The hum in Isaac’s head faded as Amelie led the way down the hall. If only he understood and could use his gift, whatever it really was . . .

Willow popped into view overhead. “That was insulting.” They floated alongside Amelie and Isaac. “Even though it happens all the time.”

“What do you mean?” Isaac asked.

“When people don’t believe, they don’t see. The truth can be square in front of their eyes, but they simply don’t see.”

Amelie said, “I was hoping you’d scare the living daylights out of him.”

Isaac said, “What was it that Kat said, you know, when she made Baines . . .”

Amelie giggled. “She said, ‘Hold your tongue.’ Clever, that spell, don’t you think? Double meaning. She’s getting better and better at spell-casting.”

When Amelie opened the door to the small library, Isaac had to stop to take it all in. It was like his own personal dream come true.

The room, not very large, was filled with books. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stuffed with books. Books on tables, in stacks, books on the floor, piled almost as high as Isaac was tall, books open on stands. Isaac moved slowly, letting his hand stray over the leather covers, turning the spines so he could read the titles.

“I know. I love it here, too, although it would take me a thousand years to read them all,” Amelie said, standing next to him, her head tilted as she surveyed the room. “Do you have any favorites?”

He nodded. “Frankenstein. By Mary Shelley. Do you know it? It has helped me with my English, but I like it for more than that.”

She shook her head. “Heard of it but haven’t read it yet.”

Isaac, relishing telling about his favorite book, said, “Victor Frankenstein, who wishes to be a scientist, plays with the idea of creating life. Of course, that is treading in something dangerous—how do you say it—sacrilegious, and he ends up making a monster, who haunts his every step and destroys everything and everyone Victor loves.”

“How sad,” Amelie said. She was silent for a moment. “Then you understand about monsters.”

“Only in books,” Isaac said.

Willow dropped down and floated right in front of Isaac, so close to his face that Isaac had to take a step back. “We may all be monsters under the skin,” Willow said, their voice a slimy whisper.

Isaac swallowed. “What?” he whispered back.

Willow floated away. “It’s a saying we particularly like. Speaking of books.” They paused. “We, for one, don’t have any skin.”

Amelie said, “Kat saved everyone in Rookskill from a monster who was using a magical artifact.”

“What does this mean, a magical artifact?” Isaac asked.