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“This one’s not been called up for a while. I’ll make a note that it needs to be boxed after you return it.”
my skin prickling when it made contact with the leather.
Elias Ashmole, a seventeenth-century book collector and alchemist whose books and papers had come to the Bodleian from the Ashmolean Museum in the nineteenth century, along with the number 782.
Bridget Bishop was executed at Salem.
fear was the strongest force on earth.
I cried out for my mother’s help, but she remained intent on the water.
I vaguely remembered experiencing something like it once before, looking through some papers on the desk in my father’s study.
description of Man in two parts: the first Anatomical, the second Psychological.”
This was enough to make me blame my parents’ death on the supernatural power they wielded and to search for a different way of life.
I wasn’t sure how magic had crept into my acting, and I didn’t want to find out.
My specialty was the history of science,
period when science supplanted magic—the
the age when astrology and witch-hunts yielded to Newton ...
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It wasn’t magic, exactly, to put your hand on top of a book. My palm tingled, much as my skin tingled when a witch looked at me, and the tension left the manuscript.
So is the book like a trapped witch in the papers? Maybe it was written by her ancestors and had the soul of one of them (the one that burned at the stake perhaps).
It’s giving horcrux and Voldemort and how the diary Ginny got had its own mind and even was able to communicate with her.
parchment felt abnormally heavy and revealed itself as the source of the manuscript’s strange smell.
the manuscript’s power and odd smell distracted me.
The glass vessel was supposed to point up, not down.
Clairmont’s clove scent brought back the strange smell of Ashmole 782.
