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IN THE NOVEL
DARK EPITAPH
Axley Crowsfeet
This had undoubtedly been his best day in years at the auction house located off Howard near the docks, and it found him lost in day dreams as the Latin script ran though his mind.
“Phasma Mortuus.”
He coveted the ancient leather bound volume that he had just purchased, and kept it near him, like a mother to her new born child. But Axley’s instincts ran more within the dusty volumes that he collected rather than flesh and blood, and this latest acquisition was no exception. His heart began to palpitate as his fingers glided over the raised lettering in gold leaf; eyes formed the scenes which in turn drove the engine that was his elation. But he hesitated in his fetish long enough to comprehend his find, and in order to move forward with his addiction he had to find someone fluent in the ancient language. He cursed himself for not retaining the language as a field of study during his tenure at Berkley, and now much of its understandings were lost to time, and the cobwebs had collected.
He walked briskly down Howard, thinking of a linguist he had worked with in the past, but the name was a bit foggy, he would return back to his rooms and search his old name and address books for her number.
"Yes.........Thorne, Zenobia Thorne!"
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