Page 52 of Blood Currents
I felt heat creep up my neck.“We’re studying historical artifacts with magical significance.”
“Are you now.”His gaze returned to me, and I had the uncomfortable feeling he could see straight through every careful lie we’d prepared.“And what makes you think I know anything about such things?”
“Parker told us…” I started but then stopped.How much should I reveal?
“Ah.”Something shifted in his expression.“Guard Parker.I see.”He moved to flip the sign on the door to “CLOSED” and then turned back to us.“I am Mr.Walton.And you are James Grimley’s daughter.”
My breath caught.“You knew my father?”
“I did.James was a good man.Too good for the company he kept.”His voice carried genuine warmth now but also sadness.“He came to me often in those final months.Knew he was in danger but couldn’t let it go.”
Before I could respond, Keane stepped forward.“You’re Professor Walton’s husband.Aren’t you?She mentioned you ran the shop together.”
The older man’s expression warmed slightly.“Hattie is my wife, yes.You know her?”
“She helped me,” Keane said quietly.
Understanding flickered across Mr.Walton’s face followed by something harder.“Ah.You’re the Alstone boy.Hattie worries about you.”He studied Keane with new intensity.
Keane nodded.
Mr.Walton was quiet for another long moment and then gestured toward the back of the store.“Come.If you’re truly here about silver bells, we have much to discuss.”
The back room was smaller than the main store, filled with books that looked far older and more dangerous than anything displayed up front.Protective wards hummed in the walls, and I could feel layers of concealment magic wrapped around the space like invisible armor.
“How long have you been helping people?”I asked as we settled into chairs around his desk.
“For a long time,” he said simply.“Since good people started dying for asking the wrong questions.”His expression grew sad.“Your father was one of those people, child.He knew the risks, but he couldn’t stop digging for the truth.”
“What truth?”Cyrus asked, leaning forward.
“The same one you’re seeking now, I suspect.”
Over the next hour, Mr.Walton explained the hidden history of Wyckhaven—how it had served as neutral ground during the early days of the war, how a network of vampires and witches had worked together to maintain peace despite the growing conflict.
“The silver bell you seek isn’t just a phrase,” he said finally.“It’s an actual artifact—Silvana.For generations, it’s been used to maintain neutral ground between factions.To call meetings that both sides will honor, even in the midst of war.”
“A bell,” I repeated, my stomach tightening.
“Not all power is dangerous, child,” Mr.Walton said gently.“Just as not all witches are saints.This war has made enemies of natural allies, and that benefits no one except those who profit from conflict.”
“But finding Silvana won’t be simple,” he continued, his tone growing more serious.“The neutral ground exists between worlds—accessible only to those who can navigate the spaces between life and death, reality and possibility.It requires very specific magic.”
“What kind of magic?”I asked, though I suspected I already knew.
“Magical resonance,” he confirmed.“Several magical schools working together…” He eyed the four of us.“Which I expect you’ve got.”
We nodded.
Mr.Walton stood, moving to a cabinet filled with ancient-looking maps.“Then you have what you need.There’s a ceremonial site in the mountains above town—old ground, where the first peace treaties were signed.The veil between worlds is thinnest there.”
“We’ll need directions,” Elio said.
“I’ll do better than that,” Mr.Walton replied, pulling out a worn leather satchel.“I’ll take you there myself.Some paths are too dangerous to walk without a guide who knows the old ways.”
As we prepared to leave the bookstore, I felt the weight of what we were about to attempt settling on my shoulders.Once we rang that bell, once we called the neutral ground into being, there would be no going back.
“Are you sure about this?”Keane asked quietly, echoing my own thoughts.
