Although Violette had never seen a book like this and there was not a word she could understand, there was no doubt it was the thing she was looking for. She could feel it.
Dante waitednear the entrance into the secret passage, twirling some kind of trinket in his hands, more likely one of the jewels from the witch's little boxes. But as soon as he sensed Violette, he carelessly threw it aside and bolted his gaze to her.
Stepping closer, she handed him the book.
“That's all that I found. Only, I didn't understand a single word.”
Dante plunged his eyes lower and pulled the book from her hand. He attentively scrutinized its cover before opening it. His eyes were glidingthrough the pages as his greed started to grow with every turn in search of something.
“Do you know what it is?” Violette peered in the book. The old brown pages were painted in strange and weird letters, or was it rather pictures? She didn't have time to catch it, as Dante was flipping through it very fast.
He didn't say a word, just kept skimming through it, sparking Violette's interest. Had he known what these symbols meant, for how smart and thoughtful he looked at the moment, or was he trying to understand what he was reading? He was definitely looking for something specific.
When he finally took his gaze off the book, his eyes shifted to Violette’s face.
“It's Heggas’ language.” His voice was peremptory, calm, which couldn't be said about his chaotic fingers iterating through the pages seconds before.
“Heggas? Aren't they like legends or something?” She skeptically tilted her head to the side.
She hadn't remembered much about them – only that they were evil witches that were cursing people, menacing chaos long before she was born.
“Oh, I wish they would be legends or even better – a mythical thing.” His hand scrubbed over his jaw. “Unfortunately, they're real, there just are not a lot of them left.” It sounded like relief from his mouth. Perhaps, foreveryone, if all that was written about them was true.
“So, thisbook belongs to one of them?”
“Yes,” he said shortly.
It was a strange thing to assume because the woman in the portrait behind them was nothing like how Heggas were pictured in stories. Were this woman and the one who the secret room belonged to the same person?
“How do you know? You understand what is written here?” Violette let loose her curiosity.
“Not really. I recognize some of these symbols but to read it we need someone who actually knows this language.” His eyes dropped to the pages again.
“So we will be looking for a Hegga?”
“A Hegga is the last thing I want to see,” Dante gritted his teeth. “There's someone else who can read this book.”
Violette raised her brows, astonished. “Who?”
“The Witches of Emerald Capes.” The book slammed close in his hand.
Violette's lashes batted. “I've never heard of them.”
“It's a community of witches who take their power from nature and praise it. They engage in all sorts of strange rituals, but the main thing is that they know Heggas’ language.” With those words he started to move in the direction of the exit and as he made a few steps something fell out of the book right on the ground.
“Wait,” Violette quickly picked it up. It was a piece of paper folded in half. The cursive writing on thebeige parchment indicated that it was intended for Dante. She raised her eyes as he stalked closer and extended the letter to him. “It's for you.”
He roughly opened the parchment, quickly running his eyes over what was written inside and then…just threw it away. There was nothing to read in his eyes, as if the letter hadn’t touched him at all. Only impassivity stared back at her. Violette's eyes darted to the place where the letter landed, startled by this simple action.
“Nothing important.” He got ahead of her question as she glanced at him, about to open her mouth. And then turned back to go away.
Violette's feet glued to the floor, her eyes fixated on the paper hidden in the shadow now. She didn't have the right to read it, to pick it up, so she could do nothing except just to leave.
“So,” she tried to change the topic and go back to their previous conversation as she neared. “Are these witches some kind of sorceresses or are they indeed witches?”
“Well, they're not like you, but still they're not like Heggas either. I'm not familiar with their heritage. In my opinion they are just a bunch of crazy weirdos. But they can read this language,” Dante finished as they ended up at the crypt entrance again.
Violette raised her eyes to the moon, fresh night air played with her nose. How nice it was to see the stars after darkness in the tomb, they seemed brighterthan before.
