Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Isee something!”
Gray ink was materializing on the first page of the Vanished Compendium, as if seeping out of the parchment.
Petra and I sat crouched over the book in the strange defensive plant library, having just completed our third attempt at drawing out the invisible ink.
A title scrawled into view:
To make
“This was reenchanted into English at some point,” Petra observed. “Maybe by Jean-Claudia.”
“Why is it titled ‘To make’?” I asked. “Shouldn’t it be called Compendium Floracantus, Volume Two or something?”
“It is curious,” Petra agreed.
I turned the page, and we repeated the process of making the ink visible.
The word at the top read Aldrovandi.
“Aldrovandi?” I asked.
“It’s a name. I have a feeling we’re about to discover who authored the Compendium Floracantus and the Vanished Compendium. There have been theories, of course, but it’s never been confirmed. They didn’t put their names in the first volume.”
“Probably didn’t want it traced back to them if it fell into the wrong hands, since they were letting the first book be distributed among magical botanists.”
Below the name, a list appeared of steps and ingredients as if portraying a recipe, but it was written in convoluted language.
“Are these instructions for something?”
Petra pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. It doesn’t look anything like the format in the original Compendium Floracantus.”
We turned the page and repeated the process. The word at the top of that one was Cesalpin.
“Another name,” Petra murmured. Another riddle-like list appeared below, with similar but slightly different instructions, none of which made sense.
I touched Petra’s arm, my heart racing. “Cesalpin was the last name of the tree affinity botanist who helped us break the Floracantus on the tree that was blocking the quill’s locating features.”
“That doesn’t seem like a coincidence,” Petra said. “I am not surprised that another Renaissance-era descendant knew the Floracantus that would help you with the tree. Do you think he knew anything about this book?”
I shook my head as I recalled my conversation with Oren. “Just old family tales and rumors, like much of the society.”
We continued page by page until a name appeared that made me suck in a breath—da Vinci.
“Leonardo da Vinci was one of the authors of the Compendium Floracantus?” I breathed.
“The timing makes sense,” Petra said. “Most scholars date the book back between five and six hundred years.”
My eyes jumped to the few lines of text below my ancestor’s name. Like the notes on the other pages, it had been enchanted into English.
With two hands, we gather power.
Bring each botanical gift to center.
Lay to canvas. Sprinkle light. Make the new creation bright.
I pondered the text, trying to make sense of it. “Do you understand this?” I asked after a few moments had passed.
“It reads like a riddle. Da Vinci was known for creating those, I believe. They called them prophecies and used them to entertain courtiers.” Petra’s head tilted slightly as she studied the page. “I think they were known to be a bit of a stretch, though. This might prove rather hard to interpret.”
“But what are these riddles for? Did each Renaissance botanist leave the instructions for their favorite Floracantus in riddle form?” That idea didn’t seem right.
Something tightened in my chest as my stomach sank.
The Vanished Compendium wasn’t what we’d thought.
It was marvelous, to be sure, and a priceless piece of magical botanical history.
But unlike the original Compendium Floracantus, it clearly wasn’t stuffed full of ready-to-use enchantments.
Would it still be able to help us save the academy?
Petra continued to flip through the pages until she finally revisited the first one. “To make,” she said then looked up, staring into space. “I wonder…”
I waited, letting her work through her thoughts.
“I wonder if these are instructions for how to make Floracantus.”
My brow furrowed. “New Floracantus?” The idea went against everything I had learned about magical botany.
“The botanists who wrote the original Compendium Floracantus must have made them somehow. It would make sense that they would want to preserve that process and hide it more securely than the other book. Someone with the power to discover and make new Floracantus could change the world.”
“And you think they wrote those instructions in riddles so they couldn’t easily be copied if the book were discovered by the wrong person?”
“That could very well be the case,” Petra said.
“I wish I had more time to review this with you,” I said, my heart sinking at the thought of leaving. But Nevah was out there in the boat, likely worried something had happened to me. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it felt like more than an hour.
“Didn’t you say you were here for a few more days? Go reassure your friends you’re all right then come back tomorrow. We still need to work on unblocking your powers using the Rosie recipe, and this may be the perfect place to do it.” She closed the book and pressed it into my hands.
“It is yours now,” Petra said, and I felt a twist of discomfort at the words. The book didn’t belong to me. It belonged to all of us, just like the original Compendium Floracantus. If only we could figure out how to use it.