Chapter 163

Helen’s POV

It didn’t take too long before we were ready to go and found ourselves in the library. This time the restricted section was not off limits to me and it felt odd to be able to walk in and simply go straight to the book that I wanted. I didn’t think about the fact that when I had originally looked at the book about the Huntsman that the little silver key that had gone with it. I dropped the key who knows where.

My stomach sank. How was I supposed to research this man if I couldn’t get it back into the book? Hoping maybe Russo could pick the lock with some sort of fae magic, I went ahead and went straight for the book and pulled it out, setting it on a nearby table which was set up for reading.

To my shock, the key was back in its place. That was creepy. Had somebody put it there or did the book draw it back with some sort of magic?

I gave a shudder. Either way I didn’t like the idea.

Russo and Julianne both hovered behind me as I took the key and open up the book. Again, it flipped open as if of its own accord, going straight to what I figured must have been the page that I had been on before. The book shimmered with blue light and the holographic image of the Huntsman began to take shape.

The last time I’d used the book I hadn’t really interacted with it. It just spoke and scared the living daylights out of me. If I wanted to find specific information, was I supposed to ask the hologram or was I supposed to flip through the pages myself and try to find a spot? Was there an index or glossary?

Before I could make up my mind, the image started to speak again, it’s voice was slow and eerie, but at this point familiar. It was the voice of the Huntsman himself. Was this some sort of diary?

“Welcome, Little Wolf.”

I stumbled back with a gasp, hitting Russo in the chest. He caught my arms to steady me.

“Don’t worry it’s just a book it doesn’t have a consciousness of its own.

“But,” argued. “It’s like it knows me.”

“There’s magic that can do that,” Russo pointed out. “Even the humans have artificial intelligence that can recognize individuals.”

“But not unless it’s been programmed,” I protested. “How would the Huntsman have been able to tell this book about me without either coming here or knowing me in advance? And how long ago did he make the book? How could it possibly know me?”

Russo gripped my shoulders and pushed me back towards the book. “Don’t be afraid of it,” he said. “Use the tool. Why don’t you start by reading the book?”

I shot him a look as if he was crazy, but without any better ideas I turned and face the Hologram. “Hello, Huntsman.”

The hologram waivered and smiled at me—the Huntsman’s wicked grin.

I decided to ask a benign question first and just get a feel for how this stupid thing worked. So I asked the hologram, “Does your book have an index or glossary?”

“I am the keeper of all knowledge within this book,” the hologram answered me.

“So then if I want to know something that’s written in here, can I ask you?”

“That is typically how the keeper of knowledge works.”

I scowled at the hologram. The events of the past year had beaten into me the lesson never take anything for granted.

“Is there a price for accessing the information in this book?” I asked.

The hologram’s smile went viciously evil. “My dear little wolf, there is always a price for knowledge.”

I shuddered and glanced back over my shoulder at Russo. “This is what it’s like talking with him in my dreams. Except, unlike the book, he initiates the conversation.”

He shot me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. That must be frightening, but this is just a book and you have me and Julianne here. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Even if for some reason something happens to you, one of us can slam and lock the book shut.”

I nodded and turn back to the hologram. “Who is the Huntsman?” I asked.

The blue image seem to glitch a little before stating, “That question has many answers. Which one do you seek?”

I frowned. “What’s the Huntsman’s real name?” I asked.

“The Huntsman was born Jacob Orias Cypress.”

“If I look Jacob Cypress up on the internet will I find anything on him?” I asked the hologram.

“The Huntsman does not have a footprint in human media,” was the automated reply.

“Interesting,” Russo said, considering. “I thought the Huntsman was human. How would he have gotten away with not having any record of him in human technology? I think you’d at least be able to find birth or marriage records or something.”

Russo’s comment got me thinking of another question. “Is the Huntsman ?” I asked the book.

The image seem to glitch harder this time. “The Huntsman’s mother is a human.”

That reply had Russo hissing between his teeth and it set a knot in my stomach. The two of us looked at each other. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked Russo.

He nodded. “Sounds to me like our Huntsman is only half human.”

A shiver ran up my spine and my blood went cold. “Then what’s his other half?” I asked. “Because I was in close proximity to him and he is definitely not a werewolves or lycan. I got pretty familiar with the scent of vampires, and your scent is a fae, and the wizards, and the pixies. The Huntsman is not any of those.”

Russo crossed his arms, hugging his chest. “I shudder to think then. Because that rules out all of the supernatural creatures I’m familiar with. And whatever is feeding into his human half has to be fairly powerful because he has taken down wizards, fae, werewolves, and lycans like it’s no big deal.”

I turned back to the book. “When was Jacob Cypress born?” I asked it.

“Jacob Cypress was born on December 10th 1893.”

This caused me to startle and bump into Russo again, stepping on Julianne’s toes on my way. She gasped, but I doubted it was because I stepped on her foot.

“How can he be well over a hundred years old?”

Russo made an unpleasant noise in the back of his throat. “I don’t know. Some of us supernatural beings have extended lifespans but no human should live that long. That just confirms that he’s definitely not wholly human.”

My palms were sweaty and I wiped them on my pants before trying to find the courage to ask the hologram my next question. “Who and what was Jacob Cypress’s father?”

“The Huntsman refuses to record anything about the monster that sired him.”

“Why?” I demanded.

“Because the Huntsman will not see the beast immortalized in any way.”

Beast? Was this just angry rhetoric describing a hated father, or was there a specific reason that the Huntsman chose to refer to his father as a beast. And if the description was deliberate, then what sort of adversary were we up against?