Grimoires and Where to Find Them Raconteur, Honor (read along books TXT) 📖

the grimoires turned into that magical nightmare was because of how you handled them?”

Massimo protested, his voice going up an octave. “That wasn’t my doing! I had them all carefully stacked on shelves, you can’t think—”

“You utter moron,” both magicians said in perfect unison.

Bewildered, Massimo looked between them, no comprehension on his face. “What?”

“The protective boxes aren’t decorative, you idiot,” Sherard snapped at him. “They keep the magic of the grimoire safely within its pages and preserve the magical ink. Without it, the grimoires will slowly deteriorate with age and leak magic in all directions. If you stack multiple grimoires together, you get the disaster your flat turned into! Good heavens above, why do you think your flat melted in the first place?!”

The light dawned. It didn’t dawn quickly, but when it did, horror was mixed in. Massimo really had no clue he was the cause of all that.

“I just…I just liked them,” he said, voice falling to a whisper as he stared at the ground. “They were so uniquely crafted. Each one was a piece of art in and of itself, and no two were alike. I thought, with them in my house, no one would doubt that I’m an educated man. I loved just holding them. Just having them.”

Yes, well, just having them meant endangering hundreds of people. I shook my head, as I had no pity to spare for this idjut. “Lead us to where you have the others.”

His head came up sharply, and a visible protest was on his lips.

Henri got right into his face. “Do you want to destroy the very thing you love to collect? You have multiple grimoires stashed without their protective boxes. Just what kind of havoc do you think they’re wreaking in this very moment? How much damage has already occurred in the days you’ve had them? The Reaper’s Set is particularly volatile—it has no sealing hex on the signature page. And you’ve had them for months at this point. I shudder to think of what they’re doing!”

Massimo’s face fell again. The words pained him, but he choked them out. “I’ll lead you to them. I’ve got a farm outside the city, one I inherited. That’s where I’ve been putting them.”

I sent up a grateful prayer. “Henri, you get him stashed in the car. I’ll go in, tell everyone we got him, say they can go home. Or keep partying. We do have cause for celebration, now that we’ve caught him.”

“Don’t send everyone home,” Sherard cautioned before holding up a staying hand. “Massimo. How many books are at the farmhouse?”

Massimo seemed to hunch in on himself. He glared, defensive, his eyes hot with anger even as he admitted in a small voice, “Three thousand, four hundred and twenty-six.”

Oh, lord.

Sighing, I put my gun back into the purse. “Right. Any magicians, I’ll ask them to come with us. And I’ll call Colette, have her bring supplies. Looks like we’ll need a lot of manpower here.”

Henri’s grip on Massimo became punishing as he agreed in a tight voice, “We’re in for a very long night.”

I felt those words to be a gross understatement. Massimo’s farmhouse had been built in a style quite common to the area—and the era it was built in. At a glance, I took it to be one of those houses ordered by catalogue, the pieces of it all assembled on site. A common enough tactic for someone on a limited budget needing a house. This one had not been well cared for. The paint peeled along the trim, the door had faded into some indiscernible color, and the entire yard exuded an air of neglect.

And then there was the obvious aura of magic leaking out of the house, like a monster breathing out liquid ooze. I stopped dead at the edge of the walkway and stared at the two-story house with complete dread.

Did I really have to go in there?

A hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing supportively. I looked over to meet Jamie’s eyes, and the expression on her face was sympathetic but determined.

“We’ve got this,” she promised me. “And more help is coming. We can knock this out in a few hours, I think. I’ll play gopher, run things back and forth for all of you.”

I appreciated the concern, but… “In that dress?”

“I packed something to change into, just in case. I’ll duck inside and change real quick. And don’t worry, even this magic soup doesn’t have any effect on me.”

“You tested this, didn’t you?” I eyed her suspiciously.

“I may have,” she admitted. “Nothing happened. I doubt this will be any different.”

I would not have wanted her to attempt it, not after her core’s reaction with the charm shop explosion, but that was my protective side speaking. It was a moot point now, as she had already established it was safe. I couldn’t argue.

Belladonna’s work was iffy at times, but in this respect—with a bit of Sherard tinkering—it worked to Jamie’s benefit. She was probably the only non-magical person who could help us in this case. And considering I’d almost run my legs off at the previous place, I was grateful to have a runner.

“Thank you, my dear. Your help will be invaluable.”

Seaton strode ahead, his magic already flaring around him. “Let’s get a ward up, contain this as much as we can. Everyone, set up!”

Colette had come with every bag she could lay hands on. Kingsmen under Gibson’s direction had done the same. Multiple vans sat outside, filled with supplies, and we’d even set up a few tables as a staging area. And of course everyone received a magical hex drawn on their necks to help protect them before we went in.

Massimo informed us that not everything in here was magical. He had initially started collecting vintage books, which took up the bulk of the house. This place was not his residence, but his showroom. His private collection. The grimoires were in pride of place in the parlor and study—those would be our priority tonight.