Trace A Book Novels & Stories

Alastair looked at him, his calm composure slipping as confusion set in. "Then what was it, who led you to me?" He glanced at me before returning his stare to Malcolm. "It seems Libro Vitae isn't so easily blocked. Even with you hidden from it, it found a loophole to track you. One right under your very nose and the connection to Athena only made the pull that more powerful." Malcolm said. Alastair's eyes widened at the mention of the book.

It's called: Sweet treachery. by Penaciousshewa. And help leave a review on her book. Thanks a lot! Author note

“Lunch is ready!” They stood reluctantly, hands lingering before they let go. --- Afternoon deepened into a golden haze. In the study, Nickey leafed through an old book, trying to steady his mind. The ledger lay nearby, waiting, reminding. Trina entered silently, gliding across the carpet. “What are you reading?” she asked, perching beside him, her thigh brushing his. “Old stories,” he muttered. But his eyes betrayed him, drawn to her lips as she leaned closer.

I opened the book, the pages releasing a faint, musty scent as they turned. As I flipped through the pages, my fingers lightly traced the intricate runes etched into the parchment. Each symbol seemed to pulse faintly beneath my touch, as if responding to my presence. The further I delved into the book, the stronger the sensation grew—a peculiar warmth spreading from my fingertips, curling up my arms and settling deep within my chest.

Just perfect as she thought. “Nice meeting you, sir. You can notify Lora if you have removed that part and we’ll arrange some time for that,” said she. Author's Note: Hello, I hope you enjoyed the story. Trace of Ink is about to end and I would love to hear your insights and critics. Please drop a comment, that would be much appreciated. Thank you :)

As gorgeous as it all was, Elaina found herself going farther, to the end of the room, to a section of books that looked terribly old and for some odd reason appeared the most interesting. There were leather chairs in this part of the room as well, single high-backed ones the color of rich caramel. Reaching out, she let her fingers brush lightly over the tattered spines of a couple books, stopping as if by no control of her own on one. The name TREKAS was printed in letters so worn she could barely see them all. Elaina pulled that one from the shelf without a moment’s hesitation. Before opening it, as if knowing already that this was going to take some time, she’d backed up until she sank in

It’s hard to see- the scale isn’t huge- but the dot does move with the band. “Okay, that’s the other end of the tracking spell. We can destroy both parts, and that should end the spell,” Shelley announces. “Tala, you want to help with that?” Tala nods vigorously. “Yes, please.” “Let’s check this book first.” Frowning at the glow, Shelley mutters about not liking the colour, and draws a circle around the box before opening it. The book has a plain cover, one of those leather ones with raised bands. Shelley handles it like it was a bomb in danger of exploding, and only turns a few pages. “Yeah, okay. This is what bad magic looks like.” There’s some sort of index or chapter list near the front.

"Ms. Yale, I should be the one thanking you." "Thank me?" Jessica frowned, confused. Adrian's smile grew wider as he reached into his old briefcase and pulled out a worn book. "Ms. Yale, do you remember me?" Jessica's eyes went wide in shock when she recognized the book. "It's you!" "Yes, it's me. I never expected the world to be so small. My first job after graduation was at the international cryonics research base funded by you." Adrian then explained how his neighbor had been deeply moved by Jessica's message, which had helped her overcome her internal conflict and eventually choose to be with him.

Its spines were tattered and appeared like spiky wires beneath the poor lighting. Trisha walked slowly to where it was and pulled it out of the other nine books crammed into the same row with it. She repeated the same process she had with the other books she'd picked—dusted it's shabby cover to see it's name. Unfortunately and very shockingly, too, there was none inscribed on it. That was odd. She flipped the book to the other end but nothing. It was empty of inscriptions, just like the front was. Slowly, she opened the book to first page.

She went back to the bench and picked up the old leather book. I watched her flip through pages. Her hands weren’t really steady. I noticed that and filed it away - Rhea's hands were always steady. She was one of those people who had trained the trembling out of themselves. Whatever she was feeling right now was significant enough to get through the training. She found the page. She held the book out to me. I took it. The page was yellowed at the edges and the illustration in the center was done in old ink. It was my mark. Exactly my mark - the crescent and the specific series of lines beneath it. Every detail matched, right down to the placement that looked like it had been drawn for the in