A Book of Spirits and Thieves - Morgan Rhodes Page 0,57
must explicate the means to create a magical gateway between these worlds, which is how it got here in the first place.”
“A magical gateway?” She couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her tone. “You know that sounds crazy, right?”
He nodded now, as if in partial agreement. “So most have told me, but that’s done nothing to change my mind.” He flipped to the middle of the binder. “I’ve studied my father’s notes and sketches for years, and I’ve been poring over these photocopies ever since Jackie sent them to me, giving me my first glimpse at the book itself. This language—just as my father always claimed, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Nothing even comes close. I’m familiar with hundreds of languages, both modern and ancient. I learned ancient Babylonian in a month. I can translate hieroglyphics while simultaneously chewing gum and standing on my head. But this? This is the greatest undertaking of my life.”
“Because you can’t decipher it.”
“Don’t be so quick to assume, Miss Hatcher. Your aunt believes in my abilities; otherwise she never would have shared so many secrets with me. I believe with enough time, I can crack the code. Here.” He touched a page with one large line of script on it, surrounded by hawks and a drawing of a meadow with what looked like a glass city in the distance. “This word. I believe it could be evergreen. Perhaps never-ceasing . . . perpetual . . .” His gaze moved to hers. “Immortal.”
“Immortal,” she repeated, her mouth dry. “Maybe . . . maybe this is all just some sort of a hoax. There have always been con men throughout history who’ve tried to fake one-of-a-kind artifacts, right?”
He actually grinned at that, the maniacal smile of someone who doesn’t sleep much and who compensated for it daily with gallons of caffeine. A quick glance at the professor’s desk confirmed Crys’s hunch: There were multiple coffee mugs and Styrofoam cups strewn across the surface. “A fair assessment, but I know I’m right about this. Down to my very soul, I know.” He flipped forward again and pointed at an illustration of what looked to Crys like a squirrel, but with very long ears. “For example, this particular species does not and has never existed in our world.”
“That’s just a drawing. Mickey Mouse isn’t actually a real mouse, either, you know.”
An edge of annoyance entered his gaze. “You want to deny what I’m saying, but I see in your eyes that you believe it could be true.”
“If it is,” she allowed, “do you feel safe here having those photocopies in your office? I mean, after what happened to your father?”
“I haven’t been visited by members of Markus King’s society for well over a decade. I haven’t published a thing about the Codex since my original paper, and I’m sure they’re well aware that any subsequent attempts to shed light on the matter have been mocked by my peers at every turn, all but discrediting any work I’ve ever done in the field. They believe my work in this area has ceased. That I am just a humble university professor with eccentric theories.”
“But they’re wrong,” she said.
He nodded. “It’s best that they think I’m nothing more than a fool.”
“I don’t think you’re a fool.” She had to confide in him. If Jackie trusted him, she would, too. “Dr. Vega, you have to help me. My sister, Becca, she’s in trouble.”
“What do you mean? What kind of trouble?”
“The Codex . . . she saw it. She touched it.”
“Oh my,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “So Jackie did manage to get the Codex back to Toronto. She is a woman no one should underestimate.”
So much for being vague. Dr. Vega was a whole lot savvier than he had originally appeared. He didn’t underestimate Jackie . . . and Crys wouldn’t underestimate him.
“Becca’s in a coma from touching the book. She started off catatonic, but now it’s turned into a full-blown coma.” A shiver sped down her spine. “The book did it to her. I need to know how to wake her up again.”
His brows drew together. “I’m sorry you have to deal with all this at your young age.”
Crys waved his concern away. “I held the book for as long as she did, and nothing happened to me. Why would it affect her and not me?”
His lips thinned. “I honestly don’t know. I’m sure many people have had physical contact with the book in the past, but