Cassandra Reed and the Curse of Mordred

Chapter 9

The Carnivorous Codex

"And here we have the dungeon – er – library."

George deposited Cass before a pair of polished walnut doors. Vines of sturdy iron twined around the frame before coalescing around an intricate lock. The interlacing swirls of metal and wood reminded her of the Art Nouveau architecture she had fawned over as a child while visiting Paris. The delicate design was a stark contrast to the weighty gothic architecture of the rest of the castle.

It was the kind of juxtaposition that sparked one's curiosity.

"It's not too late to turn back, you know." George grinned, gesturing toward the hallway that led back to the training grounds.

"Not a fan?"

"You could say my brother and I weren't on the best of terms with the librarian." Something in his voice wavered, though it was just as quickly replaced with the lopsided grin Cass was beginning to recognize as his trademark.

She cast a skeptical eye at the lock. "I can't think if many libraries with this kind of security. Your doing?"

"They'd need more than a pretty lock to keep us out. But no. Peeves already caused enough of a ruckus in the library. We preferred to make a name for ourselves elsewhere."

He started as he checked his watch. "I really should be going. Good luck!"

Cass watched as the wizard took the stairwell two steps at a time.

Good luck? It was just a library, not a battlefield.

She dismissed his comment with a shake of the head as she entered the library, welcomed by the scent of parchment and aging leather.

Her eyes widened as she took in the space, for it was surely the most magical place she had ever seen.

Great oak shelves sprawled outward in a twisting labyrinth. Books of every shape and size rested on the edge of their nooks as though peering over the edge, waiting for the next curious student.

Cass stepped onto the main floor as motes of dust danced around her, illuminated by the soft light drifting in from arched windows along either side of the long hall.

It reminded her of her grandmother's garden, each nook and cranny full of possibility.

"Can I help you?"

Cass started, not realizing that a young witch had come up beside her. A wide brimmed hat cast the woman's face in shadow, the tall point sagging to one side.

Her face was stern, though her eyes were bright with a kind of curiosity that to which Cass immediately felt a kinship.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She started. "I didn't see you there. I'm Cass Reed. I'm…researching curses."

At the woman's critical stare, she continued. "Orion, Professor Morikawa, said this was the best place to start."

The witch's shoulders eased, and a small smile peaked out from beneath the hat.

Cass was not sure how many intruders a school library had, but she suspected it was not zero.

"Ah yes, Orion mentioned you would be stopping by. Though, I'm surprised he isn't with you. A new edition of Astonishing and Acclaimed Artifacts just arrived. I'm Isme Anagnostis, the Head Librarian and resident Hogwarts Historian."

"Pleasure to meet you." Cass said, meaning it. "I didn't know Hogwarts had their own historian."

Isme smiled before gesturing for Cass to follow her down one of the winding library aisles. "Not officially. Yet. It's in the works with the Headmistress. All sorts of things were unearthed during the rebuilding after the Battle for Hogwarts a couple decades ago. I'd just become a student and was just so frustrated that so much was being uncovered – or covered up –, but none of it documented. Or tracked. Or cared about at all, really! So many puzzles and mysteries just bricked up and forgotten –"

She paused, casting Cass a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I've been told that I can get a bit carried away."

"No apologies needed. Honestly, it's a relief to see someone acknowledging how interesting this place is. Everyone seems to walk around like it's just another building in the village. I'd love to learn more about this place, if you have the time later."

Isme's grin grew wider. "Oh, that's right! You're a muggle. This must be utterly staggering for you, no?"

"Oh, I'm not a –" Cass stuttered, surprised. Here, she thought she was supposed to pretend to be a squib. Clearly, that plan was going well.

"Come now," Isme tutted. "I've seen hundreds of students pass through those doors. It's only the muggle born who get a slack-jawed expression like you did."

Cass blinked, unsure of what to say. At this point, every person in the castle would know she did not belong.

"Don't look so worried." The witch sighed. "I'm not about to kick you out or anything. I'm just curious. I can't remember the last time a muggle came to Hogwarts. It's something that surely would be in the records though. I could start with…"

She gave a soft laugh. "Look at me. There I go again. Anyway, you'll find all you need to get started here." She gestured to a row of books that curled up against one wall. The light was dim, the nearest window blocked by intersecting bookcases. "Just remember to put the books back precisely where you found them. They've become quite territorial in their old age. If you need anything, just give a shout. I'm not one of those silent library types."

"Thank you." Cass replied. "I won't be a bother, I promise."

Isme's eyes twinkled. "Oh, it's the books I worry about more than you."

With that, the librarian strode off, her departing figure consumed by the shadows nesting between the towering shelves.

"You could just say, 'bye.'" Cass muttered. "Why does everyone here have to leave with something ominous."

Clearly, she had a thing or two to learn about wizarding ways.

She turned to the shelves Isme had indicated, noticing a small sign hanging askew from a nail along the shelf.

Section 6b: Curses and Dark Invocations. Sixth Years and above only.

For aberrant afflictions, please see Section 8f.

Cass rubbed at her sternum. A dull ache that never quite went away lingered at the spot where the sword had pierced her chest.

In the excitement of finding the library, she had almost forgotten about why she was here.

The curse, much like the magic around her, was becoming easier to ignore.

The thought worried her. There was nothing normal about this. Any of this.

Cass shivered.

It will devour you.

That's what the cultist had said right before Orion whisked them away to safety. What had he meant?

Were they just bitter words from a beaten man upset that she had stolen what he desired?

Or another ominous farewell that's simply how these wizards say, "toodle-oo?"

Her power was dangerous, but she did not otherwise feel any different. In fact, she felt more alive than she had in years. Hell, she even got out of bed without her usual thirty minutes of hoping she had caught a cold so that she would not have to get up.

Shaking her head to dispel the unease, Cass examined the shelf. Her hand trailed along the spines, the aging leather smooth beneath her fingertips.

Would these books help rid her of her curse? What would it look like if they could…would a sword just appear before her?

Then, she could return home armed with evidence of this clandestine and uncanny world. She could finally reclaim her place as an acclaimed investigative journalist.

Everything would be as it should.

She let herself rest in that heartbeat of possibility. If she just stayed there, she would not risk disappointment if answers were not there.

And if they were, she was wasting precious time.

Cass reached for the first book that called to her, the binding a deep blood red that was streaked through with age. Whispers of gilded script glinted along the spine, though the words were too faded to decipher.

She tugged it from the shelf, each movement as deliberate as though she were handling a feral creature.

But it was just a book, as inert as any other.

Cass released a soft laugh. She was being ridiculous. It was leather and parchment, no more, no less.

Sliding into a chair, she laid the book out before her. The pages crinkled delightfully as they opened, and Cass wondered just how old the tome was to earn such wear.

"Let's get started." She muttered, leaning over the scrawled handwriting.

She had to lean close to see the text. The ink has faded to a soft orange, as though it had been left outside in the sun.

Leaning closer, she moved one hand to spread the page flat, trying to find the right angle in the dim light.

Only, her hand would not move.

Cass let out a strangled gasp as she tried to tug her hand back, but the pages held her fast. With horror, she watched as the tips of her fingers disappeared within the parchment.

Another breath. Then, her knuckles.

"H – help!" She shouted, chair clanging to the ground as she lept to her feet. "Isme! Anyone?"

There was no response.

Panic clambered in Cass's chest as the book consumed more, up to her wrist now.

She could no longer feel her hand. It was as though it had never existed at all.

She tried to draw upon that cursed magic in her chest, but it was no use. It felt spent, as though her training with Orion had run the well dry.

Her thoughts became a chaotic jumble as fear surged through her.

Helpless. Magicless. A foolish muggle.

She was going to be eaten by a goddamn book.

What happened when it got to her head? Would she disappear, too?

Poof. Gone. Nowhere.

Would she –

A roar suddenly shook Cass to the bone. A blur of white darted across her vision, followed by an unsettling chill.

"Push it away, now!" A feminine voice demanded.

Cass did not hesitate. She shoved at the tome with her free hand, feeling as though she were pressing against solid stone as she tried to tug her arm free.

For a moment nothing happened. Then, slowly. So slowly. Her arm inched free.

With a final tug, Cass heaved the rest of her hand from the book, stumbling backward over the fallen chair.

She clutched her arm to her chest, shaking with relief.

It was there. All of it. Five fingers, down to the two-week old, chipped nail polish.

"Close it!" The voice urged from behind her. "Before it thaws!"

Cass obeyed, slamming the book shut with a heavy thwack. Only once it was safely secured back in its little nook did her shaking begin to subside.

"Thank you," she said, turning to greet her savior. "I –"

The words died on her lips. Before her was not Isme, as she had expected, but a large Irish wolfhound, its wiry hair sticking this way and that.

But that is not what startled Cass the most.

Most shocking of all was that Cass could see right through the creature.

"What?" Said the wolfhound. "Never seen a ghost before?"

Constructive critiques and comments welcome!