Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
He hadn’t realized it had pockets until that moment, but of course Katrina would demand clothing both stunning and practical. When she withdrew her hand, it was with a copy of a handbound but extremely thin book that appeared brand-new.
“The original was located in deep storage in the home of an angel of whom you need not know—he prefers to be left alone,” Katrina said. “I talked him through how to create a scan using a device that I had shipped to him.”
Vivek didn’t ask how the book had been located; that would be like asking a magician for their tricks. “Did you do the binding?” he asked instead. “It’s excellent work.”
“No. That was Xai.”
“Well, I didn’t see that coming.”
“Even a spy cannot know all the world’s secrets.”
Leaning back with a grin, he put his flute beside hers, then accepted the book. The image on the cover made his breath catch.
36
Vivek had seen the mark before—on Raphael’s temple.
Jessamy had also sent him images of the same symbol in old places in the Refuge. No one knew why the carvings had been done, or when.
Vivek had always thought they might be remnants of the last time the Legion had risen.
“That is a true copy of the book,” Katrina said as he traced the lines of the image. “I watched my acquaintance every step of the way. He didn’t attempt to skip or hide anything. For him, there was no reason to do so. He was far more interested in the scanner.”
Nodding, Vivek opened the book to the first page of text, but the moonlight wasn’t strong enough for him to read the words. He took out his phone, shone the light on a language that meant nothing to him.
“I can’t read it,” Katrina said before he could ask. “Even my acquaintance—who is very, very old—couldn’t read it. He did say it appears somewhat similar to the old angelic tongue—the one that is passed down from generation to generation unchanged.”
Vivek’s instinctive reaction was to argue that language always changed, but then he consciously considered what she’d said. And realized he’d missed a specific bit of angelic culture. “So that any angel who wakes after a long Sleep can still talk to other angels?”
An incline of her head, the diamonds glinting in the moonlight. “Old angels pick up languages at rapid speed, but even they can’t absorb it the minute they wake.”
“Smart.” Vivek continued to flip through the pages, hoping for another image, but there were none. “Is your acquaintance older than Lady Caliane?”
A pause. “No,” she said at last. “I’m fairly certain she is the elder. You should also send a copy of the text to the Librarian. The angelic Library holds exemplars of dead tongues.”
He hadn’t known that, either; it irritated him. Vivek hated being out of the loop. “If you can’t read it, and your friend couldn’t, either—”
“—acquaintance,” she corrected, ice creeping over her tone once more.
Wondering at their history, Vivek said, “If your acquaintance couldn’t read it, either, then—”
“—why do I believe this may be linked to the myth with which you first came to me?” Katrina completed, then turned the book over in his hands until he was staring at the back cover . . . and an image of that unusual evil eye.
Staring, pulsating red.
“During my search for further information on your odd little myth,” she said, “I found another myth connected to it. The available text, too, bore the image of the evil eye.” She once again reached into her pocket, this time to retrieve a piece of paper folded in four.
When Vivek opened it, he saw it was a photocopy of what looked like an ancient book. The evil eye sat at the very top of the page. “Ancient Greek?” he said, after running his eye over the lines. “I can’t read it, but I recognize it.”
“Yes. It states: ‘Watch, it was said in the Book of Marduk. Watch for evil. When it rises, come together in defense against it. Only together will the world hold. Apart, civilizations will splinter and empires will fall. This was said. The’—and there’s a word there with no translation that I can find, but it is similar to Psyche.”
“Like the mythical goddess?”
“Yes, but I am using it only as a placeholder, remember that. It is not quite Psyche, but it is no other known word, either. I checked with a scholar whose native tongue was Ancient Greek.”
Even as Vivek digested the information that Katrina knew someone who’d lived in the time the language was spoken, she went back to her translation. “His suggestion was that for translation purposes, I translate it as the ‘soul.’ If I do that, the line reads: ‘The soul has been broken and must be melded together again for the body to hold. Else there is but death and rebirth from the ashes.’ ”