“For the purpose of?”
“One, telling the user exactly what to do—like a recipe. And two, actually igniting the magic. We think that’s why it’s written in a particular place instead of a spell book.”
She pointed to three symbols. “The phrases contain the elemental building blocks of alchemy, like mercury, sulfur, and salt.” She pointed to symbols of Jupiter and Saturn. “There are symbols for the time of year, the position of earth in the cosmos. And that’s where the magic gets customized with the hieroglyphs—the sorcerer’s tiny drawings. Some, we think, are supposed to be objects. References to the things actually used to make this magic work. But most are the actions—distillation, burning, and like that.”
Ethan frowned, crossed his arms as he studied the board. “So magic will have to be made?”
“Correct,” Paige said, gaze scanning the lines of symbols. “The magic isn’t self-effectuating. The symbols are magical enough that erasing won’t stop the magic, but not magical enough to kindle on their own. Don’t think of them as paint on a canvas.” She looked back at Ethan. “Think of them more like”—she paused, considering—“carvings in the fabric of the universe. You can wipe away the ink, the color, but that doesn’t change the underlying magic that’s already been wrought just by writing them.”
Ethan frowned, considered. “What else?”
She nodded, tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear. “So, the weird thing is that the order of the symbols doesn’t really make sense. We’ll find a few symbols that do something, a phrase in the correct order, but then they go wonky again.” She pointed to one of the phrases. “This, for example, this is a nullification equation.”
“What does it nullify?” Ethan asked, head cocked.
“Whatever you want it to. It’s like a magical verb. Particularly, a verb of subtraction. But it doesn’t do anything without an object to nullify, which also has to be spelled out.”
Ethan’s gaze tracked to the next group of symbols. “The lion, the beaker, the—what is that? A waterfall? They’re the objects?”
“Theoretically, yes.” Paige pointed to the next phrase. “This is the troubling part—the time, the position. When and where the sorcerer is supposed to make all this happen. It’s gibberish, alchemically speaking and astronomically speaking. The planets don’t align that way.” She looked at me. “It’s taken us two hours to figure out we can’t translate this phrase, and there are hundreds more phrases just like it in the equation—ones that don’t make sense in context.”
The soft sound of footsteps had us all looking up. The Librarian strode toward us in a collared shirt, his wavy hair sticking up in tufts. He reached us, looked protectively at Paige, then at Ethan.
“It’s late,” he said. “Any objection if I get her out of here? She could use a break.”
Ethan checked his watch, looked surprised by the time. “Your work is very appreciated,” he said, lifting his gaze to Paige. “And I think you’ve done plenty of it for the night.”
“Good,” she said, “because I’m beat.” Right on cue, she yawned, cupping delicate fingers over her mouth. “Sorry. Long night.”
“For all of us,” Ethan said, gesturing to the door. “Get some rest. We’ll close up the library.”
There weren’t many vampires who could pull off a suspicious look at their Master, but the Librarian managed it. “But, Sire . . .”
Ethan arched an eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain we can turn off the lights and close the door. We probably won’t even allow Malik to test the sprinkler system.”
The Librarian’s expression was dour. “That’s not funny.”
Ethan just smiled. “Take a break. Have a drink. Get some rest.”
Paige pushed back her chair. “Maybe I’ll have some sort of brainstorm in a dream.” Although the sun wouldn’t affect her the way it did us, many other supernaturals slept during the day, as if they’d adapted to our schedule.
She glanced at us. “You’re heading out, too?”
Ethan smiled. “As soon as we see that you’re tucked away.”
“In that case, we’re out,” the Librarian said, and led her to the door.
“I’m surprised he doesn’t sleep on a cot in the back,” I muttered when the door closed behind them.
Ethan grinned. “He requested it when we remodeled the House and added the library. He’s very committed to his job.”
“So’s Margot, but I don’t think she sleeps in the pantry.” Not that that would be a bad way to go. “I didn’t know the library wasn’t original.”
He frowned, gesturing to the space. “There was a room, more akin to a study than an actual library. The Librarian created the initial plan, coordinated the assemblage of our collection. I don’t think he would be offended to hear me call it his life’s passion. Well, other than Paige. He is a man in love.”
I smiled. “She’s the only one who gets to call him Arthur. That’s sign enough.”