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Book

(Excerpt from Devil’s Daughter, Lucinda’s Pawnshop)

It was not much to look at—its leather cover discolored and worn, the metal bands and locks of newer vintage than the book itself, as if someone, understanding the dire reality of the thing, had sought to chain it. It was bound in beaten bands of gold, silver, and copper. Ah, and there were wards on it, too, no doubt placed there by well-meaning witches or wizards or holy men. That explained the muted “voice” of the presence that permeated the book. The wards and metal bindings served to muffle le Fay’s dark spirit, but once unchained, it would reach out, seeking living souls that would resonate with it.