Grimoires and Where to Find Them by Raconteur, Honor (ebook reader for laptop .txt) 📕

The head librarian—Adams, according to the badge pinned to her shirt pocket—held onto my hand a moment longer, urging me silently to meet her eyes.

“Doctor, I just informed your partner that the last record we have of the grimoire being checked out was nigh on three months ago. It’s one of the books we rotate through on display so the general public has a chance to look at the rare books we keep here. According to our rotation schedule, it was out on display a week after it was checked out, and then supposedly put back on the shelves the next week.”

“Supposedly?” I hate that word. It means it didn’t actually happen.

Her thin mouth compressed to the point that it looked as if her lips had disappeared into her pale face altogether.

“The Reaper’s Set doesn’t look like anything remarkable on the outside: a dark leather binding with cream pages. There’s nothing distinguishable about it until you open it up. Someone switched it out for another book that looks quite similar. We didn’t discover it until RM Seaton came and requested to see the grimoire.”

Ah. Supposedly. “But the book’s dummy, did that come from here? Or was it something they brought in?”

“Detective Edwards asked the same question. It was one of ours, in fact. A book that’s normally kept on the shelf near the display case.”

I met Jamie’s eyes quickly, and her expression spoke volumes. This looked more like a spontaneous crime than one that had been plotted out. Using another library book in order to dupe the librarians was a bit risky. Bringing in a forged copy would have been the safer bet.

Of course, that assumption begged the question: How in the wide green world did a thief spontaneously steal something and get it past the wards?

It’s not a rhetorical question. I wanted an answer.

“And when you have it on display, is its protective box also there?”

“Yes, of course. The box is part of it,” she assured me. “The display case has a charm on its base to keep the magic of the grimoires under control while they are out of their box. It was specifically crafted for that purpose.”

“And both box and grimoire are missing?”

“No, just the grimoire. The box remained, hence why we didn’t notice the theft sooner.”

Because the missing box would have drawn attention. Clever of the thief to realize this. On the other hand, that meant we had yet another grimoire free of its protective box. This thought did not cheer me. In fact, it made bile rise in my throat. Wherever the grimoires were being held, they would definitely cause issues. Many, many issues. I’d not heard any reports of buildings losing their integrity, or an outbreak of sickness or madness, so it did beg the question of where they were being stored.

Perhaps a search of the records for rogue magic might be in order. Or a call to the local hospitals to see if anyone had checked in for unusual magical sickness. I made a mental note to pass along the idea to Jamie later, assuming she didn’t think of it herself.

Seaton caught my eye and motioned me back out of the room with a jerk of his head. I followed him out, past the counter and into the empty library. He stopped next to one of the tables lining the main floor and turned, still looking haggard and ready to sleep the rest of the year away.

“I think that’s how he got in,” he said without preamble. “Without the intention to steal, the wards wouldn’t reject his entry. Once inside, he could do as he pleased.”

I flipped a hand palm up, a silent acceptance.

“If this truly was a spontaneous crime, and his intent was only to visit, then you’re correct. The wards wouldn’t have triggered, and they would have let him through without a fuss. But what of his exit? If he was carrying the grimoire, the wards would have stopped him and set off quite the alarm. So, how did he get it back out?”

“I believe I’m here to provide you gents with some answers.”

I spun, startled to hear the teenage voice, looking sharply about for its source. In the time since I’d last seen him, it looked as if he’d gained five inches, and his voice had certainly dropped, but there in front of me stood Eddy Jameson. He was better dressed, with clean clothes that actually fit, but there was no mistaking that impish grin.

“Jameson,” Seaton acknowledged, sounding like death warmed over. “Jamie said she wanted to call you in. You came faster than I expected.”

“All in the line of duty,” Jameson answered brightly. “No worries, gents, I’ve cured my wicked ways. I now only sneak in to test the defenses. Queen loves me, she does, gave me a raise.”

I eyed him with due suspicion. This young lout had cost me hair the last time I’d crossed paths with him. I did not trust him farther than I could throw him. Considering his reflexes and new size, I doubted I could even readily lift him, so that should tell you something.

Seaton challenged this assertion immediately. “If you’re so good at testing the defenses of this place, then how did someone steal something and waltz off with it?”

Jameson lost his grin, looking determined. “Now, that bothers me, it does. I take it as a point of pride. Ain’t no one tap dancin’ on my turf, you see. When the Detective called me in, explained what was going on, I came here lickety-split to see it for my own self. Give me the facts, gents. I’ve got a theory or two on how it was done, but I need some facts to make a call.”

I was not at all inclined to talk to this young whelp. I still had ill feelings towards him. Fortunately for us all, Jamie chose to walk out of the file room at that moment, no doubt because she heard Jameson’s