Malora suddenly stopped laughing, her eyes carrying a hint of doubt, but almost at once she burst into another eerie, manic laugh.
For a fleeting moment, William actually thought that this strange, neurotic Malora looked a little cute.
Malora smiled as she admired the notebook in her hand, then glanced at William. "The ancient power still exists, the voices of the past still echo. Magic Knight, this notebook does not belong to you."
First, it had been in the hands of Warlocks, then William's, then Marwyn's—in all their hands, the notebook was just a notebook, without the slightest trace of mystery. He had always believed the disk inside the box—the rune disk—was the true prize, kept hidden from others. Yet the moment Malora took the notebook, strange things happened, utterly different from what had occurred in their previous encounter. This time, he hadn't sensed any shift in Malora's magic at all, which led him to suspect the notebook might be concealing some ghostly presence beyond his perception. This girl really is sensitive to spirits—any strange being can slip into her.
William began to think the notebook might indeed be better off with her. "I can give you the notebook, but you must tell me everything about it."
Malora raised her chin, looking a bit haughty. "Such as?"
"What exactly are these runes for?"
"Hehehe…" Malora laughed with delight. "As I thought, you really don't know a thing, Magic Knight."
When William reached out as though to take the notebook, she quickly skipped back two steps, licking her lips with an ambiguous smile. "Don't rush, little boy. We still have time. You'll get what you want… pleasure?"
"Time is life, Lady Malora. Please don't waste either of our lives." The ghost's words from the notebook still unsettled William, and his mood was growing tense.
"Ah, such a philosophical saying… very well, I'll tell you. These aren't just some runes; they're the steps in designing one rune. As for its purpose…" Malora lowered her voice, "It is meant to imprison a powerful life until the very end of time. And what lies at the end of time? Death is endless darkness… but the end of time? What is it?"
Both fell silent in thought.
Piecing the ghost's words together, William formed a rough guess: the rune disk could periodically ward off the curse's threat, but once its magic was drained, it lost all effect. Harrenhal's curse was tied to some mighty life. The ghost in the notebook wanted to create a rune that would seal that being forever, putting an end to the curse once and for all.
Could Harrenhal still be hiding some terrible monster? The thought made William step forward. "This powerful life—what exactly is it?"
Malora shook her head blankly, then laughed again. "Perhaps it's recorded in the notebook, but as for me—I don't know."
"Then… can you read what's written inside it?"
"Heh, some things don't need to be read. Some things don't need to be understood!" Malora drifted back into her cryptic tone.
Tch, if you don't understand, then just say so! Looks like I'll have to find a way to decipher the codes myself.
But that clearly wasn't something that could be done overnight. Since the notebook was already hers, one more burden made no difference. William decided she should also take a look at the rune disk.
Resolving himself, William walked to the railing, gathered up all the rune sketches, then pulled the box from his bag and set it on the rail, motioning for Malora to join him.
Malora was about to step forward when she suddenly seemed to remember something. She tugged open her collar, stuffed the notebook into her cleavage, and only then came over to William's side, casting him a triumphant glance.
William's eyes flicked down. He chuckled and shook his head—if he really wanted the notebook, it wouldn't matter where she hid it.
"There's an object of great magical power inside this box. Please be careful," William warned as he slowly opened it.
He would never have bothered to remind an ordinary person without magic, but someone like Malora, attuned to sorcery, might be influenced by the rune disk.
Malora shivered involuntarily, her entire demeanor suddenly sobering.
Inside the box lay a palm-sized silver metal disk, covered in intricate carvings, exquisitely beautiful yet radiating an aura of mystery.
"Lady Malora, can you tell what this rune disk is for?"
Malora studied it from every angle, then glanced at William, as though seeking confirmation. Seeing him nod, she slowly reached out and lifted the disk.
It felt astonishingly light—much lighter than it appeared. She traced its surface with her fingers. "Is this Valyrian steel?"
"Yes," William confirmed. With his magic, identifying Valyrian steel was easy, and thanks to this skill, he had picked up quite a few bargains in Oldtown's black market.
Malora studied the engravings carefully, her fingers tracing along some of the lines as she examined them, her thoughtful expression carrying a strange air of ease.
After a long while, she murmured, "So that's it."
William's nerves tightened, and he looked at her intently.
"These runes may appear unrelated, but in truth, they interlock perfectly. The design is exquisite. Without doubt, they must have been carved by an exceptionally clever lady."
Lady, that's not what I want to hear… William was left speechless.
Suddenly, Malora lifted her head, her familiar smile returning. "The curse of Harrenhal! So the legend is real. These runes were designed to resist a powerful curse, weren't they?"
William forced out a strained smile. I'd better get this disk put back quickly… Garth has a Dornish sand steed, which seems perfect for long journeys…
Seeing his expression, Malora chuckled and turned the disk over to examine its back. The design there looked much simpler, seemingly a single large symmetrical rune.
"Seven hells, could anyone truly carve a rune like this?" Malora sounded genuinely startled.
William leaned in for a look. "This design is simple enough. Even I could draw it."
Malora tilted her head back and let out a peal of laughter like clanging bells. "And what good would that do? If drawing the shape were enough, you'd be studying painting, not runes."
William gave two awkward laughs to cover his embarrassment. "So what does this rune do, then?"
"Runes are like bows, magic is like arrows. Without magic, a rune is nothing more than decoration."
"This rune can generate magic?" William suddenly felt the disk was far more impressive.
"Ahahaha! Magic Knight, Magic Knight, you really don't know a thing." Malora's whole body shook as she laughed extravagantly.
William shrugged calmly. "That's why I'm asking you, Lady Malora."
After laughing for a while, Malora said, "Runes can't generate magic. This one's purpose is to absorb—constantly absorbing magic to feed the front-side runes."
"Absorb magic? But wasn't magic supposed to vanish with the dragons' extinction?" William had long puzzled over this. Even if he didn't count himself and Margaery—who could produce magic on their own—he had sensed it in many places. Harrenhal's curse, for example, was clearly the result of magic at work.
"Magic is never destroyed." Malora fixed him with a deep look.
William thought of the glass candles. "But it has weakened, so many magical artifacts that once worked no longer function now?"
Malora gave a slight nod—though it was somewhere between nodding and shaking her head.
After a moment's silence, William raised another question. "Then with this absorption rune, the disk should never run short of magic, right?"
"It's short right now!" Malora tapped the disk with her finger. "When consumption exceeds absorption, it falls into deficit. That's basic common sense."
"Then how can it be replenished?"
"Well…" Malora handed the rune disk back to him with a meaningful smile. "You're more skilled at that than I am."