"It can," I said. "Usually is."
I approached the pedestal slowly, my footsteps echoing off the marble floor. The book on top didn't react to my presence. No glowing runes, no whispering voices, no sudden bursts of light. Just a book, sitting on a pedestal, looking like it belonged in a museum rather than a deathtrap.
"Don't touch it yet," Trish said.
"I wasn't going to."
"Your hand was literally reaching out."
I looked down. My hand was, in fact, reaching out.
I pulled it back.
"Fine. You check it."
Trish gave me a look that clearly said she was questioning every life choice that had led her to this moment, but she stepped forward anyway. Her amber eyes narrowed as she circled the pedestal, studying the book from every angle.
"No magic I can detect," she said finally. "No traps on the pedestal. No enchantments on the floor around it."
"That just means the archmage is better at hiding things than you are."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence."
