get his attention. One particular book had caught my eye. “This was an important work, known to have been used by Charles Darwin as a basis for his theory on evolution.”

“What’s the title in English?” Oscar asked.

“Bloodlines and Birthright: Observations on Inherited Traits by a Monk,” I read. “Did you give it away or sell it?”

Brother Eduardo gave a soft sigh. “It was given to Signore Scala along with the others listed here.”

“We would have paid you well for it.”

Brother Eduardo’s gaze once again flicked to the abbot before lowering again to the ledger. “Perhaps it contains the ink magic spell you need, Professor.”

“No, it doesn’t. I read it years ago and would remember something of that nature.”

“He would,” Oscar chimed in. “His memory is excellent.”

“The professor is a learned man, I understand.” Brother Eduardo sounded interested. Pleased, even. Perhaps he didn’t meet too many educated gentlemen, isolated as he was in this decaying abbey.

“Very learned,” Oscar told him. “Gavin has written some excellent books on the history of magic, among other things. The university where he worked was sorry to see him go. Their loss is my gain. I am very happy to have his big brain on our book hunting endeavors. His company too, of course.”

The mention of my specialty of magic history had Brother Eduardo once again glancing at the abbot. Although it wasn’t an anxious glance, it held a measure of uncertainty. Did he expect the abbot to throw us out? The abbot had welcomed us, despite knowing our interest in magic, so I felt his worry was unnecessary.

Brother Eduardo closed the ledger and picked up a piece of paper from the desk. “I copied the entries for all the books sold to Signore Scala. Take it with you and perhaps he will negotiate a price.”

“Does Signore Scala live in the village?” Oscar asked.

“He lives at Villa Corzoni.”

My heart sank. If the new owner of the book we wanted also owned that bright jewel of a villa on the edge of the lake, he had no need of money. We’d have to convince him to sell us the book using some other means.

“It is late,” the abbot said. “You should leave now before it grows dark.” Without waiting for an answer, the tall man ducked under the doorway as he left the library and strode off. We followed.

“Perhaps they could join us for vesperae and supper,” Brother Eduardo said, trailing behind.

“No,” the abbot barked over his shoulder.

Brother Eduardo lowered his head and murmured an apology.

I expected Oscar to be equally vehement in declining the invitation to join the monks in prayer, but he seemed distracted. He lengthened his strides to keep apace with the abbot. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d removed all the books containing magic when we wrote?”

“When I wrote,” I corrected him.

Although Oscar addressed the abbot, it was the librarian, walking alongside me, who answered. “I was not aware all the books mentioning magic were removed from the library. However, I should have written to the Professor about the purging of our collection.” He suddenly grasped my hand. “I am very sorry, Professor.”

I snatched my hand back before either Oscar or the abbot noticed. I’d already had an inkling that Brother Eduardo was one of those men who liked other men, and had seemed to take a liking to me, but I’d not expected him to be so bold. My outright rejection of his touch made him lower his head, his cheeks flaming. My own heated, which only made the situation more intolerable.

Oscar was oblivious to the scene playing out behind him. “Father Abbot? You purged the books, didn’t you?”

“Si. I gave those devil books to the devil himself.”