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Wagner shrugged agreeably. “Itcouldbe. We thought these things were magic also, until we understood them properly.”

“Electricity would have seemed pretty amazing to someone who knew nothing about it,” Drummond agreed. Outside, beyond the tall windows at the end of the dining room, pink and white blossoms blew across the lawn.

“Maybe it is not a force from this universe,” Wagner continued. “Maybe it is something seeping through from another reality. A different reality. That is why we cannot understand it. Or from some part of the universe that lies behind our own. Some underpinning place that is the source of all matter and reality.”

They considered that, chewing over the big ideas as they chewed over their lunch. This was what Drummond enjoyed most about his meetings—it wasn’t that answers were always found, it was that questions were asked and considered and enjoyed. No idea was scorned or dismissed, all thoughts were valid. His friends were people who knew more than he did, who understood different things, and sometimes it felt that only together, with all of their different perspectives, could they come to any conclusions.

“But why books?” Lily wondered after a while. “Why is it books, and these books in particular, that can channel or contain this force? The magic?”

“That is a good question,” Wagner replied. “One I do not know the answer to.” He forked a chunk of lamb into his mouth and chewed. “This is very good lamb, Drummond. Very good.”

Drummond dipped his head, acknowledging the compliment.

“Books are a specifically human item, aren’t they?” Yasmin said. “It’s not like we find books in the natural world. Dogs and cats don’t write books.”

“I would read a book written by a dog,” Lily commented, and Wagner grinned.

“But what I mean,” Yasmin continued, “this magic, this force we don’t understand yet, it must have beenput intothe books somehow. Or if it is fragments of another universe as Wagner suggests, how did the walls crack, and why did those fragments end up in books?”

“I’ve always thought it was a person,” Drummond admitted. “Maybe centuries ago, someone who was able to make these magical books. They channeled something or found something, and then over the centuries the books traveled and were dispersed around the world.”

“One person did all of this?” Wagner asked, frowning. “One person made all of these books?”

“Someone who loved books.” Drummond nodded, aware but not self-conscious that this was a silly and romantic notion.

Lily was nodding. “Yes,” she said. “Only someone who loves books could create the special books. They are too beautiful to be an accident.”

“I agree,” Yasmin said. “It is not an accident that the magic is in books. I don’t know if it was a person who made them, or if that person loved books, but the magic is in books for a reason.”

“Ja,” Wagner agreed. “These books, they share so many similar features, as if they are from a set. It feels like they have been made through the same process. Perhaps by the same human hand.”

“Or a nonhuman hand?” Lily asked.

Drummond grinned. “What, an alien?”

“A god?” Lily suggested. “History is full of gods, just like human stories are full of magic. Maybe there were gods at one time too. Maybe these books are relics or artifacts from some supernatural being.”

“It is all hypothesis,” Wagner said, shrugging. “I do not know. We may never know. Certainly ‘doing science’ to the books did not help us.”

Lily smiled at Wagner’s echo of her words from their earlier meeting.

“What I know is that I have homemade Bakewell tart to follow this,” Drummond said. “And that is a supernatural experience in itself.”

The group laughed, and conversation moved on, to rumors of newly discovered books, to mutual friends that hadn’t been heard from for some time, and to the stories of the beautiful woman who was traveling the world looking for books.

Barbary’s New Books

“What a bitch that woman is,” Barbary said conversationally, as Drummond picked himself up from the floor. Then he grinned. “Always better when it’s just the boys, isn’t it? Nobody to get offended by a harmless joke.”

“What did you do, Hugo?” Drummond asked. “Did you push her back through the door? She’ll be stuck in the past!”

Barbary grinned devilishly. “You seem to be confusing me for someone who gives a fuck.”

Barbary flicked his wrist and Drummond felt himself immediately yanked up into the air. He hovered upright a foot off the floor. The Book of Control, held down by Barbary’s side, effervesced with light.

“You should know that I have had a very bad day,” Barbary said. He waved vaguely at the side of his face and Drummond noticed for the first time that it looked swollen. “My eye is bloodshot. Some fucking ape slapped me like I was his wife. And you know what else he did?”

Drummond watched, unable to move, all parts of his body tense. His mind was racing, trying to work out how to escape, trying to work out what Cassie would be doing, trying to work out what Barbary was going to do to him.