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“This is not like the other caskets,” he said breathlessly.

“What makes it different?”

Orsini swallowed and pointed to the first line, where the initial letter of each word was written in red ink. “This says,The Chronicles of Ansger.”

Jake caught his breath. “Ansgerwrotethis?”

“Unless it’s another forgery.”

“Can… can I touch it?” Orsini nodded, and Jake laid his hands on the sheet of thick paper. He closed his eyes, opening himself up once more.

“Well?” Seth demanded. “Is it real?”

Jake took several deep breaths in an effort to calm his racing heartbeat. “It feels as old as theMissal, if that helps.” In his head he saw the same sheet, and he concentrated on the hands holding it but couldn’t see more of the owner of those hands. “Damn.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see what Ansger looked like, that’s all.” He opened his eyes. “But itwashim. I feel it.”

“There are no records of the brothers’ physical appearance,” Orsini told him. “Please, try again.”

Jake closed his eyes and focused on the feel of the paper beneath his fingertips. He prayed to whoever was listening.

Let me see them. Just this once.

Dizziness overcame him, and he took several deep breaths. He could see the hands again, only now he could make out a gold ring on the left hand. Jake concentrated, mentally taking a step back in an effort to see more.

Only to find the owner of those hands was staring right at him.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“OH MYGod, I’m looking at one of them,” Jake whispered. “Except it’d be more accurate to say one of them is staring right atme, as if I’m there in the room with him.”

“Which one?”

“I have no idea.” The man in front of him was tall, with long dark brown hair tied back from his shoulders. He wore what appeared to be a linen shirt and breeches, and around his shoulders was a warm red wool cloak, fastened on the left with a brooch in red and blue enamel, with intricate patterning worked over it in gold. His shoes seemed to be fashioned from soft leather. He gazed at Jake, his eyes bright with amusement, and Jake knew this was an intelligent man.

Then he saw the stick clasped in the man’s left hand, and a wave of shock rolled over Jake when he realized who he was seeing.

“It’s Ansger, after his accident.” Jake hardly dared breathe in case his words caused the vision to disappear. “It must be. He has a cane to help him walk.”

Ansger spoke, and Jake struggled to understand what he was saying, until he realized it sounded a little like German.

“This is so weird. He’sstilllooking at me as if I’m right there with him, but that can’t be.” Jake let out a sigh. “Where’s a mirror when you want one? I have to see if it’s me he’s staring at.”

“You won’t find one,” Orsini told him. “There were none at that time. They believed the devil was watching the world from the opposite side of glass mirrors.”

Jake scanned the room. “Wait a sec.” On the wall was a burnished shield placed over a pair of crossed swords. He walked toward it, and caught his breath at his reflection.

“I don’t look like me.” But he did resemble Ansger. The same shape of the nose, the same eye color, even the shade of hair.

Holy fuck.

He was looking at Ansfrid. It had to be.

“How can I be Ansfrid?”

“There is only one explanation. You must be a direct descendant,” Orsini told him. “Perhaps you are seeing Ansger through his eyes.”