Hector turned to the second page of the book. The second page didn''t have words like the first one.


    It had a moving circle. The circle consisted of tiny symbols, far too small to discern the characteristics of each hieroglyph, but cohesive enough to create the appearance of a line. It rotated clockwise on the page.


    The third page had the same shape, and the fourth, and the fifth... Hector skimmed through the book and confirmed that it was filled with circles. The difference between them was the pace and direction they rotated in.


    Some moved slowly, others faster; some rotated counterclockwise, others expanded and shrunk like a heart.


    He found a piece of paper stuck in between the pages. The letters were written in the same print and burned onto the note.


    They''re locking the city down. Someone smuggled an afflicted in, and that has the guilds running around like a nest of shriekers. The shards are in the basement. Use it when the prices go up and on nothing else. Don''t screw this up. We''ll be filthy rich when this blows over.


    A lockdown? Shards? He would check the basement later. For now, the book held his interest hostage. The title had piqued his interest.


    Hector flipped the pages back to the second page. He stared at the original circle and followed the ring with his index finger. How was he supposed to read this? Did he miss something?


    He examined the note again. He hadn''t missed anything on the front, but the back had handwriting on it. This time it was written in ink.


    paper familiar. spy? find counter ritual. don''t touch


    Don''t touch? Hector didn''t have time to react when the pages of the book sprung to life. The pages wrapped around each other until they became a serpent. Then it bit into Hector''s wrist.


    Words coating the serpent like scales flowed up its body and into the paper fangs piercing his wrist. The moment the letters made contact with Hector''s wrist, he had another headache, accompanied by the sound of torn paper in his pocket.


    The serpent slithered off the table and onto the ground before he could do anything, then darted down the hall. It left the cover of the book and a few torn pages in its aftermath.


    Hector examined the two puncture wounds on his wrist and the trickle of red bleeding from it. It stung like a paper cut. He reached into his pocket and pulled a torn poppet out. The figurine was ripped to shreds; it shielded him from the blunt of the bite. That left him with one poppet to deal with the Faceless.


    The bite had shoved new information into his mind. His head ached as he focused on sorting the new information. Most of it was a mixture of random phrases, incoherent sentences, and snippets of dialogue. If the poppet had not protected him, he was sure the damage would''ve been more severe.


    The recent events had been illogical. He did not expect a paper serpent to pop out and bite him, or a creature with the wingspan of a house to take his coworker away. He did, however, obtain a benefit from the bite by carefully sorting through the information.


    He understood what a Strand was, how to create a Spell, the general layout of the house, and where the shards were.


    Hector held the lantern with his functional hand, retrieved the rest of his belongings, then made his way down the connecting hall. He was careful to avoid any signs of the serpent.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    A Strand was an extension of the mind. It was akin to having an extra disembodied limb. It could grow, adapt a shape, and improve with usage. Strands were necessary to perform—for the lack of a better term—magic. The information he had mentioned spells, but lacked a clearer detail for it; That portion had been taken by the poppet.


    Hector stood at a doorway to a set of stairs leading to the basement, then made his way down the steps.


    The most basic spells had three components. A source, usually a rune, to fuel the spell. A shape—the flame to ignite and give form to the fuel, and a conduit to transfer the fuel in between the two. All of the components can be strengthened with additional Strands. This was known as a circuit.


    It was a delicate process. Without fuel, the circuit would have a limited effect, and the amount of Strands used wouldn''t matter. Without a proper channel, the fuel will not flow properly, and without a sturdy shape, the excess fuel would be wasted.


    Of course, a single Strand can function as all of those components. It was considered standard practice to use at least three for the circuit since the shape of a Strand has a role in the circuit.


    If he had to make a comparison, casting a spell was metaphysical multitasking. The components were more of a theory rather than a concrete mechanism; Strands were very adaptable. With time, he was sure he could theorize the rest of them.


    The basement had several crates. Most of the crates were pried open and empty, but there was one that had three shards left.


    The shards were made of the same material as the Obsidian Pillar, only they were smaller and fractured into crystals. He reached out and touched the shards. They were cold against his palm, but didn''t react to his touch. He scooped them into his pockets.


    Hector would have to pay a visit to the Pillar, he could feel the pangs of hunger and a dryness in his throat. The Pillar would fix that, allow him to spend the improvement, and use meld for the first time. The issue was the winged creature; he''d creatively call it a Strix, and the Faceless.


    He could take the time to develop a Strand—to create a weapon—but that would take months under normal circumstances. The Pillar would accelerate the process now that he knew how to create one.


    If he traveled along the alleys, kept out of sight, then maybe he''d have a chance.


    No. That won''t do. When had he become so impatient? Was it because he was hungry?


    Hector took a deep breath and cleared his mind. Analyze the options, take it step by step. He hadn''t explored the house. There might be something useful, something that would provide an alternative path.


    He made his way back into the hall from the basement. There weren''t any signs of the serpent yet. There might be more of them hiding, so books were out of the question. That left the second and third floors.


    Hector made his way to the stairs leading to the second floor, then climbed it.


    The note from earlier made the inhabitants seem like the opportunistic kind. Would it be a leap in logic to assume they had anything to get them out of a bind if something went wrong? Maybe something had already gone wrong, judging by the state of the city.


    The second floor of the house had tinted windows and contained the bedrooms. Hector made a brief round through them and concluded there wasn''t anything worth examining. He made his way to the third floor.


    The attic was less spacious than the floors below it, but it did have a window. Other than that, it did not have any notable objects either. He didn''t have a choice; he''d have to brave the darkness. He approached the window and took a glance at his reflection. Black hair, brown eyes, and a black suit. Some things stayed normal. Then, he looked outside.


    The city was pitch black. That was expected. What he didn''t expect was another source of light a distance away. If he had to estimate, it was ten or twelve blocks out, towards the direction of the plaza, and high above him. Almost like a tower.


    Was it another individual? Or maybe another light source? He could use a backup if the lantern ever broke.


    Hector held the lantern up against the window, then covered the front with a hand, removed it, then covered it again. He repeated the motion several times. He didn''t know any codes or languages to make the most of it.


    The distant light flickered in response, then vanished. Was it a human or something else entirely? There wasn''t much he could''ve done right now, so he left and returned to the first floor.


    No signs of the serpent. Good. No weapons either. That was not good. He had done everything possible to prepare. The other opportunities, if there were any, remained outside in the darkness.


    Hector grabbed the door handle, readied his poppet, then pulled the metal door open and stepped outside. A Faceless stared at him from across the street, and the dot on the figurine grew.


    Hector didn''t have time. He took a quick glance for anything, anything at all that could help him. Nothing. Nothing that could''ve helped him. The Pillar was not far, but the Strix concerned him more than the Faceless. He closed the door and began his journey.