Unbroken (Untouched #2)

Chapter 5

ELLEN watched as Dvorak paced the room, his footsteps treading ever so lightly on the plush carpet. His fingers were touched to a point just below the indent of his chain and his eyes were closed as he hummed to himself. She could feel the cogs in his mind turn and burr away as he pondered within the deep fathoms of his mind.

"I'll be honest with ye'," he began slowly. "I've never bee' in this position before and I haven' the foggiest of where to begin. It's not really somethin' that people want to know abou' let alone, learn. This is all new and migh' I say, unheard of."

He opened his eyes and made his way towards the armchair that sat in the corner of the room. Reaching down, he hoisted a satchel onto the seat and flipped the leather cover open all in silence. He plunged his hands into the bag and started to shake from side to side. He continued to tussle as he attempted to remove something large and heavy. Just as she was thinking whether she should render assistance, the satchel fell in a slumped heap back on the chair.

The room was quiet and she could almost hear the beating of her own heart as she waited for what was to come next.

"Do you know what thi' is?" he asked in what was barely a whisper as he raised his arms towards her. She struggled to hang on to every word. Prying ears of loiterers outside of the closed doors would have been guaranteed to hear nothing.

The irises of his eyes shone as he waited for Ellen to answer.

She stared at the object, feeling Dvorak's gaze prickle on her skin in anticipation.

A handsome, black cover peered out from between Dvorak's fingers. The lettering had started to curl and the golden lustre of the leafing had started to fade. Several deep creases ran like giant veins down the spine, and the leather was scuffed and scarred in places.

It was obvious that the thick tome had seen some use and abuse over the years, and had been around long enough to see history being made. But in response to his question, it was not something that she had ever seen before.

She shook her head as she remained staring at the heavy book.

"This," Dvorak started, tapping his fingers lightly on the cover. "Will be your best companion for the nex' little while. This is where I, myself, had gaine' a lo' of the fundamental knowledge I have. I now bestow it in your care but heed my words when I say be careful. Keep it close and keep it hidden. Don' let anyone know you have it. It woul' cause a right stir, this. The two who need to know that you have it have already been told."

He held out the tome towards her. Even with a stoic face, his eyes had become ever slightly rounded and his lips were tugged downwards at the corners. A quiet moment lulled in the air in between them.

Is it possible that he didn't want to let it go? she asked herself. Was he passing the torch on to her?

She took a few tentative steps towards his outstretched arms as her heart fluttered in its place. With each step she took, the book appeared to become more and more alive, and her heart started to beat quicker and quicker. The golden letters twinkled at her, and the dark background swirled as if smoke had been trapped between the pages within. She wasn't sure if he could see what she could.

There was something about it that lured her in; that snagged her interest and wouldn't let her go. It gripped her within its embrace and beckoned her ever closer. She closed the gap between her and Dvorak and took the book into her hands.

What happened next was something she didn't expect in the slightest.

Warmth radiated through her body and the tome felt as if it had become one with her hand and absorbed into her person. The death – the shrouded mystery and the unanswered questions – no longer seemed to matter. The angst and the worry had evaporated into the room around her. Her thoughts had been cast from her mind and she had come to find herself in an odd state of calm.