No emotion showed in the face of the elegantly dressed woman as she regarded the pitiful crumpled heap lying on the floor in front of the podium. The room was airless and seemed to crackle as if a storm was due.
"A failure, I take it?"
The man in the long black cape shrugged.
"As you see. The spell was - is - too strong. It broke her. It was not enough to take possession of her body – her magic was not only cellular, but in her mind as well. Once they were separated, the body was too weak for us to use."
The woman's mouth tightened.
"Very well. We know that doesn't work, then. We need to find someone whom we can - persuade - to cooperate. Preferably someone who is strong enough to remain in their body whilst they are opening the book. Someone who won't be scorched by the spell."
She pushed the body on the floor with the toe of one stiletto-heeled shoe. There was no response.
"She's gone, for sure. Where's the one who took over her body?"
"Still around," the man said, holding an ankh-pendant in his hand and looking at something the others could not see.
"We need to find another body for him then. Can you do it?" she said.
"Of course," the man said and looked at the two young men standing guard in the doorway. "Take this body away and throw it into a trash grinder. We'll carry on searching."
He dropped the pendant so it hung from his neck, its turquoise and black beads flashing in the light as he moved.
The young men seized the body of the elderly woman by its arms and legs and carried it off.
The woman turned to the book on the podium and extended her hand. Her fingers hovered above its cracked leather-covered wooden surface without touching it. Within the covers, odd-sized pages of papyrus, parchment and even metal were tied loosely together, giving the effect of a sorcerer's scrap book. The cover was embossed with strange gilded markings and the stones that decorated it were all black. Ornate protective metal pieces gleamed at each corner.
One piece of ancient papyrus jutted out between the covers just far enough to show some writing, but she couldn't see enough of the words to read them. She took hold of the edge, but before she could yank it out there was an electric snap and sparks burned her fingers. Shaking her hand, she turned away.
"Let me take that," the man said.
Bringing up a sturdy box, he placed it expertly under the edge of the podium, wrapped his cloak around his hand and pushed the book into the container without letting it make contact with his skin. A loud series of electric snaps made it clear that the book did not approve of his touch. He closed the lid of the box and pressed his hand over it. A soft click sounded and immediately the air was easier to breathe. He then carried the box to its secret compartment in the panelled wall, removing the single small piece of parchment with odd writing on it that was already in there, and then pushed the box inside. The wall closed soundlessly, revealing nothing of what lay behind it.
They walked together out of the round room into the sunlight of the terrace high above the other houses of the city.