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it seems." He offered Will and Jordyn a seat on a tidy
sofa in the sitting room just off the entryway. On the
coffee table, a small crystal bowl held foil-wrapped
toffees piled so neatly they formed a perfect four-sided
pyramid.
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Prichard sat in a wing chair. He leaned forward,
elbows on his knees, resting his chin lightly on his folded
hands. "You have my attention."
Jordyn looked at Will. "Show him. Show him the
file."
Will retrieved the file and handed it over. Pritchard
leafed through the articles and the updated appraisal. He
pulled out the photo of the small book, examined it for a
moment, then slipped it back into the file and handed it
back to Will. "What do you think it is?" Pritchard asked.
"I'm not sure, answered Will.
"Then why come to me?"
Will looked at Jordyn. She nodded. "I think it
might be something in your area of expertise . . .
something sacred."
Pritchard leaned back in his seat.
Will continued, You mention a book in chapter
twelve, but only in one paragraph. I was hoping you
might be able to tell us more about The Book of Raziel."
"Hmm." Pritchard popped out of his seat. "Come."
He slid open a heavy pair of pocket doors, closed them,
and slid them open again. He walked into the room.
Will and Jordyn followed him to the doorway of a
small library. Stacks of books, some waist-high, others to
the shoulder, covered the floor and the desk and chairs,
leaving the shelf-lined walls behind them barely visible.
Jordyn muttered under her breath, "More books."
At first glance, the books appeared to be randomly
arranged, but on closer inspection, the stacks were
alphabetized starting with 'A' nearest the right door jamb
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and concluding with 'Z' at the left. At M , on a shelf of
its own, a small Marshalltown trowel stood on end,
embedded in the wood tip down.
Stopping in the center of the room, Pritchard turned
a slow circle, tapping his index finger on his chin in the
kind of thoughtful gesture expected of a man of his
intellect. Will and Jordyn exchanged a puzzled glance.
Pritchard skipped toward the tallest stack in the
room. Jordyn watched him run his fingertips along the
spines of the books, moving swiftly from one stack to the
next. His hands were slender and neatly kept, but not
delicate. Every knuckle was scarred. On his right hand
he wore two rings, both silver, heavy, and without stones,
their carved patterns softened by wear.
Pritchard passed nearly all of the books. Pausing
somewhere near 'S', he closed his eyes. Jordyn looked at
Will; he shrugged.
Pritchard put his hand to his forehead, turned
sharply, and walked directly to the books nearest the
doorway. He removed half a dozen and pulled a thin,
navy blue book from what was now the top of the stack.
Several pages had been marked by different colored
scraps of paper, each one filled to the edge with tiny
handwritten notes. Pritchard cradled it gently. He ran his
index finger down the gold lettering on the spine as if
reading by touch. Turning the book face up, he opened it
to a page near the middle, marked with goldenrod.
Pritchard scanned the text systematically until
several pages later he paused to read. "Hmm." He turned
two more pages and continued. "Hmm.
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Jordyn couldn t stand it any longer. What is it?
she asked.
Pritchard continued without taking notice. Hmm.
What! Jordyn repeated.
Pritchard did not look up from the book. He
paraphrased aloud, According to legend, The Book of
Raziel was written by the Archangel Raziel, also known
as the Angel of Secrets. The book is said to contain all of
the Wisdom of Heaven, some of which was not even
revealed to the other angels. It was given by Raziel to
Adam in the Garden of Eden. As the story goes, the other
angels were so jealous, they stole the book and threw it
into the sea. Adam eventually got it back. Later, it was
given to Noah and he used it to build the Ark and
eventually it was passed to King Solomon who used its
knowledge to build the Temple in Jerusalem. The book
was handed down for generations, though secretly." He
clapped the book shut. "Essentially, it is a grimoire."
A what? asked Jordyn.
Pritchard raised his head and looked at Jordyn. A
grimoire. And one of the most ancient and powerful."
Will explained, A grimoire is a collection of
incantations, enchantments, formulas.
Jordyn scowled. Magic?
Yes and no, said Prichard. Think of it as
knowledge. Pritchard returned the book to its place, and
went on, To some, electricity is magic, but to us it is just
a product of knowledge. It simply depends upon your
perspective. Pritchard directed Will and Jordyn back to
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the sitting room. He closed the library doors, opened
them, and closed them again.
Will and Jordyn took their seats on the sofa.
Pritchard stood behind the wing chair. He folded his arms
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