BOOK TWO

        𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡, 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙪𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣, 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢
        𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 '𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙖-𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠'—𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙧 𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙖𝙧. 𝙏𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙: 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝
        𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙚𝙨. 𝙏𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝-𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙪𝙩
        𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚.

        There was a whisper from Annie, the "oh" of the infinite unknown, the Annie-Soph-Oh.

        Magic took place upon the altar—Ma-Jack took his place, there at the high altar.

        A new book was opened. It was called Mystery Library Vol. II: The Draught-Wresting.
        It was filled with moonlight, because it was a mirror, and the hour was midnight.

        He pointed to the shimmering orb among the pages, and said, "I wish to know."

        The wind started to blow. The orb started to spin. But it was not an orb. It was an orb-
        weaver. It was spinning a web. It spun faster and faster and faster. Then everything was
        silent. Absolutely silent. As quiet and still as silence could be. For he could not speak or
        move.

        The radial threads made a spiral from out of a central point. The threads were thoughts.
        But he followed the spiral in his mind back to its origin, into that point in the middle of
        the night. It was a dark eye, in which he saw the reflection of himself, at midnight, as he
        gazed into a book. The book was a chalice filled with a silvery extraction. He drank of it.
        The one eye opened, and it was eight all at once; the eyes of the spider were the eight
        phases of the moon. He went through the only one that was fully open, and the web
        woven out of moonlight burned up in the sun; and from out of midnight he emerged into
        midday.