McKINNON ESTATE—GLENDALOW
1238 CE

All right, show me where it is!” Mierta spoke to Armand, his eyes twinkling.

Armand pointed into Mortain’s bedroom. “It’s in there, Monsieur—underneath the bed.”

Uncertain, Mierta slowly sidestepped into the bedroom, his lips slightly open, as if he were expecting his father to show up at any moment to scold him. The room was twice the size of his own.

Why shouldn’t it be? He questioned himself. It is the master bedroom after all.

Glancing around the room, Mierta saw two small tables covered in papers and books. One had a candlestick on it containing a half burned candle in it. The other had a stack of papers with a quill and inkpot which had been knocked on its side.

“That’s rather unfortunate,” Mierta said to the room. “Ink can be scarce.”

There didn’t seem to be any organisation to the books or the papers as if it was purposely stacked that way to keep out snoopers.

“I can’t be bothered with that now. I have a more important book to find.”

He approached the side of the bed, got down on his hands and knees and peeked into the space underneath the bed. Seeing nothing unusual he stated, “Armand, there’s nothing there. Are you sure?”

“Oui, Monsieur. I’m certain it is under there,” Armand assured. “I’ve seen him placing something under there. Do you think there may be an invisibility spell on it?”

“That’s rubbish. My father is a court physician, not a warlock. He would have no interest with enchantments,” Mierta countered, beginning to get agitated. Staring at the edge of the bed, contemplating Armand’s suggestion, he decided he would have to crawl underneath and investigate further. He removed his wand from the pocket of his breeches, got on his hands and knees and turned towards Armand. “I’m going to have a look. Stay there.”

He reached under the bed again and said, “Scamos lias.” His wand lit up and he crawled underneath. Quickly adjusting his body into a kneeling position, he promptly hit himself on the head. “Ouch!”

“You all right, Monsieur?”

“I’m fine,” Mierta answered. “Bed’s lower than it appears.”

I’m such a klutz, Mierta thought to himself.

“Be careful, Monsieur,” cautioned Armand.

Mierta lowered himself just enough as to not knock his head again and started looking around. He noticed a board, which appeared to be just slightly higher than the others around it. Running his hand over it he realised it was indeed out of place. “Armand, you clever fellow! There’s a board here that’s positioned just slightly at an angle. I reckon the spell book is located right underneath it!”

Mierta tried to grasp the board with his hands; however, there was just enough of the board for him to get his fingernails on. He pulled gently at first, unsuccessfully. Repositioning himself, he pulled a little harder. The board stubbornly refused to give.

“Blimey!” he exclaimed, starting to feel sweat form on his brow. “It hadn’t occurred to me that it would be this difficult.”

“What’s that, Monsieur?” Armand asked, only catching pieces of what Mierta had said.

Mierta poked his head out from underneath the bed. “I cannot get a proper grip on the board. I reckon it’s stuck,” he said, ducking back under.

“Do you need assistance with it, Monsieur? I can probably loosen it for you.”

“No, no, I got it,” Mierta answered, moving directly over the board. He braced his back against the underside of the bed, and using both hands, pulled one final time. “Argh!” he exclaimed, finally getting the floorboard to loosen its grip. Embarrassed, he gazed in both directions with just his eyes, before he lifted the board with ease.

“You all right, Monsieur?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m fine,” Mierta answered, placing the board down beside him. He then stared down into the darkness. An aroma of grass, acid, and a hint of vanilla over an underlying mustiness filled his nostrils.

Holding his wand over the open area, he glanced down. An ancient looking spell book lay at the bottom of the space. He reached down with his free hand and lifted the book from its grave, blowing the tiny particles of dust into the air. The cover was made of leather which had been dyed blue. The binding was hand stitched and the book was held closed by a small silver latch. The cover contained a variety of designs. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the swirls and squiggles on the front cover, however, there was a beauty to it nonetheless.

On the back, he saw two identical dragons facing each other.

Kaeto! I wonder what happened to the rest of his kin.

Mierta imagined the book had once been magnificent, but what remained was a shell of what it used to be—cracked, threadbare, and peeling with age. The pages within were quite yellow; Mierta was almost afraid to open the delicate tome.

As he held his wand over the spell book in his hand, he felt what only could be described as a sudden sense of comfort.

“Mum?” he uttered, staring at the cover, furrowing his forehead.

Why was this buried under here? Is there some secret in here no one should know? Mierta contemplated. There was no doubt in his mind, this had to be the book he had been searching for. However, further investigation of the book’s contents was needed, and under the bed was not the place. He replaced the board.

With determination in his eyes, Mierta shook the light out of his wand, placing it back into the pocket of his breeches, and gathered the book under his arm.

This book, whatever the reason, would no longer be permitted to be hidden from him. He would hide it too if he had to, though he wasn’t sure exactly how he would do so.

Perhaps there is an invisibility charm in this book I can master, Mierta pondered. However, he shortly realised a new problem would arise—even if he could cast such a spell on the book, it would become hidden from him too. Instead, he decided to trust his inner feelings.

He slid from underneath the bed, stood up, and brushed the dust from his breeches. He stared at his family’s servant as he approached him. “Thank you, Armand, for your assistance. I trust you won’t inform my father I have found this book.”

“Oui, of course, young Monsieur,” Armand replied.

“I’m going to take it to my room now. I need to rest,” Mierta stated.

Once he had reached his room, he closed the door behind him and hurried onto his bed.

Grinning, he plopped the book down and opened it. His grin was soon replaced with a frown of surprise and disappointment at what he discovered. The opening page, had been ripped out, leaving behind a rough edge.

Mother, what happened? Why was this page removed? Mierta questioned himself. He turned to the next page.

Words were written in quill ink next to an illustration of a dresser drawer being open: Obrate combriando.

“O bra te com bree on doe?” Mierta sounded out the word, scratching his head. “I reckon I should give it a go,” he spoke out loud. He brought his wand back out and pointed it towards a dresser positioned across from his bed. “Ohbratay combriando,” he said. When the wand did not respond, he tried again with more confidence, “Obrate combriando!”

As depicted, the drawers to his dresser opened.

He laughed, pleased with the result. He glanced down at the word again for confirmation, and glanced back up at his accomplishment. “Oh, that’s brilliant! What other devious spells are in here?”

He flipped the page and continued flipping it until he came upon a spell with a warning next to it.

“What’s this?” he said, licking his lips. “Do not attempt. What kind of bollocks is this?”

He strained his vision trying to read the very small words. “Ki boo nika lock due flam bay? Wait, what? Someone was not right bothered, what a waste.” He shrugged his shoulders, picked up his wand and pointed it towards the wall.

“Kibunika lac du flambé.” A small spark sizzled from the end of his wand, but seemed to go out before it even began. Perplexed, Mierta raised his wand and chanted again, “Kibunika lac du flambé!”

Another small spark shot from his wand, then went out. “What’s wrong with you?” Mierta asked his wand while rubbing a hand through his hair, causing it to stand up straight. “I hope I haven’t broken it,” he said aloud. “Perhaps I am pronouncing the words wrong.”

Abruptly his hand twitched, feeling a surge of power coming from the wand that he couldn’t explain. Gripping it with both of his hands, he watched amazed as a ball of turquoise energy shot out from the tip.

“Obrate combriando!” yelled Mierta, his bedroom door obeying his command by opening.

Next, the ball of energy bounced off the adjacent wall and flew out of his room.

“No! No! No!” Mierta shouted, eyes wide. “I’m so daft! Why didn’t I consider that happening?” His eyes grew wider as he heard what sounded like it bouncing off the walls in the hallway. “Father’s statue! Oh, please, don’t.”

His words were cut short when he heard the sound of something shattering. He grimaced. “Right. I should have expected that, too.”

He was adjusting the front of his robe when the sound of Lochlann crying from his crib made him stop abruptly. “Lochlann’s room is still open! I’ve got to find a way to stop this thing! I can’t allow it to hurt my baby brother!”

He jumped out of bed and raced into the hallway.

“Hang on, Lochlan! Don’t be scared! Your big brother’s on his way!” He managed to close Lochlann’s bedroom door just before the energy arrived. It bounced off the door and shot further down the hallway.

Meanwhile, Armand was approaching from the staircase below with a cup of tea, hearing the commotion coming from Mierta’s room.

“Armand, get down!” Mierta warned.

“Young Monsieur?” Armand questioned, ducking down, feeling his hair blow from what felt like a sudden wind.

“Out of the way!” Mierta said, accidentally brushing against Armand, causing the cup of tea in his hand to be spilled all over the step. “Sorry!” Mierta called, in his hopeful attempt at catching the energy as it shot towards the floor below them. “I’m so sorry! No time to explain, very urgent I stop this!”

He raced to the cellar door, slamming it shut after the energy went inside. Soon afterward he could hear the sound of multiple jars breaking.

“Ooo! Ah! Eee!” Mierta reacted, cringing at each shattering he heard. “That’s going to take a while to clean up. I hope there’s a spell in the book to reverse all of this and help me fix the statue upstairs. I don’t know how I will explain everything to father otherwise.” He raced back up the stairs to his room, grabbed the book and frantically searched for the spell that would stop the energy ball.