A Book of Spirits and Thieves - Morgan Rhodes Page 0,56
showed off her long legs. Then the moment their backs were turned, Jackie would have disappeared from the home like a puff of smoke, the book tucked under her arm.
“But what is it, Dr. Vega?” Crys asked, knowing she had yet to uncover the most vital information about the book. “What is the Bronze Codex?”
She expected him to brush off the question, just as her mother had, to change the subject to something safe and distracting. But instead, he studied her for exactly five seconds before pulling a scientific journal out of his lower desk drawer, flipping through the pages, and turning it around so she could read the heading.
Obsidia: A Magical Language from Another World
By Dr. Uriah Vega, PhD
The article was dated fifteen years ago.
“I wrote this shortly after I completed my doctorate,” he explained. “So foolish, looking for credentials and praise, ignoring the potential danger that going public with such information would cause.”
Crys read the heading three times, not understanding. “Fifteen years ago. So around the same time your father and that woman were killed.”
His expression darkened. “That’s right. That’s why I feel personally responsible for their deaths, and why I’ll never forgive myself.”
This article had potentially caused two people with direct knowledge of the book to be murdered.
It’s possible all this was just a coincidence, Crys thought. Or, if it wasn’t, that Markus King isn’t responsible.
But then who was this man to whom her father was so loyal?
“Obsidia is the language in the book?”
“Obsidia is what my father called it. I have retained that name as I try to translate it. I will admit that most of the scholars who’ve read this paper have ridiculed my hypothesis.”
“Your hypothesis that Obsidia is a magical language from another world.”
“Yes.”
She had to admit, it did sound completely insane.
“Here’s what I believe, Miss Hatcher,” he said gravely. “Are you ready for my theory—a theory that your aunt also believes?”
“More than ready.”
“Sixty years ago, this book appeared in Toronto, out of nowhere. Because of some other . . . strange circumstances in her life, the woman who found it believed it was something she needed to hide from others seeking it. So hide it she did, holding her secret to her chest for years before she trusted my father enough to share it with him.
“My father told me that the moment he saw the Codex, the moment he touched it, he knew that it was incredibly rare and special. He had worked with rare books—so-called grimoires and spell books from many cultures and ages—but he’d never come across something that affected him at first sight as this one did. This language, he believed, could potentially unlock the mysteries of the universe—and could imbue great power on anyone who can read and comprehend such a language. This . . . the Bronze Codex . . . is a book of spells from another world, Miss Hatcher.”
Crys felt the color drain from her face with every word he spoke. Her hands were cold, clammy.
A book of spells. Real magic . . . from another world. Did she believe that?
“What does Markus King have to do with this book?” she asked, breathless.
Dr. Vega placed one palm flat against the binder, his other on top of the paper he’d written. “All I can say is, I know that he wants it and he’s more than willing to kill for it.”
When she didn’t reply right away, the words sticking in her throat at this flat proclamation, he flipped further through the binder to an illustration of what looked like an ornate stone wheel. “Such detail. It’s incredible, don’t you think?”
Crys moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue before she found her voice. “You said this book is not from our world.”
Vega nodded gravely. “That is both my father’s and my hypothesis, yes.”
Crys realized she was clutching the strap of her bag, still slung over her shoulder, so tightly that her fingers had gone numb. She loosened her grip. “Are you talking about outer space and, like, intergalactic travel?”
He shook his head. “No little green men here, Miss Hatcher. Many believe our world to be the only one, but this is arrogant thinking. Then there are those whose minds are open to more flexible possibilities. It would be best and easiest for you to picture these other worlds as . . . parallel dimensions. And I believe the Codex . . .” He caressed the binder as one might do to a lover’s cheek. “It