Until I Die - By Plum, Amy Page 0,50
that were catalogued by book title. And to my utter astonishment, there it was— Immortal Love—spelled out in old-fashioned typewriter letters. I stood there and gawked at it, incredulous that it had been so easy to find. Underneath the title, Gaspard had typed in French “Ill um. manu. 10th century, Fr.,” with a Gaspard Decimal System number in the upper right corner. I memorized the number and went searching.
And it was . . . not as easy as I had thought. The book wasn’t on the shelf where it should have been, which was full of archival boxes, conceivably holding other ill uminated manuscripts. And it wasn’t on any of the neighboring shelves. I worked my way around the room, trying once more to get a feel for Gaspard’s organization. Near the windows I spied a set of shelves that weren’t jam-packed full of books like the others. And upon closer investigation, I saw a small metal plaque attached to the front of the bookcase engraved with the words à LIRE. “To read.” My heartbeat accelerated as I ran my fingers over the spines and noticed that they were organized by number as well. Thank the OCD gods, I thought, and then I saw it. The correct number—on the spine of an archival box. I opened it and there it was: bound in the same rust-colored leather as Papy’s copy.
I lifted the book out and carefully replaced the box in its spot. Then, carrying it to a small table stacked high with assorted volumes, I sat and opened the cover. There they were, Goderic and Else, holding hands in a portrait that was almost identical to the one in Papy’s book.
I had begun turning the pages, carefully, toward the passage about the guérisseur, when I heard footsteps approach and the doorknob begin to creak. Panicking, I dropped the book into my bag, grabbed another volume from a stack in front of me, and opened it.
The sparrowlike figure of Violette stepped through the door. “Kate!” she cried, and came over to where I sat to give me cheek-kisses. “What are you doing here?”
“Gaspard canceled my fight training, so I thought I’d just hang out and read.”
Violette looked over my shoulder at the book I had opened. “You are reading about snake anatomy?” she asked, confused.
I looked down to see that the page held an illustration of a dissected snake, with Latin terms identifying the different bones and organs. “Um, yeah. I find nature . . . fascinating!” I cringed inside. I sounded like the head of the Geek Patrol.
She closed the book and sat down on the table facing me. “So Vincent is dormant. Would you like to do something?” I grinned. “I’m actually having lunch with Georgia, but I could meet you afterward for an afternoon showing.”
“We can both have a look at Pariscope and then telephone each other. Should we say around four o’clock?”
“Perfect,” I said, standing. Violette wasn’t going anywhere, and I was dying to have a look at the book. I could have read it there, right in front of her, but it would have seemed weird to be hiding something from Jean-Baptiste’s collection in my purse. I would just have to return it later. Gaspard had so many volumes on his “To read” shelves that I was sure he wouldn’t miss it.
“You are finished with your snake reading?” Violette asked jokingly.
“Um, yeah,” I said weakly as I headed toward the door. “See you later then. I’ll text you with my top movie picks.” She smiled and waved before heading toward the card catalogue.
I closed the door behind me, my heart thumping away as I felt awash in a tide of guilt. What in the world was I doing? I was sure JB and Gaspard wouldn’t mind me using the library, but taking an old, valuable book home with me? I couldn’t imagine they would be very happy about that. I’ll bring it back tomorrow, I thought, and made my way out of the house of the dead and back into the world of the living.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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EIGHTEEN
I SAT IN MY ROOM, STARING AT THE TWO OLD books that lay open side by side on my bed. The word that had been crossed out in Papy’s book was easily legible in Jean-Baptiste’s copy—it was “Audoniens.” However, the “Sign of the Cord” bit had been crossed out so thoroughly that it was impossible to decipher. Both books were needed to fit together the puzzle pieces: the