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I cleared my throat, willing myself to focus. “He dressed in, well, all fashioned robes, like the council, but pale blue, or perhaps sage, and velvety.” The council robes were black, red or white depending on the rank of the person. “I’ve never seen those colors on anyone else here. And I haven’t seen him since then.”

I wasn’t allowed to return as a child, for years, but my parents had both stormed into the archives to attempt to find him, to no avail.

“He was a rune expert,” I finally told Deb. “And I really need someone with his expertise—” I interrupted myself as I took in her expression.

She wasafraid.

“What?” I asked, standing.

Deborah shook her head. “No, it can’t be. I must be wrong.”

She wasn’t. I could tell. The very fact that she seemed freaked out assured me we were on the right track. Finally, finally, someone had a clue to help make sense of the whole mess. The runes on my skin, not faded at all, and maybe even what happened when I was seven.

As she seemed so nervous, I approached as carefully as I could make myself. “Whatever you can tell me, I will be nothing but grateful, Deb, I assure you. I need to understand?—”

Oh, bugger it all.

I had worn sleeves all week. It wasn’t conspicuous in October, so no one had questioned it. I just pushed the cuff up, exposing my left wrist a few inches. “Something is happening to me.Please.”

“Dear gods,” she whispered, studying the angry marks.

Glancing to her right, then left, she took my hand and dragged me all the way to her small office, firmly closing the door. “When did that happen?”

“Last week. I woke up with all those. If my mother knew, she’d make a fuss. Not in a good way. I’m trying to figure it out, but the marks make no sense. One is a witch’s rune, another, a damn zodiac sign, and a third, a hieroglyph, a Chinese character—horse, I think. I can’t make heads nor tail of it. The old man—he was good at runes. And he helped me once.”

That was an understatement. The old man hadn’t helped me. He’ssavedme.

Iwas such a curious kid, always opening a book. Strange covers, signs I couldn’t read,magic, fascinated me.

I wasn’t thinking when I opened the volume with a blue cover that both looked like leather, and an entire constellation of galaxies.

And then I burned from the inside out, my entire soul paying for my curiosity. Even at that age, I understood that it was the end. I would die. There would be nothing left of me, all for the offense of opening a book filled with more than any mortal could comprehend.

“Silly girl.”

The voice sounded in my head, and I wondered if I’d imagined it. But the next moment, I blinked, and there was a man on his knees, holding up a feathered quill, its tip pressed at my hip.

There were three freshly carved runes, one on top of the other. And I could read them. Just like I could read those from the pages of the book I’d thrown to the floor.

On my skin, there waskenaz, for knowledge, andhagalaz, for change,thurisaz, power.

And suddenly, instead of readingrunes, I understood what those three meant together. The man had written words on my skin, in the language of the universe.May the knowledge change her, by my power.They formed a full sentence in my head. An order. Aspell. Those three runes could have meant an infinity of things, in that exact order.Kenazwas also creativity.Hagalazcould be used for less, destruction, hailstorms, and so many things. But I understood my marks as easily as if the words were scribed in English.

Glancing down, I discovered the book, which had seemed so eerie and mysterious moments ago, wasn’t pretty drawings at all. It told a story. One I could read and understand, runes dancing in my mind.

Long ago, there were three brothers, who went by many names, and by their will?—

The man shut the book, adding it to his pile, his smile reaching the corners of his eyes. “Learn from the lesson, child. Curiosity has already killed you once.”

That wasn’t right. I was alive. It didn’t kill me, did it? I was fine, and no longer in pain. In fact, I felt amazing. Before I could say so, he returned to his seat, and I never saw him again.

Soon after, it became obvious that something had changed in me. My magic, for one. But also, I suddenly knew things I had never learned, like the history of a beautiful statue by Apollo’s temple. Hyacinth, the god’s lover, coveted by Zephiros, and torn apart between the two forces. I knew the boy holding Zeus’s cup was called Ganymede, and that Zeus had abducted him before making him immortal. Hera wasn’t impressed. The accidental magic coming out of almost every child in Highvale was cute, endearing. Mine set fire to rooms and made the children who dared tease me scream in terror.

As I replayed the events in my mind, growing up, I looked for the man many times to thank him for saving my life—unlike my parents, who intended to shout at him. I was fifteen the first time I was allowed back in the library, and I immediately returned to the same spot. I never found him. Frequently, I’ve looked up, catching a glimpse of something light blue from the corner of my eyes. It was never him.

But now, Ineededhim.

He’d know. He’d understand the runes I couldn’t read; I was certain of it.