I had a vision of myself stepping on one of the stones set into the floor in front of the door, but nothing about the carved stones around the door jam. They were important, though. I could feel it.
I withdrew my hand. “Let’s ask the others.”
I took my phone from my pocket and snapped a picture, then texted it to Eve with a note that said:
The protective spell on Ubhan’s door. Any idea how we get in?
My phone buzzed with a reply about thirty seconds later:
Seraphia says they are the months of the year, written in Sanskrit. Press them in order.
The end of the text included the translations for the months.
“Thank fates we have a friend who’s a librarian.” I raised my hand, ready to press the stone.
“Wait.” Grey gripped my shoulder gently. “Ancient sorcerers used to start the year in June. They don’t anymore, but he may have done it that way.”
I nodded, moving my hand toward June. One after the other, I pressed the stones, feeling them vibrate beneath my touch. The last one pulsed hardest, and the door began to glow.
Grey reached for it, twisting the knob, but nothing happened. The vibration increased.
“An alarm,” Grey said. “We’re missing part of the spell.”
Shit.
Heart racing, I studied the door, searching for the clue. The trembling became a loud hum that grew, climbing to a shriek.
My gaze went to a spot on the floor. The stones looked unassuming, but one of them matched what I’d seen in my vision.
I pressed my foot on it, hard.
The stone depressed, and the alarm stopped.
I sagged, relief chilling my skin.
Grey tried the door again, and this time, it opened easily. We slipped inside, and he closed the door behind us. I leaned against the wood, panting.
“Did you hear the alarm?” Grey spoke quietly into his comms charm.
“No, you’re good,” Quinn responded. “I’ve just deployed the alarms on these doors. Your comms charm will ping when they are tripped.”
“Good,” I said. “Get out of there.”
“See you on the outside,” he replied. “Call for backup if you need it.”
We cut the connection, and I stared at the office.
It was filled to the brim with books and papers. Crowded shelves climbed to the ceiling fifteen feet above us.
“There have to be thousands of them,” I said. “Have you been in here before?”
“No,” said Grey. “He doesn’t let anyone in.”
Three huge tables and a massive desk were covered in papers, as if a mad scientist were hard at work.
At the edges of the room, a faint mist began to seep from beneath the walls. “What’s that?”
Grey frowned. “I’ve never seen the like.”