Free Strega (Strega Series) by Karen Monahan Fernandes

the library with uninterrupted determination. I stared at them in disbelief. But when I looked at the tree again, its scorched and lifeless branches were abundant with green leaves.
    I couldn't believe my eyes. I ran toward it, hoping to find some remnant, some bit of evidence to validate what I'd just witnessed. But I found nothing. I turned away, defeated, fearing once again for my sanity. But when the gentle breeze blew, I caught the subtle scent of charred wood and saw tiny flakes of paper-thin ash.
    ***
    The library's brick fa çade and white wooden trim contributed to the quintessential New England vibe in town. I stood at the base of the steps staring at the entrance. The glass doors reflected the sun and gave off a blinding glare. Like a portal of light, the doors beckoned me, as if crossing through them would bring me enlightenment. I decided to forego the coffee at Rao's. I hadn't been to the library since fifth grade, but as I approached the entrance, I anticipated the mandatory peace and quiet I would find inside.
    Two older women sat behind the reception desk reading. Each one eyed me curiously as I passed by. I put my phone away, suddenly aware that it might be the reason for her disdain. I migrated to the second floor to the European history section, where I browsed the shelves until Mr. Baker called.
    I was so used to searching for information on the internet. Typing a few words and hitting return got me endless pages of relevant data in an instant. It was a big step back to rely on tables of contents and indexes to find anything. But it was kind of perfect. I had time to kill.
    Mr. Baker said the blade was similar to daggers of ancient Rome. This was as good a place to start as any in my aimless search for sanity. In the European history section, I grabbed the first book I saw on the subject of the old civilization.
    A History of Rome, from 500 B.C.E. to 50 A.D . The Roman Empire reached far and wide throughout Europe, and absorbed many regions with varying cultures and accompanying symbology. I browsed the book and searched the index for "dagger" or "symbols" but found nothing relevant.
    As I was about to grab the next book, a slender volume on a nearby shelf caught my eye. Its spine was dark blue, a unique color among the drab browns and grays surrounding it. Before I could reach for it, it fell to the floor with a giant thud. I stared at it, too afraid to pick it up. Then the words I'd overheard minutes before played again in my mind.
     
    Signs are all around you. Messengers. Pay attention to what they are trying to tell you.
     
    I took a deep breath and picked it up. I ran my hand across its smooth face. Etruscan Civilization: A Cultural History . Adorning the cover was the stone likeness of a husband and wife embracing and gazing into each other's eyes lovingly. I flipped to the copyright page where the image was identified as the lid of a marble sarcophagus found in Vulci, Italy, dating back to the second half of the fourth century, B.C.E.
    My limited knowledge of the Etruscans began to trickle back into my consciousness. The Etruscans occupied the Italian peninsula long before the Romans did. That I knew. The rest came back in bits and pieces. And from what I recalled, bits and pieces were all that was left of their lost civilization.
    I took the book to the nearest table and cracked it open. I skimmed the first few pages, reminding myself that the ancient race dominated the region for centuries before Rome rose to power. I recalled that the Etruscan culture was unique, and still regarded as exceptional in modern times for its uncommon vivacity. They treasured life, celebrated love, art, and family, and valued all things of beauty. Women and men had the same rights and were equals. Their way of life contrasted greatly with that of their neighbors in Rome and Greece, regions dominated by ruthless patriarchs that pursued power, glory, and conquest with no regard for the cost.
    The Etruscans were loyal