Unhallowed (Rath and Rune #1) - Jordan L. Hawk Page 0,43

he reached the end of the page, Sebastian silently passed the book to Ves. Ves’s brows drew down, and his frown deepened more and more as he read. When he was done, he said, “She didn’t tell you, though.”

Of all the things to trouble him, this should have been the least. And yet it wasn’t, and Ves had intuited it immediately.

“I gave up the right to know when I turned my back on the family tradition,” he said, and strove to keep his sorrow from his voice. “She was entitled to her secrets. I’m only surprised Kelly assumed she would have told me to start with.”

Ves leaned over and put his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Family tradition be damned. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting to live your own life. Or do you think I should have done what was expected of me, and helped end the world?”

“That’s different,” Sebastian objected.

“Only in scope. You wanted to be a librarian and an archivist, not a bookbinder and conservator. It was your life and your choice. You did nothing wrong.”

Sebastian’s chest ached, and his eyes burned. He blinked rapidly. “I…thank you. It means a great deal to hear that.”

Ves offered him a small, commiserating smile and let his hand fall. “I wonder if O’Neil might have taken the Historia Coelestis Britannica because of the connection to Halley.”

Grateful for the change of subject, Sebastian said, “I’m no expert on astronomy, but Arthur said this particular copy had Flamsteed’s thoughts on him. Still, it was just a catalog of stars. It wouldn’t have had information on the comet itself.”

“Perhaps there was something he discovered which led him to that book,” Ves suggested. “He then took it without bothering to note that he was borrowing it, because he meant to bring it back promptly.”

“He wasn’t stealing it, so the curses let him leave with it,” Sebastian murmured. “So this doesn’t have anything to do with the rare book trade. You were right.” For a moment, he let his relief that Kelly hadn’t betrayed the library overwhelm him before realizing the implications. “He didn’t run off and sell it. And, judging by this, he didn’t just quit abruptly on a whim.” He met Ves’s gaze. “Do you think he’s still alive?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Ves said. “But I doubt it. I’m sorry.”

Sebastian bowed his head and let out a sigh. “Do you think whomever hired those men to follow me believes I know more than I do? That Kelly confided in me?”

“It seems likely.” Ves ran a hand through his hair, leaving it mussed. “What do you think about the actual contents of what O’Neil wrote? These Books of the Bound? Nathanial Ladysmith signed the blood oath you found in my desk, so it sounds as though he was in some way involved.”

“Whatever they are, Kelly thought one of those volumes was in the library.” Sebastian took the notebook from Ves. He flipped back a page, but rather than an explanation, found a list titled Known Works by Alexander Dromgoole. “It seems he had developed a fascination with the Ladysmith’s architect.”

Ves lifted the dusty lid from the box on the desk. “Letters. Addressed to Dromgoole.” He went to the larger box on the floor. “This one seems to contain architectural drawings. What do you bet they’re by him?”

“Not a bet I’ll take,” Sebastian said. He lifted the first letter from the stack in the box. Something about the handwriting nagged at him, though he couldn’t say what. “It doesn’t look as though this one was ever posted. There isn’t even a stamp.” He inspected it more carefully. “It looks as though someone slit open the envelope, though. Kelly?”

“Maybe.” Ves looked up from where he sat on the floor now, sorting through the drawings. “What does it say?”

Sebastian took out the letter and opened it carefully.

December 21, 1860

My darling Alex,

Perhaps I should cease writing letters to you. Some might call the practice morbid, given that you are shut away in that dreadful place in Taunton. Others might say this is my way of denying that the price you paid for our great work is permanent, that your mind will never be your own again.

I have asked myself these things, over and over. It destroys my heart to imagine you in that place. I know the man I loved is gone, but seeing his body in such conditions, screaming and ranting and begging, is too much.

So perhaps this does allow me some denial. If nothing else,