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“They’ve been around for centuries, Cassie, some of them. Some of my friends, they were convinced that the existence of the books explained some of the mysteries of human history. Why some societies flourished while others with similar advantages did not. Why was Egypt so advanced so early? Why was it that China was responsible for so many important inventions? Why did Genghis Khan conquer so much of the planet? All those sorts of things. Even religious figures and miracles. Once you know of the existence of special books, it’s impossible not to intertwine them with the big events in human history.”

Cassie nodded, understanding. She didn’t know much about history, but she could see the sense in what Drummond was saying.

He approached the desk again and picked up the two books. He returned them one at a time to their respective cupboards and locked the doors. “That’s why they are so important. They have been part of thehistory of the world. They need to be studied and protected. Not used by idiots and thugs and psychopaths.”

He slipped the key ring back into his pocket.

“I have a responsibility to protect them, Cassie. I didn’t choose this life, but I take the responsibility seriously. That’s why I put the house in the shadows, because there was a threat. That’s why I need to destroy the Book of Doors, to keep them safe.”

Cassie’s insides jolted at his words. “What threat?”

Drummond shook his head. “Not now,” he said. “You’re exhausted. And if you’re not, I am. And I haven’t been home in a decade. I want to rest for a while.”

Cassie said nothing. She was listening, but mostly she was thinking about the other books locked away in the cupboards around her. She wondered about all the miracles they could do.

“Come on,” Drummond said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “There are rooms here. The beds will be made up. You can sleep for a few hours.”

He led her back down the steps and into his library, closing the secret bookcase door behind them and sealing off the tower.

“Will it be safe to sleep?” Cassie asked. “You said you hid this place in the shadows...”

He waved his hand. “It will be fine for a few hours. The danger is very far away. It will be nice to be here again, just for a wee while.”

She nodded. Despite the excitement of the secret tower room and the special books, despite how comfortable and inviting she found Drummond’s house to be, how much she wanted to enjoy the experience of being there, he was right: she was exhausted. She turned around again and gazed out at the day through the large bay window. The clouds cracked at that moment and sunlight stabbed through, washing the hillside in brightness briefly. Then it was gone again.

“So I go to sleep. What happens then?” Cassie asked. Part of her didn’t want to know. Part of her wanted to climb into bed and hide under the covers.

“I told you,” Drummond said, walking toward the door to the hall. “I want to destroy the Book of Doors. But I know you don’t want to do that. Until you do I need to keep you and the book safe. So I’ll stick withyou. Tomorrow, I’ll show you why it needs to be destroyed, and I hope after that you’ll agree with me.”

Cassie pulled a face that said everything she felt about that.

“I know you don’t trust me,” he continued. “I know what I did to Izzy doesn’t help.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Cassie agreed.

“So I will do two things. Firstly, I will show you what the Book of Doors is capable of, so you really understand why it is so dangerous. And then I will tell you about the threat we face. I’ll tell you why I had to hide this place in the shadows. But right now, let’s find you a bed.”

He opened the door to the hallway and gestured for her to follow. Cassie trailed behind, sad to be leaving the comfort of the library.

“What do you mean you’ll show me what the Book of Doors is capable of?” Cassie asked. “I just took you from my apartment in New York to your house in Scotland. I know how to use it.”

Drummond opened a door off the landing at the top of the stairs, looked inside for a moment, and then closed it again. “Not this one,” he murmured. Then, to Cassie, “You’re only scratching the surface.”

“How?” she demanded. “How am I only scratching the surface?”

Drummond walked to the next door along the hall and opened it. “This will do,” he said, stepping inside.

Cassie followed him into a large square room. A rectangular window looked out on the same landscape she had seen from other rooms, but viewed from a different direction. The hills seemed closer here, or maybe they were different hills. There was a large four-poster bed against the far wall, made up with bright blue linen the color of a summer sky. Yet again the walls were lined with bookcases, and there was an armchair at the foot of the bed, a side table next to it, and a footstool in front of the table. A small fireplace was set into the wall beside the armchair, a neat stack of logs piled on the hearth. Cassie could imagine a cozy winter evening in the room, the fire crackling as wind and rain battered the window, a pile of books and a hot drink on the small side table.

“Bathroom through there,” Drummond said, gesturing toward a door on the opposite wall, by the side of the bed.

“It’s lovely,” she said, facing him. “But how am I only scratching the surface?”

Drummond shook his head. “Get some sleep first. I’ll tell you when you wake up.”

“No,” she said, growing annoyed. “Tell me. I want to know.”

He hesitated for a moment but saw that she would not sleep until he answered.