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The stairs down to this secret basement are made of white marble. It looks elegant and expensive but the opulence doesn’t take away from the sensation of going so far underground.
Miles of dirt and stone separates us from fresh air. It doesn’t matter that I know I can get upstairs faster than anyone else here, I don’t like it.
The protector of books wears a hood that conceals their face. It’s way too cloak and dagger for modern times.
I wonder who else can get in here besides an elder on the council.
The keeper gestures forward when we reach the bottom and takes up watch by the wall.
There are books as far as the eye can see displayed on bookcases as tall as the ceiling. There have to be close to a million books down here. It would take forever to find a specific one.
“How are we going to find the spell book?” I ask.
Aksel turns to the keeper. “Is there a directory down here?”
They don’t acknowledge his words.
“Okay, thanks.”
Aksel takes off towards the bookcases with Blaze and I following him.
“I guess letting you down here was all the help they’re willing to provide,” I say.
Blaze grunts.
“It’s ridiculous. I know they keep these books safe from the outside world and hate that we are down here now but what is the point of protecting this information if it can’t be used by the outside world,” Aksel says.
He’s right. This is their chance to use this information for the good of the world and they’re resistant.
“Let’s try to determine how these books are sorted. If we can figure out the system maybe we can find the book before we grow gray hair,” I suggest.
We each take a different shelf and try to make sense of it. I see different languages, some symbols, and even books with just numbers on them. Everything looks thousands of years old but is preserved flawlessly.
Rion is the person we need to understand what we’re looking at.
I grab my phone to try and call him for help but there is no service down here. That makes sense that nothing could get down this deep.
I try again, using my vampire speed to examine the spines at a quicker rate but nothing stands out to me.
There has to be a sorting system that the keepers know.
I abandon my shelf, knowing I’m not going to figure this out, and walk back over to the keeper still stationed in the corner.
I want to try and plead our case.
“Hello, I’m Anna.”
I Pause. They don’t respond.
“I’m not sure what the system down here is but you do. We need a specific book from down here. Someone is collecting ingredients for a spell in that book and we need to stop them. It’s called the Magus Liber Carminum.”
Their head moves and it feels like they’re looking at me when I say the name of the book.
“I know for certain that this person is evil,” I add.
It feels like I have their attention. There’s something about this book that has them paying attention to me.
