Part Three: Important Steps
"Everything Human is Wrong" read the cover of the book, "by Samson P. Albright"
"I wondered which one that was," Reggie admitted. They picked through the crumbled pieces of the house together. It was almost like people looking through the debris of an earthquake hoping to find some survivor trapped beneath.
"What's your name?"
"Jessica."
"Reggie."
"Do you have a favorite?"
Sigh. She had to ask. "I-- I don't know. Maybe... Locks and Keys? or Qualitative Threshholds?" Reggie hadn't actually finished that one, but the parts he had read were clearly good, if a bit beyond his comprehension.
"Wow. I could never get through that one. It starts out great, so simple, then climbs in difficulty until I feel like I'm not reading so much as... you know, decoding something." Her clarity was remarkable.
Reggie pulled a piece of banister out of his way and flipped over what appeared to be a step from an old stairway. It was obvious from the curved edge of the plank and the stained surface which side was the top and which was the bottom. Something appeared to be burned into the bottom of the step, some kind of strange inscription, weird symbols.
"Oh, my God," Jessica gasped, "a sigil."
They looked at each other with wide-eyed excitement, then began grasping at bits of staircase and gathering anything that appeared to be inscribed. This was the stuff of dreams, the fabric of legends, the seat of mystery.
"We have to get them all," she exclaimed, "before someone else does!"
"I wondered which one that was," Reggie admitted. They picked through the crumbled pieces of the house together. It was almost like people looking through the debris of an earthquake hoping to find some survivor trapped beneath.
"What's your name?"
"Jessica."
"Reggie."
"Do you have a favorite?"
Sigh. She had to ask. "I-- I don't know. Maybe... Locks and Keys? or Qualitative Threshholds?" Reggie hadn't actually finished that one, but the parts he had read were clearly good, if a bit beyond his comprehension.
"Wow. I could never get through that one. It starts out great, so simple, then climbs in difficulty until I feel like I'm not reading so much as... you know, decoding something." Her clarity was remarkable.
Reggie pulled a piece of banister out of his way and flipped over what appeared to be a step from an old stairway. It was obvious from the curved edge of the plank and the stained surface which side was the top and which was the bottom. Something appeared to be burned into the bottom of the step, some kind of strange inscription, weird symbols.
"Oh, my God," Jessica gasped, "a sigil."
They looked at each other with wide-eyed excitement, then began grasping at bits of staircase and gathering anything that appeared to be inscribed. This was the stuff of dreams, the fabric of legends, the seat of mystery.
"We have to get them all," she exclaimed, "before someone else does!"
