The Moonstone (Enchantment Book 1) (3 page)

The sound of turning pages and footsteps are the only ones admitted here, and believe me, the guardian of the location is very firm on that one. My boss, Gisèle, I never found out her last name, rules the library with an iron fist. She never smiles, not even small ones for approval, she offers only a permanent cold, authoritarian front. She is most impressive to look at: salt and pepper hair pulled into a tight bun at the back, crooked nose punctuated with a wart on the end, a prominent chin and a humpback. She has always inspired fear, and not only in me. As popular as the library is, everyone respects the law of silence in order to avoid the old biddy’s rage. If anyone dares speak or cough, she comes out of her reverie and brandishes her cane while barking at the offender; it’s pretty shocking, let me tell you. I know, I shouldn’t submit to the anger of such a bully, but I can’t see myself doing any other work at the moment, so I do what I can to stay out of her way.

One of the advantages of working in a library is that I can always get first crack at the new arrivals. I love the fact that we are allowed to read the book before anyone else, even before the book is stamped. Now I only have one goal in mind and that’s to head for the back room and grab the book I’ve been expecting for months: a book about the impact of mythology on current culture, five hundred pages of pure pleasure.

Sadly, to reach my destination I have to pass in front of the old goat. So, I give her my most winning smile and a nod and hope to get by her in the most nonchalant way possible. She raises her eyes briefly from her paperwork to scowl at me, without even moving her head, and returns immediately to her work without even a “Hello Lou, how are you?” Not that I would be expecting one. Anyways, I prefer that she ignores me and lets me exit quickly with my book.

I head towards the back, towards the object of my desire. I push open the door and spot it there, on top of a pile of newly arrived books. I smile as I think about all that I will learn from this book. There’s an illustration of Thor on the front cover, the superhero of popular films who was inspired by Scandinavian mythology.

While quickly turning pages, I notice a glowing light out of the corner of my eye. I turn towards the light and it seems to be coming from Gisèle’s private office. At that moment I hear her launch into a tirade about someone who is walking too loudly through the building…that lets me know that she’s still on guard at the front desk. I dare to approach her office to better identify the strange glow. Normally the old bat always locks her office, but I’ll try the door anyway; maybe she didn’t bother with the lock, as I wasn’t supposed to be here today. I must have missed my calling and should have been a detective; I was right, it is unlocked.

One last glance toward the door to the main library, still closed, it’s my green light! This will be the first time that I enter the lion’s den. I open the door with all the delicacy that my awkward hands can muster. The walls are covered, floor to ceiling with books, all organized by size and color. I’m not surprised, as Gisèle loves order to the smallest detail. I would love to spend hours going over each of the titles, but I must move quickly if I’m to discover the light source before Gisèle finds me here.

Once in the office I notice a weak glow coming out from under a cloth that is draped over the massive wooden desk. I lift the fabric and what I reveal leaves me speechless, it’s a large manuscript whose pages are bordered with glowing golden reliefs! Incredible! How could something like this be possible? The aged, leather cover is magnificent. I run my fingers over it, feeling each detail of the embossed motif. There is a tree in the middle of a six-sided star, which is surrounded by a circle. I quickly grab my cellphone and take a photo of this incredible work. Opening the book, I notice that the pages are yellowed with age and that makes me nostalgic. How old could this book be? I look at the hand-written inscription:

Beware; once you have read these words, there is no going back.

After reading the inscription, the book’s glow concentrates into a single point of light, which travels quickly to my fingers and then to my hand as a whole. What’s going on? This makes no sense. I must be hallucinating. My hand glows like a firefly on a summer’s night. I stare at it and instantly close the book. At that same moment my hand returns to its normal coloring. I’m breathless and don’t understand how a book can do something so strange. I notice that the book no longer glows, and decide that I must have imagined the whole thing. But as I’m curious, I touch the book once more when suddenly I hear Gisèle slide her chair back along the floor. I absolutely must leave here or I’ll surely end up spending the rest of my holidays doing her filing. I drape the cloth back over the book and leave her office as quickly as I can, closing the door behind me, and just in time as the other door opens at that very moment. Gisèle enters the room and looks at me suspiciously. Is it obvious? Do I have the word “indiscreet” stamped on my forehead?

“What are you doing here, Miss Mills? Shouldn’t you be on vacation?” she asks, with a grating voice while striding towards me.

“Oh! Yes, I came to pick up a book that I’ve been expecting. It’s right here. I’m taking it with me on vacation. I’m leaving now. Thanks. Have a nice day!”

I grab my book as I run by and leave in a whirlwind without looking at the old biddy. I can feel her beady eyes drilling into the back of my head and that’s plenty for me. No need to subject myself to one of her interrogations…I’m as bad a liar as Pinocchio! I leave the building as quickly as possible and without looking back. I walk a little further, turn to face the building and sit down on a park bench to go over what just happened.

I take out my cellphone and look closely at the image; I notice that the symbol looks a little like the windows that border the library’s mezzanine, strange! I decide to look it up on the Internet; maybe I can find an explanation there. I Google it and find something called the pentacle of the tree of life. According to the definition, the word pentacle is derived from the Greek pan, which signifies “all”, and is a representation of a talisman and a carrier of magic. The sight of a Greek word makes me smile and I continue my investigation… the six-armed star is the Star of David, and in a circle, it is the seal of Solomon, which represents the spirit in harmony with the four elements. According to legend, King Solomon possessed a magical ring that gave him the power to control demons and genies. The tree signifies space and the cosmos. While I assimilate this information, I can’t help but hear the phrase in my head:
There is no going back.

I also remember my hand and the light that enveloped it. Why does Gisèle have such a book in her possession? After a few more minutes spent digesting this information I have to admit to myself, I’ll never know the truth and I certainly won’t be asking Gisèle for the answer to that question. I need to go home, it’s late and I’m starving since I haven’t had a crumb to eat since breakfast this morning. Maybe it’s because of my long nap, but I feel in great shape and even manage to run home without feeling winded, incredible! My training sessions must finally be paying off. I arrive home in less than twenty minutes…mind blowing.

I head straight into the kitchen without even taking the time to take off my shoes. After all, there’s nobody around to call me on it. I open the fridge to see what I can make for myself, but I know from the outset that my lack of talents in the kitchen leaves me very few options. It will have to be a “Lou Special”, that’s a peanut butter, chocolate and banana sandwich; it’s a real treat. To get me in the mood, I hook up my phone to the sound system and crank up AC DC’s “Thunderstruck”. After performing a couple air guitar solos, my rumbling stomach calls me to order. I take a wooden spoon and begin my culinary creation. Between two slatherings of chocolate, I head towards the peanut butter, which is on the other end of the counter, but as I start to move, the jar begins its own journey and slides down the granite countertop, stopping only as it reaches me. Panic-stricken, I drop the glass jar of chocolate spread I’m holding, which shatters into a thousand pieces on the floor. I’m mortified. How can something like this happen? I’m convinced that I must be crazy and hallucinating. But the jar of peanut butter is actually right beside me. That’s the end of my hunger. I grab the offensive jar and throw it in the garbage can…I’m not sure why, but a peanut butter jar that moves by itself is certainly not normal! There’s also no way I’m going to leave the garbage bag in my house.

Once outside, I notice a car coming down my street; it’s not just any car, but a light green 1970s Beetle, which is certainly not commonplace around here. In fact, I only know of one other person in the area who owns one, and that’s Gisèle. Is she coming for me? Did she see me snooping around in her office? She must surely know that I saw her strange book. I hold my breath for a moment and feel a rush of relief as she drives past my house. In fact, she turns into the witch’s driveway. Wait a minute, I hope that she’s not the new owner; I have to see her enough at work without having to rub shoulders with her in my neighborhood. I sit down on the swing and wait to see what happens next.

A few minutes later another old car appears in the street. This one is a 1940s Ford Coupe. Magnificent! I have a real passion for classic cars, as they’re a part of our history. At the wheel is a man in his early thirties. His car slows down in front of my house and he turns to shoot me an intense stare before quickly nodding and then accelerating. His style is older than he looks, kind of like Clark Gable in “Gone With The Wind”. The same hair, slicked to the side and the same perfectly trimmed moustache. He also turns down the driveway of the abandoned house. Is there a classic car show going on next door that I haven’t heard about?

I must absolutely find out what’s going on over there; I’m completely intrigued.  I don’t hesitate long as I love adventure and let’s just say that after all that happened today, nothing would surprise me. I take the small, forested path in front of my house, hoping to hide under the leafy canopy. After a few steps and multiple wild raspberry scratches, I arrive in front of the house and am presented with a great view of it.

There are three people gathered there; the man, Gisèle and a third, but I can only see white hair on the person’s shoulder. Gisèle steps to the side of the beat-up front stoop and my heart stops. A couple of feet in front of me is the source of all my nightmares; the old witch is there, alive and real. She doesn’t seem to have aged. That being said, I’m not sure how she could look any older than at my first sighting of her, as she looked then to have one foot in grave, so by now, she should be six feet under. But, looking at her now, I can tell that she’s exactly as I remember her, right down to the smallest detail. The sight of her still causes my blood to run cold. I want to run away, but I’m afraid that any sudden movements on my part might attract their attention, and that’s the last thing I want to do at the moment.

I feel feverish and a little bit nervous; I have to say that I’ve always dreamed of going on adventures like those in my books. I only hope that this one has a happy ending… The only thing I ask myself is this: if the woman is still alive, why haven’t I seen her until this week? We don’t live on different planets; I live only a few feet from her. While I’m thinking, the three enter the house. Dang! How am I going to figure out what’s going on here? I need to get closer, I’m already invested and I want to take this right to the end. There’s a window at the front and a wild cherry tree right underneath it; I can easily hide in there. I count to three and start to run. In a couple of long strides I cross the yard and reach the bushy tree. Super! There’s just enough room for me to hide. Just as I slide behind it, the front door opens and the three exit, each wearing a brown linen cape. Are they cult members and this house is the place they come to do their sacrifices? The idea is laughable though; I can only imagine Gisèle taking part in some sort of sacrifice. Although, she is pretty scary when she waves her cane around in the air. Gisèle seems to sense that someone is spying on her because she approaches the bush and gives it a suspicious look. Oh my God! I’m cooked, and I’ll lose my job on top of it! That’ll teach me to give in to my curiosity.

“Gisèle, come, we don’t have much time and we have to act fast,” said the man in a deep voice while grabbing the librarian’s frail shoulder to turn her around.

The old biddy is guided away from the bush and joins the other two as they walk toward the backyard. Ouch! I’m safe, at least for the moment. That makes twice today that I just missed being unmasked, I hope it won’t be “bad things come in threes”. I want to find out what they’re doing, so, sticking closely to the wall of the house, I make my way towards the back yard. I will go slowly so I don’t end up face to face with the white-haired lady and be forced to awkwardly ask her if I can borrow some sugar, which would be a little hard to believe. I peek around the corner of the house and spot them all standing in a circle around a hearth made of fieldstone. Gisèle is holding a leather bag and from it she pulls the book that I saw earlier at the library. The man throws some sort of powder into the pit and a couple of seconds later they are standing in front of a blazing fire.

The white-haired lady raises her arms into the air and pronounces words in a language that I don’t recognize. The scene is terrifying and I can’t contain my fear. I let out a strident scream and three pairs of eyes turn instantly on me. There’s no way I’m going to stand here and wait for them to cook me for supper, so I run back towards my house as quickly as I can.

With my newly acquired running skills I’m back home in what seems to be a couple of seconds. I lock all the doors and run to hide myself in the bathroom with my cellphone. I start running a bath in the hopes that they’ll forget about me and that they don’t come to break down the door.