The golden book fluttered open before Annika’s eyes. The pages were pristine white with words written by hand. It wasn’t the same writing as Jack’s, neither in handwriting nor word choice. There were diagrams on some pages, lightweight in line-work, gracefully demonstrating complicated spells. The book stopped one of them. A circular pattern with triangles radiating outwards, containing symbols and glyphs that called on powers one might invoke for gateways and passages into other places. A crescent moon was arranged in the very center.

There were three paragraphs of words written beneath it. Some of the words glowed with golden light.

[i]-his realm of autumnal shade.

Alone in there-

-not another soul to-

-see.

-us.

How, when-

-describes a kind of poison-[/i]

And the glowing words went dim. Then the pages shuffled once more, dozens going by until it settled onto a blank section. No words were on the page, but there were photographs instead glued in and arranged meticulously by some means. They showed Jack when he wasn’t much older than Annika, with that same strange individual from the visions. They looked happy.

The book was questioning her. Like it had a mind of its own.