The door creaked open revealing a long forgotten room, I gasped in delight as I saw the bounty before me. Dusty light filtered down from a cloudy, web covered, skylight. Tall, intricately carved shelves spanned from ceiling to floor. The shelves, though caked in grime, had vines climbing up the sides; the leaves turned upward desperately seeking the light. In between the ferns and leaves, peered mischievous eyes, claws and fluttering wings.

Filling the ancient, beautiful shelves was an astounding collection of books, esoteric knick-knacks, and oddities that I had never seen before.

On one shelf, a taxidermied raven perched. He was a dapper fellow, his ragged top hat and cracked monocle cut a rather fine figure. I imagined he would have a name with many syllables like Nicodemus Bartholomew the VI.

On the next one down, propped up by a jeweled box, was a series of leather bound books. The jeweled box gleamed in the dull light, the crimson gems were set in a dull grey metal. It set on clawed feet, and promised secrets within.

The leather books had no titles, just a stamped image of different phases of the moon. There had to be thirty at least. I was drawn to them.

Leaving the rest of the shelves for another time I reached for the first book.