I was ready to do anything to keep the Daughter here, with me.
"Do you think the ancient wards might know something about the book?" I wondered out loud.
Her face lit up, and she beamed at me.
"That is a great idea! Why didn't I think of it?" She closed her eyes.
A moment passed before she gasped and looked at the double doors leading outside. "Let's go," she said, then took my hand and pulled me out of the banquet hall.
We ran up the stairs, then turned left and reached the far end of the corridor, where the ladder leading to the attic extended to the open hatch above. She climbed up, and I followed. She walked toward the middle of the attic room, looking left and right until she found what she was looking for.
She pulled an old chest from underneath a pile of dusty carpets. It was an old traveler's chest, made of wood with a metal frame, the sides covered in snakeskin. The lock on it was massive but rusty.
"I don't think there's a key," I said.
"We need to open it. The wards have spoken," she replied.
I nodded, then searched for something with which to break the lock. I found a hammer, forgotten in a tool box by the wall and swung it down with all my strength. It rattled the lock, but it didn't open. I hit it again and again and again, but still it didn't budge.
"It should've opened by now," I said, out of breath.
"This is strange," the Daughter said. She got down on her knees.
I joined her, and we both got a better look at the lock. I wiped some of the dust and dry dirt off to reveal the fine filigree details in elegant swirls and floral motifs. This was no ordinary lock.
The Daughter sighed and closed her eyes again. I figured she was reaching out to the wards again.
"It's been sealed with magic," she said, then looked at me.
"Whose magic? Draven's father, maybe?"
"No, the wards." She pursed her lips.
"And they couldn't say so before I started pounding on it with a hammer?"
"Well, they're not very good at communicating." She smiled sheepishly. "For centuries, no one has spoken to them, so they're still getting used to me being able to see and talk to them. There are many secrets in this mansion, many of which the wards have also forgotten, including this chest."
"What does that mean?"
"It means there's a key to this lock made with ancient magic, but they can't find it. They don't remember where they put it."
"You've got to be kidding me," I said. I looked around, hoping there were some wards around to hear me. "You've got to be kidding me!" I shouted at them.
"It's … It's all right," the Daughter said.
She bent forward to get a closer look at the lock again.
"It's a shame you can't see them now. They're shuffling around, apologizing profusely." She giggled. "They're old, Phoenix. They're old souls who never left this world and were repurposed by ancient magic to serve as wards for my sisters' spells. They don't remember everything anymore. They've been around for so long."
"Great. So they're basically everybody's great-grandmother!" I quipped.
The Daughter passed her fingers over the lock, her head cocked to one side, as if listening for something.
"It's okay, Phoenix. I think I can open it."
///
"How do you know?"
"I don't know. But I can try." She shrugged.
I sighed and nodded. It was the best she could do. Not knowing her limits was a setback, but I had faith in her ability to surprise me and herself. So, I waited patiently as she passed her fingers over the keyhole, over and over again.
Minutes passed, and she repeated the motion, but nothing happened. At one point, we heard a small click, but when she pulled the lock, it didn't open.
"I think it's reacting to me, somehow, but I don't know how to convince it to open," she said.
"Convince it to open?"
"Well, yes. I'm basically stroking it and asking it nicely to open."
I stifled a laugh and pressed my lips together, keeping a straight face as I watched her repeat the caress for a few more minutes.
"Oh, come on! Open already!" She slapped the lock hard.
Sparks flew from the hit, and an invisible pulse threw us backward, followed by a loud click. We sat up and saw the lock drop open, the keyhole glowing an incandescent red.
"Wow," I said. "All it needed was a good spanking, then."
The Daughter laughed and shuffled back to the chest, pulling the lock away and lifting the lid. The interior was draped in soft red velvet. We found the third book dressed in several layers of black fabric with fine golden embroidery.