Prologue
There’s an irony in the saying ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover,’ in which the truth is that’s exactly how we judge our books. We look over the front, drawn in by either the title or the image, and soon we find ourselves skimming the blurb on the back. Sometimes, there isn’t even that, and we’re further drawn in to skim the first page because of this mystery. Or, on the other hand, we discover nothing that catches our attention and quickly toss the work aside, never to touch it again.
Needless to say, that’s exactly how Nikko found it. An exceptional cover by any standard, with no explanation or even a title to give him a clue. Just a locked book, full of questions. He’d turned it over a few times, admiring the leather that bore a pattern of aged wood, covered in symbols all wrapped around a milky white gem set in the center. Moonstone, the owner of the yard sale explained, although he could offer no answers either, having never been able to open the book himself. Nikko turned it over again, studying the blank back and admiring the bell that hung from a single red string like a fancy bookmark, silent no matter how much he shook it.
