Codex by Lev Grossman

along the edges of the gathered pages. The book was so palpably ancient he was afraid it would crumble to dust as he turned to the first page. When he did there was no title page there, just plain text.
    He took a few notes. The writing on the pages was dense and black and almost totally illegible. He thought medieval books were supposed to have pictures in them, but there wasn’t even anything much in the way of decoration, just a few curlicues here and there between the columns of writing. He spelled out a word or two, enough to see that it was written in Latin. Turning the pages of a book he couldn’t read could only keep him amused for so long, but he felt like he should use the full fifteen minutes just to spite Margaret Napier.
    But even spite got boring after a while. Edward found her sitting at a circular table in the lobby with an entire drawer from the card catalog in front of her. She had boldly removed the metal rod that ran down the middle and taken out a short stack of catalog cards. She was sorting them into piles on the blond wood in front of her, as if she were involved in an elaborate private card game, and taking the occasional note.
    â€œWho’s winning?” he asked jauntily.
    â€œWinning?” Margaret Napier looked up at him uncomprehendingly. Well, she didn’t deserve witty conversation anyway.
    â€œAre you really allowed to do that?”
    She continued to sort the cards.
    â€œI used to work here,” she said. “Anyhow, the paper catalog is largely redundant. Most of its contents are duplicated in electronic form.”
    â€œDo you mind if I ask you a few questions?” he said, sitting down across from her. “I mean, about Gervase of Langford?”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWell, I’m doing some research, and—”
    â€œAre you a graduate student?”
    â€œI work for a private collection.”
    She plucked another manila card out of the drawer and snapped it down onto the table. He forged ahead.
    â€œRecently I’ve been looking for a particular book by Gervase of Langford. And as part of the search I’ve been familiarizing myself with the physical characteristics of his work.”
    â€œYou’re working for a private collection,” she repeated. “You’re interested in acquiring one of his works?”
    â€œActually, I think we may already have one.”
    She looked up from her work.
Touché.
She seemed to register his presence for the first time.
    â€œYou’re saying that your employers may be in possession of a new example of the work of Gervase of Langford.” She put down her pencil, still skeptical but definitely paying attention now. “What is it? Another
Chronicum?
”
    â€œNo,” said Edward. “It’s a—I think it’s some kind of travel book. Something about the land of the Cimmerians, something like that.”
    As soon as he said it he knew he’d made a mistake. Her manner frosted over again, visibly, and she went back to shuffling her cards. Edward waited, listening to the sound of her pencil scratching in the quiet of the library, but she said nothing more.
    â€œYou know the book I’m talking about?” he prompted.
    â€œThe book you’re talking about doesn’t exist.”
    She sounded almost angry about it.
    â€œMy employers think it does.”
    â€œThen they’re sadly misinformed.”
    â€œWell, they’ll be very sorry to hear that.”
    â€œI’m sure they will.”
    â€œBut you do know what I’m talking about?” he said doggedly. “
A Voyage to the—
?”
    â€œ
A Viage to the Contree of the Cimmerians.
” She spoke the words fluidly and easily, but with a weird sing-song pronunciation. She placed the stresses differently than he would have expected, and she gave “Cimmerians” a hard
c,
as if it were spelled with a
k.
“It is a well-known hoax.”
    Edward