Diana
“That’s the worst idea that has ever popped into that reckless head of yours,” Sabina grumbled.
“Trusting Daemon was worse! He’s not getting a second chance!” I snapped. “Right, that’s not it…”
I carefully ran my fingers over the yellowed page. Time had given the paper a warm, almost golden hue, while inked symbols had darkened between the lines, many of them already beginning to blur. Some of the books had clearly survived more than one generation of witches and somehow remained intact to this day.
“How do you even know ancient Greek and Latin?” my friend demanded, examining the spines of the old books.
“I studied them at university. Besides, grandmother knew the languages,” I explained, pulling another ancient tome from the shelf.
“Ah, yes, Adelaide… Diana, this is going to e
