Bethany, after carefully hiding the book, told her father, who was very distressed. "Thank God the wall between is stone! It's a miracle we didn't catch on fire!"
Bethany had more pressing concerns. Her father had gone out, so she went back to her room. Small, but cosy and adequate, it had a small wooden bed, bed stand, wardrobe, and in the corner, a worn armchair. A dark rug kept the chill from the cold wooden floorboards.
Into her wardrobe Bethany put her hand, and drew out the book, which she had stowed under many scarves and hats. She sat in the armchair, and traced the snake and vine. A legend. Just like the book.
Inside her head, Bethany went through the story, told by innumerable bards in the village.
The book held all the secrets and knowledge of the sorcerers and sorceresses. Together they put an enchantment upon the book, so that when anyone who opened the cover was not a sorcerer or sorceress, they would die by fire.
Bit by bit, as the rest of the story unfolded in her mind, the pieces fit together.
And those against the good sorcerers and sorceresses caused the book to be lost...