THE RAGING FRINX
Is he merely indifferent, or is there something buried beneath the frost in his gaze?
Finally, I take the dagger, dragging the blade lightly over the tip of my finger. A drop of blood wells, falling into the vial beneath the inscription.
A golden light flares, and the library opens.
Yohan turns without a word and steps deeper into the chamber.
“We’re looking for a book,” he says, voice low. “The Lost Frinx.”
Evelyn nods and hurries off between the shelves. I follow Yohan, noting how his gaze moves sharply across the floating tomes, scanning for something specific. He isn’t fumbling. He knows exactly what he’s looking for.
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