The Nobleman was intrigued by news of mechanical printing, so it pleased Henry to offer a tour of his workshop. He showed off the screw press that applied paper to type, the oil-based ink that did not seep into paper, and the movable type itself.
Henry’s current project was printing the Treatise on the Key of Solomon, by the Anchorite. Trays of typeset pages awaited printing, and he showed pages printed from these for comparison.
“The text is neat, so consistent and legible,” the Nobleman said. “But, while I was excited by the idea of this, I feel dread now, looking at these pages.”
“That’s the paper itself, my Lord. The Anchorite provided it, and it’s ensorcelled. See, these blank pages seep dread as well?”
This property so intrigued the Nobleman that, after some discussion, he purchased a large quantity of the Anchorite’s paper for his own purposes. The printer took it upon himself to ensure that the Anchorite would not discover the loss.
But the Anchorite did — finding stolen things was one of Solomon’s lessons.
One night, ten dæmons danced through Henry’s workshop, laying out type for the pages yet to come, inking the trays and screwing the press. They worked quickly and tirelessly — and the price? The printer Henry’s life, which the dæmons agreed was forfeit for his theft.
The book went on sale later that year, bound and ensorcelled, spreading the Anchorite’s name by its sales.
The Nobleman did not live to see publication.