Above the Phantom Tide.
Klein really does trust me...
Luther held Groselle's Travels, sent by his former colleague, and sighed inwardly.
Since Luther had brought the ancient, mysterious book out to sea, it had withdrawn all its Spirituality and looked like an ordinary book. As expected, these waters exerted a powerful suppressive effect on it.
"Would you let me in?"
Luther spoke gently to the book.
He sensed Groselle's Travels shrink back almost imperceptibly. Then Spirituality spread from it and enveloped him completely.
When Luther opened his eyes again, he found himself inside a vast, magnificent palace.
Groselle's Travels had not merely brought him into the Book World. It had taken him straight to the City of Miracles, deep within the collective consciousness, to the far end of the Dragon of Imagination's palace.
That almost ingratiating gesture spared Luther a great deal of trouble. The Spectator Pathway really was remarkably good at reading people's intentions.
Luther couldn't help laughing.
Since it's being so cooperative, I won't need to scare it with the Tide... I'll just ask. He cleared his throat and said:
"I'm fighting someone who has that quill—you know which one. What I want to ask is this: once it becomes aware of me, will it help its holder act against me?"
Luther's voice echoed through the hall.
The palace soon responded.
On the mural behind the Dragon of Imagination's stone throne, a rough image swiftly took shape:
A figure in blood-red robes dominated the mural. At his feet, crimson waters surged as though they would swallow the world. In one corner, the white quill lay meekly lowered, writing nothing.
That red figure must be me, and the quill is naturally 0-08. Faced with me, it doesn't write a single word... Luther quickly understood the mural. 0-08 would not—or