Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Here Harrison was, fulfilling destiny once more. Would it have the same outcome, or would the Weavers finally succeed? His heart ached at the thought of them having to go through this all again. He’d meant what he’d said to Hale. He’d come here, fully expecting to die, but he couldn’t help but hope for a different scenario. Exhaustion pulled at his muscles.
Stepping out of the room he’d been given, he started toward the stairs to head to the first floor when a thud of heavy books and grumbling drew him to what Hale had called Wiley’s office.
He found Wiley in his office, chewing on his bottom lip as he looked over the stacks of books and his laptop on his desk. “Is something wrong? Can I help you in some way?”
Even as he asked, his gaze was roving over those books. Were those the actual journals from past Weavers? His hands itched to touch, and he stepped farther into the room. It was a big, bright area with open French doors leading out to a balcony. A cool, late February breeze lightly flowed through. There were a few posters of superheroes and what he assumed were images from Wiley’s comic that he drew. There were also shelves of action figures, creating a fun, playful vibe to the office.
“I’m worrying, of course,” Wiley said as he ran his hand over the leather cover of one of the books. “I’ve been trying to get everything digitized and organized, but I’m not sure what to bring on the trip and what to leave here for the next generation should things go wrong.” He looked up at Harrison behind a pair of dark glasses, sadness etched in the line between his brows. “I don’t want it to go wrong this time.”
“They won’t.”
Even as the words left his mouth, Harrison wasn’t sure he believed them. It had always gone wrong before, even if they’d always managed to close the rift. It was just that they needed to do it permanently this time. Stop the vicious cycle once and for all.
He walked closer to the journals and couldn’t resist touching one. He’d wanted to get his hands on them ever since his father mentioned that the Weavers kept journals of their lives. Everything the Guardians had on the Weavers was secondhand knowledge either garnered from chats with the goddesses or messages mailed back to the house from the Keeper while he was on the road with the Weavers.
“It’s amazing,” he murmured. “I’m touching something past Weavers touched. Something they wrote. It must be so thrilling going through these.”
“It is. A lot of them are spell books, which is funny because other than Grey, none of the guys do much reading or writing from what I’ve seen. And they only grumble when I talk about them doing spells.” The smile that had appeared on Wiley’s tipped-up face disappeared before Harrison’s eyes, and Wiley turned his attention to frowning at the books again. “Like I said, I’ve been trying to digitize everything, but it’s hard to know what spells are important. There are small spells, weirdly titled things like ‘Coming Home’ and ‘Sympathy’ that I’m not really sure what they’re for. There are bigger protection spells. Lots of seeking spells. Combat spells. Defensive spells. Not much on healing, which has always made Dane crazy. It’s hard to know which ones may be needed and which are superfluous.” Wiley flipped open one of the spell books. “There are just so many spells, and we’ve never even tried to see what most of them do or if we can even get them to work. There just hasn’t been enough time to study them all.”
Harrison glanced over the scanner and stacks of papers. “I’d suggest doing all of them because you never know.”
“That’s just it. I have only a couple of days to finish this. I was lucky to get that, because Clay’s all ‘We gotta leave now.’ ” Wiley mimicked Clay by dipping his voice low and growly.
“Then I’ll help you. We’ll digitize as much as possible, and what we don’t get to, we’ll take with us.”
Wiley’s shoulders slumped with something like grateful relief, and the smile reappeared on his lips. “I’d love the help.”
Harrison’s gaze strayed back to the books stacked neatly around Wiley like towers. “Well, my offer isn’t completely altruistic. I’m dying to get my hands on these journals and spell books.” He picked up one of the journals and opened it, his fingers nearly shaking with excitement and his heart quickening.
The writer had an elegant scrawl. Something about the thinness of the line made him think he’d used an old-fashioned fountain-tip pen. He needed to read only a few lines to discern the author had been the former Animal Weaver as he talked about exploring the underground world as a mole for the first time.