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Ox.
Ox.
Ox.
I closed the book. I reached up, meaning to set it on top of the bookcase. A sharp burst of laughter from just outside the house startled me. I almost fell from the chair. I caught myself at the last moment, but the old book slipped from my fingers. I winced as it slid behind the bookcase, clattering down to the floor.
“Shit,” I muttered. I’d have to move the whole bookcase to get it out. I looked down at the smaller book. The cover was blank. The book itself was wrapped with a leather strap. Initials were carved into the leather.
TB
I couldn’t think of anyone with those initials.
I stepped down from the chair, clutching the book to my chest.
It wasn’t from a witch. It didn’t smell like magic.
I undid the leather strap and let it dangle.
Inside, the pages were lined and yellow, filled with barely legible chicken scratch. I made out words like power and creek and father and sons. It was the same handwriting that had been in the margins of the other book.
I turned to the first page.
There was an inscription, written with a delicate hand, so much different than all the pages that followed.
To my beloved—
Never forget.
—E
Two things happened at once.
The computer chimed,
and
my phone rang in my pocket.
I startled, dropping the book onto the floor. I cursed as I pulled my phone from my pocket, glancing down at the screen as I pushed the chair back under the desk.
UNKNOWN
I frowned at the phone. I thought about ignoring it.
I answered it instead.
“Hello?”
A crackle of static filled my ear.
I pulled the phone away to look at the screen again. The call was connected. I put it back against my ear. “Who is this?”
The phone beeped as the call dropped.
I looked at it again and—
