The Merlin Effect by T.A. Barron

Author:T.A. Barron [Barron, T.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: v3.0
Published: 1993-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

XV: The Red Volume

Kate awoke, more tired than when she had lain down to rest. Her mouth tasted strangely rancid, despite a lingering sweetness in the air. She stared at the glassless window, watching the vapors swirling outside, trying to recall a vague memory. Something about the window . . .

She rolled over, exhausted. It must be the constant half-light down here. How could Geoffrey ever sleep well, let alone keep track of the months and years? He had no sunrises and sunsets to guide him, no waxing and waning moon, no stars swimming overhead.

Besides, it was hot. Uncomfortably hot. Why did she have any need for a blanket? She threw aside her cover, then felt a piercing pain in her wrist.

Seeing the bloody wound on her skin, she gasped. Tearing a strip of cloth from the tail of her blue cotton shirt, she gingerly wrapped the injured arm. Such a deep cut! Strange I don’t remember getting it. She paused before tying the bandage. Something else was odd about this cut, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It looked almost like . . . teeth marks. But of course that was impossible.

At that moment, Geoffrey yawned with the subtlety of a fog horn. Stretching his bony arms skyward, he shook his wild mane, scratched behind his neck, and, only then, opened his eyes.

“Yes,” he crowed, “nothing like a good nap.” He glanced her way. “Good morning to you, Miss Gordon.”

“Call me Kate, all right?”

“Would you prefer Maid Kate?”

“Kate is fine.”

The hawklike nose grew slightly pink. “My, such familiarity! As you wish, then. Good morning to you, Kate.” With sudden concern, he added, “Why, you’re wounded.”

“I’m fine,” she replied, tying the knot. “Just a scratch.”

“Happens to me at least once a fortnight,” consoled Geoffrey. “Did you find any success with the riddle?”

Kate merely frowned.

“Have a date, then.” He picked one off the floor himself. “We shall eat something more substantial later. But first, I must practice my lessons.”

“Lessons?”

Sliding the chair closer to the desk, he reached for the leather book. “A few of Merlin’s gems, that’s all. After centuries of practice, I have mastered only a few. Still, progress is progress.”

Kate eyed the battered volume. “What is it, a magician’s handbook?”

“You might call it that. It is a compendium of some of my mentor’s wisdom, which I collected from learned sources over many years, then recorded in my own hand. Otherwise I could never remember any of it.”

Cracking open the book, he paused at the first page, greeting it like an old friend. To Kate’s surprise, the page was covered with slashes, curves, and crosses—the same secret language her father had spoken about. All except for six lines at the top, which were written in letters, but not words, she could recognize.

“What language is that?” she asked, pointing to the first six lines.

“Why, it’s Latin, of course.” Geoffrey looked at her askance. “Did you never go to school?”

“Sure,” she answered. “I just, ah, missed Latin. What does it say?”

“Well,” he sniggered, “it’s my personal inscription.

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