knows word of kemmler

On the kitchen table there were only empty cups of tea, empty cans, unlit candles, paper, and pens.
In the spot where Bob the skull had sat, there was nothing.
"Oh, man," Butters said quietly at my elbow. "Oh, man. They took him."
"They took him," I spat.
"Why?" Butters whispered. "Why would they do that?"
"Because Bob the skull hasn't always been mine," I growled. "He used to belong to my old teacher, Justin. And before that he belonged to the necromancer, Kemmler." I whirled in a fury and slammed my fist into Murphy's refrigerator so hard that it dented the side and split my middle knuckle open.
"I... I don't get it," Butters said, his voice very quiet.
"Bob did for Kemmler what he did for me. He was a consultant. A research assistant. A sounding board for magical theory," I said. "That's why Cowl took him."
"Cowl's doing research?" Butters asked.
"No," I spat. "Cowl knew that Bob used to be Kemmler's. Somewhere in there, Bob knows everything about the theory that Kemmler did."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that Cowl doesn't need The Word of Kemmler now. He doesn't need the stupid book to enact the Darkhallow because he's got the spirit that helped Kemmler write it." I shook my head, bitter regret a metallic taste in my mouth. "And I practically gave it to him."


Dead Beat Chapter 34, Page 306