She hesitated, then opened the box once more and laid a hand on the cold slate.
"Praise be to Shar, the Mistress of the Night," she whispered.
The whispers of darkness filled her head. Secrets beyond measure. Incomprehensible. Inaccessible. Except…
Variance looked down at the first page of The Leaves of One Night, at a blank spot on the black slate. A spot that should have been filled with the single silver character that shone on the thumb of Keph Thingoleir.