“How’s that?” Sabine asked.
“He’s been hexed.” Ethan sat down next to Sabine. “He can’t answer questions about who employed him or why.”
Sabine’s gaze swept over the ransacked shelves. “What do you mean hexed?”
“Hexed, cursed,” Adne said. “Whatever you want to call it.”
“Black magic?” Sabine’s frown deepened. “How is that possible?”
“Why wouldn’t it be possible?” Connor twirled a lock of Adne’s hair in his fingers. She batted his hand away, but not without throwing a teasing smile his way.
“Because the Rift is closed and the Harbinger is gone,” Sabine said. “I thought that meant the Keepers’ magic was cut off.”
“The magic from the Harbinger, yeah,” Connor said. “So no wraiths, but magic—basic magic—is still around. That won’t ever go away.”
“Don’t sweat it.” Ethan put his arm around Sabine’s shoulders. “Black magic keeps us employed. We have to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand.”
“So you think Logan is behind this hex?” Sabine asked, pulling Ethan’s arm further around her so she could nestle against him. “And the theft?”
“He’s our number one suspect,” Ethan said. “Wait—replace number one with only. Only suspect.”
Adne smiled, but her eyes remained worried. “Why did he want those books?”
“What were they about?” Connor asked. He’d picked up pieces of a broken vase and was entertaining himself by trying to fit them back together.
“That’s what worries me,” Adne said. “They were about the Keepers’ heritage. Family lines. Legacies.”
“You’re worried because Logan’s checking out his family tree?” Sabine asked. “Maybe he’s just lonely. After all, he’s the only Keeper left, right?”
“No, he’s not.” Ethan frowned. “There are a few younger Keepers still scattered around the world. They’ve gone into hiding, trying to prevent us from tracking them down. Though it’s sort of a moot point. I think they’re more paranoid about us finding them than we’re interested in hunting them. They’re harmless now. Just humans dabbling in the dark arts.”
“Exactly,” Adne said.
Connor dropped the vase fragments. They broke into even smaller pieces when they hit the floor. “I think you skipped a few steps. I didn’t get a resolution from that conversation.”
Adne smiled. “Sorry. I mean that the younger Keepers, who didn’t end up as withered husks because they weren’t living on borrowed time like Lumine Nightshade, are still out there. But they don’t have power—at least, not power like they used to.”
“You think Logan wants to get it back.” Sabine ground her teeth.
“Maybe . . . probably,” Adne said. “The books that are missing aren’t only family trees. They recount the origins of the Keepers.”
“Hmm,” Connor said. “Oh . . . uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh is an understatement.” Ethan fingered the hilt of the dagger belted at his waist.
Sabine asked, “Can he do it? Find a way to restore their power?”
Adne rubbed her temples, suddenly looking weary. “I don’t know and I’m not sure how we find out. Logan took the books that hold the clues we need.”
“But we do have this.” Connor produced a small wooden box from inside his long leather duster. “Check it out.”
“What’s that?” Sabine asked. She took the box from him, since Adne’s head was still bowed. The box was intricately carved of ebony wood, and it was locked.
“We took this off the thief we did manage to catch,” Connor said. “It was the only thing he was carrying. The other guy had the books.”
“Hmm.” Sabine ran her fingers over the patterns and deep grooves of the wood. “I wonder what’s inside.”
“Let’s find out,” Connor said. He snatched the box out of Sabine’s hands and picked the lock. He opened it, peered inside, and frowned.