She must have been crazy. That was the only explanation. She must have been crazy to have done what she did.
"Dr. Chalkey?"
"Yes, Detective Morris?"
"May I see the text he was looking at?"
"It's being cared for right now. You don't understand what the oils and dirt of human hands does to ancient paper like that … "
"Do you have a copy of it? Something that scholars can look at?"
"I do have a special print of it but it's reference only."
"I don't intend to take it out of the library, Dr. Chalkey, but if I do, I'll ask for a copy, okay?"
Dr. Chalkey nodded and disappeared for a minute, returning with a book, containing several specially wrapped pages. Morris signed for it and opened the cover, almost gasping at the beauty of the colors. Golds, purples and reds popped out from the creamy paper, surrounding calligraphed letters that flowed so naturally on the page.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Morris nodded to the librarian. "That's why we are so protective of these texts. We will never see their like again."
"I understand. Thank you." Morris closed the book and headed back to where Lively was obediently sitting. "Here."
Lively took the book and Helaine could have sworn that she saw a circle of light arise when he opened the lid. He looked up at her, his dark eyes seeming to find something inside her that made her feel comfortable. "If you are going to trust me, you have to leave the reality that you know behind."
Morris wasn't sure what that meant but she nodded and took the chair next to him when he gestured her over. He looked down at the first page of text and whispered words that sounded like a foreign language to her. The light brightened, enveloping the table and Morris gasped. The painted pictures on the page had come to life. A man in a brilliant red robe with a halo over his head lounged in a gilt window, cooing to a dove that had been drawn perching on his finger.
The words sharpened and transformed into legible text. Morris would later learn that the text had been written in Latin and the spell that Lively spoke performed a visible translation. Even though he had already read the page prior to her arrival, he treated each page as if he was viewing it anew. Women in iridescent gowns danced in the corners and sparrows, cardinals and doves frolicked up and down the edges as he ingested the words, his expression stony and serious.
On the final page waited the most shocking image of all. She looked like a combination of Japanese anime and Alberto Vargas' zaftig artistry. Her skin was the color of tempered chocolate, her black hair coiled in braided ropes around her head and her body unfurled in sensual splendor, chocolate-tipped breasts and luscious thighs. Morris stared at the woman, unable to tear her eyes away. So when the drawing sat up from her chair, the detective could do nothing.
The Great One stretched, her spectacular body drawing attention as she caressed her own body, her hands gliding over rounded brown planes and drifted into deep valleys. Her eyes closed when her fingers made contact with her hidden pussy but the passion was evident in the shape of her mouth and the arch in her back. Her liquid brown eyes turned back to those of the detective and for a moment, Morris could swear that she heard the sound of a woman's passionate whimper.
