Albus potter's Arc

Chapter 4 of 9

Albus followed the Warden deeper into the vault. His sprite clung to his collar, wings folded tight against his neck. The stone hall narrowed and dropped. Cold air rose from below. He counted his steps the way he counted lines on a page, forcing his hands to stay steady. She had promised him the truth about immortality. He meant to take it and leave alive. The passage opened into a round chamber. On a stone stand rested a thick book bound in worn leather. Metal fittings crossed its cover. An hourglass was etched at its center, ringed by the same symbols Albus had copied onto his scrap of paper at home. He knew then that this book held the whole rite. Everything he had chased sat within arm's reach. "You wanted the cost of immortality," the Warden said. She laid her hand flat on the cover. "It is written here. But no one reads it and walks out. You will pay the same price the others paid." She drew a thin knife from her gray sleeve. Her voice never rose. "Kneel." Albus did not kneel. He set the sprite loose. "Now," he told her, and the tiny creature shot upward. It darted at the Warden's face, wings flashing light into her eyes. She flinched and swung the knife at empty air. In that half-second Albus lunged for the book. He got both hands on it. The Warden grabbed his coat and pulled. They struggled over the stone stand. His folded letters spilled from his coat and scattered across the floor. The sprite dove again and raked her cheek. She hissed and let go to cover her face. Albus wrenched the book free and staggered back, clutching it to his chest. "You cannot read it," she said. Blood ran from a thin line under her eye. "The symbols will kill an untrained mind." "Then I will learn to read it," Albus said. "You taught me three symbols already. I have the rest now." He backed toward the passage. She did not chase him. She only watched, one hand pressed to her cheek, calm in a way that frightened him more than the knife. "Take it," she said. "You will find the last page missing. Come back when you understand what you carry." Albus ran. The sprite streaked ahead of him through the dark hall. He burst out past the vault gate into open air and did not stop until his lungs burned. Then he opened the book with shaking hands. Page after page of symbols, ink faded but whole. He turned to the end. The last page was torn out. A clean cut, close to the spine. He had won the book. He had lost the letters from his coat, and the rite he needed was incomplete. Somewhere behind him, the Warden held the missing page, and she knew he would have to come back for it.