Page 11
Story: The Tales of Arcana Fortune
She pressed the steaming cup into his hands and led him back into the study where she made herself comfortable on the window seat. She spied on him over her own raised cup, watching as he took off his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He rustled around in his bag with a determined look.
No man who looked like that was just a scholar.
As he continued to dig through his things, she took a sip of her tea, closing her eyes.
The warm, sugary liquid poured down her throat, and she sighed as it warmed her entire body.
Stretching her limbs like a cat, she hummed contentedly, leaning against the wall.
She opened her eyes to see Gray looking at her in amusement.
“What?” she asked defensively. “I like tea! This one’s my favorite—it’s made of camellia leaves.
The shop I get it from imports it from another kingdom.
It tastes absolutely divine with some milk and sugar.
I’ve used up the last of it though, and I can’t get more for a few months, can you believe it? The price of this is a travesty.”
She realized he was no longer listening and sighed, focusing her gaze outside the window.
The sunlight was waning, and the sky was bathed in pink, purple, and orange hues.
She loved sunsets; there was something chaotic about the wash of colors this time of day, as if someone had drenched the sky in different shades of paint.
This was the only time the sky looked the way she always felt, chaotic and messy and hungering for something more than just the usual blue, black, or gray.
“It’s Samhain today,” she murmured.
“Do you do anything on Samhain?” came the reply.
She shook her head, still gazing out the window.
“I just like keeping track. Winter Solstice, Samhain, Midsummer—I like knowing when they are. It’s said that’s when different kinds of magic are at their most potent, so I try to keep an eye out for them.”
She gave him a quick look to gauge his reaction to her mention of the sacred days that were now no longer celebrated in Lumina.
“That makes sense to me. Gr—“ He paused. “Someone I once knew said that cursed magic is at its strongest at this time, so it is best to stay indoors.”
She nodded, wondering if he knew what he had just revealed.
“Aunt Maeve used to say the same. I was never allowed to go out on Samhain.” She gave him a mischievous glance, then baited him further. “ I did sneak out once though. Unfortunately, all I found was the cold and an errant deer. No magic or curses in sight.”
He gave her a small smile at that, then picked up a book that looked heavy, its title in a language she didn’t recognize. Flipping over the pages until he found what he was looking for, he then crossed the room to show her a picture of a teacup overlaid with a silver goblet.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“I had a few texts I brought along; I remembered one of them had something about cloaking spells in them.”
“Cloaking spells?” Her pulse raced. “And where did you even get a spell book?”
To her surprise he flashed her a roguish grin— a grin completely at odds with his usual demeanour. “I have my ways.”
“Scholars aren’t supposed to have occult items,” she said, but her eyes were glued to the heavy leather book in his hands.
“Technically, no one is supposed to have occult items. And this isn’t occult, it’s magic.”
“I don’t think the king would be very understanding of that logic.” She finally looked at him with a grin, excited despite herself at the thought of practicing magic from a forbidden spellbook.
“Magic comes with a price, I suppose.” He shrugged.
“So you admit you believe in magic?”
His eyes locked with hers, looking at her with unnerving intensity. “Don’t you?”
Heat rose in her cheeks, and she focused on the book again. The pages looked ancient, covered in diagrams she could not quite understand. The cover was brown, with worn edges, as if it had been paged through countless times.
“I suppose so,” she whispered, looking at the tome in awe. Squinting at the diagram with the teacup and goblet she asked, “So, what am I looking at?”
“Like I said, It’s a diagram of cloaking spells. It is entirely possible that the book has been disguised as something else. It could be a teacup, an ornament, or even invisible.”
She frowned, a nagging feeling in her brain like they were missing something.
“If this book is truly as special as you say, then there’s no way it’s lying around as any old object.”
He nodded in approval. “Exactly. Which means we can narrow our search considerably. If someone has hidden the book in your cottage, it would be an heirloom or a precious ornament. Something that wouldn’t be accidentally thrown away.”
“Or as a book hidden from plain sight.”
He looked at her in astonishment and then admiration.
“Of course. If the book is in here, it will be almost impossible to find it without the title. That also means that we have to look for your aunt’s journal again, in case there’s a clue in there.”
“We’ve looked everywhere in the cottage though,” replied Serena, considering whether she should search the closets, in addition to the cupboards, “I have no idea where it could be.”
Serena and her aunt were the only people who could have moved the journal. Her aunt seldom left the cottage, and she had not seen the journal after Aunt Maeve passed. Then who…
“Nuts!” she cried.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nuts! He’s a squirrel with a bad habit of breaking indoors and stealing things. ”
“Surely a squirrel would not be able to carry off a book.”
“You don’t know Nuts,” she said grimly and marched outside.
“Nuts!” she hollered, making a couple of birds fly off the nearby bush. “Where are you, you pesky squirrel? I overlooked my ribbons, and I forgave you for the hairbrush, but you have gone too far now, you overgrown rodent.”
“I was not aware your squirrel spoke the common tongue,” remarked Gray from beside her.
She ignored him and approached the apple tree where the squirrel usually carried off his loot.
“This is where he usually escapes to,” she huffed. “Although I have no idea where exactly he stashes them.’
Gray was frowning at the tree.
“Allow me,’ he said after a minute and stepped forward, brandishing a small dagger.
“Where did you even get that from?”
“Scholars are prepared for all eventualities,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
In a movement that was so fast she could hardly track it, he sliced open the aged bark of the tree and made a hole in it.
“My tree!” she squeaked. “Why in the stars would you harm the poor thing like that?”
“The trunk was hollow,” he said, taking a step back. “No doubt our bushy-tailed perpetrator found another opening. Here, take a look.”
She peered inside and gasped.
“Star’s fucking bums, Nuts!” she yelled. “You little thief!”
For inside the trunk were her hair ribbons, her favorite hairbrush, a pile of acorns, and a necklace she had thought lost a long time ago. Amidst this odd assortment of squirrel treasures was the object of their frantic search: her aunt’s green journal.
The opening Gray had created was big enough for her to reach in and withdraw the book.
She left the other things untouched, for as annoying as Nuts was, she felt it would be cruel to rob him of his precious trinkets all in one go.
Besides, she’d been without them long enough; she could let him have them.
She focused on the journal in her hand and examined it for damage, but it was in decent condition, if slightly roughed up around the edges.
She opened it up, not sure if she was ready to see inside.
Swallowing thickly at the sight of her aunt’s untidy scrawl, she handed the notebook to Gray, her eyes stinging.
He flipped the pages until he arrived at the one with Arcana’s name linked with the Larke family tree. His eyes widened as he scanned the crude drawings on the page—drawings she had seen the first time her aunt had shown her the journal.
“This is the diagram of a cloaking spell,” said Gray. “It’s not exactly the same as the one in the book we looked at, but I know enough to recognize the similarity. This means your aunt had already figured out the existence of the book. Whether she found it or not…I have no idea.”
Serena’s mind was reeling. She’d been aware of Aunt Maeve’s research habits but she had no idea she’d known this much about spells and magic.
“Look,” said Gray, moving on to the next page. “I think this is the clue we’re looking for.”
It was a short rhyme, almost as lyrical as it was confusing.
Know what you seek
But do not seek what you know
Fortune’s touch will take yo u
Where stranger’s eyes don’t go
“Does that make sense to you?” she asked, peering over his shoulder.
“It seems to be a riddle of sorts. The first one is referring to the fact that the title is hidden.”
“Fortune’s touch will take you…” The wheels in Serena’s brain were turning, and she tried to hold on to her thoughts before they scattered as they often did when she was trying to concentrate.
“Where strangers’ eyes don’t go,” said Gray, thoughtfully. “Wait a minute—”
“Arcana Fortune!” they said in unison, looking at each other, eyes shining.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11 (Reading here)
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71