Spurlock remained where he was until the sail became an infinitesimal speck in the distance. If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that somewhere near to me. The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. ‘Neither do I,’ he responded, frowning, ‘but for Gerald’s sake, I’ll do anything I can. This door was crested with spikes, and guarded on the right by a bristling semicircle of spikes. “You and Anna,” she said, “seem to have stumbled upon a mare’s nest.
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