“While I’m reading this one, I’d also like to see any books you have on ancient metals.”
His brow creased. “Ancient metals? That’s a new one.”
“Technically it’s an old one. Tells you right there in the name.”
He cracked a smile. Pedro was easily amused, which was one of the reasons I found him so agreeable. One time I brought a red and black winged creature with six legs straight into the library and threw it on the counter to ask what it was. Pedro didn’t bat a single one of those thick lashes. He simply walked to the stacks, consulted a book, and informed me that I’d stumbled across a rare flying spider. He also told me they preyed on birds, which was a helpful detail considering my feathered companions. I made sure to deliver the creature to the opposite end of the city before I returned home.
“Can you describe the metal?”
“I can do you one better.” Although I’d left the sample with Lann, I still had the photo. I showed it to Pedro. “A blacksmith friend of mine thinks it might be Damascus steel.”
He stared at the image, transfixed. “Yes, I can see that.” He swallowed hard. “That cocoon is empty, yes?”
“Yes,” I lied. No sense in tormenting the librarian. I needed his mind sharp. Although he’d handled everything I’d ever thrown at him so far, there was always a first time.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. The patina alone…so shiny.” His fingers brushed the image on the screen. “I’ll have to think on this one. We can check the metallurgy section, but I suspect we won’t find it there.”
“Why not?”
He frowned. “Because I don’t think this is a metal that science recognizes. It’s believed to be mythical the way alchemy was once viewed as mythical by humans.”
That news was unexpected. “So we should look in the mythology section instead of ancient history?”
“We can start in one, although we might still end up in the other. Mythology and ancient history sometimes intersect.”
After settling down at a table with a pile of books, I paged through the thick book, flipping back and forth to the index. There were several pages with ‘five’ as a keyword.
“Anything else I can help you with today?” Pedro asked.
I glimpsed a sun symbol on one of the pages that slid past my fingertips. “What do you think it was like?”
He blinked his thick eyelashes. “Pardon?”
I motioned to the ceiling. “Sunlight. Daytime. Solar power.”
Pedro’s face grew wistful. “When I was a boy, I would beg my abuela to tell me stories of a world drenched in sunshine. She was an artist and she would paint picture after picture of a sunlit world. Everything she painted was bathed in a golden light.” A dreamy sigh escaped him. “She was a vivid storyteller too. I would sit at her feet while she painted and she would tell me stories of a world before vampires. The world before the Eternal Night.”
It was hard to imagine a world without vampires. They’d always been here, of course, but it was only after the Great Eruption that they felt emboldened enough to emerge from the shadows. Battle after battle was fought—first the war where the vampires claimed the land and then the battles between vampires as they fought for dominance. House Lewis emerged the victor in the United Kingdom. House August in New York in the Americas. House Wu in Asia. House Hailu in Africa. House Saputra in Australasia.
I was tempted to ask about the wizard with the sun tattoo on his head, but there were some things better left unsaid. Besides I had enough research to tackle and I didn’t know enough about the wizard and his friends yet. No need to endanger Pedro by sharing too much.
“At least you have her artwork to remember her by.” I had nothing except a few photographs of my mother. No possessions. The more you owned, the more they weighed you down.
“Indeed,” Pedro agreed. “One of my favorite things to do when I’m missing my abuela is to go to the art section and look through the books with pictures of the sun. Suddenly it’s like no time has passed.”
“That’s sweet.” Pedro was a kind man. I was glad he found a home at the library instead of becoming food for vampires. Luck of the draw.
After another hour of research, I started to yawn. I found plenty of information involving the importance of the number five in religions and myths, but nothing that resembled the symbol on the stone. Damascus steel proved equally elusive. The internet would’ve come in handy, but it was now a relic of the past thanks to the uprooted earth and dysfunctional satellites. It had become so unreliable and difficult to power with magic that it had been all but abandoned and books once again became the primary source of information.
I didn’t even realize I’d dosed off until a janitor nudged me awake. How long had I been asleep?
I dragged myself home, my head spinning with symbols and numbers and images of a metal cocoon. It bothered me that the investigation’s priority was finding the stone, then Davina. Identifying Maria’s murderer didn’t even make the cut. Some might argue Maria deserved her fate, but I understood that desperation made people do things they never believed themselves capable of. I hoped her former colleagues didn’t judge her too harshly.
I was relieved to reach my flat. The only thing I wanted now was a warm bed. I’d force myself to eat if only to avoid waking in the night with a rumbling belly. I hated interrupted sleep and with the animals in the holiday home, I had a rare chance to sleep without being nudged or kicked or clawed and I was taking full advantage of it.
I practically crawled up five flights of stairs, unlocked the door, and collapsed on the bed. If I dreamed at all, I was too tired to remember.
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