“Hopefully this John Heron got his comeuppance,” David Ward mused.
It was written that after Hannah was released from jail, she was murdered by a man named Thomas Lockland, who claimed she had turned his wife’s affections cold by use of witchery. David soon found a marriage document between a woman named Rebecca and this Lockland, but Rebecca’s name had been crossed out. In each generation that followed, the oldest son had carried a curse blamed on a hex called down upon them by Hannah Owens, who had been burned to death in her own garden.
“The Locklands were a grand family once,” David revealed. “With a huge land grant from the court. The manor is up in Essex, just outside Thornfield. Somehow, your family and theirs were intertwined. It seems both were cursed, and this Hannah Owens seems to be the connection.”
So that was it. To find the curse she had to look not only into The Book of the Raven, but into the history of her own family. Kylie thanked the librarian and packed up her bag. Time would not allow her to stay longer. The library had been a haven and she dreaded what came next, for those who wish to understand left-handed magic must embrace it first. The most recent Lockland was listed as still living in Thornfield.
“I’ll see what he knows about the curse,” Kylie told the librarian before thanking him and saying her good-byes.
David Ward was worried for her, even though it wasn’t his place. In truth, he’d spent most of his life fretting over one thing or another. He’d twisted himself to fit into a family and had failed despite his attempts. To this day, he often dreamed of his own daughter, lost when she was not much older than Kylie. In his dreams his girl was often perched in a tree, unreachable, with gravity having no pull on her. “You could stay,” he found himself telling Kylie. “There’s a room here at the library for overnight guests. We have volume after volume listing curse-breakers.”
Kylie shook her head. “Not my curse,” she said, and there was little he could do to refute that. It was raining outside, the dark green rain that meant something was about to change. It happened before deaths and discoveries, before people went on journeys that were successful and those from which they would never return. When Kylie asked how she could get to Thornfield, David directed her to Liverpool Street station, then took his wallet from his gray suit jacket and thrust the fifty pounds that he always carried for an emergency into Kylie’s hands.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” Kylie was quick to say. Trust was for fools, The Book of the Raven had insisted. But then they exchanged a look, for certainly Kylie could use the cash after giving the rude boy at the shop a twenty, so she swallowed her pride and said, “All right, then. Thank you.”
David’s hands ached when he pressed the money into hers. He might not have magic flowing through him, but after a lifetime of study he knew when the future was uncertain. They walked to the door together, and as he watched Kylie duck into the rain, he thought of his own daughter, whose favorite summer dress was blue, blue for protection and for luck, although she’d had no luck at all, not even when he’d made a bargain for her future using the Dark Art.
David wanted to explain that there were curses that could be broken only with a payment that was far too costly for most people to bear, but he had failed at his attempts to protect the person he loved best in the world, so he kept quiet now. He had second thoughts as Kylie was leaving, and called out to stop her. She had already decided not to go back to her hotel, but to instead take a taxi directly to the train station. Time was everything when it came to bringing Gideon back. Still, she took a moment to turn to face the librarian. He had one bit of advice for the girl from his own experiences in the world of left-handed magic. “Don’t trust anyone,” he called.
Kylie gazed back at him with a faint smile of gratitude. This was one bit of advice The Book of the Raven had already made abundantly clear. “I don’t intend to,” she assured him.
Perhaps the book would protect her. David certainly hoped so, although he was not a hopeful man. He continued to watch as Kylie dashed down the steps and hailed a taxi, her red-brown hair spattered by raindrops. They had been researching all day and time had vanished as they dove into the records of the past. It was already that blue hour when people had left work and the streets were nearly vacant. Dappled light fell onto treetops and pavement and the city felt haunted. A taxi stopped and Kylie scrambled in. David Ward raised his hand in a gesture of farewell, deeply unsettled by his fears of what might come to be. The girl rolled down her window, but before she could call out her gratitude, the taxi plunged onto the street and rounded a corner and she disappeared, something that the librarian had witnessed once before, only this time the circumstances were different, and hopefully the outcome would be different as well.